#glódís viggósdóttir x reader

[yeeterthek33per]

Kissin' and Kickin' Charm (Glódís Perla Viggósdóttir x reader)

A/n not requested, but this woman does not get the love she deserves, so I'm making it happen.

Munich is a hell of a lot different than home.

Of course, you expected that, you aren't stupid...

Not entirely anyway.

There's a charm to the city. A much different one than the small Texan town you're used to, but it's a homely charm, if any.

A much broader, explorative city with ins and outs, beautiful buildings, and on the outskirts, something you've come to realise you feel more at home in than the city, areas with wide open flatlands and albeit manmade, forested areas.

It's definitely a big city, with many towns and a lot of diverse structuring.

It's a lot.

But it's your new home.

At least for the next three years, anyway.

You imagine yourself at home in the ranch right now.

Kicking up dirt, green grass and if you're really lucky, mud and puddles. All of that on your horse, Sweets, that you got for your tenth birthday.

In fact, you'd be there right now, at home on the ranch, if it wasn't for one teeny tiny detail.

Soccer.

For whatever reason, that was the sport your child brain picked to become your newest obsession. Except, it never stopped being that way. You lived and breathed it.

It surprised the hell out of your parents.

They'd never imagined their little, quiet, leather boots, horseback riding, ranch loving daughter kicking around a soccer ball.

But that's what you wanted.

And that's what you did in your spare time.

At first, they were adamant you didn't play it. They refused, insisting that if you wanted to get into any sport, it had to be either American football or horse riding.

But after sneaking home a ball to boot around for the umpteenth time, they relented, letting you take it on.

And take it on, you did.

It got to the point where you were severely outclassing the only all boys teams in your tiny town.

Enough so that someone visiting, who happened to have the right associations, scouted you for the youth academy in Houston.

You went up through the academy, which survived despite the rise and fall of the women's league in the US several times.

Eventually, you were contracted for the first time at eighteen.

It was a big deal.

Small town girl makes her first appearance for the big leagues and despite your parents earlier disappointment in your choice of career, they were now prouder than ever watching you take on the world.

Of course, with that growth, came your first call up to the national team at age nineteen.

That little tidbit had your Mama crying harder than the day you were born. She couldn't have been prouder to see you represent your country.

Playing amongst the likes of legends like Tobin Heath, Heather O'Reilly and even Abby Wambach for a short period, you thrived.

The immense pressure was nothing like you'd ever felt, and you loved it.

Even as reserved as you are, you love a good challenge.

With the call-up, the demand to have you increased, and eventually, at the age of twenty-four, you, rather tearfully, said goodbye to the Dash and moved to Portland to join your national teammates, Sonnett and Horan.

You've spent the past four years there, although you aren't the biggest fan of the city life. You loved the soccer fanbase.

The thorns are well loved by the people in the city and some of the greatest players you've known, to date, play for them.

Of course, playing with the greatest players of all time means you yourself catch the attention of overseas scouters.

It's not the first time it's happened.

Every year, you get calls from your manager letting you know about the offers from clubs in countries you'd never dreamed of seeing before.

That being said, you'd always turned them down, not wanting to leave your home country just yet.

Until now, that is.

When the offer from FC Bayern came through, you just knew.

You knew you had to do it, had to take that chance.

"So what do we say, Y/n?"

"... Tell I'm in if they've got a heated pitch and air-conditioning."

Had your manager chuckling at that.

Taking the time to dig into the team a bit, you end having a look at the team list.

You know the names of a few of the players there, but you'd not formally met them yet, only meeting them once or twice on the pitch.'

One name stuck out in particular though.

Of course it did, she's the captain.

Your new captain.

But there's something you admire about the Icelandic woman that immediately grabs at your soul and you end up taking the time to look up her highlights.

The perseverance, the constant drive to do better and to lift up her teammates around her.

The perfect defence with constant push and pull, defensive manoeuvres and just an overall brick wall of a woman.

The perfect captain.

So when you meet her for the first time, you're a little starstruck.

Sure, you'd done your research in advance, but actually meeting the sweetly voiced Nordic woman has you anxious in your boots beyond measure.

----

When Glódís meets the new signing, she's a little thrown off.

She knew you were American, that you were from Texas and that you most likely had a very different upbringing to the lifestyle you lived now, but the immediate southern charm that flows through your natural southern drawl has her a little flustered.

She doesn't expect the charming smile or the way you call her ma'am and warmly shake her hand, expressing, rather sheepishly, your excitement to meet her.

"It's lovely meetin' you, Ma'am. I've heard a lot about everything you've done for this club and your country. It's incredible, actually, not to sound too much like I'm kissin' up here, but really."

Your head ducks a little, cheeks reddening at your own rambling.

It's adorable, she decides.

"You talk me up a lot for someone of her own incredible skill."

Her smile widens at the way your cheeks darken further under her teasing compliment.

"Oh, I mean, that's... it's not everything I want to achieve. It feels like I've had it a little easier than a lot of the ladies I've seen and played with and known personally. I'm just excited to be here and to get to be a part of something this big. With y'all, at that."

"We're glad to have you on board with us, then. I think you'll fit right in here. The girls have been begging me to let them in the door for the past thirty minutes while you were doing the contract signing."

She gestures to the windowed door to the room, which, with a quick glance, you spot the eagerly waiting players, grinning and waving like kids at you.

It makes you feel a little more anxious now.

Such big names in German and international football and here they are, giddily waiting for you to finish your media duties and finally get to meet little old you.

It feels surreal.

When you turn back to the captain, she's already smiling warmly back at you, and after the okay from you and the management in the room, they let them in.

It's almost too much, the way they all excitedly introduce themselves despite in many cases not having to, with the way you get flustered as you know them well already, having maybe, quite possibly also looked the rest of them up in a bit more detail, purely out of nervousness.

Also, the friendliness of it all.

Normally, with new signings at Portland, it always felt super cold and competitive, definitely a lot colder in the introductions, done during training rather than in a room on the campus.

Of course, after a couple of months, the players did warm up to you, but there's always the cold air about the veterans on the team, all of them wary of you and your abilities.

Always the stress of having your position on the team ousted by the new and shiny youngins for so much as running the wrong way.

Here, in Munich, Germany, in the clubs training facility, in a meeting room, your new clubs teammates welcome you with warm open arms, an air of bubbly enthusiasm and many, many hugs rather than the cold and firm handshakes you're used to.

You recognise a few of them, particularly Magdalena, a regular opponent from Sweden and her national teammate Linda, as well as of course, the German players, the English player, Georgia and Jill Baijings, a member of the Dutch National Team you'd faced just months before at the World Cup.

Regardless of the rivalry held at the international level, they're surprisingly warm, quickly dragging you into hugs themselves.

At least, it's surprising for you.

It feels different here.

It is different here.

You find yourself leaning into it more and more, the more you chat with the team.

It goes on for an hour or so before you're dragged away for more media duties.

The girls are rather reluctant to let their new friend go, waving you goodbye with warm smiles, but small pouts as their chuckling captain ushers them from the room, leaving you with one last grin and a wink that sends heat to your cheeks and shivers down your spine.

Well.

You'll be damned.

That just happened.

----

"She's so cute! I love her accent. She's so sweet with the way she talks too."

The gushing from Giulia is quickly resounded by the other's around her.

"Right? The way she kept calling us Ma'am and Miss. It's too sweet. And her accent, it's so smooth."

"Oh my god, I know Americans aren't the most well known for being nice to listen to, but I listen to her talk all day."

"She's really good too, I've seen her highlights."

There's a few small gasps and protests from around the room.

"Oi! Syd! Why haven't you shown us yet?"

"Hold on, let me just -"

"Guys! Seriously, what the hell are you doing? I've been looking for you for ages. Put the phone away, you all have training to do."

The resounding voice in the changeroom comes from a stern looking Glódís. She's normally quite gentle toned with them, but they were taking far too long to get out on the pitch, leaving their captain wondering where the hell half her team was.

"But we want to see how good Y/n is, Syd's got the highlights here."

"No, you can see how good she is when she joins us for training after her medical assessment. Now come on, or you'll be running laps for making the rest of the team wait on you all."

There's groans of disappointment, but to their rather swift credit, they do promptly exit the changeroom and make their way to the pitch where an also stern looking Alexander Straus is waiting for them, the team's manager, followed closely by Glódís, who's small smile contradicts her rolling eyes and annoyed head shaking.

----

When you do join them, you're quickly grabbed by Glódís, the captain having unofficially ruled that any new signings get paired with her first to properly welcome them to the team, and to also get them settled into her captaincy style and to adapt them to the dynamic of the team.

It's a way to get you properly integrated into the very familial like nature of it all.

Glódís seems very much like the mother of the team. All of them best friends but very much like siblings and but a few of the other older women taking the younger one's under their wings as parental figures on their own.

You figure it as a way to keep some semblance of structure amongst the chaos of the team.

The captain, it seems, is at the head of this, ensuring all of them work well together, the team is lifted for their triumphs, and picked back up with every miscalculated cross and shot, and dragged back onto their feet after every tackle or mistimed step.

Training with Glódís is intense, a good kind of intense. You find yourself enjoying the calculated, focused nature of her defensive manoeuvring.

But it's also warm, the occasional chatter between you leaving you both laughing at the other person's jokes and small mishaps as you settle in.

Her giggles are nothing if not contagious, and you can't help the grin that grows more and more the more you spend time with her.

It doesn't go unnoticed by the others, them taking note of the way their normally much more drill oriented captain has relaxed a bit.

Of course, she's friendly, smart, smiley and very much welcoming, but she's never been this laid back during drills, especially not when she's always expecting to set precedents with the new signings.

But this was definitely different to that.

The lingering touches, hip bumps and tone of laughter are different from the ones she's always held with the rest of the team. It's a little lighter, more giggly and full of a tone they themselves hadn't heard from her.

It was startling to see, nearly.

Glódís was... flirting?

Intentional or not, they didn't know, but it was definitely a flirty tone.

Not that you could tell, bless your oblivious self. You had no idea.

You matched the tone of lightness, of course. But you weren't picking up on everything else, thinking she's just naturally like that.

A very friendly captain.

The other girls know otherwise though, and the knowing looks they share later when your cute celebration after managing to meg the brick wall of a captain has her smirking slightly at your adorableness.

One thing she notices is that the more excited you get, the more your accent comes out.

It's adorable, she realises.

----

The second training isn't much different to the first.

You don't pay it much attention outside of friendliness, but Glódís takes a quick liking to you, now having claimed you for all paired warmups and drills.

Occasionally, you get stolen away every once in a while, leaving you feeling very much like the cool kid on the block.

There's something else, though.

It's in the way the Icelander smiles at you. It's in the way she hugs you every time you score in a mini game.

You brush it off, thinking, once again, she's just being friendly.

But it's a thought that sits in the back of your mind anyway.

You feel like it's a glimmer of hope. You're not sure what for or why but it's there.

Maybe it's a sign of a great friendship blooming.

Yeah.

That's what it is.

Ever since that, it's been amazing training with the team.

Your first match is just weeks after signing.

Your first minutes come as a sub for Klara in the sixtieth minute.

And it's not too long after that that you score your first goal for the club against Leipzig.

It's a beauty too.

A long range effort after a foward pass to Pernille is rebounded back to you.

It was an accident really.

You were aiming for the head of Lea but instead it curls a little more than you intend it to and it bends into the upper right corner of the netting, far past the outstretched gloves of the Swiss keeper, Elvira Herzog.

It feels a little silly, but you can't help the blush when you feel your captain hug you super tightly and lift you up in celebration.

"Let's go, that's our girl!"

----

It's been two months with the team and two and a half living in Germany. You've got a small cottage in the outer district of Munich, with enough yard to set up small drills and other various exercises.

There's been plenty of outings for you, finding yourself socialising far more than you used to back in Portland.

You don't hate it, though.

The whole team has been nothing but sweet to you, and it seems they're already attached, each player having dragged you on outings themselves, whether it be individually or with groups of them.

You're not sure why they've taken quite such a liking, but you think it might have something to do with the fact they keep asking questions for you and you alone to answer, or just anything to get you to talk, really.

You don't mind it. Bless 'em.

They're already like family to you.

Tonight is no different when it comes to being dragged to outings and team bonding nights.

Only this time, it's to a club in central Munich, having been allowed a little freedom given they dont a match this weekend. You yourself don't drink much, but some of the other girls do, so they've let loose, of course, under the watch of their captain and a few of the older girls acting as designated drivers.

There's a small nudge to your shoulder where you're leaning against a standing table.

"Hey you."

You'd recognise that sweet voice anywhere, humming as you turn to the suddenly appeared Glódís at your side.

"Well, hello, having fun there, Sweetheart?"

Glódís' lips perk up at your words.

"Always."

She takes a glance at the cup in your hand.

"Not drinking much? You can let loose a bit tonight, I'm letting you guys off the hook for tomorrow's training. Once in a lifetime opportunity L/n."

She winks at you, and you smile at her, amused.

You shake your head when she nods towards your still half full glass of vodka and soda.

"Nah, I want to be able to get up tomorrow, training or not."

She chuckles, nodding in agreement.

"Oh, to be young and dumb enough to drink like that once upon a time."

"Don't say it like that. You're only twenty-eight."

You huff playfully.

"Please, you and I both know neither of us would make it out alive if we-"

She cuts herself off, gesturing to the very rowdy girls taking another round of shots.

"Well... you're not wrong. To being old and susceptible to hangovers."

She giggles, and you hold out your glass towards hers, meeting her in the middle with a small clink and you both take a sip, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Woah there grandma. Not too hard now."

As you go to take another sip.

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you nudge her.

Turning back towards the group, you groan watching them take another round of shots.

"Oh sweet baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph. How the hell are we gettin' them home."

She pats your head with a small chuckle.

"With a lot of herding and the good old divide and conquer, cowgirl."

Then she moves off to go find Pernille and Magda on the other side of the room.

"You know, you and Glódís would be a super adorable couple."

A pair of arms wrap around your neck as a very drunk Sarah hangs onto you for stability, hear head leaning on your shoulder, and your arm moves to hold onto her so she doesn't hit the floor.

"Sarah, little miss, it's really cute that you wanna include me, but you know I don't speak German."

"One, I'm older than you, Two, sucks to be you."

A poke to the cheek following that, as she sticks out her tongue.

"Aren't you taking German classes anyway?"

"Yeah, but doesn't mean I understand the dialect of drunken soccer player yet."

She pouts at you before grumbling and resting her head back on it's spot on your shoulder.

"What I said was, you and Glódís would make a good couple."

Your cheeks immediately flame up, and your whole body tenses, wondering if you even heard the Austrian right.

"What-"

You clear your throat softly.

"What makes you say that?"

"You're already attached at the hip like no other. I've never seen her like this with anyone else. Even her old friend, Karólína."

"She's probably just missin' her then, Sar"

"If you say so."

It's just about mumbled into your shirt and you're beginning to realise that despite the pumping music, she's starting to exhaust pretty quickly with the way she's leaning further and further into you until you have to sit her down in one of the teams half occupied booths where she settles into another teammates arms.

With a small chuckle, you leave her to it, them saying they'd be heading out soon anyways and would take her home.

As you return to your spot at the table, you can't help but think back on what she said.

Despite her inebriation, what she said held weight in your mind.

And it ends with you eyeing up the woman through the small crowd over the lip of your drink.

You catch her looking back several times, each time sheet meets your eye, you think you imagine it, but her eyes crinkle a bit, and her smile gets a little brighter.

----

"You know, if you keep looking at her like that, she might catch onto you there, Glódí."

She knows she's not being subtle, but she can't help the way her eyes drift over to you.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Schülli."

"I think you do."

Glódís bites her lower lip as she watches you set the very drunk Sarah down by Sam and Linda (The Swedish one) before moving back to where you were, carefully watching over the girls on the dance floor.

It seems, with even just a few months with the team, you're already looking out for them like your own.

When you make eye contact with her for the fourth time in ten minutes, she smiles just that little bit more, which you quickly match.

Though, it seems, she doesn't expect the wink you send with it.

She raises a brow at you, ducking under the cover of her glass, hoping the purple hue of the lighting masks her slightly flushed cheeks.

"Wow, she has got you already, hasn't she?"

"Shut up."

The defender quickly turns away from your direction so the striker doesn't have get given any more fuel and gives her an annoyed but small shove to the shoulder, a slight frown marring her features.

"I think you should go for it, Glódí, she clearly has something for you."

"And what if she says no? Then what? Another friendship here ruined?"

Lea pauses for a minute, watching her, as her head ducks and her cheeks flare up at the admission.

"You mean... Ka"

Glódís swiftly nods, shushing the forward.

"Is that why she hasn't-"

She nods again.

The tips of her ears burn in shame under the taller German's gaze.

She hadn't meant to bring it up, but it just slipped out.

Karólína hadn't exactly reacted badly as such, but things between them haven't been the same since then, and with her being on loan now, they really spoken, if at all.

It still hurt, the look in her eyes as she tried her best to let her best friend down gently. Even then, months later, after the international break together, it still hurt.

After that, she'd sworn off dating teammates.

Hence, she hesitates to even think about pursuing anything with you.

She can't help the pang of hope she gets when you smile so brightly at her, though.

The sweet, charming, smooth tone you hold with her.

The way you hold her just a little bit longer and tighter than you do with the others.

But that's what she thought with Karólína, too.

And she was oh so wrong there.

So what's stopping her from being wrong now, right?

"That's why it can't happen, Lea. I'm not going through that again. I can't risk losing her or risk the team possibly being affected by it."

Lea smiles sympathetically at her captain, hand resting on her shoulder with a small squeeze.

It's silent between them for a few moments before the blonde speaks up again.

"Then don't worry about it. Now come on, I think it's time we get this rowdy lot home, it's nearing midnight."

Glódís sighs in appreciation and nods, looking over to the singing and dancing group of players followed by her gaze ultimately drifting over to you once more, returning the familiar warm smile she receives.

----

"Alright, come on, time for you to go to bed, little miss."

There's a small giggle from the drunkenly slurring blonde as you walk her up to her front door, your hands rifling her pockets for her keys.

"You're so cute."

Giulia pokes your cheek with one finger, and you roll your eyes, ignoring the flush creeping up your neck when you hear Glódís' muffled laughter behind you.

You'd turn to give her a glare but you're a bit preoccupied.

"And you are very inebriated."

Finally acquiring the keys from her back pocket, which she giggles again and wiggles her eyebrows at you for, earning herself another eyeroll as you drag her inside finally.

"You sure you got her there?"

The amused chuckle from the doorway makes you groan as she watches your stubborn self herd the blonde woman, currently letting herself lean completely on you, into her bedroom to at least encourage her to bed for the night.

"I am perfectly capable, thank you."

You're sure she doesn't believe that, but you believe it enough yourself to give up and let the now giggling woman help you as she observes on your masterpiece of drunk person wrangling.

Said drunk person now dead weight in your arms whining about not wanting to go to bed yet, to which you just plop her on the mattress finally and despite her protests, she's asleep in seconds.

Turning to Glódís triumphantly, you catch her amused smirk.

"Yeah yeah, real funny. I'd like to see you do that."

She shrugs, shaking her head.

"You're the one that insisted on bringing her in yourself, without help."

Grumbling, you make sure Giulia is fully on the bed before dropping her keys by the door and exiting and locking it on the way out.

Now, the both of you are stood in the darkness outside, with the last of the girls dropped home already, a collaborative effort thanks to Pernille, Magda, both Lindas and Jovana.

It's just you and her, now.

It's a cool winter night, nearing the end of the season but still cold enough that you're half shivering in front of the older woman.

You're both silent, your eyes drifting over her features lit up under the faint glow of the street lamp.

You swear, she gets even prettier every day.

The subtle but sharp line of her jaw, the way her hair almost glows under the moonlight, and the soft pink tint to her cheeks from the cold all have your heart beating a little quicker.

The way her eyes sparkle as they scan yours from across the porch.

The way her lips quirk up slightly under your gaze, brow raising just a bit.

"You okay?"

Her words snap you out of your assessment, and you hum softly, quickly recovering.

"Just a little tired, let's get on home then, Darlin?"

She nods and turns to head towards her car.

It doesn't surprise her when you jog ahead of her to open the driver side door for her, having done it every single time now since leaving the club.

"Such a gentlewoman."

Apparently, she hadn't grown tired of it yet, so that's a start.

It's a soft teasing tone that you poke your tongue out at her at before jumping in the passenger side.

On the drive out to your place outside of the city, her arm rests on the centre console, lined up next to yours as you hum along to the song on the radio, gazing out the window but also occasionally glancing over at her, scanning her side profile.

If she can feel your gaze on her, she doesn't really react.

It remains quiet for most of the drive, with the occasional hum or murmur along with the music.

It's not an awkward silence, but one you both need after tonight's activities.

Every so often, your pinkies brush, and every time they do, there's a small jolt of electricity that shoots up you arm from where they meet.

The moment you're in your own driveway, you bid her a soft and sweet thanks with a gentle nudge and give her a small wink and wave as she pulls way again.

She's thankful you're not there to hear her most likely audible heart beating in her chest the rest of the way home again.

----

Her heart racing at everything you do doesn't stop that night.

In fact, it gets worse.

It feels like everything you do has it beating beyond her rib cage.

It frustrates her, actually.

Every time she gets placed on something she needs full focus and attention for, she's been perfect for, but if you're there next to her?

Forget it.

Media duties?

Sitting next to you, she can feel your leg occasionally brush hers, arms brushing on the table every time you set it down from making gestures and whatnot.

Coach speeches during half time?

It's like you're doing it on purpose knowing she can't focus when you're standing behind her, hands resting on her shoulders, warmth radiating against her back with how close you are.

At one point, she's convinced you are doing it on purpose when she looks back and up at you, head tilted to make eye contact with you with a brow kinked up as you look down at her with a small smirk and a wink.

The more it goes, the less she knows how to function around you.

Individual post game interviews?

Even with you just moving around her doing various interviews with different journalists. A small brush of shoulders here, a hand gliding across her lower back as you move past her there.

At this rate, she feels like she's drowning in you and she's not even trying to move away.

Paired up interviews?

It feels like she's at her wits end with this one.

You're brought in together for a two-on-one interview for some football media page she can't remember the name of. There, seated on a couch, you're not even really doing anything. Except for the arm you have over the back of the lounge, resting just behind her head.

You aren't seated so close that you're pressed together. But you are close enough she can smell your perfume and it's making her head spin a little.

Hell, she feels like she should be used to hearing you speak by now, but it still has her feeling like she can't think properly with you around.

How she plans on surviving this, she doesn't know, but all she knows if she doesn't do something, she's going to lose her mind.

----

You know you shouldn't do it.

Really.

There's not even a guarantee she likes you back right?

Still, you can't help teasing her a little.

She doesn't confront you about it, she doesn't tell you to stop and as far as you can tell, she's not uncomfortable.

Your captain has always been verbal about how she's feeling when she's talking to people...

Mostly.

But she never leans away from you, only ever receiving a flushed face or an eye brow in response at most.

You can tell it's flustering her though.

By the way she's so quick to hide her reddened cheeks.

It's in the most adorable way that she rolls her eyes at your teasing comments when she scores a pretty good goal.

Small touches here and there, innocent touches. Nothing more than brushes and occasional times of brushing away grass from her face after particularly rough tackles.

The soft smile and drawl flowing from you asking how she's holding up makes it worth it.

Even though you may not be able to kiss her, her smile? Totally worth it.

----

Glódís feels like she's at her breaking point right about now.

When she's getting distracted during a game, a champions league game at that, that's a major problem.

You're both lined up for offence on a free kick when you're pressed in between her and an opposition player while she pressures the player in front.

It takes one brush of your hands on her waist and she's distracted long enough to miss jumping for the header on time.

Instead, you make it to the header, the ball flying into the back of the net as you take off running in celebration, having broken the deadlock in the final minute of stoppage.

Which turns into celebrations of the win the moment the whistle blows for full time and you're piled on for saving the teams chances at a spot in the quarter final over PSG.

The screams of the home crowd are drowned out as she waits impatiently for the end of her on field media duties.

Being the captain sucked sometimes, but it had to be done.

The moment she's free, she's jogging straight over to you and you're being dragged away off the field before you can even realise what's happening.

You had your own media duties, ones that you were currently shirking right now not being out there.

The moment you realise it's Glódís, the protests you had ready die in your throat, left with minor confusion the further down the obscure hallways she drags you until you're both in a secluded area and you're shoved into a broom closet with the door slammed shut behind both of you.

"What's goin-"

It takes all of a moment for her to grab you by the collar and slam you against the door leaving you a little winded and confused.

"Whatever it is you're doing, needs to stop. You're driving me crazy."

"What are you-"

"Don't play dumb with me, every time you so much as come near me, you brush past me, you so much as stand near me, I can't think and it's like you damn well know it, too."

It suddenly clears up there. You definitely didn't weren't doing it entirely on purpose.

Well, maybe.

Okay, it may have been a little on purpose, but you had no idea she was this affected.

"Look, I can stop if it's making you uncomfortable but Glódís... I... I kind of really like you and..."

----

Oh.

Well that changes things.

You actually like her?

You weren't just teasing her?

----

Before you can say much else, her hands cup your face and her lips are on yours in one movement.

Anticipating the action, your arms are around her in an instant, pulling her as close to you as possible, her body hot against yours despite the almost raging cold out on the pitch.

Her hands are firm on your face not letting you go for even a second, her lips fervent and sure as they move with yours.

It's only when you pull away for air that she finally relaxes into your hold for the first time.

Your hands are pressed into her lower back, hers now pressed into your shoulders as she looks slightly down at you, being just shorter than her by an inch.

The two of you just breathe for a moment, taking the moment in.

"You know. If you wanted to kiss me, all you had to was ask, Sweetheart."

She huffs.

"You're infuriating, you know that?"

There's a small guffaw on your face after that.

"What did I do?"

She almost believes the innocent look on your face.

The small upturn of your lips let's her know otherwise though.

"What didn't you do?"

And she kisses you again, slower and more tender this time, slowly pressing you back into the wall, slotting herself easily between your legs.

With your chest pressed to hers, you can finally feel the way her heart races, and she can finally feel yours, too.

There's always been something about you.

Guess it's just part of your charm.

----

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