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wileys-russo · 2 months

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Alessia Russo “if Kim asks Kyra did it. Training.

recovery roomII a.russo

"well well if it isn't our little hat trick hero!" you looked up from your phone with a grin, steph getting out of her own car as you pushed up off of the side of yours.

"if it isn't the mighty captain catley! where's your child?" you teased, kyra not having left stephs side basically the entire camp. "oh god i have had the most blissful two days kid, you don't even understand!" steph moaned happily, dean having whisked her away to a spa to help with the jetlag.

"you picked a good one steffy." you smiled, always happy to see how well dean treated her and had treated her for the many years they'd been together.

"your turn next! when are we going out to test my wings?" steph asked with an excited glint in her eyes as the two of you started to wander across the parking lot waving to a few of the girls doing the same.

"oh my god stop that stephanie please." you laughed, face burning bright red at the way the older girl was flapping her arms around like she was a bird. "what? i'm being a wingwoman." steph grinned as you shoved her and the two of you fell into step again.

as far as your teammates both for club and country were concerned, you were in their eyes painfully single.

they went out of their way on team nights out to try and take turns pointing out people from all walks of life they felt would be a good fit for you, or stealing your phone to argue over whose turn it was to swipe away on your dating apps.

and up until a couple of months ago, you appreciated their efforts. as much as what most of the girls perception of your 'type' was, was horrifically wrong.

but that all changed when a certain blonde striker came barreling into your life, knocking the air from your lungs and kicking the cobwebs off your heart, filling you with emotions and feelings that up until then you'd assumed were permanently retired.

but neither you or alessia were oficially 'out' and hadn't ever had any sort of public relationship your entire careers, so with a plaguing fear in the back of both your minds that allowing the public eye into your little bubble would pop it entirely, you'd kept things very much to yourselves.

you'd both made an agreement before international break that you were feeling near ready to tell your family and closest friends at the very least, neither one of you feeling any sort of pressure from the other which was a welcome relief.

but not having seen your girlfriend for going on two weeks now, with you away on camp with the matildas and alessia with the lionesses, you were in an extra chirpy mood.

which is how you found your jaw near aching with how hard you'd been smiling all morning, relishing in catching up with all of your teammates and friends.

but eyes flickering to the doors of the cafeteria every few seconds awaiting your favorites blonde entrance you couldn't contain the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach in anticipation.

"oi! spade cadet, you still with us?" you were snapped back to reality as leah clicked her fingers in your face, humming and trying to tune into their conversation. "sorry, had some weird dreams, slept funny." you were quick to speak, excuse seemingly accepted as no one else prodded you for anything further.

then finally you heard her before you saw her, her boisterously melodic laugh echoing around the cafeteria as she walked in with vic and emily, shoving the shorter dutch girl beside her who hurried away to jump on teyah.

her eyes roamed the room before they locked with yours, sending you a dazzling white smile and a wink before she grabbed a tray and loaded up with breakfast, making a beeline for the spare seat at your table as the girls all greeted her happily.

"hi lessi." you smiled softly, swooning as she repeated the greeting back in the sweet accent you'd grown to adore, her foot brushing up against your calf beneath the table as she pushed you her juice and your eyes lit up, her own heart melting at the sight.

"steph!" you protested as before you could grab the small bottle it was snatched from your path, the older girl cracking it open and downing a large mouthful, pushing you away with her free hand as you reached for it.

"i had to poison check it! i'm just looking out for ya." your national captain grinned finally handing you back the now half empty bottle as you scowled and she only pinched your cheek in response.

"kyra's been a bad influence on you." you huffed with a roll of your eyes, her shoulder bumping into yours before she returned to her conversation with beth.

you looked up as someone gently kicked you, a smile curling onto your face as you and alessia played footsies under the table, careful not to stare too adoringly at one another and engage with your teammates around you.

catching your gaze you saw the blonde subtly nod behind her as she stood, grabbing both her tray and yours as well as leah and beths, a chorus of thank you's sung her way as she made her way out of the cafeteria.

you waited a few minutes before doing the same, lying to steph that you left something in your car and wanted to hurry to grab it before training when she stood to go with you, assuming you were heading to the media room for the mornings debrief.

caught up saying hello to a few more of the girls on your way you eventually made it out and carefully ensuring you weren't being followed or watched ducked away to your usual meeting place with your english striker.

you'd barely stepped into the recovery room before her hands were on you, a laugh leaving your mouth as the door banged shut and she had the audacity to shush you, wolfish grin on her features as she pressed you against the tiled wall.

"me? you made me slam it!" you whisper yelled at her, both of you pulling the other into a tight hug, melting into one anothers touch with content sighs.

"i missed you." alessia mumbled out, peppering a few kisses to your neck before pulling her head back. "we facetimed nearly every night!" you teased, arms wrapping around her neck as the taller girl smiled lovingly down at you.

"no thats where you say 'baby i missed you more'. then we argue for awhile over who really missed the other more, and then i just shut you up with a kiss." alessia beamed as you shook your head, fingers scratching at the base of her neck, fiddling with a few loose baby hairs which had fallen out of the bun at the back of her head.

"can we just skip to that part then?" you teased, puckering your lips and pulling her closer as her body vibrated in amusement but she wasted no time arguing, quickly pressing her mouth against yours.

you exhaled happily at the sensation of kissing her, forever consumed with the euphoric feeling which warmed your body from the tips of your toes right to the end of your nose, your whole body alight.

"babe we have the meeting!" you reminded with a laugh, the words mumbled against her lips as alessia pressed you more firmly into the wall, hands squeezing your hips and using the moment to slip her tongue into your mouth.

"less." you warned, pulling back with a slight gasp as she held your bottom lip captive between her teeth, sucking it back into her mouth as her right hand moved to cup the back of your head so she had a little more control over you continuing to pull away.

right as her feet kicked your own apart, her thigh slotting in between yours and your breath hitched, a few more gentle but sloppy kisses trailed down your collarbone, the door suddenly flew open.

both of you breaking apart alessia wasted no time taking your hand and yanking you around the corner, both of you ducking out of view as your hands covered one anothers mouths and you heard a few members of staff discussing the plans for today, clearly grabbing some extra yoga mats before they departed, both of you exhaling in relief.

"that was way too close. you have no self control russo!" you smacked her chest, the grin still sitting happily on her face as both of your cheeks were flushed red with heat and your eyes rolled.

"we've still got seven minutes to the meeting and it only takes two and a half to walk there from here?" your girlfriend wiggled her eyebrows making you laugh as she pulled you gently into a much softer kiss, hands falling either side of your face as you sighed happily into her mouth.

"okay! we can continue this tonight." you pulled away and poked her, tugging her hands off and pushing for her to start walking. only you really should have taken into consideration that it was alessia you were dealing with, the girl born with two left feet both ten sizes too big for her body apparently.

so though it was a hardly a rough push, it was enough for your girlfriend to consequently trip over her own feet and go sailing toward the ground, reaching out for a shelf to try and steady herself but instead she only succeeded in pulling that down with her.

you stifled your laugh as she shielded her face and the viles of various essential oils and creams they used for massages came sailing down on top of her, somehow not breaking as finally the noise stopped and you both held your breath for a moment that no one would walk in.

when you heard no footsteps you doubled over laughing, the striker sitting up blushing in embarrassment and smacking your ankle, mumbling that it wasn't funny as she stood to her feet with a huff.

"come on clumsy." you shook your head in amusement, grabbing her hand and guiding her toward the door as she pouted clearly feeling very sorry for herself.

only right as you went to exit you both jumped a foot in the air as another one of the shelves came down, apparently attached to the other and this time the various containers which fell did break with an almighty crash and smash.

you and alessia shared a wide eyed glance and booked it out of the room, your girlfriend pulling you again around a corner and stealing a kiss as you both laughing into one anothers mouths to try and stifle the noise to no luck."

"if kim asks, kyra did it."

#woso #woso community #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs #alessia russo #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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awfcspencer · 2 months

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Oxygen || jill roord x reader

prompt: When the Netherlands beat the USA in the Tokyo Olympics, you need your girlfriend to take your mind off the loss.

warnings: mdni 18+ smut, bottom!reader, top!jill, oral, fingering, face riding, begging, praise, a few spanks

Everything about the Tokyo 2020 Olympics was different. Due to the previous worldwide pandemic, all countries and teams were completely isolated away from each other in the Olympic village to avoid a massive outbreak. Which meant that you hadn’t seen your Dutch girlfriend in the flesh in nearly three weeks. Three long, long weeks. Most nights you were unable to rest properly, knowing that your girlfriend was somewhere in the sweeping halls of the Olympic village lying in bed without you. You burned for her to be near, ached for her in many ways.

For you, Jill was like coming back up for air after being submerged under water for too long. A lifeline, like oxygen to the body. The weight of playing professional football is tolling, especially during international windows that forced you to be apart from the midfielder. You had missed her warm embrace and relaxing nature that brought you back to reality when you had a bad day at training or when your boots just didn’t feel right on your feet. In her arms, it was just you and her, no fans screaming your name and no one to disappoint when your shots didn’t go in. Just the two of you. Your teammates tried to do their best to keep your spirits high, the Olympic window was a long, grueling one, but they all knew who you really needed. Most nights, they found you huddled in bed watching your girlfriend’s match. Even in a massive tournament where your countries were opponents, you would always support her. On the Dutch side of the village, Jill did the exact same thing, even when her national teammates poked fun at her on countless occasions.

It also didn’t help that the quarterfinals had been set, the United States versus the Netherlands. You would have to face off on the pitch for your countries for the first time. The United States and The Netherlands had a history, your countries oppositions during the 2019 World Cup. The set of games that you hadn’t played in due to an injury in your hamstring that left you off the roster two weeks before the announcement. In the privacy of your own home, you had worn your USA kit to cheer on your respective country, but secretly cheered when your girlfriend was subbed on during the 66th minute.

Before leaving for Tokyo, you and Jill had set a clear no communication boundary. You both took playing for your country with pride, and it was easiest this way to make sure the two of you were in the best mindset to train and play to your best abilities. If only you could back and eat those words. You assumed it would be the best alternative to keep your head clear, but it had the direct opposite effect and only made you long for the girl more. But luckily, walking onto the pitch the day of the match, you had only one focus, securing a spot in the semifinals.

Your countries national anthem rang out and while you tried to calm your overworking brain that was filled with nerves, you couldn’t help but peer over to the Netherlands side to spot her. Locking eyes was nearly enough for you to settle down and breath correctly, letting out a ragged breath you weren’t even aware you were holding in. Trying to pretend Jill wasn’t mere inches away from you as you shook her hand before the match was crushing. Wanting nothing more to pull her in for even just a moment. You could tell from the quick look in her eyes that she wanted the same thing, a look you knew all too well. However, her once alluring gaze turned fixed as the referee blew the whistle and the game began.

In the first opening minutes, the United States came out firmly on the front foot offensively, gaining two solid chances on target that unfortunately the Dutch goalkeeper made impressive saves to keep the score 0-0. Playing in the midfield meant that you were stationed in close proximity with the one person who had been infiltrating your every waking thoughts. Forcing yourself to pretend the Netherlands number six was just another girl, a girl you weren’t head over heels in love with. Jill had apparently done the same, forwarding a risky tackle to your ankles right before halftime whistle that most certainly could have gotten her a yellow. Fortunately, the quick whispered apology as she helped you to your feet was left between the two of you. Her touch was electric and while it felt as if the world had paused on its axis, it certainly hadn’t and the ball zipping past your feet was the best indicator that you were in the middle of an important match.

The Netherlands were able to capitalize first and get on the board through Vivianne Miedema, a red-hot forward you had grown to know through Jill. Thankfully, Lynn Williams sent a ball into the penalty area, and you had found the back of the net with a diving header to level the score. After the break, the game continued to be a back-and-forth battle between the two countries. Both teams had created hopeful opportunities, but neither was able to clear the net, sending the match into extra time. Extra time was over just as quickly as it started and neither team had punched their ticket to the semifinals, leading the match to penalty kicks.

Standing interlocked with your national teammates facing the goal while the shootout took place is where you come to the obvious realization that either you or your girlfriend would be leaving this match with a crippling defeat. Being so focused on match preparation and tactics, the heartbreak that one of you would be feeling after had completely slipped your mind. It was an instance the two of you hadn’t properly discussed before leaving. With two missed penalties on your side, it seemed you would be leaving Tokyo without a medal. A goal by Dominique Janssen sealed the deal for the Netherlands. As the players in the orange kits raced around the pitch celebrating, basking in the alive hope to obtain Olympic gold, you had fallen to your knees taking in the moment. Remembering every ounce of sweat, blood, and tears it took to be on this stage. You braced yourself for post-match discussion with teary eyes and sore limbs. Each second felt like an hour as Vlatko ran through his postgame notes and then finally left so you could get changed and return to your hotel room. The changing room was quiet as everyone kept themselves mostly, some older teammates helped the younger ones through the emotions with hugs and affirmations. Kelley had alerted you that someone was waiting outside the door for you. Peering your head out, you were met with piercing grey ocean eyes, and it was as if a god had answered your prayers.

“Hi baby.” Her voice was angelic and exactly what you needed. She was still in her sweaty kit but that didn’t matter much as you bolted straight into her arms. Your glossy eyes were enough of an indication that you just needed her, she carefully ran her fingers through your hair and hugged you tight.

“Missed you.” You voice was brittle as you spoke into her chest. She was slightly taller than you and your small frame fit puzzle-like into her, being able to rest your head in the crook of her neck and collarbone.

“I missed you too.”

A small, fleeting kiss that quickly turned passionate and hungry. You didn’t want to think about the loss anymore, you just wanted to relish in Jill’s presence. With the tournament ending for you, Jill had extended the invite to her hotel room for the night. The USWNT was scheduled to take the first flight back to the States in the morning so this could be the last time you would be able to see her until she returned home, hopefully with gold around her neck. If you couldn’t win, you wanted her to.

Jill had sent you the directions to make your way covertly over through the large Olympic village. Dressed in a matching black jumpsuit and a cap, you kept your head low and walked carefully as to not be spotted. A small knock on her room door and she swiftly ushered you into the room, checking her surroundings in the hall as you walked in. She had changed and showered, the edges of her hair were still damp as you hugged her. Stood in her arms just taking in each other, breathing in her warm almond and coconut scent. It had been a long three weeks without her.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

A head nod in agreement as you settled in between her long legs, and she flicked on a film. Roughly fifteen minutes in, your attention was no longer on the television, instead it was on the lingering fire in your chest that you had felt lying in bed night after night without the Dutch. All you can think about it the feeling of Jill’s body against yours. With growing arousal, you turned towards her and pulled her in for a searing kiss, throwing your arms around her neck as you shifted to kneel between her legs to be able to pull her closer. She met your lips eagerly for a moment, nipping your bottom lip before she drew backwards. In your relationship, Jill typically had the higher sex drive, so it was a bit out of character for you to pursue the midfielder, especially after a crushing loss.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to baby.” She dragged her thumb along the side of your cheek, her eyes darting to yours to scan for any sort of reluctance. The desire burned in the Dutch midfielder as it did inside you, but she was also content spending the night cuddling and interlocked with you. All she really wanted was to be near you, to make up for lost time. Jill’s large hands roam the outlines of your covered toned back.

“I want to. I need to,” you reassured her, looking up at her through your lashes with dilated pupils. You needed to forget about the loss, forget about the match entirely. You needed something, or someone, to free your clouded mind. Your look of approval was enough for Jill, shifting your bodies so you were now parallel under her.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. God, you’re beautiful.” Jill had not fully registered how long she had been without your body.

“I’ve really missed you,” you told her, meeting her lips.

Her hands trailed up your sweatshirt finding your exposed breasts, you had forgone wearing bra in hopes that this was how the night was going to end. A low groan fell from your mouth as she kneaded the delicate skin, inching the fabric upwards to pull it over your head and remove it from your body entirely. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you watched as her defined ab muscles flexed when she followed suit and quickly discarded her oversized tee. The burning desire only grew in your body as you surveyed her tanned skin, she had certainly got some sun in Tokyo. She bent down to reconnect your lips, her larger frame gently falling onto yours, your fingers ran through her dirty blonde hair pulling her in closer. You needed the contact, you needed her close to your body. It was a heated, passionate kiss while her hands grabbed desperately at your bottom half, eager for you to remove your bottoms.

Swiftly throwing them to the side as she pushed your body backwards into the mattress, your head finding a pillow to rest on. Her warm fingertips trailed up and down your thighs, she could feel the tension in your flexed quads. She could tell your body was tense.

“Baby relax, I’ll take care of you,” she cooed, placing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs as she spread them wide.

A small wet circle had formed on your underwear as she lingers her fingers along the top hem. Drawing little soft circles and placing a soft kiss on your clothed clit, humming to herself that she can make you feel this good without even properly touching you yet.

“All this for me?” she devilishly grinned against your skin.

Removing the last piece of clothing remaining between you and a release dangerously slow, taking her time to attach her mouth to your chest. Taking turns between your breasts, she takes a nipple into her mouth and sucks greedily, cupping the other with her free hand before she bites onto the flesh. Finding home in her locks, you pushed her head lower down your body.

“So needy huh baby?”

She licked a broad stroke up your cunt, finally where you really needed her, using her thumb to flick side to side on your exposed clit. A hushed moan left your mouth, forcing you to bite you lower lip to stay silent assuming her national teammates were just across the hall. You didn’t want them to hear your desperate noises for the Dutch.

“You can be as loud as you want. The rest of the team is out celebrating. I want to hear you. Baby.”

Unhooking your lips in an o-shaped motion when she began gliding her long fingers through your slit, using your arousal to coat her fingers.

“Fuck Jill,” shivering under her touch.

“Good girl. You taste so good baby,” placing her fingers in her mouth as she sucked relentlessly on them to properly taste you, she had missed your taste. Inching them towards you as they entered your mouth and you tasted yourself, a line of spit connecting them as she pulled them out and pushed her pointer finger slowly into you. Your pussy easily swallowed her warm finger inch by inch. Her other hand on your thigh to hold you in place on the mattress, a grounding placement that helped the previous stress of the match fall out of your mind, relinquishing in her touch.

“Don’t tease me Jill, I need more,” it was a sweet little plea that spurred her on. You needed her to fuck you hard, inching the sore limbs and upset emotions from the previous 90 minutes of football to the back of your mind.

Twisting her head downwards at your request, fluttering her tongue along your clit. Her slow thrusts with one finger speedily turned to two fingers stretching you out and working you open to eventually adjust to a third. Gripping your wrists above your head as she fucked into you. You were sure she was going to leave a trail of bruises on the skin but the way she pounding into you left the concerns a tomorrow’s problem. Her mouth found home on your neck, sucking roughly at the wide-open skin, running her tongue down the newly formed dark red marks she left across your body. Your moans only got louder and louder. She paid attention to the way your hips moved in rhythm with her fingers, essentially fucking yourself on her fingers.

“Mm Jill,” as she skillfully curled her fingers against your walls.

“Who makes you feel like this,” she groaned out.

“You, Jill, only you can make me feel like this,” you yelled out, feeling no shame in letting everyone in the Olympic village know who pleases you.

Mercilessly fingering into you with an unrelenting tempo brought you closer to chasing climax. With her knuckles deep, shockwaves were sent through your body, tightening around her digits.

“Close Jill…. Close.”

“Let go baby, I’ve got you,” unhooking your wrists and instead interlocking one of your hands with her. Brushing her thumb along the top of your hand and with a few more thrusts you were falling apart under her. With your head thrown back and your breath hitched, your hips jut out towards her and your back arches off the bed as you reach your peak. Jill carefully coaxes you through your high, hand now stationed on your thighs kneading the skin as you come down. Once your breathing had returned to normal and your legs had stopped squirming, Jill met your eyes.

“I want you to ride my face,” she suggested.

Locking eyes with her, “Are you sure?”

She shook her head and settled on her back in between two pillows and shifted you onto her lap. You grinded harder on her, interlocking your lips in a wet sloppy kiss. You stationed yourself over Jill’s face as she leaded back more to allow you to fully kneel around her head. Jill’s hair sprayed against the pillows with her dark hooded eyes staring up at you, you nearly could have came at the sight. You placed your hands on the headboard to avoid possibly suffocating the girl and settled your dripping pussy on her face. You could feel her hot breath tickling your skin. She cupped your chin and made you watch as you rode her face.

“I want you to stay like that,” she murmured against your inner thigh.

The moment her tongue made contact with your folds, your hands flew from the headboard to grip her hair. She let out a loud moan and pressed her face closer to your core. The tip of her nose carefully rubbed against your sensitive clit. Her hands pinched your tits, rolling the buds between her fingers. Her pointed tongue skillfully buried inside you, moving with rapid pace. You couldn’t help but grind your hips, fucking yourself on her tongue.

“Taste so good,” she mumbled.

You felt yourself throb and close your thighs around her head. Rocking your hips to grind down harder on the Dutch, smearing your arousal all over the midfielder’s lips. You could feel her moan against your core that sent vibrations throughout your body. She pulled your swollen bud in her wet, skilled mouth. She pushed her tongue past your tightness and prodded at your walls.

“Oh fuck Jill,” you choked out a whimper.

“Come on baby, just one more. You’re doing so good for me.”

You reached your hand down to rub your clit as she increased her speed. You threw you head backwards as your eyes clenched closed when a sharp smack hit your ass and your hips bucked against air.

“Be a good girl and I’ll let you come.”

Your skin burned as the coil in your stomach was so close to snapping. You peered down to the girl between your thighs, her mouth glistening with your wetness as you rocked back and forth.

“Please, please, please Jill, let me come. I’ll be good,” you begged.

Jill grinned against you and pulled you down by your thighs to be closer to her. Moans and whimpers slipped past your mouth as your walls clenched around her tongue, flicking against your sensitive nub. Your knees are tilting back and forth against her face, spreading yourself more open for her to hit every inch of you.

“Baby you taste so sweet. Such a sweet little cunt all for me. Let go for me.”

With another rough flick to your clit, you cried out as her tongue lapped up your juices and you caught your breath. You swivel your hips in small circles to ride out your high as your temple throbs with overstimulation. You fall forward against the headboard as Jill licks you clean. You topple off of her and instead next to her on the bed, trying to regulate your breathing and your blurry vision.

On the mattress next to the girl, you crane your neck to see Jill staring up at the ceiling with a cocky grin carved into her face. Licking her lips and using her hand to clean her chin to wipe off the leftovers of your orgasm. She turns her head slowly towards you and scoots closer to your body, brushing the hairs off of your sweaty forehead.

Placing a soft kiss on your lips, “I really missed you baby.”

Curling in next to her and interlocking your hands, you told her, “I missed you too baby.” Jill pulled the once discarded comforter over your bodies and you snuggled more into her. You would think about the loss tomorrow, right now you were in Jill’s arms, and for right now, even if it was for just a few more hours, you were relaxed.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso smut #jill roord x reader #jill roord #jill roord smut #woso community #woso blurbs #woso soccer

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pinkportrait · 2 years

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It's not often an actor (Alexander Skars gård) plays a character with another character one who's name is the name my actual name is based on.

#Is it pronounced the same in Sweden?#This comes actually not my Swedish side but my Dutch godmother #It got an americanized spelling and pronunciation #But the real way to spell it and pronounce it is that way its not far off but it's not something English speakers can readily pronounce #I've got to see this now #There's actually a popular hair dye in Japan with the same name #This name isn't even popular in its country of origin so this is wild as fuck to find

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sebscore · 11 months

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do female driver and her side of the garage shenanigans. Like her and her team just being besties and entertaining. Love your work can’t wait to see what you do next!

MONTE-CARLO MADNESS

pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader

warnings: swearing. slight slander of two dutchmen (nothing too serious). mention of checo’s quali crash last year.

author's note: i was bored during the race so i wrote this :) I know it’s not exactly what you asked, but it does include more of her and marco 💜 (also, I know that gif is from 2021, but it was too beautiful not to use lol)

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''Y/N!'' A hand on her shoulder pulled her attention away from her conversation with her engineer, and to the older German man next to her. ''Norbert! Hey, how are you?''

''I'm in Monaco!'' He exclaimed, pulling the young woman in a hug.

The driver's face broke out in a smile, endeared by Norbert's excitement over being in the foreign country. ''Yeah, you are!'' She laughed, her face resting on his shoulder.

''Can I get a hug too?''

Her eyes widened as she recognised the voice, pulling away from the older man, she was met with the bright smile of Sebastian. ''Seb!''

Y/N almost jumped into her mentor's arms, delighted to see him for the first time in months. ''What are you doing here? You didn't tell me you were coming.'' She held an accusing but disbelieving tone, shocked to see him in Monte-Carlo out of all races.

''Surprise!'' He joked, holding up his arms as if it were a surprise party.

The woman slapped his arm in return. ''When did you get here?'' She asked him, still in shock about the former driver's appearance.

''Just now, my dad and Fabian got here yesterday- I came by car.'' Sebastian answered, pointing at his father who was busy catching up with the Aston Martin team.

''Of course you did,'' Y/N chuckled at the mention of his transport, ''are you staying here the entire weekend?''

The German shook his head. ''No, just today- Stefano invited me, I'll be there for the driver's briefing, though.'' He clarified, pouting at the flash of disappointment in her eyes.

''That's nice, everyone will be happy to see you.'' She was slightly let down about his one-day visit, having hoped he would at least watch qualifying on Saturday.

Sebastian nodded. ''Yeah, it will be nice to see all the drivers again.''

''You know,'' Y/N spoke up, catching his attention, ''retirement doesn't really suit you- I think you should come back.'' She smirked, a mischievous grin on her face.

The older man let out a chuckle, shaking his head. ''I put on some nice clothes for you today, I'm hurt.'' He feigned to be hurt by her words, an overdramatic pout hanging on his lips.

''It's definitely better than the usual attire, for sure.'' The driver glanced his outfit up and down, the man wearing blue pants and a white loose shirt.

Sebastian simply laughed, scratching his voice. ''So, uh, how are you feeling about the race?'' He asked her.

Y/N unsurely nodded her head, not too confident. ''The car felt good today so I think there's a good chance for pole.'' The first free practice of the GP had gone well, taking the second top spot right before Lewis.

''Well, I'm quite confident you're gonna take pole.'' Sebastian retorted, matter-of-factly.

The young woman snorted at his response. ''Thanks, I'll keep that in mind when I'm in the car.''

The German patted her shoulder. ''I hope you win,'' he confessed, a serious expression on his face, ''I like Max, but the Dutch anthem is not to my taste.'' Sebastian grinned

''You won last year. Who says you can't do it again or at least make it onto the podium?'' He didn't expect an answer out of her, he just wanted her to feel more confident in herself and especially at a circuit she had consecutively done well at.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''Last year, I got lucky with Checo's crash during quali and with the Ferrari strategy. The Red Bulls are way too fast, Seb. I'll be happy with a podium.''

The young driver knew a win would be practically impossible if either one of the RBR cars made it in front of her in qualifying. The previous year, she managed to qualify P3 behind the two red cars and due to Ferrari's disaster class, she was the first to take the chequered flag.

''But you still held up the Red Bulls last year, you're being too negative.'' Sebastian argued, discontent about her certainty that she wouldn't win again.

''It's whatever, anyway- I have to discuss some things with Marco. I'll see you later?'' Y/N made the move to leave, sticking out her fist.

Sebastian bumped his fist against hers. ''Yes, Turn that frown upside down, Y/N!'' He yelled after her as she walked away, resulting in a joking middle finger from the young woman.

''What's the best time now? I have one more lap in me, if I need to.'' Y/N asked her engineer over the radio, on an out lap.

There was silence on the other side for a few seconds. ''Uh, the leaderboard is very chaotic right now, it changes every time a driver crosses the line.''

''Who is on top now?''

''De Vries.''

''Are you fucking serious?''

She knew Monaco qualifying would be absolute madness, but an Alpha Tauri on top of the leaderboard? She was not expecting that.

''Push for one more lap- we're safe, but everything is changing very fast.'' Marco encouraged her to do one more flying lap, wanting to be confident they made it into the next round of qualifying.

Y/N was the last car on the circuit starting her last lap right before the time of the quali session ran out. She had the fastest second sector and crossed the line, moving up to P2 and being safe from elimination.

''We're good, nice job!'' Marco complimented her, confirming that she made it into Q2.

''He he, that was a little scary.''

''You gotta push like a beast now, Y/N! Verstappen on pole now and no one is behind you.'' Marco's words sounded over the radio, doing his best to hype her up as this was their last chance to take the pole position.

''Copy.'' She simply answered, before starting her flying lap.

''Y/L goes faster than Verstappen in the first sector. Look at how she's pushing the car to its limits! It's absolutely unbelievable!'' Crofty's voice boomed through the speakers.

''A purple second sector as well! Is Y/L going to take her first pole position in Monaco? She's very close!'' Ted continued, his eyes glued to the big screen.

''UNBELIEVABLE STUFF! Y/N Y/L TAKES THE POLE POSITION HERE IN MONACO! SHE SURPASSES THE RED BULL OF MAX VERSTAPPEN TO SET THE FASTEST TIME! WHAT A PERFORMANCE BY THE TALENTED YOUNG WOMAN! WHAT A LAP!'' The commentators couldn't believe it as they saw her name rising to the very top of the leaderboard, not expecting her to set a better time than the Red Bull car.

''YOU DID IT! POLE POSITION, Y/N! YOU DROVE LIKE A MANIAC!'' Marco shouts over the radio, trying his best to give his congrats as their entire team jumps around him.

Her eyes widened as she took in the news. ''I'M ON POLE? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? WOOOOO!!! MONACO BABY!'' The driver loudly exclaimed, so loud that her team had to remove their headphones from their ears.

''Guys, I'm so proud of all of you! Everyone worked so hard and this is for the entire team, thank you so much!'' Y/N expressed her appreciation for her team, knowing she couldn't have done it without them.

She made it to Parc Fermé and parked behind the No. 1 standee, already seeing Charles and Max there. It took her some time to get out of the car as it was difficult to turn everything off with shaking hands.

The young woman stood on top of her car and threw her hands in the air, pointing at her team who cheered for her- along with the crowd who went crazy at the sudden turn of events.

She ran to her team, immediately hugging Marco upon spotting him at the front of the fence. ''I told you to drive like a beast, not a maniac!'' He laughed, patting her back.

''I don't remember anything from that lap, I think I blacked out.'' Y/N told him, pulling away from him and shaking the hands of the rest of the team.

Charles was the first one of the drivers to congratulate her. ''That was crazy, congrats.'' The former Prema teammates hugged each other.

''Thanks, it was absolute chaos out there,'' she sighed, taking off her helmet and balaclava, ''I know you wanted a different result, but you still did well.'' The younger one told the Ferrari driver who simply brushed it off.

''You fucker!'' A sudden slap on her arm, took her focus off Charles. ''How did you do that?''

She found the smiling face of Max, holding out his hand for a typical driver's greeting. ''Dude, I don't know! I for sure thought it was over for me.'' She told him, a shocked expression still on her face.

''Congrats, you deserve it.'' The Dutchman praised her, a genuine tone found.

Y/N nodded her head at him. ''Thanks, appreciate it.''

''It's the three of us again.'' The Red Bull driver laughed, pointing at the three of them as it was also the same trio in Baku, just a different order.

Charles sighed. ''I have to meet with the stewards after the interviews so I don't know if I'm gonna stay at P3.'' He told them, confusing the two other drivers.

''What do you mean?'' Y/N asked him.

''Lando was on a flying lap and I got in his way- in the tunnel.'' The Monégasque explained, informing them on the unfortunate moment.

Max frowned. ''That's not good, no. You didn't saw him coming?''

''The team didn't tell me.'' Charles answered, holding in the urge to roll his eyes.

''They didn't tell you that Lando was coming? That's fucked up.'' The youngest one said, puzzled on why this even happened in the first place.

The Ferrari driver shook his head. ''I'm gonna get a penalty for a mistake I didn't make.'' The defeated look on Charles' face upsetted both of his competitors, disappointed that the Monaco curse had found its way to him again.

A silence fell upon them, not knowing what to say as the three of them were all feeling very different emotions after the chaotic qualifying session.

''Well, I'm gonna grab my award.'' Y/N sheepishly smiled, breaking the uncomfortable silence between them.

The two men nodded at her as she walked away, but she turned around as a thought came into her brain. ''Oh and Charles?''

''Yes?''

''Tell them it was just an inchident.''

taglist :: @cl16version @missskid @missthem @rosesintj @evans-dejong @thehistoryone @dreamycloudsworld @alonsogirlie @muushmeg @topguncultleader @the-great-adventures-of-me @love13tter @xcharlottemikaelsonx @kiwisa @starkwlkr @nora_moon @princesselle2111 @valluvsu @thatsadsmallchild @babyyoda89 @milkbreadforlife @fxllfaiiry @hc-dutch @its-ash-not-grey @princessbetsy123 @mehrmonga @nyenye @screechingtrashkid @ahnneyong @holybatflapexpert @itsnotgray @beautycinders @rowansshit @uhhevie @revengze @nylaslife @majx00 @multi-universe21 @jaydensluv @isasalom @gentlemonsterjennie1 @appledashhh @breathinfive @lighttsoutlewis @champomiel @ooooohmicky @koufaxx @flannelforthetoads

@mysticfalls01 @ghostcorazon @mango-bear @totally-random-person @youkissedareaderinthedark @phoenix-luv @hamilton-mount @calcaneous @aurora-maria @idkiwantchocolatee @anonymous-platypus

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #f1 x female driver #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc x you #max verstappen x you #sebastian vettel x you

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odi-et-amo85 · 2 years

Text

Things I could do when I’m still sick on Thursday, and thusly have to miss celebrating Liberation Day and going to one of the best concerts ever 💔:

Go through all my unanswered asks; 😅

Finally write that post which explains my name (Thel) and my profile (odi-et-amo85); 🤔

Create a new email address (especially for odi-et-amo85) and transfer my YouTube stats; 😵‍💫

Get some more rest and cry myself to sleep; 😢

Immediately buy myself a ticket for GO_A’s Benelux tour in September; 🫡

Buy myself some merch as a consolation prize; 🥲

Start reading War & Peace (I’m in a dramatic mood okay?); 💀

Order some well deserved comfort food 🥺

Let me know which one I should choose, as it looks, it’s be likely I will need your advice… 😫

#thel’s thoughts #about me #go_a #the netherlands #liberation day #fyi: 5 may is a national holiday in the netherlands on which we celebrate being liberated after wwii 🧐#(and in typical dutch fashion this isn’t a mandatory free day 🤡)#in the netherlands liberation day is generally celebrated in so-called ‘liberation festivals’#go_a is supposed to perform on such a festival 🤩#i love that band 🎶🥰#ftr: i have the flu 🤒#so there’s a real chance i won’t feel good enough to travel across the country on thursday 😪#i hate being sick 🤧#on the bright side: there will be more concerts of them in the netherlands 🥹#so not all is lost atm 😌#but still:#I HATE THIS! 😤

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meazalykov · 18 days

Text

For me there is only you

esmee brugts x uswntplayer!R

warnings: this is a long one. gets a tiny bit spicy towards the end but nothing crazy lol.

Netherlands vs USWNT was a highly anticipated match in the 2023 Women's World Cup. The cheers and chants echoing through the stadium could’ve been heard from a mile away. This wasn’t normal for a group stage game. This is due to the two countries having history. The Americans and The Dutch faced each other during the 2019 World Cup final, which resulted in a United States victory.

At the end of the 90th minute, the score is 1-1. Emotions ran throughout the two hour match but one player's frustration was palpable. Y/n L/n, a rising star on the US Women's National Team, had just finished a match against the Netherlands that ended in a draw. Despite her team's efforts, the result didn't sit well with her.

In the 72nd minute, Y/n had a wide open shot inside of the Netherland’s box. She uses her right foot to take a shot and the ball skyrockets towards the crowd, instead of going inside of the goal. At the time, she put her hands on her face in frustration and embarrassment. Considering how great of a striker she is, the missed opportunity came as a shock to USWNT fans. “Don’t stress it!” Y/n felt a hand on her shoulder, hearing the voice of her team captain over the loud crowd.

As the crowd dispersed and the players stayed to greet other people in the stadium, Y/n took a moment to collect herself. She sat on the bench, head bowed, replaying the game's pivotal moments in her mind. Especially the goal she missed. The girl never missed a wide open shot before. She knows that the World Cup pressure is intense but there were no excuses for that miss.

Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Hey, tough game, huh?"

Y/n looked up to see a girl, around her age, wearing a Netherlands Orange jersey. #22. She had beautiful dutch braids that were frizzy due to the wind. Despite being on opposing sides just moments ago, there was a shared understanding in their eyes. They are athletes who know the highs and lows of the game.

"Yeah, tough one," Y/n replied with a faint smile.

Y/n got up from her seat and stood across from the girl. The girl introduced herself as Esmee. She explained she was a midfielder for the Netherlands team and had recognized Y/n throughout the match.

"I have to say, you were impressive out there," Esmee said earnestly.

“Except for that missed shot, of course.” Y/n frowned at herself.

“Everyone here has missed a shot before.” Esmee’s Dutch accent comforts Y/n.

Y/n’s frustration began to melt away as she engaged in conversation with Esmee. They discussed certain moments in the match, their one clash before halftime where Esmee side-tackles the ball away from Y/n, their respective journeys in soccer, and other people they’ve known on the pitch. Despite being from different countries, they found common ground in their passion for the sport.

As they talked, Esmee revealed the reason why she came up to Y/n in the first place.

“My friend, Ingrid, told me that you were going to join Barcelona after the World Cup.” Esmee confessed. Y/n nodded her head in familiarity, the girl met some of the FC Barcelona girls throughout the competition. Ingrid Engen being one of them.

“I am. I’ve already signed the contract because my contract at Bayern expired.” Y/n smiled and looked at Esmee, realizing the Dutch girl might be joining Barcelona too.

“Wait–are you joining Barcelona too?” Y/n asked. Esmee nodded her head and smiled.

They both laughed at the serendipity of the situation.

"Looks like we'll be teammates soon," Y/n said, a genuine smile spreading across her face.

Esmee nodded, returning the smile. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to it."

“Do you want to swap jerseys?” Esmee nodded at Y/n’s request. The American went to grab her white #17 jersey and pulled it from over her head. She passed it to Esmee as Esmee handed her the orange #22 jersey.

As Y/n slipped on her new friend's jersey, the fabric enveloped her in a sense of comfort. The faint scent of sweat mixed with a hint of Esmee's perfume lingered, adding a personal touch to the garment. Adjusting the jersey on her body, she couldn't help but appreciate the subtle reminder of Esmee’s presence. Even if the girl is standing four feet in front of her. To y/n, it wasn't a creepy fascination, but rather a fond appreciation for the new bond they’re sharing.

This interaction didn’t go unnoticed by other players and news photographers who took pictures of this interaction. Lindsey Horan, the United States captain, talked to her Lyon teammate Danielle Van De Donk. The shorter Dutch woman nudged on the blonde’s shoulder before pointing at Esmee and Y/n.

Y/n didn’t swap jerseys with opposition players often. Usually, she will toss her jersey up to a USWNT fan in the crowd after a match. The Lyon teammates giggled before returning to their initial conversation.

(pretend you’re aitana bonmati in the picture below)

wosonews

liked by arnselfan347, yn.hive, and 12,947 others

United States International Y/n L/n (Bayern Munich) is seen exchanging jerseys with Esmee Brugts (PSV Eindhoven) from the Netherlands Orange team. Both players are heavily rumored to be joining Barcelona after the World Cup. Thoughts? 🇺🇸🇳🇱🇪🇸

comments

ynbrugts78 to me this is confirmation of them both joining barcelona omg🥹

billybob27 they're both great players. barcelona will be stacked

vandedonkhive 😍😍

wosocouplespage I ship

bayernwomen.56 same icl

chelseabluezz i wanted y/n to join chelsea with mia fishel🥴

arnselfan347 spurs were trying their hardest to sign y/n. i don't blame her for choosing barcelona, thats a great opportunity too 💙

manchestunitedwomens7 esmee come to manchester united ❤️

----

It's mid-january and y/n settled into her new life at FC Barcelona pretty well. She impresses the soccer/football community with her quality and finishes in matches. Being the second highest goalscorer (behind Caroline Graham Hansen) in Europe wasn’t easy.

Esmee came to Barcelona the day before Y/n did in August. The duo couldn’t be separated on and off of the pitch. Their chemistry was undeniable, their shared passion for football helped their bond too. Through it all, Y/n and Esmee found solace in each other's company. As they trained and shared moments in Barcelona together, their friendship blossomed into something deeper, something they couldn't ignore forever.

Back on a saturday in October, the Catalan sky painted in hues of pink and orange, when their love finally came to light. Y/n looked at Esmee and couldn't resist the urge to kiss her while she was talking. She leaned in on the dutch who kissed her back immediately, as if it was a natural feeling to them. Y/n pulled back and smiled before Esmee leaned into her, being the one to Ignite the second kiss.

Y/n’s birthday is coming up in a few days and everyone on the team is aware of it. They all had a plan which involved getting “Esmee and her together.”

That’s right, the couple decided to keep their relationship away from the team. Esmee and Y/n believed in keeping their relationship to themselves before they’ll reveal it to everyone else. However, their attempts to act normal and platonic around each other didn’t work.

Ona, the second-closest person to Y/n on the team, teases her about Esmee. The entire team believes that their chemistry is undeniable too, why are Esmee and Y/n avoiding each other?

The short Spanish national went to a few of her teammates to talk about it. Salma, Lucy, Aitana, Bruna, and Mariona to be exact. At first, Aitana brushed it off as the two 20 year olds having a silly crush on eachother, until Ona explained the amount of times she saw Esmee and Y/n hug for “a little too long.”

Salma recalls Esmee jokingly tapping Y/n on the butt at training last week. When she asked Y/n about it, the American giggled about it and said that it’s just a “friendly joke.”

Mariona recalled another time where Y/n slipped up about sleeping over at Esmee’s house. The American didn’t notice her slip up, so the Spanish woman didn’t confront her about it. She decided to just let it go until she heard about others on the team seeing them flirt together.

Bruna came up with a plan that will start before the Levante game in the Supercopa tournament. At first, everyone agreed except for Salma and Mariona. Who didn’t want Esmee and Y/n to hate them for what the plan will include. However, Lucy adjusted a few things so Salma and Mariona would be comfortable with the idea, which worked.

“You know, I can’t wait for Salma to finally ask Y/n out after the game.” Bruna announced in a small training group before the Levante game. Ingrid, Mariona, Keira, Irene, Claudia, and Esmee were a part of the group. Mariona and Bruna had to tell the others what the plan between Esmee and Y/n will be. Most agreed to the plan. Ingrid was going to refuse to be a part of it, but relented.

Mariona looked towards Esmee to see the girl with her eyebrows slightly raised at Bruna, her lips were held together with a confused look. “Salma is asking Y/n out?” The Dutch asked.

“Yeah, Salma has had a crush on Y/n for a while. She has a good feeling about tonight's game and will ask her on a date if things go well.” Keira said. Esmee’s facial expression flashed between looks of jealousy and guilt.

She’s jealous because she knows the growing friendship happening between Y/n and Salma. The Dutch know that y/n would never do anything to betray her trust, but the feeling of someone adoring her just like she does made her feel uneasy.

Esmee felt guilty too because she likes Salma as a friend. She didn’t want to see Salma get rejected because Y/n is in a relationship that nobody else knows about.

“That–That's cool.” Esmee swallowed as she walked away from the group and towards the bench to grab some water. The girls giggled quietly knowing that Esmee felt jealous.

Another group away from the first one consists of Aitana, Salma, Vicky, Lucy, Cata, Marta, Ona, Caroline, and Y/n. The girl’s except for Y/n knew about their plan on “forcing Y/n and Esmee to confess their feelings to each other.”

“It looks like Mariona is flirting with her.” Ona speaks to the group as she looked towards the group with Mariona in it. Y/n didn't pay attention to what was said before until now. She curiously raises her eyebrows as everyone else looks over at the other group.

“Flirting with who?” Y/n asked. Mariona told her that she is interested in a girl named Lia Waelti, so she's confused about Mariona's supposed behavior from Ona.

“With Esmee.” Ona said. Y/n nearly coughed at this. The Spanish girls are extremely friendly and affectionate but y/n learned to adapt to it over time. However, hearing this news made the American girl’s eyebrows raise dramatically. She lowered them when she saw a few of the girls look at her.

“Oh. Does she like Esmee?” Y/n swallowed in nervousness. Lucy, who's on her left, tries her hardest to not laugh.

“I think so? She hasn’t said anything but she is overly interested in her.” Aitana said.

“Oh okay.... I’m positive it's nothing.” Y/n continued to do the stretching routine the girl’s were assigned to do as the Levante game started in twenty minutes. She did feel her mood change at the news, but nobody knew about Esmee and her. She couldn’t be mad if Mariona did like Esmee.

Two hours later, Levante is defeated by Barcelona in a 7-0 win.

Salma Paralluelo 12', 45 + 2'

Y/n L/n 24', 26', 64'

Caroline Graham Hansen 54'

Aitana Bonmati 57'

This wasn't Y/n's first hat trick of the season, but she felt relieved after the semi-final match ended. Now they''ll go play in the Supercopa Championship game.

Y/n placed on her green Barcelona puffer jacket and grabbed her pink prime water bottle, taking a good sip which hydrated her dry throat from the cold weather.

She took a deep breath before looking over to see Mariona talking to Esmee. A small lump formed in her stomach from nervousness. Y/n is confident that Esmee wouldn't do anything that she wouldn't want her to do, but the tiny bit of jealousy showed on her face.

"You should tell her how you feel." A voice broke through Y/n's thoughts. Salma's voice.

Y/n remembers that she didn't tell anybody about their relationship. Maybe it's time to tell Salma before somebody's feelings get hurt.

"We are already together." Y/n looked at Salma whose eyes widened.

"What do you mean?" Salma asked. She felt nervous as she didn't expect this news after the plan she helped create. Placing her balms into her jacket pockets, her attention is fully on y/n.

"Esmee & I met at the World Cup. We were friends but we weren't so "platonic" after we moved here. In October we made our relationship official. We were going to tell you guys when we felt like the time was right." Y/n ranted to Salma. The Spanish girl nodded her head, realizing that everything is starting to make sense.

"I'm not shocked. Not surprised even." Salma joked. The two girls broke into laughter which didn't go unnoticed by the Dutch girl who finished talking to Mariona.

Y/n, with her radiant smile and effortless charm, seemed completely at ease while talking to Salma. Esmee couldn't help but feel a tiny pang of jealousy gnawing at her insides, a nagging fear creeping into her thoughts.

She bit her lip, her eyes flickering between her girlfriend and Salma. Remembering Bruna's conversation about Salma asking Y/n out, Esmee walked up to the girls before the Spanish girl had the chance to ask her girlfriend out.

"Great game you guys!" Esmee acted casual as she smiled, high-fiving Y/n and Salma. Esmee did play as a left back for all 90 minutes and assisted Aitana's goal and Y/n's third goal.

"Great game Esmee." Salma smiled back as she high-fived the Dutch back. She stepped back afterwards and looked at the duo in front of her. The happiness radiated off of her face seeing her friends who were confirmed to be in love with each other.

"Great Assists Es." Y/n grabbed Esmee's left hand and squeezed it twice before letting go.

"Y/n can I talk to you for a few minutes?" Esmee asked. Salma looked at the couple and took Esmee's question as a que to talk to them later. She said bye before walking to talk to Alexia, Frido, and Jana, who were injured and couldn't play.

"What's up?" Y/n and Esmee walked side by side as they're walking to the dressing room.

"Not much. Did you hear about any rumors coming from the girls lately?" Esmee asked. She hoped that Y/n had an idea on Salma's supposed crush on her.

Y/n swallowed nothing in nervousness, assuming that Mariona had interest in Esmee.

"Ona told me that Mariona is interested in you." y/n talked in a low voice. Esmee's jaw dropped and her eye brows raised, not expecting that to come out of her girlfriend's mouth.

"Wait what?" Esmee asked.

"Yeah. Before the game they said that Mariona was flirting with you." Y/n said. Esmee's eyes widened, she knew Mariona wasn't flirting with her at all because she already has her eyes on someone else.

"Before the game Bruna told me that Salma wanted to ask you out." Esmee confessed. Y/n nearly laughed at that information.

"Oh no never! Salma has a girlfriend in the WSL.... I can't believe the girls would tell us this." Y/n said.

Esmee nearly laughed before saying, "I believe they would. I think they were trying to make us jealous of each other."

The couple walked into the dressing room, getting ready to shower before leaving the stadium, then the girls realized that they're alone.

"You know.. your dribbling skills impressed me so much today." Y/n spoke seductively as she walked across the dressing room to Esmee, who sat down in the chair in front of her cubby hole.

Esmee held the side of y/n's toned thighs gently, pulling the girl into her lap. Obviously, this is nothing unfamiliar to y/n. She softly held the Dutch's neck, right under her braids, and softly kissed her lips.

Y/n had no awareness of her surroundings, she held on to her girlfriend as she felt her hands slide down to her butt, giving it a few squeezes. The girls made light noises.

As Esmee moved off of y/n's plump lips, going down her face then neck slowly. A few footsteps amplified with cleats approached the dressing room.

"Woahhhh!!!!!" Mariona yelled as she's the first to walk in the dressing room. Salma and Keira look over her shoulder, seeing y/n quickly stand up and walking away towards her own spot in the dressing room. Surprisingly, she wasn't embarrassed as much as anyone else would.

"I knew it!!" Keira laughed as she lightly smacked on Salma's shoulder in excitement.

Y/n look at Salma with a smirk and shook her head, Esmee looks away from the trio who walked in the room and tried not to laugh.

"We've been together since October. We confessed our feelings a long time ago." Esmee spoke with a smile, looking at Mariona. The Spanish girl wasn't surprised at all, only shocked that she didn't notice earlier.

"I told Salma earlier." Y/n commented.

"Hey, what's going on!?" Seventeen year old Vicky Lopez walked into the room with a bright smile. The curls on her head bounced as she walked towards her spot beside Salma in the dressing room.

"Oh nothing much. We just saw these two lovebirds in here." Salma talked to Vicky as she pointed at Esmee and Y/n.

"I knew it!!! They've always looked at each other with much love." Vicky responded to Salma.

After revealing their relationship to the team, everyone was happy. However, nobody was surprised. Esmee and Y/n didn't make much of an effort to make things secretive, and couples forming in Barcelona Femeni is not a rare occurrence.

Esmee and Y/n decided to confirm their relationship to social media a few weeks later.

(pretend this is you and esmee in the pictures below)

y/n.l/n and esmeebrugts

liked by aitanabonmati, alexiaputellas, and 31,623 others

for me there is only you 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

comments

salmaparalluelo lovebirds ☺️

wosonews OH MY GOD??!!!!

y/nbayernfan5 I KNEW IT OMG IM FREAKING OUT

ingrid_engen 😍🥰

y/nbrugts789 MY FAVORITE COUPLE😭💙

alexmorgan13 this is too cute ❤️

nswlwavefan so many woso couples spawn in barcelona lol 😂 so cute❤️

sophsssmith so happy to see you happy 🤩

brunavilamala 🥹

janafernandez3 I predicted it!!!!

---

an: hope you enjoyed :)

#esmee brugts #woso fanfics #woso x reader #oranjeleeuwinnen #uswnt x reader #wwc 2023 #fc barcelona #woso community #barcelona femeni

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random-brushstrokes · 2 months

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Jaspar Beckx - Portrait of Dom Miguel de Castro, Emissary of Congo (1643)

Archival sources mention that Dom Miguel was head of a diplomatic delegation whose mission it was to gather European support in a conflict in their homeland, then named Kongo, in Africa. The delegation travelled both to Dutch Brazil and to the Dutch republic in order to negotiate support from the Dutch West Indian Company (WIC) which was in charge of colonial matters related to Africa. Dom Miguel was ambassador for the count of Sonho (Soyo), Daniel da Silva, the other part in the conflict being King Garcia II. In 1642-43, both sides sent diplomatic missions to negotiate with the WIC. The Dutch had just won Luanda in Angola, and therefore they were interested in maintaining good relations with leaders in other West African regions. Like other European countries, the Dutch republic took part in the colonial trade that implied import of enslaved Africans to the colonies overseas. The African leaders sold war prisoners, victims of territorial conflicts in their homelands, to the Europeans who shipped them to the Americas as enslaved people. For the Europeans, they were indispensable manpower in the sugar plantations in the South American and Caribbean colonies. (source)

#Jaspar Beckx #dutch art #portrait #17th century art

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seat-safety-switch · 5 months

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In a lot of countries, travelling four or five hundred kilometers by car is a big trip. Dutch folks would expect you to bring back a gift, take photos, and be gone for a week or two. You would legally be required to take your mistress with you in Italy. Here in Canada, that barely gets me to the next major city and back. Our country is way too spread out.

Americans: a kilometer is like a mile, but not as big. They're the tiny numbers on your speedometer. That's the gauge that tells you how fast you done be goin'. It also tastes faintly of bleu cheese. The kilometer, that is, not the speedometer.

A hundred years ago, people would simply not travel this far in a single day. If your friends and family moved five hundred clicks away, you would just never see them again, instead of multiple times per year. The automobile is the great equalizer in this regard, but one thing that hasn't updated are our pitifully low, revenue-generating speed limits. Now, some people can travel this distance weekly, returning from their distant jobs to their overpriced, highway-dependent, bedroom communities.

When presented with such a long distance to cover, sane individuals would insist upon a train system. In case you're unfamiliar, a train is a big box on rails that carries people from one urban centre to another. It can't be pulled over for speeding, so you get to blow past infuriated rural cops doing three hundred plus. Rest assured that we do have trains out East, but they suck. The reason why? Too many big boxes, not enough rails. Plus, they can't do three hundred, or even one hundred on most days. A classic fuck-up. Better to just not build anything at all, unless it's highways, say our betters.

Now you're on the highway with several thousand of your closest friends, watching out for cops together. You're going thirty over the limit when you pull into the slow lane to take a momentary rest, right before you return to the usual flow of traffic at speeds contraindicated by the safety warnings on the side of your tires.

All this is so that you can get to the next city over, buy the garbage you came for (metal flake airbrush attachment? You shouldn't have) and then immediately turn around to burn back home before it gets dark. Maybe if you're lucky, while you're filling up, you can send a few text messages to your friends who live in the target city, telling them you just missed them and that they should drop by next time they're down in your neck of the woods. That's the way to live.

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skylarsblue · 1 month

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★Sugar Cube★

★Red Dead Redemption★ ★Fem!Reader cause I was having a fem! day, use of Y/N(sorry), fluff, a tiny bit of hurt/comfort at the end, silly drunk Arthur at the start, I don't think there's sexual tension here but I could be wrong. The autism has overtaken me and he is all I think about, the depression wave is only kept at bay by this man.★ ★The border in the story is @fairytopea 's, if you'd like me to remove it I will :3★

The world rocked back and forth, a haze over the rolling fields of grass. Arthur slumped his head down a bit, looking at trees passing by. He had to be running, he was pretty sure walking didn’t make the world move so fast. This speed was extraordinary! Since when could he run so fast? He used to be quick in his youth, but nearing forty, his knees had really aged poorly. But here he was, zipping down a dirt road with agility, wind blowing past his face. With such grace too. Then, suddenly a bump, and he felt himself tilt dramatically to the side. Two long blinks and horse hooves hitting the ground came to his ears. He looked forward, seeing his trusty steed he’d been bonding with the past week dodging a tree to continue up the path. Arthur groaned a little and pulled himself right, then he leaned forward, weighed down by his own head. It was bumpy, but he rested his cheek on the horse’s neck, humming in a moment of peace when feeling the horse’s fur rubbed against his stubble. It was soft and warm. He always liked that about horses.

“Heheh, nice horsey.” He slurred, patting the horse’s side. It snorted, slowing down to a prance as the trees became thicker. Arthur continued petting the horse’s fur when it occurred to him that he was saying ‘it’. “Ah you’re not some random horse. Nah nah, I named you, right? Uh…what was it…” He mumbled, looking at the light brown color of the Clydesdale horse. A dusty color. Arthur gasped, a bit choked by his own saliva. “Dusty! That’s what I named ya! Ahh, Dusty you’re the best horse this side o’ the country.” He laid against her again, listening to her snort again, which made him let out a fit of giggles. Deep, short laughs that erupted from his chest. He looked around at the trees, and despite his fuzzy brain, he was able to pick out a landmark.

“Buh, camp. They're gonna make me go do some…stupid…tedious chore or somethin’.” The honey-brown haired man pouted. He huffed out a breath as Dusty went under a broken, spiky tree, approaching a lantern lit spot full of tents. The sun was setting. Dusty stomped past the horse ties and more toward the middle of the camp, catching the attention of some of the gang.

“Arthur Morgan, what the hell are you doin’?!”

Arthur winced at the shrill yell. He blinked slowly, looking in its direction, finding Miss O’Shea stood with her hands situated on her hips and a scowl ever present. He sat up slowly, hands grabbing the saddle so he wouldn’t fall, given how wobbly he was. “Heeyyy, Miss O’Sheaaa. Evenin’.” He nodded, though his head didn’t really come up afterward. The woman scoffed and tossed her hands up in exasperation, falling back to her sides with a smack sound. Lenny snickered from his place at the table. “You have fun at the saloon, Morgan?!” Javiar shouted to him. The man nodded again. The men laughed as O’Shea yelled for him to get down. He almost did until she called him a moron.

“‘Ey! I ain’t no moron! I’m quite smart, I’ll have you know.” He pointed, only for the loss of a stability point to send him leaning forward again. Dusty brayed as he landed against her neck once more. Arthur heard some more laughs from the picnic table but he didn’t open his eyes again. “Arthur Morgan, get your sorry ass off the horse.” She said again, and Arthur replied with a discontent grunt. “‘er name is Dusty, first o’ all. And two, no. Cause you called me a moron.” He replied defiantly, ending his sentence with a small hiccup. O’Shea blinked in awe at the utter sass as Arthur flipped his head over to keep from looking at her.

“Dutch, will you get your boy?” She motioned at the horse. Dutch chuckled around his cigar and held up his hands. “What makes you think he’ll listen to me? He’s a brat when he’s drunk.” He shrugged.

“Who’s drunk?” A sweetened voice asked. Walking around a tent with a bucket of water settled on her hip. “Arthur’s bein’ a brat.” Miss O’Shea huffed. Y/N set the bucket down and looked toward the horse, watching the rough and steely outlaw hum a tune while petting his companion, giggling quietly to himself when Dusty stamped a hoof into the ground and huffed. She laughed quietly behind her hand, watching him hug Dusty and mutter slurred praises. “Ah, I see, he’s drunk.” She nodded. “Drunk and ornery. We need him somewhat put together by tomorrow, so he needs to sleep this off, but the moron won’t get off the damn horse!” O’Shea shouted back at him. “Dusty!” He called back, more concerned about the respect to his horse than himself. Y/N giggled and shook her head. “You’re never gonna get him to listen with all that hollerin’. The way to get a stubborn boy to listen is to sweet talk’im. Lemme try.” She patted O’Shea on the shoulder before walking up to the Clydesdale.

“Arthur, hun, can ya look at me?” She asked. In an instant, he turned his head to look at her, and a goofy grin appeared across his face. “Heyyy, how’re you?” He asked. Y/N smiled up at him, feeling a sense of fondness bursting in her chest. She’d always been fond of Arthur, perhaps to the point of blatant favoritism. She didn’t really hide it either. While she might’ve been generally kind and helpful to the gang as a whole, it wasn’t hard to see when she gave him special treatment. When washing or fixing clothes, she’d take his without him asking, while she’d put up some resistance with the rest. When a petty argument broke out between him and someone else, she’d only really get onto the other party for saying something untoward, while Arthur’d get something half-heartedly scolding. “Let’s try to keep the peace, m’kay? Why don’t’cha go sit down and relax?” While someone like Micha got chewed up like a dog with a bone. Though, honestly, Micha probably had it coming most of the time.

She never outright denied her general adoration for the man, though she never explained it either. Maybe it was because he’d been the one to find her, help her out of the mess she’d been in. Or maybe it was because he was so helpful to her, to everyone. Or, perhaps, she just thought he was pretty. Could’ve been all of the above, really.

“I’m doin’ fine. You look like you could be doin’ better.” Y/N replied. He waved a hand with a light-hearted scoff. “Nah I’m fiiinne.” He went to get off the horse, dismounting with a wobble. He held his hands out in front of him to catch himself, and she readied to catch him if he went backwards instead, even if he was probably too heavy for her to carry. Thankfully, he stood upright, and pivoted with a smile. “See? Fine.” He said, as if he’d actually proven something. Y/N tilted her head and fought off some giggles, unlike the men at the table watching it all. “Sure, Arthur. How bout we get you lied down, hm?” She suggested, gently resting her hand on his arm to help keep him steady. Arthur shook his head and waved his hand dismissively again.

“Naaah nah, y’all got work to finish, I should help.” He said. Y/N sighed, her free hand coming to rest on her hip. O’Shea rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “I told you. Ain’t got no sense when he’s drunk.” The woman complained. Y/N held up a hand, silently telling her to settle down and give her a moment. If there was one thing Arthur was, it was a real bitter life. All iron and blood-soaked palms, tarnished leather and black coffee. It was how he’d been raised, and while it wasn’t something he’d grown to dislike, something being familiar didn’t necessarily make it pleasant. Y/N had seen peeks of something softer.

How tender his voice was when calming a horse, or how careful his lines were when he sketched a landscape, and how gentle his gaze got when left with a moment of peace. All these little moments of softness to help some part of him to stay alive, keep himself from turning into nothing but a selfish, shallow husk. But keeping it alive on his own had to be tough. Y/N had always been the caring type, even when it got her into dangerous situations. She’d grown less naive, but not less sensitive, and that need to let life flourish was something she held onto dearly. Be it a garden or a man who probably hadn’t had a hug in Lord knows how long.

“I think it’s real nice you wanna help, but ain’t you been doin’ a lot recently?” Y/N asked. Her voice was softer, sweeter, and it caught Arthur’s attention almost immediately. “Uh, well…” He trailed off and leaned into her hand, now giving a gentle squeeze to the tense muscle of his shoulder. “All that runnin’ ‘round, pickin’ up the slack. All kinds of stuff you barely got thanked for. Don’t’cha deserve a little rest? Even just a nap?” She asked. His shoulders loosened the more she spoke, like he was being lulled to sleep with a lullaby.

The blue eyed man hummed quietly, then began to nod slowly. “Yeah…Yeah I do a lot, don’t I? I guess a lil rest wouldn’t hurt.” He mumbled. Y/N smiled and slid her hand down to his, holding it carefully, despite the rough calluses and scars. With a cautious pull, she began to lead him, stumbling toward his tent. “I think you’re exactly right. So why don’t we get you situated for bed, hm? Maybe I’ll talk Dutch into gettin’ you some extra hours in the mornin’.” She said. With a look over her shoulder, she grinned proudly at the onlookers. That being the boys at the table, Dutch, and Miss O’Shea. All either with smiles of their own or agape mouths. She snickered before turning her attention back to Arthur, helping him duck into his tent and meander up to his cot.

He sat down with a grunt. “There ya go, ain’t that nicer than standin’?” She asked, reaching to remove his hat from his head. Arthur gave a noncommittal noise back, blinking slowly, trying to remove the haze in his vision. He was very sleepy all of a sudden, and his limbs felt oddly heavy. After dusting some dirt from his hat and setting it down, she pushed the strands of hair that’d fallen in his face out of the way. His hair had grown a bit, starting to reach the lower part of his neck. He let out a shaky exhale when her nails dragged over his scalp, and the sound brought a sorrowful feeling to her heart. It was something so small and quick, and yet it had such an effect. She hesitated to pull her hand back, playing it off as her fixing his hair a bit more as he fought to stay awake. “How bout we get you ready for bed, hm?” Y/N whispered. He peeked up at her, eyelids heavy and barely open to gaze at her features. Even in the dark her face made him feel warm, fuzzy, much like the alcohol he’d imbibed. He gave her a slow nod, yawning as she untied the handkerchief from around his neck. He helped the best he could, using the toe of his right boot to kick off the left one, then repeated the process for the other one. “Think you can manage your belt, hun?” She asked. He looked down at the golden buckle, as if actually considering if he could manage it, before he nodded and gave an affirmative grunt. She laughed under her breath as he struggled for a moment, picking up his boots in order to move them aside, lest he trip over them in the morning.

He managed, with a mild struggle, to get his belt undone and off. She took it from him and set it aside, being sure to remove his gun. He always kept it beside his bed or under his pillow, and she was going to honor that personal rule. “You need anything else, sweetheart?” Y/N asked, approaching him once again. She stood in front of him, close enough to touch, though his hands remained in his lap. She was dimly lit by a burning lantern in the far corner, running low on oil. His head felt heavy, but he forced his chin upward to look at her more. He opened his mouth, though words didn’t leave it. She smiled so sweetly, tucking his bangs back, watching him melt under it.

“Poor thing, all rusty steel and splitterin’ wood, ain’t no one takin’ care of you. You gotta be exhausted.” She said, letting his chin fall into her palm, supporting the weight for him, much to his endearment. He closed his eyes as she stroked his cheek with her thumb, undeterred by the roughness of his stubble. “Ain’t ever been rich enough for sugar.” He grumbled, words still a bit garbled, tongue tied from liquor. She clicked her tongue sympathetically. He unintentionally leaned forward, his forehead coming to rest on her sternum. She shifted her positioning for him to be more comfortable, hands coming up to the back of his head and neck. He just about groaned when she lightly scratched his scalp, and oh how delighted she felt at it. Though how much he’d been deprived of this hurt her heart, the fact he was letting her make up for it felt all the nicer. She’d take bittersweet as a middle ground.

“Arthur.” She cooed his name, getting a grunt in response. She moved her hands to help him tilt his head up to look at her, met with a sleepy gaze, black pupils overtaking the blue she’d come to favor. “Tell ya what,” She began. “Whenever you get sick of the bitter world, and you want a little break, you come tell me. You can get all the sugar ya want, ‘kay? Everyone deserves a little sweetness here and there.” She offered. He stared at her, limp in relaxation. He hummed. “Ya sure?” He asked, feeling her gently guide him off of her and down to the bed. She propped his head on the pillow, putting his hands over his torso. “Mhm, absolutely positive.” She affirmed, covering him with the quilt rolled up at the end of the bed. She gave him another scratch to his temple, seeing as he liked it so much. His eyes fluttered closed, sighing. “Mm, alrighty, I’ll keep that in mind.” He replied, words hushed. “Good, now get some rest, cowboy. You’re gonna need it.” She cooed again. He was out quickly, allowing her to admire him for a moment. He was plastered, she doubted he’d remember any of the conversation they’d just had. But she wouldn’t mind repeating it to him anyway, since she meant it wholeheartedly. Perhaps a little selfishly, she pecked his forehead before leaving his tent, not missing the unconscious smile it got from him.

He hadn’t forgotten. Not the core parts of the night, anyway. Even when he’d woken up with a blasting headache thumping behind his eyes, trying to piece together everything. He remembered the majority of her words, and he couldn’t forget the feeling of her warmth, and the delicate way she spoke. And it humiliated him for the entire morning, but even when he was visibly ashamed she was sweet.

He’d sat up on his cot and put his head in his hands, grumbling to himself about how stupid he was. Flushed across his cheeks and up to his ears. Maybe if he asked John to help him, he could dig a hole and bury himself in it, the man owed him anyway. He called himself a fool, only to hear a giggle that forced his heart to a stop. With a wince, he glanced to the side between his fingers. Of course, there she stood, illuminated by the morning sun, holding a steaming cup of coffee. “A foolish decision doesn’t necessarily make a fool, Mr.Morgan. It’s several foolish decisions that make a pattern, then, that makes a fool.” She said, stepping into the tent. He slid his hands off his face and hesitantly took the cup she held out to him. She was trying to make him feel better, he knew that, and damn it worked.

“How’s your head feelin’, cowboy?” Y/N asked. He grumbled, rubbing his eyes. He could feel his heartbeat in the sockets, and the sunlight certainly wasn’t helping. He heard her chuckle as he sipped at the drink. It’s warmth nothing compared to hers, and shamefully, he wished to feel the heat of her palm on his face again, sober this time. “Asked Charles to grab some tea when he and Hosea had into town today, always helped me with headaches when I had it. I’ll make you a lil if it doesn’t settle soon.” She promised. He thanked her quietly, feeling her pat his shoulder. His tongue felt like metal in his mouth, weighing down the words he needed to use. He swallowed as she pivoted to leave, and he felt his chest tighten as she did.

Y/N paused when he coughed a little too poignantly. She looked over her shoulder, finding him fidgety and shy as he looked at the ground. “Yes, Arthur?” She asked, turning to look at him again. How sweet it was when he could only manage a quick glance before his cheeks flushed again. “I uh, ahem, last night…” He started, bouncing his leg slightly. She nodded and motioned for him to continue. He took in a deep breath. “You uh, you offered uhm…” He was so bad at words, it was one of his many faults. Either he spoke before he thought, or he used the wrong word and messed up the entire sentence, or he’d choke on whatever he wanted to say and they’d get sick of waiting, making him lose an opportunity. She had patience though, and let out another breathy laugh. Fond and kind, not mocking.

“I offered you sugar, yes. I said you could ask, whenever ya wanted, and I wouldn’t mind.” Y/N reiterated. He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, staring down at the coffee in the little mug in his other hand. “So, uh, does that offer-” “It still applies when you’re sober, mister. Don’t worry.” She confirmed. Arthur swallowed. It felt like syrup, thick and encompassing, making him sluggish. He was still aware of the spiking pain in his skull, and while he knew it was his own fault, he would’ve loved relief. Even if he didn’t deserve it, to feel her nails gently pet at his head again sounded like heaven. He was a man of pride, and as mean as he could be, all rough and guarded, he still had a boyish sense of timidness when asking for something so nice. But she offered, and he wasn’t sure when he’d get another chance. He’d been told before he needed to get better at knowing when he waited too long, and when he went too quick. Now, he hoped he was picking right.

“I uh…this coffee’s kinda harsh.” He held up the cup a little awkwardly. Y/N blinked before her expression softened, and he felt like ice under the heat of a fire as she walked back to him slowly. “That right?” She asked. Arthur cleared his throat and nodded. “Little harsh on the headache ‘s all.” He replied quietly. She tilted her head before her hand rose up, finding its place on his temple. With a little pressure from her thumb, she rubbed small circles, and it helped ease the ache. “So you’d prefer somethin’ a little sweeter, huh?” She asked. His shoulders loosened, and like the night before, his eyelids grew heavy. He nodded slowly, sighing when she lightly scratched at his scalp. “I got’cha.” She whispered, using both her hands to help combat the headache, even rubbing around his eyes, where it hurt the most. At this rate, he might not even need the tea she’d offered. However long she stood there, he relished all of it, the coffee growing colder by the second. When her hands finally stopped, coming to rest on his shoulders, his headache hadn’t vanished but was far more tolerable.

“How’re you feelin’?” She asked. Arthur stared up at her sleepily, face lax, and if you’d asked her, she’d say he seemed drunk again. “Better.” He confirmed. Y/N grinned, giving the muscle of his shoulder a light squeeze. Then her name was called. She winced and looked back at him. “I gotta help fix that wagon Micha’s idiotic ass broke.” She huffed, and he snickered. “I’ll be alright. Thank ya.” He replied. Y/N couldn’t stop grinning, and she was certain her expression showed her adoration, not like she was trying to hide it. “Alrighty then. Just lemme know if ya need anythin’.” She rose her hand to his hair, mussing it up this time. He groaned and went to fix it, listening to her giggle as she left the tent. He caught a glimpse of her right before she disappeared from line of sight, sighing when she was gone. He was a little too familiar with the ache he had to follow her.

“Shit.” He sighed, raising the coffee to his lips again. This time, he winced at the taste. Maybe he wasn’t as into bitterness as he thought he was.

From that day on, he progressively got more and more needy for a shot of something full of sucrose. It was subtle most of the time, mostly to avoid all the teasing the rest of the gang would undoubtedly give. But he’d started to ask even when others were around, and oh how it helped, even on the worst day.

On the third day since he’d arrived drunk off his ass, he’d muttered something about he and his horse missing sugarcubes on hard days. He’d been battered around by mother nature trying to get fish for that night’s dinner, laughed at by Javiar because a trout jumped out the damn river and smacked him in the face. Then Dusty caught sight of a snake in the grass on the way back, turned too quick, and had him slide off the side into the dirt, scraped up his elbow and dent the bill of his hat.

She’d heard him and paused what she was doing, turning to him with that gaze full of sympathy. She used her foot to pull over a stool beside her, motioning with her head for him to sit. When he did, she carried on with her task, but did her best to keep her hand somewhere on his back, caressing light circles in his shoulders as she recounted how grateful she’d been for what he’d done the past week. Unashamedly inflating his ego, and oh how it helped, having him leaning on the table as he listened to her praises.

Then a week passed and he’d gotten caught in the rain, without his horse. It’d been his fault for thinking a walk was a good idea when he knew the clouds in the distance spelled out a storm, but he’d been so sure he could’ve made it back in time. Of course, he didn’t, and he arrived back into camp soaking wet and muddied. The rain had turned to a light sprinkle but he was dripping water and scowling. He’d nearly punched Micha’s jaw off when the man took joy in his misery, until he caught sight of Y/N sewing a hole in Karen’s tights under cover. She saw his sorry state, and just like before, gave him a smile. An aura of ‘you poor thing’ that made him want to curl up in her lap. As if he wasn’t a grown man with more than a few bounties to his name.

He’d trudged over with an expression more akin to a pout than a scowl. She looked up at him as he stood, dripping water. “You know, before the storm hit, I cleaned some of your clothes. Should be dry by now. I even had some of that scented soap left, lavender.” She said. Arthur sighed and nodded, he hadn’t said it, but she knew the ‘thank you’ was in his mind. He went off to his tent, finding the clothes she was talking about laid out and ready for him. The anger that’d built up began to dwindle as he changed into them, hanging them up along with his hat before he made his way back to her.

She looked up from sewing and smiled. She grabbed the stack of clothes she was tasked with sewing and moved them aside, offering up the space beside her. He sat down close enough, their knees touched, sighing when she patted his leg. “Good job today.” She said. Three words, and it made him sink down, eased and peaceful. He muttered his gratitude and listened to her hum a tune, sound mixing with the sound of water hitting the earth.

By the second week, he’d grown accustomed to asking a little more blatantly. Asking if she had anything sweet after dinner, if she knew how much sugar cost at the shop, if she knew of anything candied to chase down the burn of some whiskey. Each time, she’d reply casually, but sneak in her tender touches and merciful gaze. She’d give him a once over and always knew just how much sugar to pour into his cup. On days where he only needed a little, she’d give him encouraging praise and a pat on the back, enough to keep his chin held high. On worse days, she’d overload it, allowing him to lean his head against her as she distracted him from his day with recountings of her own. Oh, and petting his hair, he always seemed to like that.

It’d really gotten more obvious to the gang. Leading to some teasing and hushed conversations, mostly the girls asking if they were sweet on one another. Arthur had flushed bright red, though it’d been hidden by a light sunburn, and waved his hand. Talking over them to make it clear he didn’t wanna hear it. While Y/N, mysterious as always, had shrugged with a cheeky grin and sauntered off. Really, it wasn’t hard to realize why they’d ask. Tilly said she’d seen Y/N look at him like he’d helped raise the sun every morning, Mary-Beth replied with Arthur’s pension for drawing her when he thought no one was looking. A whole page spread dedicated to her, she claimed. Though, none of them were quite foolish enough to try and nab his journal to look and confirm. But, Karen did like the sight of it. As brazen as she could be, she’d always loved romance in books, and she wouldn’t lie and say that the interactions weren’t entertaining.

She slipped her theories to Dutch when she overheard he’d be sending Arthur into a town just past Valentine to check around, see if he could find anything useful. He wasn’t sure who to send with the boy, even if Arthur was pretty capable on his own. Dutch wasn’t one for match-making, and he didn’t like meddling in romantic affairs, not when there were important things to look after. But, Arthur had been good to him, and it wasn’t like Y/N hadn’t done well with all the tasks he’d given her. He couldn’t see the harm in getting them a little alone time. Maybe it’d do Arthur some good.

Thing was, getting there was fairly easy, if you ignored the run in with some men that Dutch had pissed off half-way through. Or the mini dust storm that hit them suddenly. All of which culminated in them getting into town as the sun was setting, something that pissed Arthur off immensely, since he had stuff that needed buying. Chances were the shops would be closed by now.

“Could rob’em.” Y/N whispered as she tethered her horse outside a hotel. Arthur paused the process of rolling his sore neck to look at her, eyebrow raised. “I thought you preferred payin’ shopkeeps.” He replied. “I was kiddin’, Arthur. There are better places to rob and people more deservin’ of losin’ money.” She gently smacked his arm with a snicker. Arthur grumbled, adjusting his hat. “I’ll get the room situation handled, just see if anyone’s open.” She said. “Yes ma’am.” Arthur held up his hands, beginning to walk across the street. “And I mean it! Pay fairly!” She shouted to him whilst she made her way to the hotel door, getting a hand wave in response.

“Good evening, ma’am.” The man behind the counter greeted her. An older man with a thick handlebar mustache. “Evenin’. What’s the price of a room, sir?” She asked. “Two beds is five dollars a night, a single is two dollars.” He replied. Y/N winced and considered her options for a moment. She imagined Arthur wasn’t too picky, but she worried maybe it’d be a little uncomfortable. But, if he really did feel that way, she could simply sleep in a chair. She shook off her worries and nodded. “A single then, please.” She replied, getting a nod. She grabbed her money as he grabbed the key. “Ah, do you have baths? How much do they cost?”

“About 25 cents, a dollar for a wash girl.” The man replied. She shook her head and slipped him forty cents. “I have a friend I’m stayin’ with. His name’s Arthur. Blue eyes, stubble, black hat, covered in dirt. Can’t miss’im.” She smiled. “If you could tell him I paid for a bath and the room, I’d appreciate it. Lord knows he’s earned it.”

The man nodded and pointed back to the bath rooms. Y/N thanked him again. She didn’t plan on staying in there long, just a quick rinse. She preferred not dragging outside into bed with her, gritty sand and dirt didn’t make for a good bed mate. She was out and set up in the room before Arthur arrived, she figured he’d found an open shop, maybe bargaining. He always said haggling was easiest when someone was tired or drunk, and it was best to strike a deal whenever possible. Just so long as you could be away fast enough before they realized how short the straw they drew was.

Her assumption was correct. Arthur managed to buy what Dutch told him too, had his bag heavier than before, weighing on his shoulder. The man bit back a wince when he raised his arm, rolling his shoulder, hoping it’d loosen the muscle. It only caused a sharp stabbing pain to pulsate from under his shoulder blade. He held his shoulder with his opposite hand and pushed into the hotel, finding the keeper about ready to leave. The man looked him over once and then gave a smile. “Arthur?” He asked, making the cowboy’s brows furrow. “Yes?” He replied suspiciously. “Young lady came in and paid for the room, and a bath. You made it just in time too, was about to close up.” The keeper explained, placing a key on the desk. Arthur picked it up and blinked. “A bath?” He asked. “She said you’d earned it. No wash girl though.” Arthur shook his head at that, mumbling a quick ‘thanks’ before making his way back.

The steam that rose from the water wafted in the air and beckoned him. He would’ve been fine washing up in a river, he’d done that plenty, since warm baths were a luxury. But it never stopped being nice when he could get one. He told himself to thank Y/N when he could, feeling the warm water help ease the tension in his back. That knot in his shoulder hadn’t left though, and relaxing almost made it worse. He hissed through his teeth but tried to set it aside, enjoy what he could. But when it came time to wash his hair, he found it hard to lift his hands that high.

He had a high pain tolerance, he’d been shot and stabbed plenty of times, but that didn’t mean he liked pain. If he forced himself, he could’ve done it, but it felt like another stone thrown at him when he’d already been in a rock slide. One last little thing to mess with him, make his day a little worse. He grumbled to himself, rubbing at his shoulder again, cursing the air. He glanced up from the bubbles in the tub when he heard light steps down the hall, then a light knock at the door. He frowned and furrowed his brows. He didn’t pay for a wash girl, and given the time, they’d probably all gone anyway.

“Arthur? You in there?” Y/N’s voice spoke from the other side. His scowl turned into a mix of shock and shame. “Uh, yeah.” He said, coughing away a voice crack. He sank down a little more in the shield of bubbles when the door cracked a little, just enough for her head to poke in. “You took awhile, I was worried somethin’ happened. How long you been in here?” She asked. He shrugged. “Couple minutes.” He replied. He watched her gaze narrow, as if she was struggling to see, trying to make something out. “You ain’t washed your hair yet?” Her question made him sigh and flush pink. “Got a damn crick in my back, hurts to lift my arm. I’ll be fine, just gotta bare it.” He brushed off casually.

“Wh- Gosh, no. You don’t need to go hurtin’ yourself worse than you already are.” Without a moment of hesitation, she stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. She’d gotten ready for bed, white night gown flowing around her ankles, hair undone. “I’ll wash your hair, sit up a bit.” She motioned. Arthur’s chest felt tight, like his ribs were bars and a rowdy prisoner banged against them, his heart the criminal. “I can’t ask ya to-” “You ain’t askin’, I’m offerin’, sweetheart. You’ve had a hard day, least I can do is help get all that dust out of your hair.” She cut him off, rolling back her sleeves, settling down on the stool. He swallowed. That heavy syrup sensation had returned to the back of his throat, catching words that threatened to break past the barrier of his teeth. Once she was settled behind him, she caught him staring over his shoulder, and sent him a grin.

With a motion of her hands, he sighed, lamenting. It’d been a long time since he’d felt so…boyish, immature maybe. So embarrassed by something like this. He’d had baths in rivers in plain sight of the gang, had a few wash girls do this exact job before, all that never bothered him. Why was it because of her that he felt so shy all of a sudden? He wasn’t the shy type, he didn’t think so anyway. Arthur picked at his nails under the water as she wetted his hair. She used two fingers under his chin, tilting his head back a bit so she didn’t get soap in his eyes. “Relax, Arthur. I ain’t waitin’ to tear your throat out.” She whispered, hushed words sent the hair on his arm standing up. He forced his muscles to loosen as best he could, though forcing didn’t do much good.

He stayed awkwardly stiff until he felt her fingers drag through his hair. Like she’d touched his brain directly, flipped a switch, he eased more into the bath with a sigh, leaning his head back into her palms. She bit back a quiet giggle, scrubbing lightly. “Hair’s gettin’ pretty long, you should let me trim it when we get back.” She said absentmindedly, being sure to drag her nails over his temples and behind his ears. She bit her bottom lip to fight off a laugh again when he let out a little groan from the back of his throat.

“Ya hear me?” She asked. “Huh? Oh uh, yeah, sure sure.” He replied, voice thick and low with tranquility. She kept her loving teases to herself, let him enjoy the moment, she certainly was. Maybe it was because she knew he appreciated it that it felt so fulfilling. Could’ve been that she just liked feeling useful, needed. Whatever the reason, she relished in it, taking her time. Just to make sure she got out all the muck.

Of course, she couldn’t milk it for that long. Eventually, she had to rinse out all the suds, ring out the excess water. He kept quiet but missed the treatment when she stood up. “Need anythin’ else, hun?” She asked, leaning into his line of sight. Like before, he looked up at her lazily, like he’d been floating in the clouds moments before. “Hm…no, I’m alright. Thank ya.” He nodded. She nodded back. Arthur looked back down at the bath, knowing he’d have to get out soon. He heard her step away to leave, glancing up again when she was at the door. “I’ll see you in a bit.” She said before leaving him alone once again. He stared at the door for a while, swearing the room got dimmer when she left, less warm too. He huffed and rubbed his face with his hands, slowly exhaling between his fingers. Cursing to himself.

When he left the bathroom, now in clothes from his bag, hair still damp, he meandered up the steps. His body felt heavy, and if it weren’t for the stabbing throb in his back, he’d be looking forward to dropping on the mattress. He opened the door to the room, met with a lamp on and the quiet humming of a familiar tone. He stepped in and shut the door, finding Y/N with a book in hand whilst sat upon a singular chair. He looked around the room and caught her eye once he was done surveying it. “One bed?” He asked. “It was cheaper. Figured you wouldn’t mind, but if you do, I’ll sleep right here.” She replied. Arthur scoffed. “I ain’t havin’ you sleep in a chair. I’ll sleep there-” “No ya won’t. You’ll take the bed, mister. I’m not negotiating.”

Her tone was firm and she pointed a finger to get her point across all the more strongly. Arthur let his bag slip to the floor, staring at her in disbelief, before he let out a breathy laugh. “Fine. But I’m still not havin’ you sleep in the chair.” He replied, walking to the bed in order to sit down. She tossed her hands up after marking her place in the story. “Alright, ‘suppose I can agree to that.” She laughed, only for her smile to fall when he grunted in pain. “You okay?”

He looked over at her and nodded. “Fine, just my shoulder ‘s all.” He answered. She stared at him for a moment longer, watching him tug at the collar of his shirt, trying to cool himself down. It was the height of Summer, even the nights were getting humid and uncomfortable. “Hot?” She asked. “It’s this damn shirt. Only one I had clean, but it’s made for Winter. I’d take it off but,” He motioned in her direction, much to her amusement. Crinkling her nose, she snickered and shook her head. “You act like it’s some kinda curse. You can sleep shirtless, I won’t mind. It’s not like skin’s gonna kill me, Arthur.”

“Didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable ‘s all.” He retorted. “Well I ain’t, but you certainly are. Go ‘head. It’s not problem to me, but you dyin’ of heat stroke might be.” Y/N motioned with her hand and he tapped his fingers on his knee for a moment. He muttered something before taking her advice. She did her best to remain respectful, though she caught a couple glances, nothing too distasteful. Her face fell again when he hissed about his back again, and when he tossed the shirt away, a series of pops emanated from the muscles, making her wince in his place. “You sure you’re alright?” She asked, standing up, leaving her book in the seat.

“I’ve had worse. It ain’t pleasant but I’ll live.” The man said with a light cough, rolling his neck, that too popped rather loudly. He felt her hand come up to replace his, exhaling when she applied pressure to a specific point of soreness. It hurt, but in the way a stretch in the morning did. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she looked at his sorry state. It always made her ache, especially if it was something she couldn’t help fix.

Arthur wasn’t a good man, she knew that. But it wasn’t like she could judge. He’d never been anything but good to her, did right by the gang as best he could too. Every day she swore he did something else that went either unnoticed or un-thanked, and that killed her. Sure, there were probably men more deserving of kindness, people who didn’t rob and shoot to survive. But she hadn’t fallen for them, hadn’t ever met a man like that of which could compare to Arthur. When God came to judge the man’s soul, she’d gladly plead his case through the bars of the pearly gates. He’d been through enough, and when her mind ran away from her into a place darker than the night, she could sense it wouldn’t be ending any time soon. That hurt to think about. To worry about an unforeseen future likely full of strife of all sorts, things she’d probably have no say in, no ability to save him from.

But she had him safe for a night. In a place with walls and locks on doors, in her sights and close enough to touch. She couldn’t fix every problem he had, but she could make this night a little easier, surely. It was the least she could do.

“You trust me?” She asked. Arthur glanced up at her, a bit confused, but he nodded. She patted his shoulder. “Gonna seem a lil awkward, but just trust me.” She motioned with her head to the mattress. “Lie on your front.” He blinked a few times rapidly, clearly more confused than he was a second prior, perhaps a bit bashful. Y/N snorted and shook her head. “Easy, cowboy. Nothin’ like that.” She reassured. Arthur tilted his head back, tucking his tongue into his cheek as he glanced her up and down. After a short staring contest, he sighed and tossed his hands up a bit, doing as he was told.

“If this is how you plan on killin’ me, I commend your patience.” He commented, cheek set on a pillow. He heard her laugh, and it helped ease the tension in the room. He knew full well she wasn’t going to hurt him, he was just talking to fill the room with something else to focus on, given how uncomfortable it felt. Mostly because he wasn’t sure what was happening. He jumped when her weight ended up around his waist. “Easy, I told you it’d be awkward, but I need you to trust me here, sweetheart.” Her voice said, patting his arm. Arthur scoffed a little. “Pardon me for bein’ caught off guard, ma’am.” He sassed, getting a light thump to the back of his head, which he complained about.

“Hush. And keep your arms down, won’t work if you’re puttin’ stress on’em.” Y/N answered. He let his arms fall, grumbling about her being bossy, before he felt the heel of her palm press against his shoulder blade. His mouth curled into a hurt scowl, inhaling between his teeth. She rubbed a slow circle and hushed him quietly, instructing him to breath. It hurt, but the muscle began to loosen. She could feel the knot of tension under the skin, clicking her tongue sympathetically, it had to hurt like hell. “Okay. I need you to follow my instruction, ‘kay? I want you to take a deep breath, all the way until you can’t fill your lungs no more.” She whispered. Arthur did as told, not really sure where it was going, but he wasn’t up for questioning.

“Good, now, exhale it all. Until your chest is completely empty. Go slow.” Her words helped make him sleepier, more relaxed, which she knew good and well. It was why she was whispering. As he pushed out the oxygen until he was straining to keep doing so, with all her weight, she pushed into his back with her palm. A loud pop sound echoed off the walls with the quick following of a loud groan into the pillow he laid on.

She lessened the pressure and rubbed his shoulder again. “Did I get it?” She asked. Arthur didn’t give words, but let out an affirmative noise, face buried in the pillow. She smiled as he seemed to sink into the mattress the more she worked out the tension. She wasn’t content at just the shoulder though, so she moved over to the other side. Using her knuckles to trace around the bones. Every now and then, she’d stumble across another little knot, working them out with dutiful care.

“You fallin’ asleep on me, Morgan?” Y/N asked after some silence, pulling at the muscle in his lower back. Once again, he simply gave a noise. She snickered when she caught a yawn he let out. When he let out an appreciative noise when she worked at his waist, she chuckled again. “See, no one realizes how much strain we put on our lower backs until you’re in a position like this.” She commented lazily. “Mhm.” He replied. Y/N couldn’t stop smiling again, her cheeks were starting to hurt. She glanced down when she felt a warm touch on her leg, finding his hand turned toward her, lightly holding her ankle. She melted as his thumb carefully caressed the bone, a silent bit of appreciation. She knew full well she couldn’t left it there, but the moment was so sweet, and not easy to come by.

He blinked slowly when she leaned over him, tapping his temple. Her weight was off of him, something that kept him from dozing off. Arthur lifted his chin, looking at her in his peripheral. “Mind flippin’ over, hun?” She asked. He yawned again, nodding slightly. He moved from his stomach to his back, too relaxed to make a cheeky comment about her sitting back down. He rubbed his eye tiredly as she picked up his opposite hand. “Ya know, if someone asked me if you were drunk right now, I’d say yes. You look like you’re gone, mister.” She teased, pressing her thumbs into his palm before dragging the pressure down his wrist. Arthur let his other hand drop down, his vision a bit hazed over. “Might be.” He mumbled, barely opening his mouth to speak.

He smiled slightly when she laughed. He felt the pull of his tendons as she pushed his hand back, cautious to not over do it. “Sorry.” He commented unconsciously, the word slipping out without much thought. Y/N looked at his face with her brows furrowed. “What for?” She questioned, moving her hand up to his bicep. He flinched when the soreness became apparent under her touch. “My hands. Ain’t too nice for holdin’ I know.” He said. “Now why would you think that, Arthur?” She asked, squeezing the muscle that connected his neck to his shoulder. He tilted his chin out of the way as he thought of how to word his answer.

“You got dainty hands, all soft and nice. Mine…mine are all scratched up and tough. ‘s gotta feel like gravel at this point.” He explained. Y/N scoffed, taking his other hand in her own to repeat the process. “Oh shush, that ain’t true. They’re a workin’ mans hands, that’s all. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with’em.” She replied. “They ain’t kind like yours either.” Arthur retorted, making her pause for a second. She shook her head with a sigh, working out the tension in his scapulae muscle. She stopped and moved her hand to his jaw instead, prompting him to look at her.

She looked inviting in the warm lamp light, accentuating the curve of her cheekbones and the color of her eyes. How warm she was, and he could smell the hint of soap. “Robbin’ or not, you’re a good man, Arthur. Maybe not all the time, but you ain’t a monster either.” She said. His face showed he wasn’t buying it. He eased further when her hand dragged up, pushing his hair back. “No I ain’t.” He whispered back. Y/N clicked her tongue and grabbed his cheeks with both her hands, leaned close and eyes intense with the need to convey her point. “Arthur Morgan, look at me.” She demanded. He listened, even if it felt difficult to do.

“I don’t care bout the law’s definition, and I’m well beyond the words of the Holy Ghost. I don’t care how many men out there hope for you to hang, and I don’t care how much blood stains those hands of yours.” She stroked his cheekbone and up beside his eye, running over the lines that had formed in his skin, brought on by years of expressions. Mainly laughter and grins, things she savored every time she saw them. “The Arthur I know is a loyal man, a workin’ man, a brother and a mentor, a leader and a guard. He fights for what needs to be done and earns his keep, and then some. Your hands might be gun wielding but they’re also caring. When you draw in that journal, or when you pet your horse, pat Jack on the back like he was your own blood.”

His eyes had widened by now and his throat felt like it was being gripped, a pressure building up and threatening to break like a damn. It was so much to take in, too much, but looking away felt like blasphemy. He might not have been a man of worship, not to God, not anymore. But to sin against her might be what damned him, and he wasn’t ready for that. He never would be.

“You might be a bad man, but you ain’t been nothin’ but good to me. Whether you like it or not, you will always be a good man to me. And I’ll be damned if I let you go a day not knowin’ it.” Y/N finished, her voice a bit choked by now. She managed to keep her tears down, but her eyes got misty nevertheless. Arthur rolled his jaw and clenched his teeth, at loss for what words to say. She fixed his hair again and sighed. “Am I clear?” She asked. He stared, fidgety, before he sat up suddenly. She felt his arms wrap around her waist tightly, his forehead resting on her shoulder.

Y/N took a moment to process before she relaxed, bringing her hands to him once again. Her cheek rested on his head, scratching his scalp, the other hand resting on his shoulder. “You haven’t answered me.” She commented. Arthur squeezed her for a moment. “Loud ‘nd clear, ma’am.” He replied, voice a bit hoarse but not any less genuine. She smiled and turned to peck him on the temple. “I’ll keep tellin’ you til it sticks. Mark my words, Arthur Morgan. I’ll keep that bitter man you think you are at bay.” She promised. He managed a choked up chuckle against the fabric of her nightgown.

“I’ll hold you to that, sugar.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption x reader #fem reader #female reader #fluff

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langernameohnebedeutung · 8 months

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So I noticed something interesting linguistically during my Spanish lessons but then I couldn't find a reason why and thought maybe you would have an idea?

Why does the word 'German' change so much from language to language? I mean you said Deutsch but we say German. But then in Spanish, it's Alemán. That's a massive change across three language. And I know they're from different language families but it still seems like a big change, I wonder why

I mean...yeah, it's kind of a situation

The thing is, Germany was only united as a single country in 1871. Before that, it was really a conglomerate of many different small cities, dukedoms, and kingdoms under the Holy Roman Empire (and before that: Tribes)

Modern-day Germany was just beyond the edge of civilisation during ancient times - Everything to the west and South, including France and England, was conquered and named and cartographed by the Romans but Germania was what was on the "other side":

The beige part was where civilisation ended for the Romans. Everything beyond the Limes was barbarian woods and most attempts to conquer there ended in military disasters like the battle of the Teuteburger Forest so ...not much progress was being made.

The name "Germania", that was used for EVERYTHING beyond the Limes border was apparently adopted from the word the Gauls used for the peoples they knew were living right there on the other side - and which meant something like "people of the forest" or possibly "neighbours" (which means the Romans might have done that ancient thing where they asked the Gauls: "Who lives over there?" and the Gauls were "Oh, yeah, those guys are our neighbours who sometimes come to our markets and that we fight with sometimes and who talk a little weird" and the Romans were like: "Ah, so the name of everyone living in the great beyond is 'Neighbours' and just stamped that name on a large chunk of the continent full of people who had never met a Gaul and had never heard of the word "Germania")

And because that area wasn't centralised the way the former colonies of Rome were, this pattern continued - when "states" (there was no modern-day statehood then, I guess the closest word would be "Reiche" but that would be Empires in English but that also doesn't describe it accurately and Reich has a Connotation in English and kingdom suggests a kind of continuity that didn't exist yet...) interacted with the people who lived in these lands, they often falsely assumed a level of social cohesion that didn't exist. One example is when Charlemagne pushed East, he would often make deals with the pagan Saxon tribes to please stop raiding all the nice monasteries he tried to establish - but it happened again and again, and people at the time concluded that the Saxons simply didn't honour their word. The problem was, that the Saxons were not united under one ruler and were not one cohesive tribe - so just because one of them made a deal to stop raiding monasteries, this doesn't mean anyone else got the memo or felt obliged to stop plundering those monks.

Even today, this kind of happens: Like "teutonic" being used for "german" because Teutons were a German tribe or people identifying Germany with Bavaria bc they hear a lot about the Oktoberfest or "Prussian" and "German" being equated because between 1871 and 1918, the Hohenzollern, being both the royal House of Prussia and the Kaiserhaus, largely dictated Germany's foreign policy and impression to the rest of the world, and even before that posing the biggest counter-weight to the Austrian/Austro-Bavarian role on the German-speaking playing field and often symbolising the different cultures (e.g. protestant vs catholic) existing across the German-countries-minus-Switzerland.

And this is also how the name thing happened: "Deutsch" just means "of the people" and was largely used for the language (hence "Dutch", being a very similar language to German, also having that very similar name, except, since they were the "Low Countries" (flat as a pancake land) of the Holy Roman Empire, they eventually took that name for themselves and their language when they became independent - the Netherlands speaking nederlands, while Belgish dutch-speakers speak "vlaams" after the region "Flanders") But since Germany never "separated" from the Holy Roman Empire but is largely considered its successor, there was no reason to make a regional name the name for a new nation. It just remained "the nation/the people".

Over the centuries, the other countries usually took whatever name there was for the regional tribe of Deutsche/people they dealt with and applied that to the whole thing: If you dealt primarily with the Alemanni people, you would use a word like the French "Allemagne", the English lived on an island and mostly kept using the Latin name "Germania" - which became "Germany". In Finland and Estonia it's "Saksa" and "Saksamaa" because being in the East, they mostly dealt with Saxons.

This also turned into an international game of telephone eventually: People who didn't have much contact with different kinds of Europeans would just pick up whatever name the people they dealt with used for Germany. If you had a lot of contact with the French or Spanish, you would pick up a variation of "Alman", if you dealt primarily with the English or Italians, it would be a variety of "Germania"

Then you have countries like Japan, which entered international exchange very late and had a lot of contact with Dutch and German speakers - which is why they say ドイツ - "doitsu". In Mandarin it's "Déguó" - guó meaning "land" and "Dé" for Deutschland.

Then there is also the language barrier: The modern nation-states of Germany and Italy both were once part of the Holy Roman Empire and neither had a standardised language (even today, on the European continent, Germany and Italy might take the prize for the most variations of their own language on the home continent) or considered themselves "German" or "Italian" until very late. So they distinguished between the people who spoke all the variations of their own language and those people above/below the Alps who were absolutely incomprehensible to them due to speaking an entirely different language family - so the Italians also spoke of "tedesco", which is related to the word "deutsch". (Italy cleverly spared itself most of this chaos by not having a lot of neighbours to begin with).

Another language barrier issue was in the East, because that's where Germanic languages and Slavic languages meet. This meant that while everyone who was part of the German(ic) dialect family could communicate with their neighbouring towns and tribes and everyone on the Slavic side could communicate with their neighbouring towns and tribes, they were also faced with those weirdos from the other side of the language barrier who were speaking absolute gibberish (or maybe just stared at you like an idiot and said nothing when you asked them a basic question) That's why in many Slavic languages, the name for "Germany" is a variation of "Niemcy" or "Německo" - which means "mute" or "non-speaker" or "foreigner" - because those were the people they couldn't talk to. Vācija, Vokietija, and Vuoceja also work this way)

Meanwhile, in Germanic languages, it's often names that also incorporate the word "deutsch & land"- Duitsland, Tyskland, Deytshland, Däitschland, Þýskaland etc

(I think to do the language diversity and mutual communication argument some justice, I think it's also important to point out that there wasn't a lot of personal mobility for the average person at the time, so they probably also identified themselves by what little they saw of the world. If even today there are German-speakers that don't understand each other, that issue was bound to be amplified by 1000000 at a time with no standardised writing, no mobility, a thin population, small towns etc. So even if everyone between the furthest North-East of the Germanic language continuum and the lowest South-West could maybe somehow communicate with their respective neighbouring towns and tribes in pre-nation times, if you had snatched two peasants from the respective ends even of what is today Germany and sat them down on the table in the middle, there probably would have been to have even the most basic conversation or know that the other person spoke a variation of the same language - there is an old saying that "a language is a dialect with an army" - and for German, it's more "a dialect-continuum with a bunch of armies fighting each other until eventually, they got 1 army 2000 years late". Meanwhile for the educated, the lingua franca at the time was Latin.)

Now, a lot of countries ...well, eventually became countries. Which meant they could do some marketing of their own and establish their own name for themselves - but Germany, as I mentioned, was only united in 1871. Even if they considered their language "deutsch", they didn't consider themselves "deutsch" for a long time (and when they did, it was considered a radical idea) and as such, there was no centralised government saying "We are deutsch" the way the French kings said "We are French" or the English kings said "We are English" - in fact, the central authority until the early 19th century was the Holy Roman Empire. Their rulers considered themselves the successors of the old Roman Emperors - this was called the "translatio imperii" according to which Charlemagne was the first "new" Emperor" and the Empire continued until Franz II was forced to abdicate bc of Napoleon. Eventually, it was officially considered "Das heilige römische Reich deutscher Nation" - "the holy roman Empire of the german nation" - but that wasn't really a central aspect of anyone's identity.

The average person just identified by whatever colour their personal patch on this map was:

#InOurFlickenteppichEra

So no one really challenged to disagreed with someone speaking of them as "Saksa" or "German" and that's pretty much why everyone has a different name for Germany.

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