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#*sighs happily* i love art
mynonah · 7 months
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"WE. ARE. MARRIED!! WEEEEEHEEEE"
"Aren't you bored of this yet?" "We just got married a few hours ago, Kurt." "What...? Not the marriage, silly, THIS." "You said I could do it." "Yeah, of course, but that was 20 minutes ago." "HE SAID YES!!" "I said yes 1,5 years ago, sweetheart. You should also shout that out to the universe so people don't think we were just that drunk last night." "HE SAID YES 1,5 YEARS AGO AND NOW WE'RE MARRIED!" "Wow, I was just kidding, but okay..." "WE JUST GOT MARRIED!!" "They know. Trust me. Everyone knows. It's literally written all over us." "WE ARE MARRIED!!" "You're crazy, you know that, right? This is insane." "But you love me." "I do, honey. That's why I married you. Now, would you come back here, please, sit down and---" "HE. MARRIED. MEEE!!!" "Oh, God... It's going to be an extraordinarily long journey." "Yep. I plan it to last forever."
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kisaraslover · 8 months
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im queer ok let me Iroh-ify an old man from distinct lens of queer disownment via Kaiba. im so genius sometimes. rambles under the cut
see, it fits the exact way described above while hes neither related to solomon, nor are they close nor is he explicitly queer (at that stage) hes just a really, REALLY good example of Hurt People Hurt People. and while yugi gang are peers and "equals" and wouldnt be able to awaken much sympathy for the ways he acts out, an older man, wiser man, sure, a man of conservative leanings and belief of superiority over youth, being awakened to the pains of lone kids, both ego shattered under his strength (ego death and respect) and learning more about him from yugi from their adventures (awakening sympathy) and finding himself the love and the sense of duty to help kids who have no one, it gets to me. him paying more attention to kids in his neighborhood to his frequent customers to kaiba bros to put aside time and money for kids in worse conditions.
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a-disoriented-child · 5 months
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im now wondering if my google translated reply accidentally cursed out the bloodline of the kind stranger who messaged me compliments on my art. hopefully not ( ಥ◡ಥ)ブ.
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ciaoteamo · 6 months
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Milk and Water (Pt. I)
pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader
summary: One of the newest residents’ very first doppelgänger comes in, trying to sway you into to letting them in. Will you..?
pt.II
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art credit (twt: loafuu_chii)
warning: 18+ content
“…what’s the story behind your um… ears(?)” You ask the doppelgänger before you. It was a clone of one of your favorite neighbors actually, her name was Maria.
A woman around your age that you became really close friends with over the few months of you working here.
“@&! !$?&” The doppelgänger let out a series of sounds.
“right, so give me one second” You press the bright red button next to the window and the steel blinds shut with a blaring alarm sound.
You call D.D.D. and they clean up their mess per usual. You once again, you were just thankful you didn’t have to work on that side of the glass.
You check your wrist watch, and happily sigh at the fact that you only had one more hour left to work.
“ mmm, someone’s eager to go home i see” A familiar voice speaks up.
“oh, Mr. Francis” You give the man a polite grin. He gave you a sly one in return. You knew it wasn’t him off the bat. Francis was usually shy towards you, making you want to tease him into blushing whenever you saw him.
Well, you suppose you could kill two birds with one stone. Flirt with the doppelgänger of your crush, and have some entertainment.
“how are you pretty girl” He asks, sliding an I.D. and sheet through the slot.
You examine the documents and identification and beam a smile up at him.
“the date on the I.D. is a little expired hun” You declare. He lets out a small chuckle and leans a little toward the glass.
“mmm, been busy with the milk business, love. must’ve slipped my mind to renew it” He replied. His eyes were low but he still held his sly grin. You leaned back in your chair, with a bored look on your face.
“you’re not like my Francis” You huff and tilt your head with a disappointed look.
His grin faltered and he stepped closer. His breathing had quickened a bit and he took off his hat. “who knows, i could be better” He suggests.
Now that his confidence had depleted a little, you were growing bored of him. You checked the time again and you had 45 minutes left.
“well i’ve gotta get you moving now. it was nice to see such a handsome face though, so thank you” You beam and reach for the button
“you don’t want to do this, trust me” He states with a warning tone. This wasn’t unusual, getting threats after realizing they’re doppelgängers, but being that this one was this aware… they must be evolving.
“and why would i trust you?” You ask out of curiosity.
“i mean look at me” He smirks, one arm leaned against the top of the window. His irises turned from their chocolate brown and into an empty pure white.
“hm” You nod and press the button.
“(Y/N)!” He roared with what you assume was his fist banging the glass.
You call D.D.D. and wait for them to clean their mess, again.
The steel blind begins to lift and you sit back in your seat, checking your watch again but noticed the new pink lighting that shone in.
You furrow your eyebrows and look up in horror as you see blood streaks on the window in thick, and dripping amounts. You jump out of your chair and put your back against the wall.
About 5 D.D.D. workers were piled up, bloody and battered in the corner of the room, and there the doppelgänger was.
Staring at you.
His eyes were low, his shirt was torn, revealing his pecs and the start of his abdomen. He was panting with his (surprisingly still) neat hair and an almost psychotic expression.
“oh no…” He starts with a laugh, still breathing heavily.
“what did you do..?” You cover your mouth with your hand.
“it’s what you did. you got me all riled up.”
He looks down for a brief moment and you swear you hear a zip. He holds his tie and the end of his tattered shirt in his mouth and looks up at you with knitted eyebrows.
His breath fogging up the window as he asks you. Looking like a poor starving puppy. “will you let me in now…? I need your help…” He slightly groaned.
“…what. the. fuck.”
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werecreature-addicted · 5 months
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Could you write something involving syntribation or bed humping? Love your writing ❤️
very much inspired by this art
"p-please f-fuck baby please," your pathetic mess of a Demon boyfriend whines. You glance up from your book at him, his eyes are shiny his forked tongue hanging out of his mouth. He's got a pillow stuffed between his legs his leaking cock poking out over the top as he grinds his hips back and forth. you sigh and snap the book shut before standing up to go to him on the bed.
"I suppose you have been such a good boy for me," you purr before kissing him lightly, feeling pure infernal magic pass through you as your lips touch, one of the advantages to having a demon lover was the pacts you could forge with them, how easy it was to bind a silly little incubus and make it so he couldn't ejaculate without your explicit permission, you'd had him cumming dry for hours now as his cock got more and more strained, filled with that hot sulfurous cum waiting to burst but he couldn't, he physically couldn't until you let him, simultaneously overstimulated and edged at the same time, it was beautiful.
"Please let me release," he whimpered softly against your mouth.
"how about we make a deal instead?" you offer and he grins lopsidedly.
"You know I love making deals with you,"
"Why don't you put that pretty mouth to good use and make me cum, then I give you permission to cum properly," you purr.
"Gladly," he agrees then he pounces on you, flipping you over and pinning you down to the be, raking his clawed hands down your body and spreading your thighs apart, his tail flicking back and forth happily as he licks up your thighs, to the apex of your legs.
He hooks his arms under your legs and grabs your hips pulling you flush to his face as he lavishes you with his tongue. He moans loudly against your skin and grinds his hips down against the bed, working himself towards another release.
You reach between your legs and grip his horns with both hands, using them like handlebars to get leverage and buck your hips against his mouth. you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure feeling his tongue lash against your sex. He whined and mumbled a protest with his mouth still full of you, even though you were unable to understand his words you knew what you wanted and opened your eyes again looking down at his face, meeting his gaze as he eats you out, looking down at his pretty yellow eyes as you cum on his face. he eagerly licks up the mess you made, whimpering in pleasure as his own orgasm rocks through him, a sticky pool of cum soaking into the sheets and staining his stomach. still, he didn't stop licking you clean until you pushed him away.
"t-thank you," he says shakily. you lean down and kiss his forehead.
"so pretty when you cum, how about you do it again for me yeah?" you purr
"Baby you're going to kill me at this rate," he protests, you just smile and he huffs "fine one more"
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cherubfae · 7 months
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how they cuddle || slashers x reader
With Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Billy and Stu, Art the Clown, Vincent, Bo, Lester, Sal Fisher, & Patrick Bateman, Thomas Sawyer
tags: AFAB reader (not specified), cuddling, affection, rz!Mikey, art is his own warning lmao, terrifier 2 spoilers, little spoon!slashers, nightmares (Sal), comfort, poly!Ghostface, I low-key rant about art in Vin's lmao
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Michael
Exhaustion isn't something he's used to feeling so heavily in his bones. He feels the heavy weight rippling across his broad shoulders and spiraling down his spine in white hot pain. He's not a tame being, but he is a bit more docile in the months before and after Halloween. His knife doesn't thirst for blood quite as much as on the 31st.
Seeing you in your bed is a welcomed sight. Michael doesn't say much more than the soft grunt of acknowledgement as he sheds his coveralls from his dirt-caked skin. He has a lovely warm bath that loosens all the tight muscles of his lower back. You'll have his head later for leaving a ring of grime in the tub; Mikey doesn't care about that right now.
The fresh sheets are so comfortable, accepting them fully as Michael tucks his face into your side. His recently cut hair is still long enough to form a fringe curtain over his grey eyes.
Jason
Softly leans his chin to your shoulder. Depending on how far along you two are into your relationship, Jason might feel comfortable enough to have his mask removed. He's aware the material probably doesn't feel too pleasant being pressed to the side of your face or lightly digging into your skin.
His arms wind around your waist, happily sighing as he leans himself against you. Jason also doesn't mind if you switch things up and hold him in return, stroking the top of his head softly.
Brahms
If there's a way where he can wind his body around yours, Brahms will find it. He definitely likes keeping you away from all of the noise of the world, and while he's not mega happy about it, he knows you need trips into town sometimes. He likes seeing what kind of food items you bring back because the meals you make are simply delicious!
After dinner and bathing, Brahms snuggles beside you, clinging to you like you've been gone for ages. The chill of his porcelain biting into your skin as he happily huffs behind it. He's so glad to have you. <3
Billy and Stu
The pair are constantly together, if not with you, then they're almost always flanking each other's sides. The other is often not far from the first. Adding you into their duo to form a trio didn't change much of their dynamic. Instead of the two boys slinking around, they've got you as their third and final confidant.
Billy isn't the most touchy-feely person-- that's what he likes to claim. He doesn't really know how to ask for the things that he wants. He's different to Stu in the way that he's silent when you press your hand to the brunette's cheek, smiling as his eyelids flutter closed. Subconsciously leaning into your touch, chasing the feeling when you pull away.
Stu likes to be what he calls the mega spoon. It's him behind you, snuggled at your back, and with Billy pressed close to your chest still too proud to say that he enjoys being taken care of as the little spoon. You three make a nice, lovely three-person sandwich. Even when lying down, you're in the center with the boys wrapped around you like snakes. There is no them without you; you are their missing piece.
Art
This man is mostly, if not always, within your personal space. 'It's not yours, it's ours'. Art is rarely a being ever to break character or change out of his damned costume, and his hygiene is quite questionable sometimes; though he does in fact bathe and wash his suit. Just not often.
He's a man of very few words, especially when he's deep into his clown character and doing what he does best. Being immortal has its advantages, but his fight with Sienna really put him through the ringer. Art was decapitated! What a riot.
With his strength slowly returning to him, Art is always almost underfoot. In your bubble, seeing what you're doing. Snuggling up to you in a rare moment where his costume is off, leaning his head into your chest with an exhausted expression. It seemed that Pale Girl was allowing him some respite with you for a bit.
Vincent
He is a busy man, constantly sculpting and creating. His sketchbooks are filled to the absolute brim of beautiful works of art in all sorts of mediums: charcoal, graphite, watercolor, and ink. You're his muse, his favorite subject of which his art circulates. There's something so breathtaking about you, minute details that only an artist can see within people. An eternal, everlasting beauty.
Vincent is quick to jot down the rough outline of your sleeping form resting against Jonesy. He's smiling behind the wax mask, skilled fingers shading the crease of your eyelids then moving to sketch the curve of your Cupid's bow. When he felt it was finished enough for now, Vincent sets his book aside in favor of crawling into bed beside you.
His broad frame dwarfs yours as he curls his body around yours, his large hands slide beneath your sweater pressing across your tummy. Vincent really adores you, you know?
Bo
Not much of a cuddler, but if you get especially pouty about it Bo will roll his eyes and tug you to him. He can be a major asshole but he doesn't like seeing his baby upset.
He tucks you beneath his strong arm, his mechanic's hat resting on top of the back of the sofa. Waiting for you to settle down doesn't take long as you're soon drifting off with your head on his chest, focusing on his hand placed on your knee; gently stroking the skin there. His eyes begin to droop, feeling heavy. Cradling the back of your neck, Bo allows himself to drift off, too.
Lester
Long days certainly do get to him sometimes. Tiring him out something awful. He's prepared enough roadkill and deer for his brothers and you, enough to satiate any hunger for the time being until he finds time to run into the nearby town again.
Lester finds you lounging in his bed with Jonesy, Vincent must be working hard and the pup sought out attention where she could. He had no idea where Bo was or whatever the hell he was up to.
Collapsing onto the bed, Lester sighs deeply when you immediately comb your fingers through his messy short hair. He's out like a light soon after.
Sal Fisher
Poor guy has so much going on that sometimes he just wants to crash and sleep for one-thousand years. He doesn't sleep well on the best of days, plagued by frequent nightmares that not even the warmth and comfort of your sleeping form beside him can quell.
Another nightmare yanks Sal out of a fitful sleep. One that has him patting the sheets, searching for you. The heat of your skin against his hands sends a calming peace over him. He's scooping your sleeping form in his arms, his face hidden in your neck. Sal gives a weak smile as you snuggle into him. He focuses on your even breathing, allowing himself to fall asleep soon after.
Thomas
It's incredibly hot on the best of days in Duller County, the Sawyer family set up several oscillating fans that constantly work overtime without a proper functioning air conditioning unit.
Even the lackluster cool breeze and the sweltering Texan heat aren't enough to have Tommy pulling you into his lap and nuzzling his masked face into your hair.
You're much smaller than him. It gives Tommy a sense of pride knowing that he's your big, strong protector. :)
Patrick
He is such an enigma, a contradiction. Patrick isn't much of a cuddler or snuggler but he wants to play the role of being a dutiful partner. He is quick to become a jealous lover if you were to find someone else to give you attention while he's fretting over what sort of shade of cream or white Paul Allen's next business card will have.
A prideful, vain being such as himself would never admit how much he truly does enjoy having your curl up next to him. The warmth your body exudes is a comfort, one he finds him seeking out more and more even though your relationship is still within its earlier stages. Patrick hates that he finds himself being so undone by you, but he can't find it within himself to stop either. There's something inside of you that his fervent bloodlust can't be satisfied by.
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|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
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yandere-romanticaa · 14 days
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𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭.
🎀 Traveling from nation to nation and learning the art of creating the most delicious chocolate has been a passion of yours for ages. However, upon stepping foot into the Nation of Flame, you never could have prepared yourself for the incoming wave of sweetness and obsession which was going to hit you like never before.
A/N: This story is loosely inspired by Joanne Harris' book of the same title, Chocolat. It's a book that I am very fond of and I was inspired to write this once I saw that we were able to make chocolate in Natlan, probably the best thing in the game. I am a massive chocolate enjoyer, so... Also, the fic has some minor nsfw implications, just a bit of a heads up! Apologies if Kinich is not in character, oopsie.
yandere! kinich x fem! reader.
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Proud warriors, the scorching hot sun and eternal flames were the first things that came to mind whenever you would think about Natlan. As a humble Mondstadter, it never occurred to you just how rich this nation was, how welcoming the people were going to be and not to mention how this place could help you develop your love for chocolate.
Stirring the pot in front of you was no easy task as the decadent scent of delightful goodness enveloped the entire humble little hut which you occupied, the entire floor littered with pots and pans filled to the brim with your creations and some personal trinkets which you had brought for yourself along for the journey.
One of Natlan's great tribes, the Scions of the Canopy, had graciously taken you under their wing and allowed you the privilege of experiencing the culture firsthand. You let out a wistful sigh as the chocolate bubbled happily before you, the dark liquid almost looking too good to be real.
You always took pride in your skills as a chocolatier, even if you hardly considered yourself the best one in the whole entire world. An endless sky of knowledge was out there waiting for you, the voices of the unknown beckoning you to come forward and seize them with your own two hands.
You were a true Mondstadter at heart. No matter where you were or how far you traversed, the wind was always there to guide you, to show you the right path. And right now, the flow of the wind said to stay in Natlan, to finally stop and smell the roses a little.
And each rose you touched had never been as sweet.
The rose, your rose, had a name and merely thinking of him sent your heart ablaze. Messy dark hair, gorgeous dew eyes and skin so perfectly rough and tender at the same time, it made you wonder how he managed to pull off something so contradictory.
That was Kinich's charm, you supposed. Cheeky little thing, he always looked out for you ever since he saw you. Despite his dry humor and straightforward attitude, there was a certain gentle quality to him which made him so irresistible, as if he was temptation personified. Never once did he leave you alone for the entirety of your trip if it could be helped, which came as a shock to his fellow tribe members.
Looking back on it, you were foolish to not see his intentions, even more so for not paying attention to the longing glimmer in his eye and how he would trail after you like a shadow.
He was shy, at first. Unsure on how he should express his feelings, Kinich merely resorted to doing things for you, because he was simply that kind of man. Actions speak louder than words and there was no word in the dictionary which could describe the way in which his chest would tighten in pain whenever he would make eye contact with you, as if large and thorny vines had sprouted from the ground up and taken root in his soul.
You are sweeter than any chocolate you could possibly make, he whispered into your ear one evening.
A shudder came over you, your cheeks hot at the memory of that night... The moon was high and full, overtaking the pitch black sky as Kinich had pinned you to the ground, his gaze boring deeply in your own, those large eyes focused on you and only you...
Chewing your bottom lip, you stirred the pot harshly as the memory replayed in your head over and over - his grip, which was tighter than any rope imaginable, the feeling of melted chocolate which was caked over your lips and fingers, the sensation of Kinich's tongue as he licked away the sweet goodness off your body...
By the seven, this was too much.
With a huff, you turned off the fire which was lit beneath the pot, your hands shaking with excitement as you felt your entire body growing hotter and hotter, making it harder to concentrate.
Damn that Kinich. Damn him for making you feel so wonderful, so wanted, so perfect. The thought of having to leave this place, it... It bordered on anguish. Sometimes, when you were sure no one was around, you would find a dark little corner and weep quietly to yourself. It was hard to manage the massive hiccups and keep the snot away from staining your clothes at first but you managed. Like always, you would find a way to get everything back in order and all would be well once you got everything out of your system.
You had fallen for Natlan. You had fallen even more so than Kinich. Even so, the wind was picking up once more, demanding that you make your next move.
There was so little time left to enjoy everything you had built here. Therefore, your plan was to make the most of everything you possibly could.
And Kinich was more than ready to assist with that.
He hid high up in a tree as he observed you, his face schooled into that of one of his classical nonchalance and stoicism. The chance of him being spotted by anyone up here was slim but even so, he liked to play it safe.
No one needed to know the pain he was in. No one needed to be aware of his more... dubious thoughts and actions. Kinich always fancied himself as a man of action rather than flowery words. And so, he acted.
Quietly, stealthily... Perhaps even a little lethally at times.
Violence was hardly ever the answer but if anyone got in his way and refused to back down, it was his only solution then.
Kinich had a solid reputation in his tribe - he was trustworthy, he was strong. This granted him access to many things, many useful and convenient things. All he had to do was say the word and most people would keep their mouths shut if they saw him somewhere he should not be. And if his poorly veiled threats were not enough, he was more than ready to take up his weapon and fight.
It really was that easy for him.
Sneaking into your newly built home was its own beast though.
This is wrong, he would chant inside his mind over and over again. The intensity of his actions and his nonchalant persona were always at a clash with one another, constantly fighting a never ending war. He should trust you, he knows you are capable, he has no right to be doing any of this even yet... And yet, he does it anyway.
Because he knows that if he doesn't do something, he will never see you again. Kinich knows that he will lose you to the wind if he lets you slip through his fingers, he will never get to experience what it means to be touched, to be loved.
He wants to adore you in the same way people adore your delectable creations. The various statues made from chocolates, the little cacao bites, the endless sea of pralines which would be devoured so fast by the masses that he could not keep up...
Whenever he had the luxury, he liked to imagine you as one of those pralines. Perfect and oh so easy to devour, you were nothing short of excellent in his eyes. Kinich was no blind fool, he was well aware that you had your flaws as well but he cared very little about that.
He wanted the entire package. He wanted you, wrapped up in a little bow and delivered on his doorstep like the world's most precious package, a package which he could unwrap and enjoy time and time over.
Even in his hazy state of mind, he could still recall how you tasted. Licking his lips, Kinich made sure to double check that he had taken a few things from your hut which could prevent you from finishing your latest project. Yes, that was petty of him.
But he could not be bothered to care.
The wind was cruel. Whenever a gust of it would blow at him, Kinich would scowl as he knew that it meant that you would take it as a sign to leave. His hair would get tousled as he would wrap his arms around his body, the constant yapping of Ajaw did him no good either.
The clock was ticking. There was only so much he could do to keep you here. A plan needed to be formed, fast.
For now, he was going to enjoy you in every way he could. He was going to be greedy and devour you wholly whenever the opportunity arose. As Kinich balanced himself up on the massive tree branch, yet another fresh gust of wind made its way towards him. He saw the way you popped your shoulders, that all too familiar smile on your face.
You loved the wind and the wind loved you. You loved to make chocolate and were quite excellent at it too.
Despite all that, Kinich loved you more. He adored you more than the sun adored the world, he wanted you more than unlike anything else before. He cursed the Anemo Archon underneath his breath, his poor lip bloody and bruised from the amount of times he had bitten it in order to keep himself quiet.
Kinch was a man of countless deeds. And he would find a way to keep you by his side, no matter the cost. Be it Celestia or the Abyss, there was no force in this world which could destroy the endless and raging fire he felt for you.
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wosofutbolfan · 2 months
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When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful)
Alexia Putellas x Reader
A story of a lifetime spent growing together. To what end?
Songfic
WC: 17k. Check TW inside.
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TW: Bullying based on disability. Death of a parent. Angst. Grief.
Hi Guys.
This has sat in my drafts for months and inside my head for even longer. There is no part 2 planned. This is angsty with fluffy moments. Be warned.
I think we can all agree the most heart wrenching media moment of all time is Toy Story 2 and the below song.
If you don't agree. Move along this is not for you.
Reader calls Alexia, Alex throughout this fic. That's based on this video. Cause I have never heard someone refer to that and I thought it was cute. Alexia refers to R as 'Conejito' as a literal translation of bunny - I have since realised there's a more vulgar translation of this which I'm ignoring. Ha.
Spoiler Alert - This story deals with the death of a parent. Which I went back and forth on writing. Something about it still feels ick to me because these are real people. I may delete. Everything within is based on my own experience of parental loss. And it comes from no place of malace or weirdness.
This also deals with a severe speech impediment - which again, I do not suffer from myself but have experience with and hope I have done the struggle justice for anyone who may suffer.
My spanish is google translate because I am an ignorant English speaker. Apologies.
When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart
It was raining on the day that you met her.
That was strange. For Barcelona. The rain.
You found yourself where you usually could be found, to anyone who would take notice. Which wasn’t anyone to your knowledge except for a few observant teachers. In the art room, in the back corner, working relentlessly at an easel that your favourite teacher would set up for you.
You had transferred into the school part way through term, and for the first few days as with most schools you were the new and shiny thing. At 12 a lot of the kids in school had known each other since birth and you were new fresh blood to entertain them.
That didn’t last too long though when they realised you weren’t actually that interesting.
Shy and quiet as you always had been, you kept yourself to yourself. Its not that you didn’t want to make friends. You did. You so desperately did. But you just didn’t know how.
You had a stutter. That never helped. Kids could be cruel. And with the move from your hometown to Mollet for your mum's job it had only gotten worse. 
Words felt like lead in your mouth, your jaw felt tight and you struggled to get your words out. They stuck in your throat and refused to move from there. 
The teachers were kind. Your peers were not. Your speech therapist was helping. You spent more time than any 12 year old should thinking about sentence structure and breathing techniques.
You knew your parents worried about you. Waiting for you to get home from school every day with worried glances and eager smiles; “Did you make any friends today niña?” your dad would ask, pretending to be casual, flicking through some book or another. “Not today Papi.” You would reply, never wanting to lie to your family, before happily jumping the couch next to him and starting to scribble in your notebook.
“Maybe tomorrow niña. There is always tomorrow”.
Well. Turns out dads are clever.
Because there was always tomorrow. And on an unusually rainy day for Mollet tomorrow came.
“Putellas!! Get back here! Pute-...”
The door to the art room quickly opened and slammed closed. The noise jolts you out of your peaceful reverie. A tall brunette girl smashed her back against the door and a hand quickly flicked out to turn the lights off to the room.
She clearly hadn’t noticed you huddled in the corner as she slid down the door onto her butt. Closing her eyes she let out a deep sigh and rested her forehead on her knees.
You didn't know what to do.
You knew who she was. Of course you did. She was Alexia Putellas.
The Alexia Putellas. Futbol superstar. Well… the 12 year old playground version of that. The coolest girl in school. She oozes confidence. Was always surrounded by a gaggle of your peers. Never without a ball at her feet or in her hands. But she hadn’t noticed you. Arm still raised working on the canvas in front of you, vision now impeded by the dark she had forced onto the room by turning the light off. You froze. Mouth slightly agape and hand starting to sweat. You watched as she rocked her forehead side to side on her knees. Your arm became tired in its upright position and the noise of you plopping the brush back into the water jar seemed to jolt her out of her stupor. Her neck snapped up and you met her wide, hazel eyes that bore into you. “Oh! Lo siento, I didn’t… I didn’t know anyone else was in here.” She was met with silence. Your stutter affected you terribly on a good day. Nevermind your safehaven suddenly being invaded by the coolest girl in school. Who you had idolised from afar since arriving in Mollet. Her head tilted curiously as she took you in. You felt her eyes drift to the canvas behind you. “Did you paint that?” She stands to her full height, still keeping her distance from you. “Why are you painting in the dark…?” She asks curiously. Head still tilted. Faced with a direct question you couldn’t put it off any longer. You couldn’t delay the inevitable. “Y..y…you, tu…tu….switched off….” Changing the words you intended to use halfway through was a coping mechanism that your therapist had tried to get you to work out of your system. She called it masking. You called it getting by. You raise your hand and point to the lightswitch that she had flicked when she entered the room. She looks at you harder now. You feel her eyes boring into you and wait for the inevitable laughter. The pity. Maybe even the cruelty that you are used to when people hear you speak. You cast your eyes down, waiting for the blow. But you just hear a flick of a switch, and the darkness behind your eyelids lifting. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have switched it off if I had known. I was just trying to get away. I kicked a football at Senorita Lopez by accident in the gym. They won’t let me play outside in the rain. Idiotas” You lift your eyes at her gentle, lilting tone as a smile teases your lips. She's moved closer to you now. “You didn’t answer. Did you paint this?” Her hand comes out to hover over the lines of your still-wet painting. Carefully. Again, you’ve been asked a direct question. “Si.” you reply, quietly. You don’t struggle so much with single words. “By yourself?” she asked, aghast, wonder taking over her features. You nod in reply. “This is so cool! Show me!” A grin overtakes your features as you nod more enthusiastically. Glasses slipping down your nose. Pulling out a fresh canvas for your new friend. “Lo siento, I haven’t told you my name. My Papa says it's rude not to introduce myself…” she stands tall and thrusts out her hand. Very formally. Very practised. “I am Alexia Putellas Segura.” You pause for a moment, looking at her outstretched hand. You wipe your clammy hands on your jeans. And shake her hand. “A…A…” you grow frustrated with yourself, the words getting stuck in your throat. You pull your hand away but Alexia keeps her grip firm and nods at you encouragingly. “Al…Alex… Alex.” you give up. Eyes downcast. Maybe you can tell your papa you nearly made a friend today. “Alex! Cool! I’ve never had that nickname! Most people call me Ale. But it can be our thing. I know you, you are y/n I remember Senora Perez making you stand at the front of class. Show me how to paint! Please? ”  Alexia was not a good painter. She quickly got bored and distracted by the newspaper on the desk intended for a paper mache project which she screwed up together, fashioned into a football and then spent the rest of the wet lunchtime kicking around the art room aiming for various targets that she would shout out to you. 
You dutifully cheered at every successful hit of the target. That night as you climbed onto the couch next to your papa and he asked; “Did you make any friends today niña?”. You couldn’t wait to reply; “Si! Alex.” You missed the way his newspaper dropped ever so slightly, and he caught the eye of your mami who was in the kitchen. “Ah, Si? Alex should come for dinner! We would love to welcome him!” He replied, his delight even obvious to you. “No tonta… Alex is a girl!” you let out. In that hilariously moody way only 12 year olds can. You became inseparable. Alexia was your best friend. Complete and total opposites. She would spend wet lunches in the art room with you. She would drag you to the playing fields after school and on break and you would be a goalie for her. Which was really just you standing complaining about where you found yourself and you dived away from balls as she cackled out a laugh. She came round for dinner with your family most nights. You spent every weekend at the Putellas household, travelling to her football games, strapped up next to Alba in the back of the Putellas family car, scribbling away in a notebook as you drew landscapes that you passed. On the way home you would sketch and sketch, only slightly hindered by the weight of your gangly best friend as she slept on your shoulder.  Your art would sit on both family fridges. Alex’s football boots would litter both entrance ways. Your mami would pick Alba up from the junior school if Eli got stuck at work. Joint family dinners were the norm.
Your relationship evolved through the years. Easily. Blissfully. You grew together. You became taller, however still paling in height compared to your best friend. You got braces and had them removed, You wore contacts most days now instead of your thick rimmed glasses. Though you still could usually be found in the art rooms.
Alexia filled out, she became less gangly and more strong, after years dedicated to football and training. 
Your speech improved. Your stammer only comes out rarely and you know your triggers. You worked hard every week with your speech therapist but you always credited Alexia. She gave you confidence. 
No one at school would roll their eyes or laugh at you when Alexia was by your side. She didn’t rush you. She didn’t finish your sentences. Nothing was more formidable within your school walls than if Alexia had found out someone had made fun of you, or not been patient with you. She got in trouble countless times defending your honor. Even if the teachers hated punishing her for it. 
You maybe realised on some level that you were as important to Alexia as she was to you the day that caused her to miss the U15 School Championship final. 
One of the more idiotic older basketball boys had caught you in the hallway. Trying to impress his gaggle of followers he had tripped you up as you were on your way scurrying into the art rooms to finish the sign you had made for Jaume to wave at the upcoming championship final. You had fallen flat on your face, quickly moving onto your back and pressing yourself against the wall. It had been a while due to Alexia's influence but you had dealt with bullies your entire life and you knew you had to just make yourself small and wait it out. “Oh s-s-s-s-s–s-s-oooorry it w-w-w-as an a-a-a-a-accident!!” the boy taunted you, leaning over you and exaggerating your stutter. 
His spittle hitting your face and making you wince. He brought himself to his full height, which was impressive for a 16 year old and turned to his friends. “Honestly, how is she even in this school, she is so estupida!” His guffaw was matched by his followers however their faces quickly dropped as they looked behind their ringleader. “What did you just say to her?” a cold, terse voice entered the conversation. You didn’t see his face drop but you could imagine it. 
He quickly turned and looked at Alexia standing in the doorway. Sunshine behind her darkening your view. As she stepped into the halfway you took in the thunderous look on her face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her as angry. 
You barely recognised her. “I-i-i sai…” This time he wasn’t impersonating you. 
He knew he was fucked. She moved quicker than you had ever seen her move on the football pitch. The tall boys friends quickly scattered as she grabbed him by his shoulders. He may have had at least two foot of height difference on her but that quickly diminished to nothing as she kneed him squarely between the legs. He doubled over in pain as she landed blow after blow to his stomach. “Alex… stop.” you instructed, gathering yourself to your feet. 
Your voice cut through her rage and she immediately stopped her punches. He scurried off as soon as he was able to, no serious damage done apart from to his ego… and maybe his balls. She turned to face you after shouting some choice expletives to his back, face immediately morphing into one of concern, eyebrows furrowed as her hands cupped your face. “¿Estás bien?” She asked, seriously. Hands moving to check you over. 
“Si, Si, estoy bien.” you replied. “You shouldn’t have done that Alex.” you regarded her with sceptical eyes. 
Her brow furrowed further, “What should I have done then? He’s un maton, he hurt you. I taught him a lesson. I would do it again. I would. I am not sorry.” she said firmly as she moved your head beneath her chin and wrapped her strong arms around you. 
You tried to pretend that the butterflies in your stomach erupting at her protectiveness were a normal reaction to a friend. 
Right? She repeated the same platitudes the next day, but this time with Jaumes hand on her shoulder as she sat in the headmaster's office. The boy she had humiliated so happened to be the son of one of the school governors. The headmaster told the footballer and her father that if Alexia apologised to the boy then she would go unpunished, otherwise, he would be forced to stop any of her extra-curricular activities, including the interschool championship final. Which, as headmaster, he really didn't want to do when his school had their first chance of winning in over a decade. She refused. 
She was banned from playing.
The team lost. 
Badly. The guilt ate away at you as you both watched from the sidelines as the 5th goal against your team went in. 
She grasped your knee, and still watched the game. “Stop feeling guilty. I am still not sorry. There are more important things than football conejita.” 
You took a breath and placed your hand on top of hers. You turned to look at her incredulously. “I mean, very few. Football is still in the top 2. Food is 3.” she continued, deadpan. Forcing a laugh out of you. You asked her once, years after first meeting, one sleepover when you were both lying side by side on the Putellas trampoline looking up at the stars. Why was she so patient with you? When no one else was? She looked at you, dumbfounded, genuinely confused by the question. “You have a voice y/n. You deserve to be heard.” she replied. Moving into her favourite position which was pulling all of your weight completely on top of her. Your head rested over her heart. You could hear the thump thump thump against your ear. You hoped she couldn’t feel the fluttering of yours.  
It was that simple to her. “Plus you looked like a rabbit in the headlights when I barged in, you were too cute. Mi pequeña coneja”.
Your Alex. 
You transitioned from best friends into girlfriends at 16 with no fanfare. A shy kiss after a win at Alexia's latest championship sealed it. Her grin splitting her face. Yours matching when you realised your dreams could become a reality. Hands held tentatively in the backseat of Jaumes car as he smiled at the scene through his rear view mirror.  Days later, as you both stood in front of your mami and papi shyly holding hands you realised, squeezing the trembling hand in yours, that it was the first time you had seen Alex nervous. In all of your years of friendship.
Alexia still had her weirdly formal streak, the same as the day you met her, so you let her do what she felt she needed to.
“Senor y Senora y/l/n… “ she started, taking a breath. “Mi and y/f/n…”
Your parents caught your eye, dumbfounded. She never used their titles. They rarely heard her use your name. You were always conejito.
“Alexia… estimada…” your mami started, with kind eyes. You could tell she knew what was coming. You shook your head at her slightly, Alexia too caught up in her own moment to notice. Your mami let her speak.
“Mi and y/f/n…”
Your papi, however, was not as emotionally in tune as your mami, “Monito, what is going on? Why are you being muy loca? Have you got mi mija pregnant? I know you're an overachiever bu…” “Papi!” you screeched out, interrupting him. 
Alex stood mouth agape, face flushed as she looked to you for help. “Papi, Mami, Alex is tr…try…tryi… telling you that we’re together together.” you let out, raising your joined hands. Your mami let out a laugh behind her hands, your papi however stood and exclaimed, “Was that some sort of secret!? Dios Mio of course you are! We thought you had been for years!  You made me change your bedtime story from princesses to football-playing princesses on the day you met!  Why do you think your Mami makes you keep your door open when this one stays, Mija?” 
Now it's your turn to blush as your mouth drops open. As he passes Alexia he gently smacks her upside the head, ruffling her long brunette hair. “Now come on cabeza de bola, me and the guys from work are starting a 5 a side. I need your help on penalties…” You huff out a laugh as your girlfriend is dragged away, confused look stuck on her face - eyebrows adorably drawn and mouth furrowed and clinging to your hand until distance forces her to let go. 
Your mami settles her arm across your shoulders. “I’m happy for you Mija” she mutters, in her gentle tone as you fall into her embrace. “You’re going to marry that girl one day.” Even after everything that would happen and the hell you would feel, you thank God for the unseasonal rain in Barcelona that day in junior school.
And when she was sadI was there to dry her tearsAnd when she was happy, so was IWhen she loved me It wasn’t long after you made your relationship official that you had your first real test.
You knew something was wrong with your girlfriend probably before she did. You knew her like the back of your hand. Though it finally came to a head one early evening at the Putellas household.
You had both picked Alba up from school, and you had set out to making dinner in the Putellas kitchen whilst Alexia's parents were both stuck at work.
It was standard practice, occurring at least once a week. You moved through the kitchen with ease. The ease is what alerted you.
Usually, on nights like these, Alba would huff off to her room like any other pubescent teenager, head stuck in her phone and earphones firmly in place. Alexia however, would usually be found attached to your back, arms wrapped around you as you cooked, or sat at the breakfast bar, swiping chopped veggies til you hit her with a spoon to make her stop, rolling your eyes as she insisted she was a growing girl and she needed the extra.
No, this was too easy, you thought, as you moved around, you missed your big inconvenience in the kitchen and you made sure your pasta sauce was bubbling nicely and went to search for her. 
You find her in the living room, her large frame draped over the sofa, eyes mindlessly watching the TV. But you can tell she isn’t watching whatever is on. Ale isn’t a big TV-watcher. She's very rarely sitting still for long enough to concentrate. The exception being if you're in her lap, where she entertains herself by playing with your hair or tracing the lines on your palm. “Hey, amor, estás bien?” your voice brings her out of her thoughts, “Ey? Ah sí conejito, lo siento, is dinner ready?” she asks, making to stand, but being stopped by your hand on her shoulder.  “Ay, when did I become the hired help, ey?” you ask, trying to tease a smile out of your girlfriend. “Dinner will be ready soon. Tell me what's on your mind.” The thing about Alex is she’s an open book. People may think she is stern and serious but she wears her heart on her sleeve. You can always see her thoughts plainly on her face, so you know something troubling her. She knows she can’t hide it from you, so she doesn’t try. “I’ve been offered a professional contract.” She states, plainley. Your heart lifts for her. Your whole life Alexia has bled football. For many years she believed, and you did too though you would never admit it, that it wouldn't be possible to make a career from the sport. You don’t think you have ever seen Alexia as sad as when she aged out of the Barcelona FC teams. She was devastated. It was a harsh reminder that Spain wasn't the USA. The opportunities are not always available. But the thing you loved most about Alexia was her dogged determinedness. She would train in the morning, in the afternoon, between classes. You are overjoyed that all of that hard work has paid off. Something wasn’t adding up with her reaction, however. “Alex, that's amazing news!” you exclaimed, unable to hide the joy in your voice. “Why are you not more excited? Is it a bad deal?” “No, amor, it is a fair deal.” she sighs. You just look into her eyes, waiting for her to tell you what she wants to share. She takes a deep breath. “It’s Levante, I would have to move to Valencia.” Ah, you see. Your heart breaks at the sad frown painted on the usually stern face of your girlfriend. Your hand moves up to trace her eyebrow, forcing them to unfrown and moving down to cup her cheek. She leans heavily into the warmth of your hand, and damp eyes open, fixing to yours. “Oh Alex, it’s okay” you whisper. The truth is you had always known that with the career your girlfriend was destined to follow, that you would have to spend time away from each other. You already did. Alexia has often been away throughout your friendship and now your relationship for national camps. 
You had a very mature relationship for 17 year olds. Having been woven into each other's lives for so many years. You were part of each other's DNA. You knew how to manage the time without your girlfriend. You were both grade A communicators. You accepted that this would be different, and no doubt unimaginably hard for the footballer, her family was her life. But so was football. And you know you needed to encourage her to take this step. “It’s not okay!” she stated, firmly, sitting up straight on the couch. “It’s not fair! Finally I get what I have dreamed of but it comes at the expense of everything I love. Mi familia, Barcelona, you! Why can’t I have both? I don’t know what to do” “You go to Levante, Alexia.” you say, seriously, “This is a huge opportunity for you.” She looks at you incredulously and you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong. “Oh, so it is that easy for you? Si? You just let me go like it doesn’t even bother you!” You aren’t used to Alexia's stern frown being sent your way, usually it's aimed at someone in defence of you. Or at a goalkeeper.  You, however, know the brunette is feeling vulnerable, she has waves of insecurity at times, she puts so much pressure on herself it's inevitable, but you are always there to assure her of her worth, and your love. “You know that's not true, amor.” you say, tenderly, hand reaching into her brunette locks to sooth her. “I agree, it’s not fair that Barca don’t have a women's team but I have always known your talent would take you away from me, “ she opens her mouth to interject, “but I love you. And I know you love me. We are tethered. Forever. When, not if, you go to Valencia, we will make it work. You know we will amor, you can have both” “But I will miss you.” she whimpers, pathetically. “I will miss you every second. But it will get better, it’ll pass Alex.” Her head finds your neck as she settles in there. Her larger frame is quite comically draped over you. “Do you promise?” she lets out, weakly. And you don’t let a moment pass, “I promise.” and seal your promise with a kiss to the crown of her head. She moves her chin up and faces you, “Beso, por favour” she asks, who are you to refuse? You kiss softly, you don’t know how many minutes you are tasting her sweet lips pass before you are interrupted by a sulky 14 year old.  “Ewwww!”
Alba appeared, making the two of you split apart, her disgust at the scene she's found making you laugh as Alexia peels herself from you, rolling her eyes.
“I’m gonna tell Mami that you two were making out instead of feeding m…ahh!” Albas accusations getting lost as Alexia chases her around the living room, ready to fight in a way only sisters can.
A strange smelling odour fills your nose. Oh… Oh no. You rush into the kitchen to find your dinner smoking on the hob.
“Oi, Putellas diablos!” You stick your head into the living room where you find Alexia sat on her younger sister whilst she tries to battle off the huge weight she finds on herself. They both pause and look at you guiltily. “C’mon, shoes on, we’re going out to eat, on me, we’re celebrating!”
Both of them unite in cheers as they childishly jump up and run to the front door in glee, shoving each other out of the way to try to get their shoes on first as you watch, affectionately shaking your head.
It will be months later, after a summer filled with memories made with your girlfriend, days at the beach, trips to the market, lazy days at home and soft moments made in the streets of Barna, that you would find yourself alone in bed.
That was weird.
You had spent the day packing with Alexia, the sadness of moving away had started to be replaced with excitement from the tall girl. Her dreams were coming true, okay, it may not be perfect, she finally understands, but it's a step in the right direction.
She can’t believe that she's going to get paid to play football.
Paid. The evening after a long day of packing was spent having a family meal at the Putellas household. Your family is also in attendance. It was a loud and joyous affair and it helped to keep the sadness out of your girlfriend's eyes. After a long evening of sombremesa Alexia had insisted on coming back with you to your parents to your house.
She didn’t want to spend her last evening in Barcelona in her empty bedroom, instead finding solace in yours. You had both talked into the early hours, in the arms of each other, trading soft touches and exchanging breaths until sleep took you. You pretended for her sake that you couldn’t hear her rattling breaths or feel the dampness of her cheeks on your fingers.
Now, however, you were alone, and unsure at what woke you up. Until a tapping comes to your attention. You sit up in bed and hear it again. What is that? You get out of bed and go towards your window, yep, there it is again, coming from outside. You throw open the curtains and peer out into the moonlit garden.
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness but you can’t take that moment because you suddenly are hit squarely in the face by a pebble. 
“Ouch.. what the he…” you stand suddenly and bang your head on the window frame “Ow, Fuck!” “Ay Dios Mío, lo siento amor! I didn’t see you had opened the window!” Alexia's panicked voice reached your ears, why was she in the garden? What the hell was going on? “Are you okay conejito?” You take a moment to steady yourself and your mind into your new and abrupt situation. “Conejito?” “Yes, Alex, I am fine. What are you doing out there?” You’re met with silence. “Al?” The tall brunette is scuffing her foot against the pebbles of the garden that she had previously been launching at the window. “I don’t want to say. I feel stupid now.” You arch your eyebrow in her direction. You don't think that she can even see it but she knows what's aimed in her direction. “I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. And also sad. And muddled. And I will miss you so much so I was just imagining how good it will feel when you visit, or I visit. Or when I score a goal and you’re watching. Which I know you’ve seen but now it's my job.” she rambles, pausing momentarily to take a breath. 
“Anyway, I thought about how cool it would be if I came to visit and woke you up by throwing stones at your window like in a film! You’d love that! Then I just couldn’t wait to do it. So here’s me, doing it. I’m being romantic.” She throws a crooked grin up at the window and your heart literally melts. “I..I….” and you promptly burst into tears. “Oh no mi amor no! Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to throw a pebble at your face! I’m sorry!” she gestures towards you with her hands frantically. “It’s not that Alex, you’re just such an idiot. And I love you so much. I am going to miss you so much. Get up here.” needing her arms wrapped around you. She nods vigorously and makes to climb the trellis that goes to your window. “No you idiot! Use the door! You have a key!” “Oh yeah.” you hear her mutter to herself before she scurried back inside. As you’re settled back into her warm arms, her huge hands palming through your hair. “That was very romantic Alex.” you mumble and you practically hear her purr with pride at herself. “Next time though bebe, use your key, I would much rather you be here in bed with me.” “Noted.” she mumbles into your skin, wiping away the tears that you can’t stop from rolling down your cheeks. Alexia got settled into her professional team quickly and efficiently, she was one of the youngest but easily the most talented on the pitch. You would travel up with Jaume religiously at the weekends wherever you could, your time in the week spent busy with the Art College you had enrolled in. Alba sometimes tagging along when you bribed her with snacks.
As promised you were there when she scored her first professional goal, her beaming smile sent directly to you and Jaume in the stands, stood cheering for her. You witnessed her wide eyes, after the game, as you stood waiting for your celebratory hug and maybe a cheeky kiss, when she was stopped by a little hand. “Hola.” the small girl had to crane her neck to look up at your girlfriend. She was shaking with excitement. “Hola?” she replied, confused. “Can I have your autograph por favour?” she asked, sweetly. Alexia just stood there, like a sim. 
You stepped forward with your notepad and drawing pencil that you carry everywhere, you had more drawings of inside a football stadium than anyone would need. You ripped out a page and handed Ale the pencil. “Of…of course?” She scribbled down her autograph for the young girl who beamed and ran away holding it above her head to show her mami who picked her up in glee. Alexia's wide eyes stared at you. “Did you see that?” “I saw that bebe, I handed you the pencil. I also saw your goal, superstar!” You couldn’t control your grin, which was mirrored by your girlfriend. “You played so well! Alex!” You're interrupted as she drags you over the fencing and pulls you into a bear hug. Her face nuzzled into your neck, her body vibrating with excitement. “I scored for you conejito!” she says “Well, hija, I won’t be offended, I have only been to every game you’ve played for 10 years” Jaume appears above you both still in the stands, smiling teasing his lips. “And you papa!” she releases you and pulls her papa into a hug. Dragging you back in after a moment before declaring that her first goal means that she deserves pizza and ice cream courtesy of her papa. 
Through the summer and the fall We had each other, that was all Just she and I together Like it was meant to be
You finished your college course and your love for art had never died. You made the trip to Valencia wherever possible to see Alex and she came back to Barna at least once a month to see her family and you on an off weekend. You would spend those weekends living at Alexias house, soaking up every moment together as much as possible. 
She would bring her clothes home for Eli to wash as she was useless at anything practical. You would make sure that you would always snag a sweater of hers before it was washed and keep hold of it, soaking in her scent before you could swap it out again. Alexia, used to pretend she hated it, they would always be returned with paint stains around the cuffs which would harden and she said irritated her skin.  You tried to be more careful but you didn’t stop stealing them.
You saw the same amount of her family as before she moved away, your lives had been so intrinsically linked that you had become an honorary Putellas, and she was a part of your family. You hung around with Alba and you helped Eli with her shopping when her car broke down. You were family.
Weirdly enough, it was you that met Alexia's future best friend first. After college, you started to make money from your art by being a live artist at weddings.
You knew your parents were worried about what you would do with your art. Teaching was the obvious choice but with your speech issues, it was your idea of hell.
This was perfect.
It was a niche business but you got paid well and you loved it. You got to go to weddings for a job. You got to capture people's joy on the most important day of their lives.  You would sit in the corner with an easel set up, sketching and painting guests, the dance floor, the top table. And you could immediately give your paintings to the couple and their guests, the validation was enormous, you were good at what you did. Discreet and professional.
You soon get a client list for miles and the money starts to pour in.
It was at one of these weddings that you met Mapi. She caught your eye during the speeches and you started to draw her outline. She was clearly very very gay at a very straight wedding. But it wasn’t just that that caught your eye, her tattoos intrigued you. And you loved sketching them and adding hints of colour here and there.
She looked up at you and caught you sketching, as guests often would, you were able to not let it distract you, ever the professional you offered a gentle smile.
“You like football?” a heavily accented voice reached your ears as you were adding the finishing touches to the dancefloor scene that was set out before you.
“Que?” It wasn’t often that guests interacted with you, but sometimes it happened.
“Your bag, FC Barcelona? That's not usual for a pretty girl like you, to like football.”
“Ah, Si.” You reply, your eyes not moving from your painting. “It’s my girlfriends.” you reply, emphasising your relationship status, not wanting a moment of confusion.
“Ah, boo, you have ruined my fun.” She replies, “Maria Leon '' She introduces herself, hand out for you to shake, you don’t take her hand, handing your paint-y hands up. She holds her hands up in surrender. “I see, I see. FC Barcelona though. Good team. No women's team though.”
“No, but there will be, and my girlfriend will be their top scorer when it happens”  you reply confidently. “You seem so sure?” “I am.” She lets out a laugh. “I can’t argue with that, then I will be their best defender” she offers a huge smile. Mapis smile is magic and makes you smile.
You and Mapi become firm friends. She talks. And talks and talks and talks. You don’t know how she has so much to say. But she is fun and she is kind. Your stutter makes an appearance as it sometimes does but it is perfectly offset by her inability to stop yapping. You don’t feel a pressure to fill the silence because you know she will. 
Years later, at a supercup final, you will both laugh about your first conversation. About how both of your statements came true. Turns out, people paid well for authentic paintings of their favourite moments. And as a young adult you found yourself with enough money to get yourself a small apartment in Mollet. You loved it. And you loved the independence it brought you. You think that was the happiest time of your life. You would spend days on your sun drenched terracotta tiled balcony. Painting watercolour and sketching the scenes both in your mind and your view over the square that your apartment was on. You had quite the online following and would get some commissions for your art which brought you a sense of purpose and joy. The absolute best time was when Alexia had a free weekend, or a break, she would stay with you and you would live in domestic bliss. It was an unspoken agreement. No question that she would make her base for her time back at your apartment. Even when she wasn’t there you wouldn’t sleep on her side of the bed. More of her clothes made their way into your closet. More of her sweaters would get paint marks on them. You would cook together, sing together, dance together in your small kitchenette. Feeling happy and in love as only young people can. Nothing gets between you. Training had been kind to your girlfriend, and you struggled to keep your eyes off her as she would do basic tasks. She was thick. For want of a better word. Her gangly limbs had become pure muscle, her back would ripple when putting on a t-shirt, you would find yourself staring at her forearms as she would cut vegetables. She knew what she did to you and she loved it. Often sending a wink your was and sending you into more of a stuttering mess then usual, heat climbing to your face. You felt your heart grow as you would go shopping for groceries together. Take strolls in the square, you sitting on a bench and sketching as she inevitably got herself involved in a football game with the local kids. Her favourite time of day would be Friday nights. Often, if she was lucky, she would be scheduled an early kick off on fridays. You would travel back from the game together with her papi. You took the backseat as you knew you would monopolise her time back all weekend. Giving her a chance to catch up with her family. You would get home, she would shower whilst you made a light dinner, both taking it in on the balcony before moving inside and settling on the couch. She would put on some illegally screened recordings of the game she had played in. But she would mute it as she pulled you into her chest. You would have a sketchbook in hand and continue working on your art, or a piece from a wedding that needed finishing up. You always told her the commentary wouldn’t distract you. But she insisted. Once finally saying, “I like the sound of your pencil, it soothes me, and sometimes you trace the sketch on my leg with your free hand. It gives me goosebumps. I like it.” you never asked again. You argued, of course, like any couple did. But it never lasted long. Alex would get angry when she would find paint in the sink, and you would struggle to share your space at first. But you never went to bed in a fight. Even if you tried to be stubborn your body would fail you and you would gravitate towards her in the moments before sleep, muttering your apologies or forgiveness. In those early days of young adulthood it would be the only time in your relationship where you had more money than Alex. 
Football did not pay well. It did not pay a living wage. 
You didn’t care. 
You felt privileged every time you scanned your card for the groceries, or paid for dinner on a date. You knew she hated it though. “One day conejito, I will give you everything life can offer, I promise” she would whisper into your skin whilst she tried to make it up to you in other ways. You would always tell her you had everything you needed right there with you. It was perfect. Life was perfect. You had friends, a stable job, the love of your life. Yes, distance was hard, yes, each time she left you would cry and hold her tighter to you, but you knew it wasn’t forever, and you never felt that distance in your relationship. You grew together, like a plant, your love was carefully cultivated in experiences and shared memories.
And when she was lonely I was there to comfort her And I knew that she loved me
You had never felt sadness like it. It was all encompassing. You couldn’t get away from it. You were sad for your chosen family. You were sad for your own family. You were sad for yourself. But you were devastated for your girlfriend. You didn’t know what to do with so much sadness. You couldn’t hold it in, but you couldn’t let it out. You needed to be strong for your girlfriend. Who was walking around as a shell of the person that you knew her to be. Well, that was when she was walking, she would throw herself into her childhood bedroom and stay there silently for hours. You would be okay with it if she was sleeping, but she just stared at the wall aimlessly. Her Papa was her inspiration. The reason she got into football. She would look up to him even as she towered over him. And it was so so cruel that he had been taken away from her in such a manner. A week after Jamues passing you found yourself next to Alexia at his funeral. It was a beautiful affair, a celebration of the life of a man who loved hard and was loved hard. The morning had been difficult, you had ironed Alexia's dress and set it out for her. She took your instruction like a small child, you brushed her hair straight and pulled it out from her face. You struggled to speak. Such immense grief you felt the words became garbled in your mouth, rendering you mute. But you didn’t want any pressure on Alexia. 
You knew when your stutter made an appearance she would drop everything, concentrate on doing your exercises with you, hand automatically cupping your jaw and massaging the soft area beneath your ear because she knew that relaxed your facial muscles. So you both moved around silently. That morning. As you guided her around what needed to be done. As you packed her bag with tissues you hoped that you needed to use them. You hadn’t seen her cry since she rushed home from Valencia to the news. So no, you didn’t know what to do with your grief. You loved him too. He was the first person you had loved and lost. You had your own special relationship built from long car journeys and shared snacks. He would put your art on his fridge like you were one of his own. He was kind and he was half of the person who you loved to your core. God. If you felt like this. You don’t know how Alexia was still breathing. You had been spending all week as the Putellas household. Not leaving Alex's side. But also not leaving Alba, who would lean heavily into you of an evening, seemingly crying all of the tears that her sister couldn’t. It felt healthy though, through the tears you could share memories and make her laugh. You would go to bed with Alex and the silence would continue. When you were sure she was asleep you would sneak out of bed and grab your sketch pad, settle into the corner of the room and just let it out. Her dad told you once at a game how his father worked as a coal miner. He said it proudly, he adored hard work. That's where Alexia got her devotion from. It was a passing moment, a memory that you didn't even know you had. But it stuck with you as you went into the Putellas garden and took a lump of coal from the barbeque and settled yourself into the dewey grass. Hand not stopping over your sketchpad and tears rolling down your cheeks.
The night after the funeral you stayed at your own parents house. You couldn’t handle the loneliness of your own apartment. You didn’t want to intrude at the Putellas residence, and you hoped that maybe some time with her family would be what Alexia needed to open up. You were right, but not in the way you imagined. A soft clink, clink, clink, woke you up, This time you were not frightened. You had heard this noise before. You immediately jumped out of bed and ran to your window, showing it open and shoving your head out. “Alex! What are you doing here, why didn’t you use your key?” The brunette looked up at you with sad eyes, you saw she was in her pyjamas, eyes sideways showing no car, she had walked here. “I forgot it.” she let out, morosely. “Oh mi amor, no p..p..problem, hold on I will come down and let you in.” before you had a chance to bring your body back into the house you heard her again, “You left me.” your heart cracked into two. You didn’t reply but instead hurried downstairs into the moonlit garden. She stood there, with all her muscle and height, looking everything like a toddler who was lost in a supermarket. You took her hand in yours and used your other to cup her cheek. “Oh, mi amor I didn’t leave you, I thought you wanted some space.” Maybe you expected her to agree, maybe you expected her to disagree and shout at you for getting it so wrong. You didnt realise that you were to her, like an umbrella in the rain, protecting her from the downpour. With you gone she drowned in the grief. You didn’t expect her lip to tremble and her to burst into tears. “I want my papa.”  Those 4 words broke your heart as you huddled her into your arms, rocking lightly to bring her confort. There was nothing you could say, you just brought her into your bed and held her as she cried, painting her skin with whispers of your love “I know, bebe, I know, I promise it’ll pass, I promise, and I will be here. The pain will go. It will pass Alex and I will be here.” It became a mantra that you whispered into her skin.
As she calmed down you took a moment to think. As you got out of bed and she groaned in annoyance you hushed her with your lips to her skin. “Un momento, mi amor, I have something for you.”
You presented it nervously, unsure of the reaction you would get.
It was a framed picture that you had created. Not like your usual artwork as it was made from coal. Coal from the Putellas barbecue to be exact. It was a sketch of a man in the stands of a football stadium, somehow, eyes beaming with pride, laugh lines visible on his face. A footballer with a long ponytail and similar features jumping into his arms.
It was a scene you had witnessed hundreds of times throughout the years. You didn’t need to see it again to create it. The coal added a haunting and beautiful dimension to it. When you explained your reasoning Alexia looked deeply into your eyes. Holding onto the frame with white knuckles like her life depended on it.
“I love you.” 
And when Alexia scored and helped her team to win the U19 Championship for her country not 3 weeks later. Celebrating with eyes to the sky, fingers pointed. You knew that, eventually, she would be okay. 
So the years went by I stayed the same But she began to drift away I was left alone Still, I waited for the day When she'd say, "I will always love you"
It was as though it had been destined for years but finally finally the news came that Barcelona FC would have a women's team. Mapi had texted you with glee when the news broke out, she knew that she was stuck in her own contract but the fact it existed made it a possibility for her dreams to come true. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, was a free agent. You thought, privately, that even if she wasn't a free agent that she would break every law on planet earth to play for her childhood club. She was offered a contract and signed without any hesitation. A mist in her eyes at the missing presence in her signing photos. You drove with Alba to collect her and all her things from a year in Valencia directly to your apartment. As you unpacked her stuff, Alba on a food run with money you had shoved into her hand, your small flat suddenly felt full. “Alex,” You called, from the living room, you heard her shuffle around and pop her head into the bedroom where you stood, surrounded by boxes. “Si, conejito?” she asked, breathlessly. You took in her smile, that you had missed over the months, the light in her eyes, the ease of her movements. “I am just asking, I don’t actually remember asking you to move in?” You say, teasingly, gesturing to her boxes surrounding you. It was true, you hadn’t, it had just been assumed by both of you, as well as both of your families. A blush rose up her neck, “I mean… I-i-..”. You burst out laughing. “I am just teasing you”. A glint in her eyes took over and you had half a second to brace yourself before you were tackled by an almost 6ft wall of muscle. You landed gently on the bed with a thump. “Well, light of my life. I think it’s too late for that. Maybe I can make up for my rudeness.” Her voice takes on a sultry tone, attacking your neck with kisses, making you groan. “No, No, No, No, stop it you two! Why is this my life!” Well. Alba was back, You groaned as Alexias full body weight fell onto you as she heard her sister. You had a feeling you both had plenty of time to make up for it. Living with Alexia full time was natural. You had obviously had practice from the year she spent in Valencia but you didn’t realise how easy it would be. You knew where to step to not fall over her boots in the hallway without looking. 
You amended your grocery show to include all her weird protein-packed foods. She would help you get ready for work in your evening gowns that you had to wear to fit in at the weddings, and she would stay up to make sure you got home safe and listened as you babbled on about your favourite parts, all the while taking it in for ideas for your own wedding. You continued to make money at weddings, Alexia rose through the ranks at the new Barcelona Femini team. Quickly establishing herself as a calm and serious captain. 
She took her role seriously,  she would study games religiously at home as you would paint or sketch. Your easel set up in the living room or on the balcony. She would rub your shoulders as you painted, eyes set on the TV at the game. The shared time doing your own activities matched you both perfectly. And just like that, years passed. Years in domestic bliss. Spent together and with your families. Vacations in Ibiza and even a pet cat called Pablo Petcatso, or Pabs for short, entered your little family unit. He was a ginger cat who loved a cuddle and loved getting into Alexia's kit bag, he even made it to the training once or twice, and you had to drive over there to pick him back up. Dragging him away from 22 cooing footballers. 
Women's football grew, as did Alexia's paycheck. And with that, you think, looking back, as did the cracks in your relationship.
“We're here!” Alexias excited voice explained, you had pulled up outside a tall apartment building in the centre of Barcelona. She hadn’t shared with you where you were going. Insisting it needed to be a surprise.
“And where is here?” you looked up at the towering glass building above you, you didn’t come into the city much, you preferred the quiet of your suburb.
“You’ll see, you’ll see!” Her excitement was catching, and you found yourself giddy as the elevator took you further into the skies of the city.
“Ta-da!” She presents a huge open plan space before you, the glass fronted living room has views over the city to the sea. You could count at least 3 bedrooms from where you stood in the hallway. The kitchen was sleek, straight lines and clean granite. 
“What is this place?” you ask, confused, taking in your surroundings. “It's our new apartment!” What? “What?” you breathe out. “Don’t you love it?!” Alexia remains giddy, her excitement not fading and she fails to notice your unenthused reaction. Your mind whirred. “Come look, come look!” she grabbed your hand, and pulled you further into the apartment. Proudly presenting each room to you. “And this room. I thought you could have it as your art studio!” “Art studio?” you whisper. “Yeah! Isn’t it so cool, and so much space. Now I wont get cross at you for getting paint all over the kitchen! Pabs will have so much room to explore!” She turns around and pulls you into her embrace, you are still shellshocked at everything presented to you. “I promised you, didn’t I? I would give you the world conejito.” Her eyes are so bright with joy, the smile so wide on her face, you couldn’t help but smile. Yes, the sleek lines, the large space, and the modern kitchen were beautiful. You didn’t see it for yourself, you preferred your terracotta tiled balcony and your plants overtaking your kitchenette. You loved painting in your living room when Alexia would watch a match. Pabs crawling over your shoulders, your little bubble with your family. But you could see how proud Alex was of herself, of what she had achieved. You must have taken a moment too long, as her eyebrows furrow. “You don’t like it.” you said, plainly, “No… No Alex, I do! I was just so surprised. I love it, and I love you.” “Yeah?” her eyes brighten again. You kiss her lips softly, “Yeah.” “Good! And think conejito, maybe one day there would be room for a bigger family?” she asks, shyly. Your heart melted as you nodded frantically and threw yourself into her embrace. As Alexia's career grew, so did the pressure on her. She was often away, it was something your whole relationship had survived, but now, being away with both club and country, as well as in an apartment that had never truly felt like home. You felt lonely. You would come home from weddings with only Pabs to greet you, you would create art in your studio without the background noise of Alexia watching a game, or preparing a smoothie. She would do that in the living area. Nights together were rarer. Your love never dimmed. Alexia showed you in her every movement that she adored you. Date nights, whilst few and far between, were the highlight of your week. Though that soon became the highlight of your month. The one saving grace during this time was that Mapi had finally joined Barcelona Femini and you took it on yourself to be her personal Barcelona guide. As Alexia's fame grew, you shied more into the background. You weren't an extrovert. You would never hide your relationship and you never asked Alexia to but the only social media that you had was that to promote your artwork. Meanwhile, Alexia's followers grew and grew. A few crazed fans had deep dived into her archives and knew of you but that was only a portion of the fanbase. She hated the delving into her private life, and that caused her to stop posting anything of you onto her public accounts. Any trace of you, gone. Before being a footballer, in Alex’ mind, she was your protector, that hadn’t changed from 15 years ago. With 2021 came great change. All of the years of dreams and hard work had paid off and Barca had reached the champions league final. You travelled to Gothenburg with Eli and Alba, a nervousness in your stomach more than usual. For both your girlfriend and your best friend. You celebrated the win with a euphoria you had rarely felt. Everything felt worth it. The lonely nights, the travel around the country, the sacrifices you had to make as the partner of La Reina.
And as she pulled you into her arms after the final whistle, and pulled you over the barricade the same way she did when she scored her first professional goal your heart couldn’t swell more with pride. You don’t want to say that Alexia changed after the Ballon D’or. Because she didn’t. Well, maybe she did, she suddenly sported bright blonde locks which, you admit was sexy, but you missed the softness her natural hair gave her face. By the second Ballon D’or you thought maybe it was you that changed. Maybe it was you that put up a barrier. One that couldn’t be identified easily. But with study it could be noticed. The problem was that Alex wasn’t there to notice. Yeah, you were together, you did things together, you made love and you made memories. You went back to Mollet regularly and ate with your families and you went to games with Alba.  But Alexia was busy. She had brand deals, she had interviews, she had achieved her dream of being the best footballer in the world. You knew she was since you were 12. But now the world knew too. And the world wanted her attention. 
Oftentimes she was exhausted when she got home. She didn’t want to cuddle on the couch. She didn't want to walk around the plaza. She didn’t want to hear about your day. She would ask, but you could tell her mind was elsewhere, in some contract somewhere, so you started to lie. To give answers which would satisfy her without arousing suspicion. Always trying to put her ease first. 
You would decline for nights out with her teammates, you even lied once or twice and said you had a wedding to paint, just to avoid suspicion. Alexia would take your answer as the truth, and kiss your cheek lightly as she left the apartment which quickly felt like it had become your prison. Mapi could see through you. She would try to get you to talk, but she was Alexia's team mate. Alex was her captain. It didn’t feel right to discuss your relationship issues with her. Not when you wouldn’t even talk to the woman in question about it. You found yourself in the familiar seats of the Johan Cryuff stadium taking in the first home game of the new season. Alba and Eli by your side. The first game was always a family affair. With the Putellas cousins in attendance, a restaurant booked for this evening for you all. It was an easy win for the Champions of Europe. And as you stood with Mapi and her new girlfriend Ingrid at the end of the match chatting, Patri bounded over, sweat on her brow and joy in her eyes. “Hola Senora La Reina” she teased you, kissing your cheek, you had been around the team so much that they all knew you well. “Ay, Idiota, hands off” and large, familiar hands wrapped around your middle, a kiss planted to your other cheek as you melted into her embrace. “Congrats bebe” you muttered, craning you neck you see her looking down at you with a smile. “Senora Reina, you’ll come out for drinks with us to celebrate the win, won’t you?” Parti asked, full of joy. 
The attention of the 4 footballers on you suddenly unsettled you. Maybe it was the busy environment. Maybe it was being with Ingrid who you’d only met a few times. Maybe it was Alexias hands around you for the first time in what felt like months. But you struggled to get your words out. “Ah, gra…grac…gracias  for the invite diablo, but m…m…me…” “She’s coming out with mi familia Patri, it’s tradition! You know that! Vamos, I will come out quickly for a drink then join you all, conejito” Alexia interrupted you, planted a final kiss on your cheek and headed to the changing rooms. She didn’t feel you freeze in her embrace. She didn’t see Patri and Mapis expressions change. She didn’t see Ingrid's look of confusion. You felt sick. You felt like you were about to burst into tears. Your throat burned and you struggled to swallow. 
You felt small. You shuffled your feet on the ground and looked up to see Mapis' face had grown furious, her girlfriend's arm had come to rest over her shoulders, trying to settle her but unsure why. You went straight into damage control. Alexia has protected you your entire life. She had never interrupted you, she knew you couldn’t stand when people would finish your sentences. It was the worst thing you could do to someone with a stutter. She knew that. You don’t know why Alexia's endless patience ran out that day. But you knew you wanted to protect her from your best friend's rage. You knew it would happen one day, you just wish it had happened without any witnesses. For both of your sakes. “Mapi, it's fine.” “It is not fine!” Patri backs away from the situation with a kiss to your cheek and an apologetic look. “I don’t know what's wrong with her lately. I am going to kill her…” she moves towards the changing rooms but you pause her with a soft hand. “Maps, please don’t. It’s f…f…okay. I am okay. Ju…just go get changed and go on your night out. I will t..text you tomorrow. Please.” You look to Ingrid for help, you don’t know her well but she has the power over Mapi seemingly, and as she guides her to the changing rooms the small Spaniard seems to settle down. 
Not enough though, apparently, because as soon as she sees her captain again, a flicker of that rage comes back to her. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Mapi hisses to her captain, “Maria, stop” Ingrid tugged her by the elbow, trying to take her away. Alexia looked up from her phone with a look of indignation, yes she was Mapis friend but she was still her captain, and they were in front of the whole team. Her defensive wall immediately came up. “Discuple?” Her eyes cast across the changing room, their team mates continued to get changed and pretended they weren’t eaves dropping into the mini argument that had developed.
“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mapi spat out. “Why did you interrupt her?” Something in Alexia's stomach dropped. Her hands become clammy, her body reacting to the accusation before her mind could. “What? I didn’t. I would never.” she whispers in reply, but more to herself. “No, No I didn't.” she said more surely, somewhat desperately. 
Mapi takes in her best friend's demeanour, the usually stoic and strong captain looked devastated, maybe even petrified? Mapi knew what she had done, but could see that Alexia would punish herself more than Mapi ever could. She stepped away, guided by Ingrid. Leaving Alexia to replay the last 10 minutes, desperately. Mapi saw the moment that realisation came to the Catalan Captain, as she bolted out of the changing room, hair damp, throwing her shirt on as she sprinted back into the stadium. Which is where she found you, moments later. You were sitting in the friends and family section, Alexias new baby cousin settled onto your knee, playing with your hands and babbling to himself. You made cooing noises and spoke softly to him and all her Tias and Tios got rounded up for your meal out. You felt her presence behind you, you could practically feel her anxiety coming off her in waves. You looked back quickly and confirmed your suspicions, her blonde hair damp and wetting her shoulders, her foot twisting against the concrete floor, hands knotted together and bottom lip drawn into her lip, chewing anxiously. “It’s fine Alex.” you said, as you turned, attention back on the baby in your lap. She must have seen this acknowledgement as her body surged towards you, she loudly collapsed into the seat next to you, the anxiety coming off her in waves. “Conej…” she started. “No Alex, I pr…pr… I swear. It’s okay. But I’m currently holding the ba…bab…ba… child.” you take a sigh. “I am holding the child and I don’t want to cry so p…please. It’s okay.” If it's possible. She looked even more devastated. Her whole face collapsed. She hated when you would revert to old techniques to speak, by changing up your words mid sentence. Alexia was your protector. It was her proudest badge. Before she was a footballer, in her mind, she was your partner. And she had let you down. She had done the worst thing she could have done. To an outsider Alexia's moment of impatience may have been a minor indiscretion at most. But to you? To Alex? It was the basis of your whole relationship. You felt safe with her. You had a voice, she said, all those years ago when you fell in love, and you deserved to be heard. And now she has brought that into question. “Can I touch you?” she asked, gently. This brought tears to your eyes and you nodded, whilst still entertaining the baby in your lap with coo’s and a false smile. She touched your knee, the heat of her hand bleeding into your skin. “You don’t need to mask in front of me y/f/n.” Alexia never used your name. “Please. Use the words you want to use. I am here to listen. Always.” You are interrupted as Alexias Tia comes to claim her baby, who you hand back with a last pat on the stomach and raspberry to the cheek. You are trying to avoid the next 5 minutes you know will happen. Alexia is somewhat rude when her Tia offers her congratulations, eyes boreing into your head. You sweep your hair back as you face her, having had a moment to think you get your words out easier. “Alex, it’s okay. It was bound to happen one day. Don’t worry about it. Please. Go out with your friends. I will go to the meal as planned. I promise. Alba will drive me home later.” “No.” Alexia says desperately, clutching your hand in hers, “Let’s just go home, amor. Please.” “Ale I made a promise to your mami. I am going to eat. I will see you later.” you press a kiss to her cheek and wander off towards her family.  As she stands, watching you interact with her sister and her mami, her teammates call her over. She feels torn. She just wants to go home with you. She just wants to wrap you up in cotton wool and keep you in her arms. Safe. But you don’t want that right now, so she turns to do as instructed. Throwing one more glance your way, missing Albas worried face as she wipes a tear from your cheek.
Lonely and forgotten Never thought she'd look my way And she smiled at me and held me Just like she used to do Like she loved me When she loved me
You came home early. You asked if Alba could drop you off as soon as you had finished your meal. She was happy to oblige, worried about your silence the entire meal. You were looking down at your phone as you entered your apartment. Assuring Mapi again that you were fine and she should enjoy her drinks. You go to flick on the light in the living area when a stream of light below the door of your studio distracts you. You push the door open cautiously and see Alexia standing there, looking at your work in progress. It was different to your usual work. A close up sketch of a hand, wrapped around a flower, tenderly, it was in the early stages, you could see the lines of the palm and the blades of grass in the field behind. It was mounted onto canvas on your easel and the splashes of colour you had started to add contrasted against the paleness of the room. She hadn’t heard you enter, too lost in the image before her, but Pabs making a run for the door as it opened brought her attention to you. As you stand there, under her gaze, you struggle to remember the last time you saw Alexia in your studio. Yeah she would bob in to let you know dinner was ready, or that she was heading out, but she didn’t come in often enough to take in your work anymore. Now it wasn’t forced on her in the living space. It seemed Alexia had the same realisation as she broke her gaze with you and gestured towards your painting, and then further, to your desk overlooking the window, where more of your work lay. “You’re amazing. I didn’t… I.” a deep breath. “I hadn’t forgotten but I think I… Got lost? Somewhere along the way?” you tilt your head curiously. You don’t know what she’s talking about. “I have been a bad partner to you.” 
“Alex…” “No. I have. And I’m not interrupting you but I won’t let you lie to protect me.” her eyes go again to your easel. “You’re amazing. You are so talented. You are filled with so much kindness. You deserve so much more than this.” her eyes fill with tears and she looks at you. “I tried. You know? I promise I did. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought this,” she gestures towards you and around you “was what you deserved. And it is. But more than that you deserve everything.” She takes a step towards you and grasps your hands with hers, her hands are cold, you note. As you take her in you see dried tear tracks down her cheeks, and… damp hair. “Alexia, did you not go out with the team?” “How do you think that I could go out with the team after what I did?” she asks, aghast. The reminder of the way the evening went washes over you. Alexia panics when she sees your eyes fill with tears. And she pulls you into her chest. “I am so, so sorry mi amor. I am so sorry” she whispers into your hair. “I have broken something sacred between us. And I will never forgive myself.” she swears to you. Though that doesnt bring you any joy. “I forgive you Alex.” she shakes her head in despair, joining you in tears. “You said it was bound to happen someday,” she starts, “Do not think like that amor. It was not. This is not your fault. In any way. It is mine. Please don’t think that, you deserve to be heard. I am so so sorry. So sorry. I will never do it again, promesa.”  All you can do is nod into her chest.
She pulls you from the room and settles you both into the sofa, keeping the light off, only the skyline of the city illuminating your living room through the large, glassed wall. 
She lets you cry into her t-shirt, soaking it more than her damp hair, and through the darkness you pull away and take in her face, she looks youthful. Gone, the professional make up, the expensive jewellery, and hair darkened by the dampness from her shower. You take in a large choked breath. “We need to talk.” you let out. Fear takes over her features and she starts to shake her head. “No, Mi Conejito please no, don’t do this.” she wails. It is a heart wrenching sound. She thinks she's going to be sick. “Woah, woah, woah” you place your hands on her cheeks and pull her panicked eyes to yours; “Mi amor I am not breaking up with you.” you state, clearly. “I am not. Now breathe with me.” Her eyes steady from their darting around the room in fear, and you place your hand on her chest, making her breathe with you. “Okay, okay… okay. Yes, please. Talk to me.” she begs, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs.  “I feel alone. I feel… sa…sad. A lot of the time. And I know… you y…you aren’t doing it on pur…purpose.” Your girlfriend looks heartbroken. Like she had just found out her entire family had died. But refuses to interrupt you as you speak. But you have needed this conversation for so long, that the words start to tumble out of you. Getting lodged in your throat. Har large hand comes up to that familiar place, and massages the soft tissue behind your jaw. Trying to help you without interrupting. “You aren’t doing it on purpose.” you repeat. She pauses for a moment and doesn't ask what you thought she would. “Why am I making you anxious?” she asks, cutting through your thoughts. You move away from her and settle your elbows to your knees. Rubbing your face as you feel a large hand settle onto your back. You hated your stutter. You hated that it ruled your life, but most of all you hated how it exposed you. You were like a child who can’t hide a blush in front of their crush. “You aren’t, Alexia.” “Alex.” she corrects, “I am Alex to you” she insists, “your Alex. It’s just me, mi amor.” she looks at you desperately. “I feel alone, you are never here, and when you are here physically, you aren’t here in your head. Your head is in the clouds, it is with your agent, with your coach, it is not with me.” you’ve started now, so you won’t be able to stop yourself “it is me and Pabs and, even though you're dumb as bricks bebe, you're a better conversationalist than him” you try to joke, a half smile on your face. Which she matches, hand not stopping her ministrations on your back. 
“I cannot remember the last time we just sat together, the last time that we cooked together. Can you Alex?” you don’t receive a reply, 
“I haven’t had your eyes, look at me, really look at me for months. You give your time so easily to those around you, your team mates, people I see you out with at events. I can’t blame you, this is what you always dreamed of. But… I miss you.” Your speech is strong now; “and I love you. That will never change. But you need to know how I am feeling. So it's fair to you. I feel as though you are bigger than the world. And I am just the girl you saved in the art room.” She is openly crying now. “Don’t say that, you are everything” she mumbled, through tears. 
She knew that she had been busy. But she didn’t realise the damage that she had done. She had been to events, you had been at her side. But. When was the last time she asked about a wedding you’d worked? God, you used to sit for hours describing the beautiful scenes, and she’d store away ideas for your own wedding.  The last gallery you had shown at? When had she last visited your mami and papi, who had been there for her her entire life? She kept you off social media for your protection, but she didn’t mean to erase you. When had she become so god damn selfish. “Amor, I think that somewhere along the way, I had forgotten, and forgotten to remind you. There are more important things than football. Well. Football is second”.
You are thrown back to a memory, a school championship 15 years ago, sat on the bleachers watching your school get destroyed. The lanky football captain sat by your side. You can’t help it but tears fill your eyes. You missed her. That girl. The one you were and the one she was. “But.. you told me once, that I could have both.” she whispered, into your neck, “and you can, Alex. Of course you can. But you have to want both. And at the moment. It feels. It feels like you don’t want me.” “No! Mi Amor, Mi Vida, Mi Conejito. You are everything. Eres mi mundo. I am nothing without you.” she takes a breath, deep and shuddering. “I will fix this. Thank you for telling me how you feel. I have a chance to fix this. Si?” she asks, desperately. You nod, “Of course Alex, and it's for both of us to fix, I should have said something sooner.” She refuses your admittance of guilt and drags you into bed. She sticks to you like a second skin. Moves with you to brush your teeth. Standing waiting whilst you use the toilet. She places a fresh glass of water on your bedside table.You want to tell her to give you a bit of space, but the fear in her eyes prevents you from doing so. As soon as you crawl into your side of the bed she has pulled you into her embrace and the warmth that fills you goes beyond the shared body heat. For the first time in a long time, you wake up in the strong arms of Alexia. She hasn’t moved in the night an inch, and you take a moment to take her in. This is what you missed. Just breathing the same air as her. Just existing in the same space. As though she can feel you looking at her she begins to stir. Taking a moment to come to her senses, her arms grip you tighter around your waist. “Hola, Mi amor” she whispers into the air. Your response is a kiss to her lips, which she steals, hungrily. As you deepen the kiss you feel her begin to pull away. “Lo siento, mi amor, we cannot get carried away. Things to do.” your heart hurts again. You roll off the taller girl and reach for your phone as a distraction. 
You thought, maybe, just maybe, for today at least. You would spend the day together. “Things to do!” she repeats, jumping out of bed with glee. “Where’s your passport”. That grabs your attention. “Que?” you ask, confusingly. “Your passport amor, Vamos!” She had long ago left the bed, and had started moving around the room, picking up various bags which had definitely not been there when you went to bed and moving them into the hallway. She was like a ball of energy, she stripped off her oversized t-shirt she had worn to bed, leaving her standing in just her boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight. Well, you think, at least all the time not spent with you was doing something good. You find yourself in a trance, practically salivating at your view.
A change of clothes being thrown at your head brings you out of your stupor. “Dressed. Go.” Alexia teases you, definitely having caught you starting. This makes you finally start to move as you shrug on the jogging bottoms and hoodie she threw at you. Happily, you note, it's one of hers that you’ve already destroyed with paint marks on the cuffs. “Why do you need my passport Alex? What's with the bags?” “We’re going on vacation!” That stops you, half in, and half out of your hoodie. Getting yourself stuck. “Vacation?” you ask, voice muffled by the fabric. You hear Alexia make her way over to you, then feel her gently pull you free from your fabric prison. “Si…” she gently tells you. A look overcomes her face which you can’t distinguish, then she kisses your nose, softly. “Vacation. Just me and you amor.”
“But what about work?” you ask, still catching up. “You don’t have anything booked for 6 days, I checked your calendar. And where we are going, you can bring all your art things if you need them. I’ve packed the basics in my carry-on already.” “Not my work. Alex, your work. You have a busy week.” at this point you seem to have lost her attention as she turns to your question dismissively. “I cancelled it.” she replies, simply. “You cancelled it.” you repeat. “Si.” “Alexia! Have you lost your mind! You have training, you have that meeting with Oakley - you have the pre-euros media to do! You have a game in 3 days”  you reel off her calendar, watching as she continues to dress and pack her toiletries. She heaves out a sigh and turns back to you.
“Conejito, I know what I had, you don’t need to tell me I have just spent all night cancelling all of them. I spoke to Jona and he’s happy for me to miss the game. The rest of it doesn’t matter.” she moves closer to you again, “So no, I have not lost my mind. But, I did almost lose you, so please. Please tell me where your passport is so we can get on the plane I booked. Mapi will be here in a moment to take Pabs for the week.”  You find yourself standing there, stunned. She seemingly had thought of everything. You look into the hall at the bags packed there ready to go. Pabs sniffed them curiously. She’s looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. There's nothing else for you to do you suppose. As you turn from her and open your bedside table,  a smile can’t be kept off your face, you turn triumphantly with your passport held high. “Voila!” you present it to her; “What are you waiting for then Alex! We've got a plane to catch!” as you scurry out of the room and you hear the front door knock. Alexias cackle behind you. Alexia was always full of surprises when she wanted to be and she remained tight lipped all the way to the airport, refusing to tell you your destination. 
You assumed it would be one of the islands somewhere, with the size of her luggage maybe somewhere farther afield, sun, sea and a pool somewhere promised. But she shocked you. When you got to the check in desk and realised you were flying to Switzerland you could have been knocked down with a feather. Your Alex, who was upset when she even had to wear a bikini top in the month of August, has booked for you to go to Switzerland? 
She ignored your curious stare and just continued to sweet talk the check in lady, upgrading you to business class. As you descended hours later, between the snow peaked mountains against a stunning orange sun you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your hands itched to claim the sketch book from Alexias carry on. Soon, after collecting your luggage and Alexia picking up a hire car that has also been pre booked (seriously did this girl sleep at all the night before?), you found yourself being driven through a mountain forest, as a lodge that seemed to cling to the mountainside came into view, isolated and beautiful. You stood on the wooden balcony, hands gripping a warm drink as you took in the view of the sun setting behind the mountains. “Look at that, Amor.” you felt, more than heard, whispered against your ear. Lips planting a kiss at your jaw as strong hands settle over your stomach. 
You fell back into her embrace. “It’s so beautiful.” you replied, eyes focused on the scene before you. “I saw this advert. Months ago.” she continued. “Just in the back of a catalogue at work. They will have the Euros near here, you know, 2025?” That made you snort with laughter. “Ah, I see Putellas, now it makes sense how you’ve been dragged from the beach, scoping out the environment are we? Anything for that competitive edge.” your teasing is clear in your voice. 
You feel a pinch on your stomach, “No, idiota,” though the laugh is clear in her voice. “I saw that advert and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It is so beautiful here.” you hum in agreement, “But what I could not get out of my head was that I wanted you to see it. I love seeing the world through your eyes.” 
She turns you in her embrace and she places a gentle kiss to your forehead as you feel her breathe you in. “You see things so beautifully, Amor, and then you paint them for the world to see. You are so special.” Your heart melts at the blonde, and you feel some of the despair that had settled into your stomach over the last months shrink. Here Alexia was, at work, flicking through some promotional material between interviews and training, and her thoughts are with you. “And I will not let you forget how special you are, ever. Never again”. You spent those days in pure bliss. You spend the days hiking - her pretending to be as tired as you at the peak of a mountain, she was a terrible actress but you appreciate the sentiment non the less - having picnics, exploring the mountain villages, and on one particularly spicy day, skinny dipping in an isolated mountain lake that a swiss teammate had told Alexia about. Evenings were spent looking up at the stars together, you firmly in alexias lap on the balcony, sharing a glass of wine which you held. She pointed out stars that her Papa had shown her and given silly names to, and you were there to catch her tears. She would complain only minimally that she was cold, and you would offer to warm her up and she would lead you gently into the bedroom. Nights spent in each other's embrace, sighs shared and no alarms to wake you. You would dance around the kitchen, play cards at the table, share wine and stories and just catch up. 
The pit in your stomach mended with each kiss, each peel of laughter and each stroke of the skin. 
One evening, after the skinny dipping adventure in which the footballer insisted that she must have hypothermia and had taken herself off over an hour ago telling you she wasn’t coming out of the warm shower until she had become a prune. You had started to add the finishing touches to a sketch of the scene beyond your lodges window when you felt the blonde return into the room, You eyed her quickly, flannel tartan pyjamas covering her tall frame, hanging over her wrists, matching shorts which are despicably short. Fuzzy socks on her feet. She looked absolutely adorable. 
You didn’t know why she was staring at you though, She moved towards you and you made space for her on the couch.  “You have your glasses on, Conejita.” she mumbled, and you reached up, as though to confirm they were on your face, “I didn’t know you still wore them.” You didn’t, too be honest, but with the long day of fresh air and a strong sun on the mountainside your eyes had grown tired. You shrugged at her, as she placed a soft kiss on your lips. Lovesick look in her eyes. “You’re so hot.” She mumbled, more to herself. You hear though, and the blush runs up your neck. 
You moved to get your work off your lap but she stopped you, pulling you back into her embrace and you automatically moved your knees up to rest your sketchbook there. “Carry on, please.” her chin rested on your shoulder. You hesitated, you didn’t come all this way to not spend time with the blonde, you wanted to soak in every minute. You wouldn’t be happy if she started to kick a ball around in the kitchen. She could sense your hesitation, “please. Remember, I like the sound of your pencil.” she moves your free hand to her bare thigh, “and it gives me goosebumps.” You fell in love again over those 6 days. You never fell out of it. But maybe you both just needed reminding. You felt whole, your communication about how you were feeling had worked, Alexia had listened. You just had one worry though, as the plane landed back in Barna you couldn’t hold it in. “Alex.” you said, before the seatbelt sign came on, gripping her arm lightly. “This was the best trip of my life. Thank you.” Her smile cracked her face, and she looked immensely proud of herself. “Mine too, Amor.” she agreed, easily, her face was peaceful . “But. I can’t go back to how things were again, si? I don’t think I could survive it, not after this week.” she's already shaking her head. “It won’t, I promise. I will not let that happen. Me and you, Si? That is all that is important” you take a moment, “And Pabs.” you amend for her, breaking the tension. “Si, of course” she rolls her eyes, “and Pablo Petcatso.” 
When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart When she loved me
“Hey, Al?” you shout, into the living room as you enter your flat. It's been a few weeks since you returned from your impromptu get away. A busy few weeks. You have been booked up and Alex had to make up for the time she had lost, Barca were still in 4 competitions so the match load was heavy. You could see she was trying though, so that made the darkness that had started to creep back in more bearable. She wasn’t home from training yet. Which disappointed you more than usual. You were giddy. 
You had just found out that your art had been selected to be shown at a huge gallery opening in the centre of the city. An established and high-end gallery. It was a big deal, and it was potentially your big break. You got flutters in your stomach even thinking about the commissions it could make you. Pabs popped his head around the door and you picked him up giddily and span him around, his meow in response you took as a congratulations as you danced and laughed. You didn’t hear the door behind you open but you heard your favourite voice in the world, “And what have I walked into here, hey, a party with my favourite two? Without me?” Alexia laughed.  “Alex, we're celebrating!” you let Pabs free from your grip as he scurried away from his crazy mama. Her arms loop around you as you move into a slow dance, grinning up at her; “Ah, Si? And what are we celebrating?” “I got chosen! For the gallery!” Your feet leave the floor as the taller girl fully brings you into her arms, lifting you and spinning you around in glee, the squeal she lets out is full of childlike joy. “Of course you did! You are amazing!” she plops you back down and attacks your face with kisses. “I’m so proud of you Mi Amor and I am so excited to see your gallery. Oh I can get all dressed up and be your arm piece!” The thought brings you pure joy, the image of Alexia standing by your side, proudly, champagne in hand. Your Mami and Papi and Eli and Alba all present. Pabs in a little bow tie. “Si?” you ask, shyly, much more used to being by her side, “You’ll come? It is in 4 weeks. The 16th. You should be just starting on break.” A shadow of sadness passes her face at your insecurity, “Amor even if I was not on break I would not miss this for the world. If I had the world cup final I would call in sick. I will be there.  I will be the girl with the biggest bouquet of flowers in all of Barna with the lovesick look on her face.” It had been a whirlwind of a month, you had to put the finishing touches on your pieces. 
You have chosen to showcase your best landscapes. 
Scenes from the road to Valencia, The Square in Mollett, Beach Scenes in Barca, Snow capped mountains of Switzerland.
It was the story of your love for Alexia. Told through scenes only the two of you could understand the significance of. 
In the week leading up to the opening, you would spend late nights at the gallery, setting up lighting with Mapi and your Papi. Eli would walk around straightening frames on the walls. As you settled into bed each night, Alexia would open her arms and bring you into her warn embrace. 
You couldn’t wait to share your love story with the world. Alexia was having a bad day. It started bad. And continued to be bad. First, she woke up alone, which she hated. 
She recalled a kiss to the forehead and a whispered ‘I'll see you later’ before she'd dozed back off.  Then she realised that she had forgotten to charge her phone and was therefore late to training. Well. Not late for normal people. But late for Alexia. Then she forgot her socks and had to steal some of Irenes. She had a bad training session and Patri beat her in all their 1v1’s. And then the icing on the cake. She was dragged out from her gym session to do media which she hated. By the time she had finished the changing rooms were mostly empty, with only Pina and Patri left, scheming together in a corner.
“Ah now, Capi! Turn that frown upside down!” Pina teased her, “Ay, come out for a drink with me and Patri, the girls are all coming later, a bonding session before the break!”
And Alexia would usually say no, she wasn’t one for massive social events. But a drink sounded good. And it was the last day of training before the break.
Which is how she found herself 4 drinks in, deep in a booth in Patris favourite bar downtown. Most of the girls had joined them and laughter and chatter filled the roped off space. Something was missing and it took Alexia a moment to realise that there wasn’t a yapping in her ear.
“Ay, Pina, where are Mapi and Ingrid?” 
“They text the group, they had something on but they’re going to join us after. Ah… here they are!” Pina turned as Patri dragged her to the dance floor. Alexia turned to where Pina had pointed and saw Ingrid and Mapi walking towards her. She smiled and raised her hand in a wave, as they got closer she took in their state of dress; “Ay, sexy mamas, it’s only a night out with the team. Why are you dressed so nice? Have you just come from your wedding?” Mapi looked at Alexia. But really, really looked at her. “What?” nothing. “Maria, what? Why are you looking at me like that? Ingrid?” she faced the usually kind woman but she wasn’t met with her usual smile, “What’s happening? Wh-ohmygod.” It hit Alexia like a freight train. Like 10 freight trains. She physically had to hold onto the chair to her side to remain standing.  “No, no, no, I didn’t, I couldn’t have done.” She starts to pat herself down and pulls her phone out, dead, still uncharged from the night before. She holds it up to Mapi, as evidence, evidence of what she doesn’t know. As though it gives her a lifeline. She knows it doesn’t. “Ingrid? Ingrid please tell me I didn’t miss it.” she asks, desperately. The tall girl looks away, as though she can’t even face what the captain had done. “Alexia.” The rage is barely contained in Mapis' voice. “I can’t even look at you.” Mapi turns to leave, but it's as though her anger wont let her; she turns again and spits out; “Do you think she needed a reminder on her phone to know when the Champions League final was? Do you think… I can’t… I have just come from her gallery opening. Her life's work. A life shared with you. And here you are. At a bar. Celebrating, what?  A game of football? A half season well done? Fuck off. Seriously. Fuck. Off” Ingrid grips her hand and tries to pull her away. All Alexia can do is stand there and take it, it's not a hundredth of what she deserves. “No Ingrid.” She pulls her hand free and pushes her finger into Alexia's chest. “You are a selfish monster. She thought you must be hurt. That's what she thought. She thought you were in a ditch somewhere. She almost cancelled the whole thing to run around hospitals to find you. But then Alba saw you on Patris instagram. And here you are. La Reina.” Mapi looks her up and down, pure disgust on her face. “Your Mamis held her as she sobbed. Alba redid her makeup. I would steer clear of her Papi for months if I were you. She is strong, and she gave a speech.” Alexia couldn’t breathe. You gave a speech? She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there.  “Please, Maria, stop. I can’t listen.” Alexia couldn’t take it. She moved Mapis' hand off her chest and ran to the door of the club. One thought in her mind. Get to you. Get to you. “It's too late Alexia.” Mapi shouts to her back. She ignores her. It can’t be. No It can't be. She jumps out of the uber onto the unfamiliar street. The lights to the gallery are off but she desperately tries the door regardless. Banging on it with her fist in frustration. She lets out a scream into the empty street. Peering through the windows she sees wall after wall of your work. Scenes she recognises from her life. Football pitches. Beaches, Mountains. The scene from your balcony in Mollet. It was all so beautiful. So carefully curated. And she wasn’t there. She takes off at a run. It’s not too late. Mapi is wrong. It’s not too late. She will die if it is too late. “Y/N!” she barged into the apartment. She must have ran 10 miles. “Y/N are you here?” She runs from room to room. But there is no one there. When that's established she plugs her phone into the charger on the breakfast bar and makes her way back through the apartment. She goes into the bedroom. No, please no. The wardrobe is open, your side is empty. She looks around. Your things are gone.
The kitchen remains largely unaffected. Though the picture of you and your parents no longer sits on the shelf. Your trainers are gone from the hall. Your favourite blanket from the couch. She looks at the walls. Anything you had painted. Gone. Alexia always insisted that your art be on the walls, in each home you shared together. “Why would I want strangers work on the walls, Mi Amor? When I have the best artist in the world here?” she would say, making you blush. She was addicted to that blush. She walks back into the hallway. One picture remains in pride of place. The picture you presented to her in her darkest moment. You would never take that away from her. It was a gift of pure adoration. All it does is make the stabbing pain in Alexia's heart worsen. She pushes open the door to your art studio. All that remains are paints and blank canvases. Except. In the middle of the room. The easel. A picture she had seen before, in its early stages. A hand. A hand holding a beautiful flower. But it had changed somehow. Pressure lines had appeared. The flower beginning to wilt under the force. It wasn’t your usual work. Alexia stood closer. Entranced. As she inspected the image she saw the light tease off still wet paint. You had touched this up recently. Her eyes search, frantically for anything of your last moments in the apartment when she catches it. Too light for anyone not searching for it. 11. Blended into skin at the wrist of the image. A tattoo. So lightly painted but it etched itself fiercely into Alexia's soul. This was her hand. This hand that was silently destructive, was hers.  She saw a post it note stuck to the leg of the easel and in your looping handwriting: ‘Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting that they won't use it.’
She brought her hand up to her mouth and let out an audible gasp. She runs into the kitchen and dry heaves over the sink. There, she watches as her tears splash into the marble. And as she watches. She takes note of a single paint droplet. Her tears joined it, creating the most heart crushing piece of work she had ever seen.
God. She used to get so angry at that paint in the sink.
It's been years, she thought, years since she found paint in the sink. How much did you have to lessen yourself in order to be with her?
She collapsed into a seated position. Back against the kitchen cabinet. And brought her knees to her chest. She sobbed. And sobbed. She was joined at one point by Pabs. She thought you’d taken him with you. But no, in a typical act of kindness you wouldn’t leave her alone in her despair.
His little bow tie still sat around his neck, skew-whiff, as he looked at his mama curiously. He licked her nose and she sobbed harder.
Weeks passed.
She doesn’t know how she got through those weeks. Thousands of missed calls. Hundreds of messages. Went unanswered.
Alexia didn’t hear from you. Her Mami and Alba had forgiven her after Alba had found her in a state and unable to look after herself but they made it clear they were on your side. Mapi wouldnt look at her. They wouldn't tell her where you were, they wouldn’t pass on any message.
She was too frightened to go to your Mami and Papa.
She hadn’t trained well for weeks, She arrived at training exhausted. Sleep would never find her. She was barely clinging on. Jona still insisted she play. She was La Reina.
And then she broke. And that's where Irene found her, after another match of lacklustre performance. In a back corridor of the stadium. Broken and staring at the wall in front of her.
A ghost of the woman she was. 
Her phone lay next to her. A message from you. A response to her apologies, her thoughts, the pain she had told you she felt for your failed relationship. 
Finally, Word you were alive. 
3 words in fact. “It’ll pass Alexia.”
545 notes · View notes
misserabella · 5 months
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Dina x insecure reader comfort sex.. if that makes sense. I mean like lots of praise/worship from Dina to reader and Dina saying how much she loves reader and her body, if you'd be comfortable writing it!!
perfect
dina woodward x fem! reader
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cw; +18 content! minors dni!!, oral sex (r receiving), use of pet names, body worshiping, lots of praising, lots of sweet kisses, making out, dina being a sweetheart, slight hair pulling (d receiving), scissoring, multiple orgasms, cum eating, praise kink, use of good girl…
she’d be so comforting and sweet, kissing the stretch marks on your skin and every little ‘imperfection’ that you don’t like about your body. her fingertips taking in every curve, every mark, every bump, everything…
you’re moaning, your hands on her dark wavy hair as her tongue laps up your folds, her soft hands caressing your thighs, her lips sucking at your clit.
she looks up at you, and her heart skips a beat. your furrowed eyebrows, your half-lidded eyes, your parted plump lips… a piece of art.
“fuck, dina…” you whimpered as she messily made out with your cunt, humming at your taste.
“taste so good. always so good for me, baby. you’re perfect. perfect pussy.” she muttered, her warm breath against your slicked up folds and throbbing clit, before going back to her administrations, making you sigh. your back arched as one of her fingers entered you, slowly pumping in and out of you, filling your room with the slick sounds of your pussy taking her. “that’s it… look at her. so ready for my fingers… just lay there for me and look pretty while i make you feel good, hm?” you nodded, your heart fluttering at her continuous praise, something that made your walls clench and pushed you closer to the edge. she pushed a second finger in, making you whine, curling them against your g spot as her tongue circled your puffy clit.
“dina… i’m gonna…” your voice cracked, moans getting higher.
“that’s it. cum for me. fill my mouth, pretty girl.” your thighs shook, your walls pulsing around her fingers as you tipped over the edge, cumming in a scream, your creamy slick making a mess out of her lips and chin. dina hummed, fucking your through it and licking every last drop up.
you pulled at her hair when it became too much, unlatching her from your pussy and hissing when she pulled her fingers out of you, sucking them clean. she stared down at you, at your heaving naked chest, flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “you look so perfect… you are perfect.” she muttered against your tummy, leaving pecks up your navel, chest and neck to your lips, kissing you so softly and full of affection it had your bones aching. you looked away from her eyes, biting down on your lip. you didn’t feel perfect. “hey, look at me. keep your eyes on me while i love you, okay? keep those beautiful eyes on me.” she said, kissing your cheek, what made you look back at her. “there’s my girl.” she smiled, and you sighed. “you’re so beautiful it hurts.” she whispered again your lips, kissing you once again, this time deeper, her tongue pushing into your mouth as she took one of your thighs to straddle your hips. “now, i’m gonna make love to you, okay baby?” you nodded, your fingers lacing with hers as her cunt met your own, making you moan. dina sighed, experimentally rolling her hips down against you, making your clits catch. “shit. you always feel so good… made for me. so fucking perfect.” you whimpered at her praise as she slowly started to fuck you, her free hand cradling your face to softly leave pecks on your lips, which you happily received, opening further your thighs for her to speed up her thrusts against your sopping cunt.
“dina…” you moaned out her name, kissing her deeper.
“i know baby, i know…” she smiled, kissing your forehead. “gonna make you feel good, angel.” she promised, thrusting faster. “i love you. i love everything about you.” she muttered millimeters away from your face, looking straight into your eyes as her free hand wandered your body, your curves. “you’re breathtaking.” you moaned as she pinched your nipple, biting down on your lip. you stuck your tongue out for her, making her smile before she stuck out her own and pushed it against yours, deeply kissing you. your free hand went to her back, pulling her closer as her thrusts became harsher, faster. “i’ll kiss you until that gets into your head. worship you until you believe me, until you see yourself the way i see you.”
a new orgasm was creeping its way to you by how good she was fucking you, pleasing you.
“dina… im close again, fuck.” you whimpered, your hips subconsciously searching hers.
“yeah? you gonna cum again for me, sweetheart?” you nodded. “not before you say it.” her thrusts slowed down, making you cry out at her edging. “say you’re beautiful and i’ll let you cum, baby.” you whined.
“dina…” but that whine ended up in a moan as she harshly fucked her pussy against yours, almost pushing you towards your orgasm.
“come on honey, tell me what i wanna hear…” you gasped, clawing at her back as she teased you with strong thrusts and then slower softer ones, edging you.
“i’m beautiful. i’m beautiful. please dina, please…” you begged in between moans, you were shaking, almost crying at the toying of your pleasure. you needed to cum so bad.
“thaaats it. good girl. such a good girl for me.” her thrusts took more strength and speed once again, giving you what you wanted. “you wanted to cum, isn’t that right baby? then come for me, let me see the pretty face you make when you cum.” and with a last thrust you were soaking her pussy. your moans could surely be heard by your neighbors, but you couldn’t care less, not when this orgasm was so harsh and felt so good…
the sight of your scrunched up in pleasure face and a couple of more thrusts were enough to give dina her well deserved orgasm, moans falling off her lips as she fucked the two of you through it until the overstimulation became too much and stopped her movements, flopping herself against you and sweetly kissing you.
“you’re beautiful. never forget that, alright?” you nodded, pecking her lips.
“i love you.” you muttered.
“i love you more, angel.”
-
a/n; this was so sweet to write. ty to the person who requested it!!❤️
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pitchsidestories · 4 months
Text
can't stop this feeling II Alessia Russo x Reader
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part 2 I masterlist I word count: 2954 I
a/n: hi, the oneshot is based off the ask to write for Alessia, we hope you guys like this one, it's on the longer side, so get cozy.
Vick Hope looked expectantly at the two players who formed The Tooney & Russo Show together. The question she read out loud only a couple of seconds ago, was weighing heavy on the Arsenal forward.
They were playing a quick-fire question round of who’s more likely for the new episode and the moderator asked them:” Who’s more likely to kiss a girl?”
“Alessia, she just did last night!”, Ella yelled enthusiastically.
“Tooney!”, Alessia gasped.
Shooting an innocent smile in her best friend’s direction the Manchester United footballer defended herself:” What? You just told me.”
“Yes, but that was just a kiss between teammates.”, the Blonde explained, her cheeks turning slightly pinks as she spoke.
“You never kissed me.”, Ella reminded her with a cheeky grin.
“Yes, because you’re my best friend. I’d never kiss-.”, Alessia licked the lips nervously.
“Your friends? Liar.”, the midfielder clicked her tongue reprovingly.
The remark of the fellow footballer made the blonde blush even harder:” Can we change the topic please? This is ridiculous. It was fun and meant nothing.”
“Sure, so who’s more likely to get into a bar fight?”, sensing the change of the mood in the room Vick Hope switched the discussion to something more light-hearted.
“Definitely Tonney.”, Alessia laughed.
“True, I can’t deny that.”, Ella responded, shrugging her shoulders in a nonchalantly manner.
Last night, when the kiss which the podcast had hinted at, happened the Arsenal team has been out in the bars, celebrating the end of the season. The temperature been up letting everyone know that summer was around the corner.
“No, drinks for, y/n.”, Lia told her teammates at the table seriously. The room was nicely lit, with modern art on the walls and a lot of plants as decorative elements.
“Wally, I’m 23 and not longer 16 anymore.”, you scowled at her.
“Still, the rules are the rules.”, the Swiss woman declared, she didn’t seem to be impressed by your throw in.
Clearing her throat, Katie offered you grinning:” You can take a sip from my drink.”
“Thanks, Katie.”, you replied happily.
“Katie!”, Kim scolded the Irish player.
“She turned 23 this month, you guys need to calm down!”, she scoffed.
“Listen, I’ll order a drink now!”, Leah announced as she banged on the table, to underline the seriousness of her decision.
“Lee, I love you. Thank you!”, you sighed gratefully.
“Excuse me? I thought you loved me more.”, Alessia interjected, her pretty lips formed to a pout.
“Did you buy me a drink?”, you rose an eyebrow at her, but couldn’t help to giggle because of her silly facial expression.
“No?“, Alessia replied truthfully.
“See?“
Your teammate shrugged: “Fine then. I still love you.“
“Love you too. But not as much as Leah.“, you replied when the blonde defender reappeared next to you with a drink in hand.
You carefully took the glass from her: “Thanks, Lee.“
“You’re welcome.“, she laughed, holding up her own glass so you could clink your glass to hers.
“Cheers.“
“Cheers.“
You both took a sip of your drink and you had to admit, Arsenals vice captain had a surprisingly good taste in alcohol.
Lia playfully hit her best friend on the arm: “Leah, you’re breaking the rules!“
“The rules aren’t for her anymore.“, she replied decisively.
You nodded enthusiastically: “Exactly!“
The Swiss midfielder shook her head in faux shock: “Unbelievable.“
You suddenly felt an arm snake around your shoulders. When you looked over, your eyes met Beths. She leaned her head on her shoulder, obviously not on her first drink anymore and said: “You’ll always be our baby, y/n. No matter how old you get.“
“Oh yes.“, Lia agreed.
You shook Beth off and grimaced at your older teammates: “Ugh, you’re horrible.“
Between some gasps and a few protests, Kim only looked at you with an unimpressed expression: “No, we know you love us.“
You were about to respond that maybe they should have their alcohol consumption supervised instead because none of them seemed sober at the moment when Alessia grabbed your wrist. Your attention immediately shifted to her.
“Want to go get some fresh air?“, she asked, her blue eyes twinkling.
“Yes, please.“, you nodded, happy to escape your teammates for a moment.
A smile appeared on your friends lips as she pulled you along: “Come on then. Maybe they have calmed down until then.“
You both stepped outside into Londons night air. It was chilly and you wrapped the arm not holding your drink around yourself. “Let’s hope so. It’s just so annoying when they’re babying me like I’m still that academy youngster who joined them seven years ago…“
You sighed quietly. You were still grateful for these women. They were welcoming and supportive when you first joined Arsenals senior squad. By now you even considered most of them your family. But they still seemed to ignore that you had changed since then.
“Maybe they still want to believe that.“, Alessia grinned, bumping her shoulder against yours.
“Possible.“
“Maybe it makes them feel less old.“, the striker suggested while taking your drink from you and having a sip.
You let out a laugh: “I guess that could be true.“
While she was busy enjoying your drink, you used the opportunity to reapply your lipgloss. As you followed the contour of your lips with the applicator, you realized that Alessias eyes were following your movements.
You frowned at her: “What?“
“That’s a pretty gloss.”, the blonde muttered under her breath.
Her visible nervousness amused you.
“I could put some gloss on your lips if you’d want to?”, you offered her, smiling innocently.
“Sure.”, Alessia nodded as she kept focussing on your lips. They are so kissable, the forward thought to herself while you applied the gloss on to her.
Stepping a bit away from her, you noted:” It looks great on you.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s true.”, you replied but before you could add anything more your teammates lips were on yours, you exchanged short and sweet kisses.
In between those Alessia stated with a huge grin on her face: “And very kissable.”
“Oh, do you think so, Russo?”, you gave her a challenging look.
“Yes.”, she declared laughing.
“Too bad you’re only for the boys you’re a pretty solid kisser.”, you sighed dramatically. Despite the joking, it did hurt you saying this out loud. You couldn’t dwell on it for too long as Alessia showered you in more kisses to stop you from talking.
“I can still kiss you anyway.”, the forward claimed confidently. The two of you have been too oblivious to your surroundings, so you didn’t see your teammates turning up behind you, who have started to worry what took you two so long.  
“Oi, Lessi kissed y/n!”, Katie yelled.
“Katie.”, Caitlin scolded her girlfriend.
“Wait, what !?”, Beth gasped, the shock has been written all over her face.
“Relax, girls, it was just a kiss.”, Alessia tried to soothe them with her response.
“It’s never just a kiss.”, Beth answered in a serious tone.
“Well for us it’s, right y/n?”, the younger forward asked you.
“Uhm, yeah sure.”, you mumbled, you could feel the rest of your team could sense that you were lying.
The Irish woman was clearly ready to reply something sharp, but Caitlin stopped her. “Don’t say anything right now, Katie.”
“I think I’ll be going home now.”, you decided quietly.  
“Already?”, Lia questioned surprised.
When she saw you nodding the Swiss woman continued: “I can bring you home.”
“Oh, you don’t need to.”, you told her.
“I was about to leave anyway.”, Lia shrugged.
“Okay, fine.”, you gave in, after you said your goodbyes to everyone, the older midfielder and you were on your way home by foot.
While you were walking Lia was absently smiling at her phone. Normally the Swiss woman wasn’t clued to her device this much, she would have pointed out the beauty of the gardens you both were passing on the way or talking about whatever crossed her mind.
“Are you texting Mariona again?”, you teased her smirking.
“Again?”, the midfielder repeated, biting her lip guiltily.
“Oh, please, you know what I’m talking about, you playfully rolled your eyes at her before adding more earnestly, I’m happy for you, Lia, you deserve it.”
“Thanks, I’m just surprised, I haven’t told anyone yet.”, Lia confessed.
You shrugged, biting back a smirk: “Yes but you know we all have eyes and access to Instagram, right?“
“It wasn’t even obvious!“, the midfielder protested, throwing her hands up in defeat.
“Doesn’t matter we all know.“
“I guess you do.“, she sighed.
You raised your eyebrow: “See?“
“Yes. But Lessi…“, Lia suddenly changed the topic.
You could feel your heart skip a beat but pretended to remain unfazed: “What about her?“
Your teammate studied your face for a moment. “What was that about?“
“I don’t know…“ There were a million thoughts in your head, a million explanations but the reality was that you had no idea why this had happened. You were thinking about blaming it on the alcohol but you knew Lia would not buy it.
Seemingly unsatisfied with your answer, the Swiss midfielder followed up with another question: “Was it just a kiss like she said?“
You knew where she was going but you decided to act dumb: “I mean… you know Lessi. She’s just very affectionate.“
Your indifference seemed to bother Lia. She stopped right on the pavement. “But kissing is a different level of affection.“
“Yeah…“, you admitted slowly, your gaze trained on the tips of your shoes as you paused by her side.
Lia let out a sigh of understanding and when you looked back up at her, her eyes were full of empathy. “You wanted it to be more than that, right?“
“I did.“ Your voice was hoarse and quieter than you expected. You cleared your throat.
“Oh, y/n.“
Before you could protest, Lia had pulled you into a tight hug.
For the first few seconds, the embrace felt soothing and comforting but then you shook your head, signalling your teammate to let go.
“But it’s okay. I know this will never happen with her.“, you said, once Lia took a step back.
The older player whipped out her phone again and started typing: “Let me text the others.“
“Wait, what?“
“They should talk to her.“, she explained quickly.
“Oh, that’s probably useless…“
With a stern face, Lia looked directly into your eyes: “No. I know you think this is probably not a big deal. But it is. It is hard enough being a queer woman, this should not be one of the things we should have to worry about as well.“
“What do you mean?“ The fierceness in her voice almost left you speechless.
“Being randomly kissed by a straight girl. I’m sure Lessi didn’t mean it like that but… she should know.“
“She should know what it means…“, you whispered. The kisses from earlier in the evening replayed in your mind and only then did you realize that Lia was right. Alessia was the one who had initiated this.
“The others will talk to her.“, Lia plainly said before gently pulling you along.
You immediately fell into step with her as she walked you to your flat. She only left when you assured her that you would be okay.
Crawling into your bed in the quiet of your home, you hoped that sleep would come quickly.
On the next day Leah was the first to approach her teammate, opening the conversation in her earnest England captain tone: “Lessi, can we talk?”
“Sure.”, Alessia mumbled a bit nervous due to the stern expression on the older blonde’s face.
“About last night.”, the defender continued, getting straight to the heart of what was about to be discussed.
“Is this about a kiss?”, she bit her lip in front of the older woman.
“Yes., Leah confirmed her fear before adding, Lia texted me that y/n wasn’t happy.”
“Of course, she wasn’t as a queer girl getting kissed by a straight one.”, Beth joined their talk shrugging.  
“That’s not what I..”, Alessia interjected with a helpless look on her face.
Clearing her throat to draw back the attention on her Leah asked the younger forward:” Why did you kiss her?”
At this point Alessia felt like she was being cross-examined by her friends.
“I just like..her so much.”, the blonde tried to explain her feelings for you in front of your teammates stammering.
“Like Lotte and Tooney?”, Beth questioned.
“ I thought so. But they never looked so..”
“Kissable?”, the England captain ended the sentence for her.
“Yes.”, Alessia nodded, licking her lips anxiously.
“Does she make you feel things like you did with boys before?”, the oldest of the players threw in.
“No, I’m not into girls.”, the younger forward shook her head.
More softly than before Leah responded:” Maybe not into girls but into her.”
“Into her?”, Alessia ran through her open hair to calm down her nerves, but she had to admit that this gesture didn’t help at all in this situation where their questions stirred something inside her for which she wouldn’t have simple answer.
“Yes.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”, the half Italian pointed out.
“Alessia.”, Beth tried to soothe her.
“I mean I’ve only been with men before.”, she reminded them and more important herself.
“Doesn’t mean it always has to be that way you know?”, Leah told her gently.
“But..”, Alessia begun.
“You don’t have to give yourself a label if that’s what’s concerning you.”, the defender emphasized.
“Thanks, girls.”, she whispered already deep into her own thoughts.
“Do you want to hear my humble opinion on this.”, Vivianne tuned in, turning up next to her girlfriend’s side.
 “Of course.”, Alessia said.
The Dutch woman looked deep into her eyes while talking solemnly:” Nothing of this matters. Who you dated before, how you label yourself. But if you want to keep kissing her, don’t deny yourself that. Otherwise, you should apologize to her.”
“Well, said Vivi.”, Beth said padding the shoulder of the taller player.
“You girls are the sweetest, but I don’t know.”, the younger Blonde forward answered genuinely.
“You don’t have to know yet.. just trust your feelings.”, Leah reassured her.
Alessia nodded slowly: “I think I should talk to her.“
“That sounds like a good idea.“, Vivianne agreed, giving her teammate a gentle pat on the shoulder.
You were on your way to leave the pitch when Alessia stopped you right after training.
“Oh hey, Less.“, you said casually, trying to move past her.
“Hey. Can we talk?“
You had dreaded this question but still nodded cautiously: “Yes.“
You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to get hurt.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you, that was wrong.“, Alessia apologized sincerely.
Trying to avoid her bright blue eyes, you looked straight over her shoulder: “To be fair, I kissed you back which… wasn’t right of me either considering you only kiss boys.“
“Don’t. I initiated it. I don’t know what had gotten into me.“
You finally looked at her, searching for any sign you could find. “So you really think it was just a mistake, huh?“
The striker frowned: “I didn’t say that.“
You were surprised by the defensiveness in her voice. “True.“
For a second, Alessia just stood there, studying you. Nervously, she ran a hand through her hair. “I’m just really damn confused about what happened.“
You immediately believed her. You knew the desperate expression in her eyes too well from yourself: “Trust me, I’m confused too.“
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to confuse you.“
In this moment, you wanted nothing more than to put your lips on hers to stop her from apologizing.
“I just don’t want you like a best friend, Less…“, you said, your jaw set defiantly.
“I never felt about anyone this way…“
“And I never felt like this about a teammate.“
There was silence between the two of you. Both scared to make the wrong move.
Alessias voice was light as a feather as she whispered: “Do you think this could be something?“
“I do.“
It felt like your heart was somersaulting in your chest.
Your best friend took your hand in hers, her face softening even more: “But you’ll have to be patient with me. I’m new to all of this.“
You let out a soft chuckle: “I mean your kisses were the opposite of patience.“
She playfully hit you on your arm: “If you don’t shut up, I’ll have to kiss you again!“
“Try it.“, you challenged her but quickly added with more seriousness: “But I promise we can take it slow.“
“Promise?“
“I promise.“
“Come here.“, Alessia said, pulling you in for a gentle but long-lasting kiss.
You broke apart as Katie yelled from somewhere: “Guys, I think the kids will be alright!“
As you looked up, you saw your teammates standing at the gate of the Arsenal grounds, watching you.
Lia winked at you before turning to Katie: “I think we have to admit that they’re not children anymore.“
“Told you so, Wally!“, Leah joined in.
Kim Little grimaced: “Ugh, young love is so disgusting.“
“Oh, Kimmy, we know you love them.“, Beth grinned at the small Scot.
You looked at Alessia with raised eyebrows: “I think it’s time for us to leave, Lessi.“
“I agree.“
Maybe this was just the trial stage but the way Alessias hand fitted so perfectly in yours, told you this was going to last.
You were almost out of earshot but you could still hear the smile in Kims voice: “Such a pretty couple.“
“We knew you thought that!“, Leahs voice shouted.
You bit back a smile. What would you do without those girls?
pictures are from pinterest.
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veryberryjelly · 4 months
Note
Hii! Can you please do prompt 25. "Hip bone kissing" (with Luke Castellan) thank you I love all of your work🫶🫶
luke castellan x reader
prompts ; ' kissing hip bones i repeat kissing hip bones ' [ ik i already did this prompt for art but i love it so im doing it for luke too ]
𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 !
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the last day before the summer campers arrived was like the last days of rome for the camp counsellors.
they always took the opportunity to go a bit mental on the last day, spending all day by the lake, very often someone snuck in some beers and wine coolers to enjoy for the day and it always ended with a bonfire before everyone went to sleep, prepared for the campers to come tomorrow.
you were always down for a lake day, and today was no exception.
you had been in the water for around half an hour before you pulled yourself up onto the wooden dock and wung out your hair before sitting yourself down on the damp wood next to your boyfriend.
he had opted to stay out of the water today, saying he felt a bit unwell, but he still wanted to enjoy the sun with everyone even if it meant he had to lounge on the dock in a t-shirt and a cap to protect himself from the sun.
you set your head down on his shoulder, a soft smile settling on your lips.
" you doing okay ?" you questioned, your arm sliding around his torso.
he was quiet and that alone was enough of a sign something might be wrong.
" yeah, but i think i'm gonna head back to my cabin " he relented, bringing his gaze towards you, it was then that you noticed the slight clamminess on his cheeks.
" you want some company ?" you questioned. if he wasnt feeling great you would happily give up your final free day and spend it with him. but he shook his head simply
" that's okay, enjoy your day, i'll see you at dinner, okay ?" he waited until you nodded before he pressed a short kiss to your lips and padded up the dock, back towards his cabin.
the day wasnt the same after that.
you loved luke's presence more than you realised.
by the time lunch rolled around and the other counsellors headed to the dining hall, you couldn't ignore how much you missed him.
you split up from the group on their way through camp and headed to luke's cabin.
you knocked softly on the door but ultimately pushed it open before hearing a reply.
and when you walked in you realised you would've been stood out there for a while waiting for a reply.
luke was passed out on his bed, his shirt discarded on the mattress beside him.
one look at his chest and you were clued in to why he had been feeling so crumby by the water.
a small patch of heat rash had spread on his chest.
you took the few steps over to him your fingers lifting up to push through his hair in an attempt to gently wake him.
but when that did no good you pressed a delicate kiss onto his forehead, then another onto his nose.
his chin.
his chest.
his abdomen.
you saw his chest rise and fall with a sigh before you could go any further and a grin spread across his lips.
" don't stop on my account, sweetheart " he teased, and while he was teasing you decided to take his words at face value.
you pressed a kiss to his stomach, your bottom lip brushing against his shorts but you stopped descending his body there, instead choosing to press a band of kisses onto his hips, starting for his left hip bone and travelling across before settling your head against his stomach.
" you feeling okay ?" you questioned when his hand lifted to brush your hair from your face.
" much better now, thank you baby "
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likedovesinthewindd · 4 months
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𖹭 ⊹ ˚.
It had been a very close match– everyone who had watched would agree. Art truly had no reason to feel bad. He still did, though, the look he gave you made you want to run up on the astro turf and wrap your arms around him. You tried comforting him as best as you could, but you were only met with a small nod and silence further.
He hadn't talked much since then either, the ride back home only paired with the sound of the radio playing softly. You didn't like when he got like this; in his own head, brewing with who knew what kinds of thoughts. You could almost feel the tension he had in his body as you watched the way he held the steering wheel with a white-knuckling grip.
The first thing he did when he got inside your hotel room was make his way to the showers while you decided to call your parents and get ready for bed. By the time he was done, you were already in bed, the room's lights turned off as you laid quietly. He watched the way your body rose and sunk softly with each breath, his body relaxing at the sight of you.
He moved beneath the sheets, shuffling in bed until his chest was pressed against your back. His arm wrapped around your middle, his hand finding its place underneath your sleep shirt and splayed across the plush of your stomach. You hummed half asleep, placing your hand atop of his and giving it a squeeze.
As much as you hated when he got like this, you knew he'd always find his way back to you, and you'd always be waiting for him with open arms. "You alright?" you asked softly, smiling at the feeling of his mouth against the back of your neck. A few soft kisses were placed to the area before he spoke up. "Yeah," he spoke, his warm breath against your skin tickling you. You turned around in his grasp, his hand moving to rub over your hip and the top of your thigh.
You moved to rest your hand against the side of his face, watching as he turned his head to place a kiss to the inside of your palm. "You know I'm really proud of you, right?" you asked quietly, watching his eyes close for a few seconds, an almost pained expression on his face before re-opened them. "I know," he said, sighing as your thumb softly swiped across his cheek. "And I'll always be proud of you. Always," you added after a few moments.
A silence filled the room once again, before Art spoke up. "I wanna retire," his voice interrupted the short pause. You nodded, moving closer to place a kiss to his forehead. "Okay," you breathed, pulling away with a small smile. His head dipped down to your chest, moving impossibly closer to you as his arms wrapped around you and your legs intertwines with each other. You held him happily as his head rested on your chest, listening to the rhythmic thrum of your heartbeat.
"I love you," he sighed, eyes falling closed as his body finally, finally realaxed. "I love you too," you smiled, placing a kiss on top of his hair, "so much. You don't even know."
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zweiginator · 3 months
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hey bestie could I request patrick and art taking turns eating the reader out (or at the same time)????? feel like that would be my dream fr. love your writing!!!
OH.
patrick and arts' confidence had been struggling. they had just lost their fourth doubles match. in a row. this was uncommon--no, it had never happened before. one loss happens. two is bad luck. three is shaken confidence. but four, four becomes a habit.
and you heard their coach yelling at them after their loss. you, expecting your best friends to win, had promised to take them out for wings at their favorite bar after their win. of course, they didn't win, but their dejected little puppy dog eyes made you feel so bad. so you took them out anyway.
you would never tell them this, but they look so cute in their matching outfits. snug black shorts that hug their muscular thighs. a t-shirt adorning their beloved tennis club. art wore his ball cap backwards; patrick's was worn the normal way.
and they were so sad. barely talking to you, sighing as they sucked and bit on their wings, pushing their fingers into their mouth. you kind of just watched them eat.
and the thing about your relationship with art and patrick was that it had teetered and almost bled over the line for the one and a half years you all had been friends. nothing about your relationship was traditional. on the road, you would all share a bed. and sometimes you wore art's shirt to bed and patrick's boxers. you commented on how handsome they look multiple times a week, and laughed at how flustered they would get. the boys ogled at your ass when you played your own matches, the wind pushing your tiny skirt up as a gift to them. but you had never, ever fully committed to pushing those boundaries. none of you had ever kissed, nor had you indulged in your sexual fantasies.
but that doesn't mean you didn't have them. and you knew art and patrick talked about them when you weren't there.
so you had an idea. it was stupid, and maybe you were feeling cocky at how pathetic they looked sitting across from you in a silence that was bordering on uncomfortable. but you gave them a deal.
"your guys' confidence is wavering." you tell them, pushing your finger into their basket of wings. you suck some of the sauce off. patrick and art are listening; it's the first thing anyone has said at this celebratory-dinner-turned -depressing-pity-party. "and hey, you're both incredibly good at tennis. so it makes sense that you're this upset."
they nod, and reach for the same fry. art pushes the basket towards patrick, and he happily shoves a handful in his mouth.
"but if you sit here and let it get you down, you're both gonna get in your head and keep losing."
"how do we avoid that? it may be too late." patrick takes a sip of his drink. art has his arms crossed over his chest.
"have something that drives you to want to win so bad, that you don't have a choice but to win." you lean forward. their eyes are big and confused.
"we always want to win." art shrugs.
"and if you do," you begin. "i will give you both a present of sorts."
"which is?" patrick's interest is piqued. but you can tell he's pissed at you insinuating they don't want to win enough.
"if you win your doubles on thursday, i'll let you do whatever you want to me." you whisper it, and hear them gulp.
your promise alluded to a conversation you had overheard six months prior. you weren't even supposed to be at their apartment, but you had had a bad day and wanted to watch a movie with them. they were talking loud in the living room, and you quickly realized it was about you.
"i wouldn't purposely ruin our friendship, is what i'm saying." art said. "but if she let us fuck her--i would do it immediately."
patrick interjected. "i would do disgusting things to her. and i would let her do them right back to me. seriously, anything."
the word anything was the kicker here. because ever since that conversation, you wondered what anything would be for them. how they would fuck you. what their fantasies were.
patrick wipes his mouth with a napkin and leans forward. "both of us together? or we separately can do anything we want?"
you shrug. "whatever you both want. that's the promise. i don't have any stipulations on how it's done."
"holy fuck." art is flustered, maybe because he realizes you know he is just as perverted as his best friend.
you all shook on it, like it was a stupid bet. it kind of was.
and by thursday, you were nervous. they were playing some of the top-ranked players in the nation. of course, art and patrick had good rankings, respectively, but they had been steadily dropping down the ranks since their losing streak began.
everyone at the match was rooting for art and patrick, but they didn't expect them to win. and you didn't know what it meant for your friendship with the boys that you were on the edge of your seat with your fingers crossed, praying they would win. for you.
they came out strong, waving to the crowd, but especially to you. and when the match began, you had never seen their reflexes so fast, their hits so precise. the other boys were gaining on them, but the deep grunts coming from art and patrick, the sweat running down their necks, it all showed they wanted this so fucking bad.
they won like it was easy. of course, they had actually tried incredibly hard--but they made it look nonchalant. and they looked at you as they hugged each other, celebrating a win that signified much more than fans saw on the surface.
they decided to cash in their prize that same night. that's what they said when they came up to you, beaming. their chests heaved, but their smiles were big. and nobody around knew exactly what they meant.
so you lay on patrick's bed, in your little skirt and a tank top, resting up on your elbows so you can watch them. you notice how they are both there; they didn't decide to go separately.
neither of them really say a word at first. patrick slips one of your shoes off and art the other. they look at each other as their hands run up your bare leg, until they reach the waistband of your skirt.
"do you wanna do the honors, artie?" patrick asks.
art quickly pulls your skirt down your legs. they admire the pink lacy panties you're wearing.
"take off your shirt." art tells you.
you do, quickly. you aren't wearing a bra. their breath hitches.
"fuck me." patrick lunges forward and sucks your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the sensitive bud. art goes for your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down to your collarbones. his strong hands feel your breast. you're trying not to moan, not to give them the satisfaction that this is for anyone but them. but you do.
art returns the favor by turning your face to his. he kisses you desperately, moaning into your mouth, his spit wet on your chin. patrick feels left out. he moves up your body by kissing your jaw on the other side, before he forcefully kisses your mouth. he is hungry. at a quick glance, you see how hard they are. but they don't pull out their cocks. they don't pull your hand to feel their erections. and they don't tell you to suck them off.
ininstead,stead their mouths travel downward, each of them pulling one of your legs apart. they press sloppy kisses down your chest, licking down your stomach, until they are laying on their own stomachs, looking up at you. patrick kisses your inner thigh. he pulls your panties down your legs.
"her pussy is so pretty." art admires. they're talking like you're not even there.
"look how fucking wet she is."
your legs shake as you bite your lip.
"should we take turns, or should we share?" art asks.
patrick is greedy, and he hooks both of his arms around your legs, his hands on your ass. he presses wet, hot kisses to your cunt and licks at your clit. your hips buck, and art pushes them down, cooing in your ear. you can tell he's jealous, that he wants to help too.
"good girl." art praises. his breath feels good against your ear, and you move to kiss him, your hands tangled in his pretty blond hair.
patrick's fingers move inside you. they're fat and soaked and his tongue feels good as it moves in circles over your swollen clit.
art pulls away from your mouth and patrick pulls the hem of art's shirt.
"come taste her."
your mouth hangs open as patrick pulls his fingers from you and offers them to art. and the moan you let out as art sucks them into his mouth is fucking pornographic.
and then art's mouth is on your cunt. his fingers press into your thighs and it hurts in the best way. art is louder than you expected, and louder than patrick. he spits on your cunt and spreads it open to admire your hole, soaked and pretty for them. he hums and moans and groans into your pussy, and patrick can't take it.
so they share you. their tongues touch and their spit mixes as they eat your pussy, their hips bucking into the bed.
"tastes so fucking good." patrick moans, his thumb pushing into you.
art looks up at you, at how fucked out you look. you cum on their tongues--both of them. and you watch as they continue to lap at your sensitive clit, begging you to cum just one more time for them.
they don't want this to be over. and you think about how this was what they wanted, this is what they decided on when you gave them that choice. this was their anything.
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wholoveseggs · 3 months
Note
Heyy, you should make an Elijah fic where it’s set where he has his middle part and he falls in love with Elena’s best friend as the reader? With fluff and smut please!!! 🤍🤍
Rules {Part One}
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Part One
As the little sister of the Salvatores, trouble always finds you. Whether it's from a vampire, werewolf or an original, you are always at the center of it. When the mysterious villain Elijah comes to Mystic Falls, everyone is trying to stop him from hurting Elena. But you? You might be falling in love...
♡♡ Thanks for the request beautiful anon! Middle part Elijah will forever have me in a chokehold && it's about time I write a little bit about the Salvatore brothers...♡♡
2k words - Warnings: this one is just mainly smut, foreplay, secret affair, enemies to lovers, Elijah being the sexiest middle-part menace he can be, reader is a lot like her brother Damon... will this turn into a romeo and juilet tragic romance ? maybee
{Part Two} {Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}
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"Rules? I don't recall such things..." You giggled softly, kicking your feet a little, a wide smile on your face.
Laying on your stomach in front of the fireplace at the boarding house, you chatted on the phone with Elijah. You ran your fingers through the soft rug underneath you, biting your lip and waiting for a response from him.
"Hmm, perhaps you just have a very poor memory then," Elijah murmured, you could hear the smile in his voice. It had you grinning like an idiot, and you had to roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling just to calm yourself down. You felt giddy, excited, and so many other emotions that you thought were long dormant in your old age.
"Perhaps..." You murmured, letting out a happy sigh and smiling at the ceiling.
"Let me refresh your memory," Elijah whispered into the phone, his tone calm and deep, as he sat back in the large leather chair in his office. "Rule one, when we are together, it will just be us,"
"And it will be," You assured him, closing your eyes, imagining his voice directly in your ear. "Everyone has gone away for the night,"
"I don't see why we don't just rent a room," He chuckled softly.
"Because," you murmured, feeling shyer by the second. "I want you to see my room, I have some books and art to share with you, there's this painting I hung up the other day that you would love..."
Elijah smiled, looking down and picking at a piece of lint on his pants, unable to deny how much he liked that thought. "I would love to see all the details of what makes you happy,"
You blushed, sitting up on your thighs, the heat of the fireplace warming your back.
"So? Come over?" You asked, hopeful, almost squirming with need.
Elijah knew this was a bad idea, if the Salvatore brothers returned, he would have to deal with their wrath. They were the enemy, but you... You were a weakness, one he couldn't seem to ignore.
"What would I get in return?" He wondered, standing up and moving over to the window.
You grinned, a plan forming. "Anything you want..."
Elijah licked his lips, feeling his heart beat just a bit faster.
"You are dangerous..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Give me an hour,"
You giggled happily, rolling onto your stomach and kicking your legs behind you. "I'll be waiting,"
With a small hum of confirmation, Elijah ended the call.
You tossed your phone aside and scurried to your room, deciding what to wear. Usually you weren't shy or nervous to hook-up with someone, but with Elijah it was different.
It had been a few weeks, and you had both agreed, the last time would be the only time. But then one thing led to another, a text here, an invitation there, and now you couldn't deny the pull between the two of you.
After showering and shaving and washing, you stood naked in your closet and looked through the clothes. You finally settled on a simple yet expensive lingerie set that hugged your body and pushed up your breasts. Then you slipped into a simple black dress, deciding to keep it casual, since you were planning on being naked for most of the night.
A knock on the door made you grin, and you rushed to the door, your excitement bubbling to the surface.
Elijah stood on the porch, hands tucked in the pockets of his long trench coat, a small smile on his face.
"Hello, Miss Salvatore," He said softly, stepping inside.
You shut the door behind him, pressing your back against it, taking in the man before you.
"Elijah," You purred, grinning like a cat. "Glad you could join me,"
Elijah hummed softly, his eyes roaming your form. You could see the lust in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched.
"You know, the last time we were alone, I believe we agreed this would not happen again," Elijah reminded, taking a step forward, closing the gap between you.
"Hmm, did we?" You murmured, your hand reaching out and running down the front of his suit, feeling the material. You stopped and looked up at him, a grin on your face.
He leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. His hands went to your hips, pulling you flush against him.
You let out a small gasp, a hand going to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.
You pulled away, your cheeks a light pink and your breathing heavy. He already had you dizzy, and he had barely done anything.
"How about a tour?" He murmured, a smile on his lips.
"Sure," You nodded, pulling him towards the stairs, a giddy smile on your face.
He followed along, not paying attention to the art and paintings on the walls, instead he was watching you, the way your hips swayed with every step, and the smile on your face as you brought him closer and closer to your bedroom.
As soon as you stepped through the door, Elijah's hands were on your waist, his lips kissing along your neck and shoulders. He kicked the door close, and started pushing you further into the room.
You stumbled a little, giggling and holding onto his arm, letting him push you towards the bed. You spun around and faced him, and he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. You ran your hands up his chest and to his tie, unknotting it and throwing it on the ground. You worked on his jacket next, sliding it off his shoulders and down his arms, leaving him in his white shirt.
"Mm, you're rushing," Elijah teased, nipping at your bottom lip, his hands gripping your hips tightly.
"No, no, you're just too slow," You shot back, ripping open his shirt, the buttons flying across the room.
Elijah looked down at his torn shirt, and then up at you, his lips curled into a smirk. "Careful,"
"Or what?" You teased, running your fingers through his hair, a playful glint in your eyes.
Elijah pushed you backwards, and you fell onto the bed, letting out a laugh as he crawled up your body, his mouth attaching to your neck, sucking and biting, making you moan.
"Greedy little vampire, aren't you?" He murmured against your skin, his hands running up your thighs, slowly pushing your dress up.
"Hmm, for you," You purred, tugging at his belt, getting frustrated when you couldn't get it undone.
Elijah chuckled, sitting up and working his belt free, a cocky smirk on his lips. You rolled your eyes, and wiggled your way out of your dress, tossing it onto the ground, leaving you in nothing but the black lace lingerie.
"My, my," Elijah said slowly, his eyes drinking in the sight before him. "You look stunning,"
You bit your lip, a small smile on your face as he climbed back on top of you, his hands running up your sides.
"This was an excellent choice," He murmured, running his fingers over the lace. "Maybe I should rip it off, make it match my shirt,"
"Don't you dare," You warned, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing his mouth to yours.
Your hand rested against his stomach, and you let it wander up his chest. You could feel his strength as he held himself over you, the muscles of his arms flexing, his chest rising and falling.
His hair fell into his face, framing his cheekbones, his intense gaze fixed on you. You blushed and tucked his hair behind his ear, running your finger along his sharp jaw.
"You're so handsome," You breathed, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them.
Elijah chuckled, his breath hot against your skin.
"And you're breathtaking," He murmured, before ripping off your lingerie, leaving you completely bare beneath him.
"I told you not to do that," You gasped, though you weren't really angry, your blood was already rushing south.
He grinned, his fingers trailing up your leg, teasing your core. You spread your legs wider, and he eased a finger inside you, chuckling as your annoyed expression melted into pleasure. He watched you like this, lips parted, panting softly. Then he added second finger, then a third, until he was fucking you with three fingers, the palm of his hand brushing against your clit.
"Elijah," You moaned, tugging him down, kissing him roughly.
Elijah smirked against your lips, and curled his fingers, finding that sweet spot that had you seeing stars.
"Fuck," You moaned, arching off the bed, your eyes screwed shut.
"That's it," He encouraged, his eyes dark with lust as he watched you, his fingers picking up speed, curling and twisting inside you.
"I can't..." You whined, squirming and grabbing his wrist.
"But you can," He mumbled, kissing you deeply. You moaned into the kiss as he moved his hand faster. The tension was so delicious and intoxicating, but before you could reach your release, Elijah was pulling his hand back.
You were so lost in pleasure you didn't hear the sound of the front door opening, or the noise of Stefan and Damon entering the house.
But Elijah did. He froze, his ears trained on the footsteps of the Salvatore brothers. He cursed under his breath, and turned to look down at you, a smirk playing on his lips.
You frowned at the lack of contact, and pouted, looking up at him, confused. You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off with a kiss.
Then you heard them.
In a flash Elijah was gone, all that was left of his touch was your scattered breathing and lust filled eyes.
You heard the sound of your brother's footsteps coming up the stairs and pulled a blanket over yourself. A moment later Damon and Stefan walked in the doorway.
"What do you want?" You muttered, looking grumpy, and trying to sound like you were angry at being interrupted from a good sleep.
"Just checking in," Stefan smiled, before noticing how disheveled your hair was, the blush in your cheeks, and the fact that you were wrapped in a blanket and nothing else.
"Have you been here all night?" Damon asked, looking concerned.
"Yes," You snapped, sitting up and pulling the blankets tighter around you. "I was tired and fell asleep reading,"
Stefan and Damon shared a look, neither looked like they were buying your story.
"We'll let you rest," Stefan nodded, heading for the door, giving you a suspicious look.
"Yeah, go back to sleep, we'll be downstairs," Damon murmured, shooting you a knowing look, before following his brother out the door, shutting it behind him.
Once they were gone, you collapsed back against the pillows, letting out a breath.
You could still feel Elijah's lips on yours, still smell his cologne, still taste him on your tongue. You closed your eyes, a smile spreading across your face.
It was in that moment, that you knew you were absolutely, undeniably, hopelessly, in love with Elijah.
And, without a doubt, completely and utterly fucked.
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{Part Two} {Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}
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♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
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♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 ♡ @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahstwink ♡ @rosecentury ♡ @sekaishell ♡ @ziayamikaelson ♡ @amanda08319 ♡ @starshipcookie ♡
@li-da-savage
836 notes · View notes
4unnyr0se · 3 months
Note
hhii 🫶🏼💕 I know you're probably busy and I visible kick my feet n twirl my hair when you post, your writing is so amazing 💕💕 I would love any sort of p!tskp sugawara content 🥹 he doesn't get enough love
❥ elysian | koshi sugawara
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warnings: timeskip! sugawara, fem! reader, coworkers to lovers, mentions of alcohol, reader went to shiratorizawa, making out, sugawara is a flirt bc i said so, hickeys, cunnilingus, fingering, sugawara is a gentleman, protected sex, rough(?) sex, fluff at the end, not proofread
MDNI | 18+ content
word count -> 5.3k (lol)
a/n: hiiii omg im sorry this took so long to make but i hope u like it!! koshi is my fave <3
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Art has a funny way of bringing together people they would never meet. “It’s a catalyst of romance,” your professor used to say when you were in art school. But that was a year ago, and so far, there was nothing: no romance, no dates, nothing. However, you didn’t mind one bit. Your art degree landed you a job teaching children at the local elementary school, and they brought you constant laughter. Sure, it was pure chaos the second a gaggle of second graders entered your classroom. But it was innocent chaos formed by nothing but the innocent minds of children longing to create something out of nothing. Getting paint on their hands or glue in their hair was chaotic, but it was free. Besides, it wouldn’t be your problem if they returned to the homeroom covered in glitter. That was for their homeroom teacher to take care of. You were the fun teacher, the one who had all the neat stuffed animals and who put on cartoons in the background. Honestly, your job was perfect.
It became even more perfect when the homeroom teacher for your most recent class actually came to collect the children instead of you having to escort them back to their classroom. The children were happily giggling in line as you clapped your hands together. “Okay, guys, who’s ready to return to Mr. Sugawara’s room?” the children raised their hands in the air, various versions of yes filling the room. 
“Miss!” one child pointed out. “Mr. Sugawara is outside the door,” he said, his little voice slurring his words slightly. You turned around to see a green sweater in the window frame.
“Oh, he must be coming to collect you today,” you smiled, patting the child on the head. You opened the door without looking, waving goodbye to your students.
“Thanks for watching my kids for today, Miss,” his soft yet deep voice filled your ears. It sounded like warm honey rolling off of his tongue. “I know they can be a real handful.”
“It’s no probl-” your words stopped in your throat once you turned around. Holy fuck, Sugawara was handsome as all hell. He had such a kind face, and his silver hair matched him perfectly. And that beauty mark on his cheek? Fucking ethereal. He looked like one of the great masters painted him, jumping to life off of their canvas.  “O-oh, hi, Mr. Sugawara! Yeah, your kids are no problem at all. In fact, they’re a delight to teach.” you stammered, placing your hands in front of your belly. 
Sugawara chuckled. “Maybe they just behave because you put on cartoons,” he playfully winked, instructing the child at the line's font to follow him. “Well, I’ll see you next week.” 
And with that, he left, the children obediently following him like a line of baby ducklings. You sighed happily, leaning against the doorframe until they were out of your sight. The door closed, and your hand lingered on the knob, mind being filled with thoughts of him.
“Oh no,” you mumbled, running your other hand through your hair. “I have a crush on my coworker.”
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You began to long for the days when you taught Sugawara’s class because it meant you could see his handsome face outside of the window. He would even come in occasionally, greeting you with a friendly smile as he ushered his students out of the door. He was so caring, so kind and attentive. The way his students looked at him with such admiration in their eyes, there was no word for it other than adorable. Koshi Sugawara made you swoon every single time, and he had absolutely no idea that he had that power over you.
Today was a messy day in particular because the children got to make macaroni crafts with glue and noodles on construction paper. It was a reasonably elementary project (it’s an elementary school, after all…), but it was so chaotic. Macaroni noodles were found in places that macaroni noodles should not be, and glue was somehow covering every surface it possibly could, including the ceiling. You will never know or hope to understand how a gaggle of giggling children managed to get glue atop a roof. 
“Alright, kiddos, line up for Mr. Sugawara to come collect you for pick-up time.” you breathed out, wiping your forehead while the students shrieked in delight, fighting for the spot first in line. Your hands rested on your desk as you took a deep breath, glaring at the mess across your otherwise elegant classroom. “I’m gonna be here a while,” you mumbled, waiting for the doorknob to turn. 
The children’s conversation stopped as their eyes turned to the now-open door, Sugawara smiling happily. “Did you all have fun today in class? You’re so messy!” he chuckled, bending down to be at eye level with his students. “The librarian is gonna bring you guys to your parents, okay? Be good for them now.” 
Various shouts of “Okay!” and “I can do it!” faded into the distance as the children left the classroom, holding their sticky hands together to follow the librarian’s lead. Sugawara sighed and ran his hands through his perfect wavy gray strands, winking at you. “Were they a handful today? It looks like it.”
You pushed off your desk and stepped towards him, secretly doing backflips in your mind. “Well, kind of. But they’re delightful and-”
“You don’t have to sugarcoat it. I know they can be monsters sometimes.” he chuckled.
“Yeah, they were monsters,” you sigh, shoving your hands in the pockets of your floor-length cardigan. “They’ve been so good thus far. I don’t understand why they went insane today. It’s just glue and pasta noodles.” you groaned, looking at the mess across the rainbow-colored table that the children painted themselves. “I’m probably gonna have to stay after-hours to clean this up,” you rolled your head to the side in exhaustion. “Which blows because I had dinner plans. And by that, I mean I was gonna order Chinese food and watch soap operas in my pajamas. It’s Friday, after all.” the exhaustion from the students overrode your anxiety around your crush, making you much more candid. 
“Look,” Sugawara took a step forward. “I know my kids were a pain in the ass today. I love them, but they were a pain. Let me help you clean up the classroom. It’s the least I can do for causing you to miss Chinese food and pajamas night.” he shrugged off his green sweater vest, rolling up his white sleeves. You suppressed a groan at the sight before you. Did he know how tantalizing he was being?
“Are you sure? I can do it by myself,” you snapped the hair tie around your wrist, pulling your disarray of strands into a messy bun. “I’ve cleaned up after them before.”
Sugawara shook his head, smiling. “Don’t be silly, I don’t mind at all. It’s equally my fault, too. Now,” he stretched, exposing the tiniest bit of his midriff. “Where are the cleaning supplies?”
You pointed to the cabinet under the sink, blushing softly. “Uh, there’s sponges in the sink. They’re ancient, though.”
“Old things still have use. That’s why we keep them around for so long.” he chuckled, holding a bottle of cleaner and a sponge. “I’ll start on the tables. Maybe you can get the counters? The tables are the messiest.”
You shrugged off your cardigan, letting it fall onto the swiveling chair that the children loved playing on. You wore a simple black tank top, which was permitted by the school’s dress code as long as it had a cover-up that was buttoned. Sugawara’s soft brown eyes lingered on you briefly, returning to scrubbing the tables. The minutes you were passed by with tasteful conversation between the two of you, ranging from various subjects such as what high school you attended to what made you want to become a teacher.
“No way, you went to Karasuno?” you laughed, throwing away the third empty box of macaroni you had found. “I went to Shiratorizawa!”
“You did not!” Sugawara laughed, cracking his back as he scrubbed the second table to a sparkling shine. “I can’t believe you went there. You don’t seem like the type.” he flashed you a smile; it was so pretty. All of his smiles were pretty.
“What, you don’t think I could be prude and stuck-up?” you pretended to clutch your pearls. “I’ll have you know that I was bullied constantly. Thank you very much.”
“Crap, I’m sorry. I didn’t-” 
“Dude, relax. I didn’t care one bit. The volleyball team you destroyed before going to nationals was always kind to me. Especially Goshiki, for some reason.”
“The kid with the awful bowl cut?”
“Exactly!” you giggled, enjoying the moment the two of you were sharing. “They were always nice to me, even though I was the weird kid. I hung out in the art room most of the time, painting and sculpting,” you paused your scrubbing for a moment, nostalgia taking over your thoughts. “I kind of miss it.”
“Tell me about it,” Sugawara scrubbed off the final table, sitting beside you on the caterpillar rug. “You know I taught Hinata how to receive a ball and how he plays professionally? I feel proud but also sad. He’s doing so much with his life.”
Your hand hovered above Sugawara’s shoulder, landing on the soft fabric of his shirt to gently massage it. “Hey, we’re doing just fine with our lives. We teach little people things they didn’t know before, which has to count for something.” you offer him an assuring smile, your cheeks happily blushing.
Sugawara smiled in return, topping your hand with his own. “Yeah, I guess it does count for something,” his gaze focused on the classroom, which was about three-fourths of the way clean. “Hey, what time is it?”
“Maybe six o’clock?” you shrugged. “The clock in this room is broken. A kid from another class threw a pebble at it.”
“Do you still think you have time for your evening plans?” Sugawara got off of the caterpillar rug, dusting off his slacks. He offered his hand for you to take, pulling you off the floor. 
Nodding, you went to your desk to check the time on your phone. Yup, it was six o’clock. “I mean, probably. Why?”
“Would you mind if I joined you?” Sugawara blushed. “This is going to sound stupid, but I’ve meant to ask you out for a while. I just don’t exactly have the guts for that sort of thing, that’s all.”
You covered your mouth with your hand, giggling. “You wanna ask me out? That’s…wow. I mean,” you were at a loss for words, the prettiest shade of pink flooding your cheeks. “I’m more than happy to, Sugawara.”
He beamed at you, grabbing your wrist. “Well, would you wanna go to your place and order some Chinese food? I can pay. I’ll be a total gentleman.” he chuckled. His laugh was so gentle. 
“You’re cute,” you grab your purse, walk out of your classroom, and lock the door. Sugawara stood behind you, the grin not yet leaving his handsome features. “How the hell are you single?” you joke, the two of you making your way to your car.
“I haven’t the foggiest clue,” Sugawara giggled.
 You took your keys and unlocked the vehicle. “You didn’t drive here?” you tugged the handle of your car.
“Oh, I did. I just wanted to walk you to your car. Was that not okay?” he looked worried.
You shook your head and smiled once more. “You’re so sweet, Sugawara. Do you need my address?”
“Yeah,” he typed your address on your phone, double-checking to ensure everything was correctly spelled. “So, I’ll see you in thirty minutes?”
You nodded and got in your car, turning it on and driving away. Once you were out of the school’s faculty parking lot, you screamed joyfully as the radio played your favorite band. Your manicured fingers tapped on the steering wheel with the tune of the music, and the windows rolled down. You felt like you were in a romantic comedy, and it felt fucking incredible. 
You entered your apartment, checking out your reflection in the mirror. There wasn’t any use in changing into something more presentable; it was supposed to be a casual date. Your thoughts began to wander, focusing on Sugawara’a’s handsome features. The way his gray hair swayed when he walked, the beauty mark under his left eye. He was beautiful, and he wanted to date you. Your hand caressed your cheek, your face breaking into a smile that rivaled that of a lovestruck schoolgirl. Did the hands on the clock suddenly get slower, or was it just the anticipation that filled your stomach with dancing butterflies?
The thoughts that raced through your mind made you groan, sliding down onto the chair in your kitchen. “Hm, I should probably put out some wine…is wine casual? No, right? But we’re both adults…so maybe it’s okay?” you grew frustrated, staring at the bottle that had been gifted to you by a coworker for your birthday. “It’s a special occasion, after all…what’s wrong with a little wine and Chinese food?” 
Your eyes wandered back and forth, following the tail of your cat clock until it was around when Sugawara said he would arrive. You waited anxiously by the door, excited to hear a knocking. Were you being too weird about this? You shook your head. Absolutely not. This was perfectly normal. Just two coworkers on a date—what could go wrong?
Knock-knock. You jumped out of your thoughts and gulped, carefully turning the doorknob. Sugawara stood in front of you, still in his teaching outfit. Green sweater, white shirt, black tie. He held a small bouquet of roses in his hand, blushing softly. “I missed you,”
You leaned against the doorway, inviting him inside. “It’s only been thirty minutes,” you said, trying to keep it cool. Then, shutting the door, you walked away.
“It was still way too long. Where should I put these?” he kicked off his shoes.
“I’ll get a vase,” you said, taking the roses and bringing them to your nose. Their scent was extraordinary—smelling of romance and morning dew. It was no wonder they were such a romantic flower. “These are pretty, by the way. Thanks, Sugawara.” You grabbed a tall, empty glass and filled it with water, placing the roses into it. 
“Koshi,” he insisted, standing behind you. “You can call me Koshi. I insist,” his hand trailed up your arm. “Please, call me Koshi.”
You squeaked, goosebumps appearing on your arm. “W-wow, we're on a first-name basis already. You must really like me.” You tried to use humor to cope with the ever-growing tension.
“Maybe I do,” his husky breath whispered into your ear. Forgive me if I’m being too forward,” he snuck his arms around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. But I want you to be as close to me as possible.”
“Koshi!” you squealed, nearly dropping the vase. “I-I thought you were a gentleman!” your bottom lip trembled.
He hummed, resting his top atop your head. “I am, but I got the sense that you don’t want me to be a gentleman right now,” he purred, his fingers snaking to the hem of your top. “Ever since I saw you, I felt you wanted the same thing I did. We just never had the means to interact, at least not before today.”
“What are you saying…?” you turned your head to gaze into his eyes.
“I’m saying,” his hands slid under your top, his fingertips burning your skin. “Even though I want to sit on your couch and eat Chinese food with you,” his lips hovered above yours. “I’d like to kiss you first.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, the words you were about to say dying on your tongue. You could only nod, your face cartoonishly flushed as Sugawara held you closer to his form. 
He chuckled and pressed his lips against yours, kissing you gently and softly. His lips were plump and plush, faintly tasting of caramel and vanilla. Your lips rolled along with his, smiling into the kiss. He turned you around so you were pressed against the counter, your hands gripping the granite countertops. His hands rested snugly on your waist, rubbing the tiniest bit of exposed skin. 
Sugawara broke the kiss after several blissful moments, snickering. “I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I saw you in that classroom with my students,” he said, pulling you further into his chest. Your hands gripped his sweater. “It took all my restraint not to pull you into a janitor’s closet and make out with you. All. Of. It.” he punctuated his sentence with pecks on your nose. “Did you…did you feel that way about me, too?”
You chuckled. “Of course I did. I was just too nervous to say anything,” you assured him, leaning upwards in the hopes that he would kiss you again. “Now, are we going to get back to what we started, or are you gonna keep teasing me?”
Sugawara smirked, slamming his lips against yours with newfound confidence. His hands roamed further down your torso, landing on the curve of your ass. He squeezed it, earning a cute little moan from your pretty lips. He slipped his tongue inside your mouth, pulling away after a second. He only took a moment's pause before forcefully tilting your head to the side, brushing your hair out of the way so his pillowy lips could better pepper your neck in kisses.
You gasped, your fingers finding purchase in his silvery locks. He groaned against your neck as you tugged, biting down gently onto the spot just above your collarbone. He relished in the noises that escaped your lips, sucking a perfectly circular bruise to mark you as his. “Y’can just cover it up with a turtleneck or something, right?” he mumbled, slapping your ass. “God, you look so fucking sexy right now. Do you know that?”
“Koshi, I wore this to teach today. How the hell is it sexy?” you breathed. 
“Because it’s on your body,” he growled, nipping at your bottom lip. “This kitchen isn’t the proper place for what I wanna do to you. Where’s your bedroom?”
His words made you weak at the knees. “A-around the corner,” you pointed.
“Fantastic,” he grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the kitchen with a devious smirk. You giggled, both nervous and excited. He flung open the door to your bedroom, scooping you up in his arms and throwing you onto the neatly made bed. 
You landed on the plush pillows behind you, giggling as Sugawara climbed over you. His hands landed on either side of your head, another smirk decorating his lips. “You have an eye for decor,” he leaned down, hovering his lip against yours. His husky breath was like a drug. Who knew someone who seemed too gentle could be a completely different person in the sheets? 
He crashed his lips against yours once more, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist as his tongue explored your mouth yet again. He groaned, sending shockwaves through your body. He was gentle yet dominant, making you want him all the more. Sugawara pulled away with a harsh smack of his lips, breaking the saliva strand connecting your lips. 
The pads of his fingers danced on the hem of your top. His brown eyes bore into yours for permission to take it off. He thanked you with a peck on your now exposed abdomen, tossing your shirt aside. Sugawara’s voice rumbled in his throat at the gorgeous sight of your bra, black and lacy. “Fuck,” he cupped your breasts, the lace dancing with his fingers. “You look so fucking pretty. Did you wear this just for me?” he leaned down, pecking the exposed portion of your pillowy breasts. 
“Maybe,” you purr, gasping as his hand slid around your back, fidgeting with the clasp. “D’ya want me to take it off, Koshui?”
“Please,” Sugawara moaned, loosening his tie to unbutton his shirt better. “I love it when you say my name, fuck.”
Your bra was tossed aside, your nipples instantly perking up at the cold air in your bedroom. Sugawara’s hands practically flew to your breasts, his shirt being tossed aside as well. His mouth found your pert nipple, sucking on one breast while his hand toyed with the other. He relished in your moans, but his brow furrowed when he heard you choking back the louder ones.
“Don’t be quiet with me, princess,” he growled, his tongue flattening across your breast. “I wanna hear those moans of yours.” he bit down on the supple flesh, sucking another perfect purple bruise on the delicate flesh.
You gasped and tossed your head back into the pillows behind you, letting out the guttural moans that Sugawara craved. He smirked against your breast, stopping his sucking with a wet pop!
“Good fucking girl, did you hear how pretty you sounded?” he purred, his thumbs in the loops of your jeans. “M’gonna take this off you, okay cutie?”
You nodded and sighed, shimmying your legs so he could throw your jeans behind him. He took in the gorgeous view, prying your legs apart. “Those are some pretty panties you have on,” he chuckled, nudging your clothed core with his knee. “What do you want me to do to you, baby? I wanna make you feel so fucking good. You deserve it. My girl,”
His girl. Those words rang through your ears, your pussy getting wetter. “J-just make me feel good, Koshi. Wan’ you so badly.” you looked into his eyes, your own filled with lust and desire for him.
He snickered. “Whatever my girl wants, she’ll get,” he pulled your panties down to your ankles, your goddess-like body now on display for him to admire. He took a thousand mental pictures of it, silently hoping you would stay like that forever. 
“You have such a pretty pussy. Look at her,” his fingers gathered some of your slick, bringing it to his lips. “She tastes so fucking good.” he shoved his face in between your legs, licking a fat stripe up your folds. You gasped at the sensation, your legs instantly squeezing his face upon reflex. 
“Fuck!” his tongue was somehow both cold and hot, eagerly lapping at your soaked folds. You clenched the bedsheets, your thighs securing his head between your thighs. He didn’t mind one bit, groaning into your core at every squeeze of your luscious thighs. He adored your taste; it was sweet and addictive. Sugawara couldn’t get enough of you. He needed more. He craved more. 
He ate your pussy like a starved man, acting like he hadn’t drunk in weeks, and you were an oasis in the desert. His nose brushed against your clit, the added stimulation ripping whimpers off your lips. His index and middle fingers slipped inside your soaked entrance, curling inside of you, searching for your sweet spot. You cried, bucking your hips into his face.
“That’s it, squirm around f’me, princess,” he demanded, his deep voice sending vibrations through your core. “Show me how good I can make you feel without even fucking you.” 
You hissed in pleasure, continuing to buck your hips into his face. Finally, his fingers curled inside you just right, acting as a catalyst. “M’gonna fucking cum, Koshi!” you sobbed, your release coating his fingers and lips. He pulled his fingers out of your pulsating core, replacing them with his tongue as he lapped at your release, the filthiest of sounds leaving his lips while his tongue fucked you through your high. Your thighs squeezed around his head, so tight and firm.
He reluctantly pulled away from your core, smiling while covered in your shimmering slick. Sugawara climbed atop you once more, slipping his covered fingers past your lips. “Can you taste yourself, princess? See how addictive you are?”
Your tongue rolled over his fingers with purpose. You knew what you were doing. “Mhm,” you let go of his fingers, licking your lips. Your chest moved up and down, still attempting to recover from that mind-blowing orgasm. “S’good, Koshi. You make me feel so good.”
“I’m about to make you feel even better, princess,” he got off the bed, unbuckling his belt to place on the vanity chair and his pants. There was a stain on his boxers, no doubt caused by his tip-gushing precum. The briefs were forgotten about as well. He stood before you just as naked as you were before him. 
Sugawara was toned, that’s for sure. All those years of playing volleyball had reaped their rewards, and he was fucking proud of it. He didn’t quite have the most defined six-pack, but his abs were prominent, accompanied by a silver happy trail. His biceps rippled along with his shoulder muscles; he was beautiful, and you both were. 
His cock slapped against his abdomen, glistening with precum. “Do you see what you do to me, princess? D’ya see how fucking hard I am?” he crawled above you, his hands caging your head in place. 
His cock wasn’t girthy, but it was long. Not so long that it would be painful, but long enough to make you see stars. It teased at your entrance, begging to push past your soaked folds. “Princess,” Sugawara kissed your cheek. “Do you want me to use a condom? I brought one just in case.” his voice was reassuring. Even though he wanted nothing more than to demolish your insides, he would do whatever made you happiest. Whatever brought you the most pleasure, whatever could turn your vision white.
“Condoms are in the dresser drawer,” you pointed to the table next to your bed. He lunged over you and rummaged through it, eventually rolling the foil packet between his fingers. He ripped open the packaging with his teeth, moving the latex over his cock with ease. He made sure it was secure, tugging at the base of the condom. 
“For what it’s worth, you would look so pretty covered in my cum,” Sugawara purred against your lips, teasing your entrance with his tip. “Are you ready, princess? How do you want me to fuck you?” he clenched the sheets beneath him with knuckle-whitening strength.
“H-however, you wanna fuck me s’fine, Koshi,” you assured him, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I just want you to fuck me, please.” 
Shit, you sounded so pretty when you begged for his cock. Sugawara mumbled something incoherent and pushed past your entrance, slowly filling you up until the head of his aching cock touched your cervix. He hissed at the sensation of your tight walls fluttering around him, trying to pull him impossibly deep.
“However I want, yeah?” Sugawara leaned down, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “Then I’m gonna fuck you like you’re mine.”
He snapped his hips against yours, each thrust more brutal than the last. He bottomed out each time, the head pressing against your cervix so deliciously. “All fucking mine,” he groaned into your neck, sending electrical pulses throughout your core. Your legs locked around his waist, not letting him escape. Not like he wanted to, he could fuck you forever. 
“Koshi! Oh, fuck, Koshi!” you sobbed, your hands clawing at his lean back. Your long, rainbow-colored nails left wild, catlike scratches that would likely be sore tomorrow. Sugawara fucking loved it. He loved how you reacted when he bullied his cock into your cunt, how it squeezed around it shamelessly. He fucking loved your pussy. Why did it take him so long to get the balls to ask you out? “Love y’dick Koshi, fucking love it!”
“I love you do, princess. You’re being such a good girl and fucking taking it.” his hands moved your pelvis, hovering it over the bed so he could better pound into you. This new angle somehow made you take him even deeper, his balls slapping against the cleft of your ass. “Your pussy feels even better than I could have imagined, fuck.” he moaned as your cunt fluttered around his cock, driving him closer to the edge. 
Suagwara’s punched forward over and over again, getting drunk off your sickly, sweet heat. He left an open-mouthed kiss on your neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin until you were covered with his teeth marks. He pistoned in and out of your weeping cunt with reckless abandon, whispering filth into your ear as he approached his release.
“Fuck, is my cock stretching you out, baby? You’ve been, oh my God, you’ve been whimpering all this time. Am I too much for you?” he teased, squeezing harshly on your breast. “Don’t worry, princess. I’m gonna give you what you need, I promise. Just lemme keep fucking this cunt, yeah?” he rasped against your neck, desperately chasing his high. His hips lost all sense of rhyme or reason, throwing sloppy and uncoordinated as his cock twitch deep inside of your core. 
“Fuck, I’m close. Y’feel so fucking good, baby, fuck. Got me addicted to this pretty pussy, shit.” he whimpered, setting a relentless pace. The sound of your sweat-covered bodies slapping against each other in unison filled your apartment, the atmosphere thick with the scent of sex. 
“Koshi! Feels so fucking good, need more,” you choked back tears, cupping his face to bring his lips to yours. Sugawara rasped against your lips, his kiss bruisingly passionate as he fucked you both through your lustful tremors. 
“Shit, I’m gonna fucking cum, fuck. That pussy’s milking me for all I’m worth, princess,” he tore himself away from your lips, his hips snapping once, then twice, then stopping their motions completely as he came. He moaned, his seed spilling into the condom. 
He pulled out of you, tying off the condom and tossing it onto the floor. “I’ll get that later,” Sugawara whispered before slumping onto your chest, burying his flushed face in your tits. You giggled and lazily kissed his forehead, treasuring this moment.
“I can confidently say that this has been the best first date I’ve ever been on,” you giggled, your thumb rubbing across Sugawara’s beauty mark. “I mean, I’ve only ever been on a couple of first dates, but this has been the best one by a long shot.”
“I’m so glad, princess,” he groaned, pulling his face from in between your breasts. “I’m so lucky you’re all mine. T-That is if you still want to be.” his brows furrowed.
You chuckled and brushed his hair to the side. “Of course I do, Koshi. I’ve had a crush on you for a while now, dummy.”
“I’m not a dummy. I’m a teacher!” he joked, a bright smile gracing his features. Sugawara’s expression then softened. “I’m so glad you’re mine. This feels like the best dream ever.” he lazily pecked your lips, pulling up your comforter to warmly envelop you. 
“Do you wanna just order food and lay here for a bit?” you mumbled, giggling as Sugawara repositioned your body so he was holding you.
“I would love that, princess,” his voice was soft and warm. “I can’t wait to go on more dates with you,” he pecked your cheek. “And I especially can’t wait to see my sexy new girlfriend at work wearing those cute little outfits.” his hands squeezed your breasts, causing you to yelp.
“Koshi!” you pretended to scold him.
“Sorry, princess, I couldn’t help it. You’re way too pretty.” he giggled, pulling you closer to his chest. You heard his heartbeat; its smooth rhythm instantly made you calm. The two of you lay there, cuddled under your covers as you talked the night away.
Art did have a way of bringing people together, after all.
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miguelhugger2099 · 4 months
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To be Known is to be Loved
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Summary: It’s so easy to forget the little things. But Miguel loves you so he remembers. A/N: I’m on writers block so please forgive me for the lack of fics. I hope some fluff with suffice. Art: nellwhre17 on instagram No warnings, Fluffy
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You hated being on your feet all day. Your soles were sore, your toes scrunched together in your shoes and you were pretty sure your laces were cutting off your circulation. You wanted nothing more than to take everything off and lie in bed.
So, once you opened the door to your home, tossing the keys to the couch, you crouched down to shove your shoes off. You were too impatient to slip off your shoelaces, settling for a fight of just ripping your shoes off your feet. Once the pair had flopped away from you, you wiggled your toes and sighed in relief.
“Mig?” You call out, searching for your boyfriend’s comfort after a long day. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot your fuzzy slippers right beside the couch where you had thrown your keys. It wouldn’t have been unusual since you often left your slippers by the door before you leave for work, but you were in a hurry today–Miguel must’ve moved them for you.
With a tired smile, you wobble over to them and slide them on. Its warm softness were heaven on your sore feet and you heard the pats of Miguel’s heavy footsteps. You look up to see Miguel give you a soft smile.
“Hi.” He whispers, a dry towel in hand. By the smell coming off of it, it seemed it was freshly washed and dried. He looks off to the side and sees your shoes discarded in opposite directions. He makes the move to collect the pair and set it on the shoe rack neatly. Miguel looks down at you on the floor and hands the towel to you. “I already showered so here.”
You take the towel with a bright grin. You were already feeling better.
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When you had woken up from your nap, you instinctively crawl out of bed to search for Miguel. You found him in the living room, TV volume as low as possible with all the lights turned off. You could never sleep if even the smallest of light peeked in your room. Miguel’s jaw moved and his mouth opened to pop something in his mouth and you realized he was snacking on something.
You take a step forward on the wooden floor and it creaks, signaling your appearance. Miguel raises his eyebrows and turns his head to face you. He relaxes.
“Finally up?” He asks. The TV continues to play a random novela–something from the 2000s based on the camera quality.
“Yeah,” You croak out, voice hoarse from the long nap you took. Miguel pats the seat next to him and urges you closer with his hand. You follow his command, plopping beside him and instantly, you two fall in place. His hand around you protectively and your body smushed to his side.
Your eyes glance at the snack in his hand and you realize it’s actually candy. A rectangular packet of Starbursts. You look back up at Miguel, your vision seeing his side profile and you speak up, “Can I have some?”
Miguel takes his arm up and off you. He then takes the packet and rips it open and reveals the different colored cubes of flavor. He carefully plucks out the pink ones—sweet strawberry flavor—and places it in your outstretched palm. Then, he places the red ones—cherry flavored— with the pinks ones.
You smile to yourself, already unwrapping the candy and chewing on the taffy. You watch as Miguel keeps the yellows away from you, instead taking it upon himself to eat those.
He didn’t understand your need to be picky about the flavor and color, but usually you’d want it so he’d give it to you no questions asked. No reminders either.
Miguel settled his arm around you again, gnawing on the taffy and plucking the pieces that got stuck on his teeth. You snuggled back up to him happily, while you ate the strawberry and cherry Starburst.
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If there was anything you shamelessly loved to do, it was kissing Miguel. He didn’t mind at all. Despite his introverted nature, he couldn’t help but smile with each extra kiss you’d give him. 
He was sure you never noticed this one thing about yourself. Maybe you did but he doesn’t think so. It was his favorite quirk of yours.
Sometimes, if he’s lucky, you’ll be so smitten when he initiates a kiss first that you’ll keep your eyes closed just to give him another chance to kiss you. A opportunity he's always willing to grab.
He liked pulling away and seeing you still, small smile playing on your lips and awaiting another smooch. And like a routine, he lifts your chin higher up and your lips quirk up higher. The tip of his thumb grazes your bottom lip and he leans down just enough to where your lips are brushing against each other. He watches your mouth twitch and your eyebrows scrunch when you could only barely feel him. Miguel finally leans down and kisses you again and he places a hand on your waist to feel you melt in his embrace. 
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