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astoryisaloveaffair · 5 months

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Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

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Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.

A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.

Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....

* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this

Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes

You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.

At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.

You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood.

Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.

A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.

“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.

He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”

You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.

He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.

You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.

You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.

You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.

It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.

You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye. The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..

You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees. The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane.

It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.

You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.

You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.

It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.

There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.

Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.

Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later.

You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.

Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.

Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead.

She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?”

Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”

She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them.

“I think that they killed him.”

Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks.

“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.”

You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…

You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide.

But she simply asks. “Who are you?”

You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now.

If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.

You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.

“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”

She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”

You blink. “What?”

Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”

“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”

“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her. “How could you?”

“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”

“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’

You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips.

A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.

The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.

A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life.

“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself.

“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”

“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes.

He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.

At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.

The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.

You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it.

And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to?

How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…

But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends.

And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence.

How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?

Why did you still want him?

Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.

Yea. You think you’d rather die.

You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-

Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.

Sometimes rope can give over time.

That’s why we always used zip ties.

You look down at your bound hands.

They’re bound with rope.

#fix you fic #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie catfish morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

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a-memory-a-distant-echo · 3 months

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it's time for the long-threatened post about how to get subtitles (including translated ones) for videos that don't have subtitles.

in my experience, the methods in this post can probably get you solidly 75% or more of the content of many videos (caveats inside). i've tested this on videos that are originally in chinese, english, french, german, hindi, japanese, korean, spanish, and honestly probably some languages that i'm forgetting. my experience is that it works adequately in all of them. not great, necessarily, but well enough that you can probably follow along.

this is a very long post because this is the overexplaining things website, and because i talk about several different ways to get the captions. this isn't actually difficult, though, or even especially time consuming—the worst of it is pushing a button and ignoring things for a while. actual hands-on work is probably five minutes tops, no matter how long the video is.

i've attempted to format this post understandably, and i hope it's useful to someone.

first up, some disclaimers.

this is just my experience with things, and your experience might be different. the tools used for (and available for) this kind of thing change all the time, and if you're reading this six months after i wrote it, your options might be different. this post is probably still a decent starting place.

background about my biases in this: i work in the creative industries. mostly i'm a fiction editor. i've also been a writer, a technical editor and writer, a transcriptionist, a copyeditor, and something i've seen called a 'translation facilitator' or 'rewrite editor', where something is translated fairly literally (by a person or a machine) and then a native speaker of the target language goes through and rewrites/restructures as needed to make the piece read more naturally in the target language. i've needed to get information out of business meetings that were conducted in a language i didn't speak, and have done a lot of work on things that were written in (or translated into) the writer's second or sixth language, but needed to be presented in natural english.

so to start, most importantly: machine translation is never going to be as good as a translation done by an actual human. human translators can reflect cultural context and nuanced meanings and the artistry of the work in a way that machines will never be able to emulate. that said, if machine translation is your only option, it's better than nothing. i also find it really useful for videos in languages where i have enough knowledge that i'm like, 75% sure that i'm mostly following, and just want something that i can glance at to confirm that.

creating subs like this relies heavily on voice-to-text, which—unfortunately—works a lot better in some situations than it does in others. you'll get the best, cleanest results from videos that have slow, clear speech in a 'neutral' accent, and only one person speaking at a time. (most scripted programs fall into this category, as do many vlogs and single-person interviews.) the results will get worse as voices speed up, overlap more, and vary in volume. that said, i've used this to get captions for cast concerts, reality shows, and variety shows, and the results are imperfect but solidly readable, especially if you have an idea of what's happening in the plot and/or can follow along even a little in the broadcast language.

this also works best when most of the video is in a single language, and you select that language first. the auto detect option sometimes works totally fine, but in my experience there's a nonzero chance that it'll at least occasionally start 'detecting' random other languages in correctly, or someone will say a few words in spanish or whatever, but the automatic detection engine will keep trying to translate from spanish for another three minutes, even tho everything's actually in korean. if there's any way to do so, select the primary language, even if it means that you miss a couple sentences that are in a different language.

two places where these techniques don't work, or don't work without a lot of manual effort on your part: translating words that appear on the screen (introductions, captions, little textual asides, etc), and music. if you're incredibly dedicated, you can do this and add it manually yourself, but honestly, i'm not usually this dedicated. getting captions for the words on the screen will involve either actually editing the video or adding manually translated content to the subs, which is annoying, and lyrics are...complicated. it's possible, and i'm happy to talk about it in another post if anyone is interested, but for the sake of this post, let's call it out of scope, ok? ok. bring up the lyrics on your phone and call it good enough.

places where these techniques are not great: names. it's bad with names. names are going to be mangled. resign yourself to it now. also, in languages that don't have strongly gendered speech, you're going to learn some real fun stuff about the way that the algorithms gender things. (spoiler: not actually fun.) bengali, chinese, and turkish are at least moderately well supported for voice-to-text, but you will get weird pronouns about it.

obligatory caveat about ai and voice-to-text functionality. as far as i'm aware, basically every voice-to-text function is ~ai powered~. i, a person who has spent twenty years working in the creative industries, have a lot of hate for generative ai, and i'm sure that many of you do, too. however, if voice-to-text (or machine translation software) that doesn't rely on it exists anymore, i'm not aware of it.

what we're doing here is the same as what douyin/tiktok/your phone's voice-to-text does, using the same sorts of technology. i mention this because if you look at the tools mentioned in this post, at least some of them will be like 'our great ai stuff lets you transcribe things accurately', and i want you to know why. chat gpt (etc) are basically glorified predictive text, right? so for questions, they're fucking useless, but for things like machine transcription and machine translation, those predictions make it more likely that you get the correct words for things that could have multiple translations, or for words that the software can only partially make out. it's what enables 'he has muscles' vs 'he has mussels', even though muscles and mussels are generally pronounced the same way. i am old enough to have used voice to text back when it was called dictation software, and must grudgingly admit that this is, in fact, much better.

ok! disclaimers over.

let's talk about getting videos

for the most part, this post will assume that you have a video file and nothing else. cobalt.tools is the easiest way i'm aware of to download videos from most sources, though there are other (more robust) options if you're happy to do it from the command line. i assume most people are not, and if you are, you probably don't need this guide anyhow.

i'm going to use 'youtube' as the default 'get a video from' place, but generally speaking, most of this works with basically any source that you can figure out how to download from—your bilibili downloads and torrents and whatever else will work the same way. i'm shorthanding things because this post is already so so long.

if the video you're using has any official (not autogenerated) subtitles that aren't burned in, grab that file, too, regardless of the language. starting from something that a human eye has looked over at some point is always going to give you better results. cobalt.tools doesn't pull subtitles, but plugging the video url into downsub or getsubs and then downloading the srt option is an easy way to get them for most places. (if you use downsub, it'll suggest that you download the full video with subtitles. that's a link to some other software, and i've never used it, so i'm not recommending it one way or the other. the srts are legit, tho.)

the subtitle downloaders also have auto translation options, and they're often (not always) no worse than anything else that we're going to do here—try them and see if they're good enough for your purposes. unfortunately, this only works for things that already have subtitles, which is…not that many things, honestly. so let's move on.

force-translating, lowest stress mode.

this first option is kind of a cheat, but who cares. youtube will auto-caption things in some languages (not you, chinese) assuming that the uploader has enabled it. as ever, the quality is kinda variable, and the likelihood that it's enabled at all seems to vary widely, but if it is, you're in for a much easier time of things, because you turn it on, select whatever language you want it translated to, and youtube…does its best, anyhow.

if you're a weird media hoarder like me and you want to download the autogenerated captions, the best tool that i've found for this is hyprscribr. plug in the video url, select 'download captions via caption grabber', then go to the .srt data tab, copy it out, and paste it into a text file. save this as [name of downloaded video].[language code].srt, and now you have captions! …that you need to translate, which is actually easy. if it's a short video, just grab the text, throw it in google translate (timestamps and all), and then paste the output into a new text file. so if you downloaded cooking.mp4, which is in french, you'll have three files: cooking.mp4, cooking.fr.srt, and cooking.en.srt. this one's done! it's easy! you're free!

but yeah, ok, most stuff isn't quite that easy, and auto-captioning has to be enabled, and it has some very obvious gaps in the langauges it supports. which is sort of weird, because my phone actually has pretty great multilingual support, even for things that youtube does not. which brings us to low-stress force translation option two.

use your phone

this seems a little obvious, but i've surprised several people with this information recently, so just in case. for this option, you don't even need to have downloaded the video—if it's a video you can play on your phone, the phone will almost definitely attempt real-time translation for you. i'm sure iphones have this ability, but i'm an android person, so can only provide directions for that: go into settings and search for (and enable) live translation. the phone will do its best to pick up what's being said and translate it on the fly for you, and if 'what's being said' is a random video on the internet, your phone isn't gonna ask questions. somewhat inexplicably, this works even if the video is muted. i do this a lot at like four a.m. when i'm too lazy to grab earbuds but don't want to wake up my wife.

this is the single least efficient way to force sub/translate things, in my opinion, but it's fast and easy, and really useful for those videos that are like a minute long and probably not that interesting, but like…what if it is, you know? sometimes i'll do this to decide if i'm going to bother more complicated ways of translating things.

similarly—and i feel silly even mentioning this, but that i didn't think of it for an embarrassingly long time—if you're watching something on a device with speakers, you can try just…opening the 'translate' app on your phone. they all accept voice input. like before, it'll translate whatever it picks up.

neither of these methods are especially useful for longer videos, and in my experience, the phone-translation option generally gives the least accurate translation, because in attempting to do things in real time, you lose some of the predicative ability that i was talking about earlier. (filling in the blank for 'he has [muscles/mussels]' is a lot harder if you don't know if the next sentence is about the gym or about dinner.)

one more lazy way

this is more work than the last few options, but often gives better results. with not much effort, you can feed a video playing on your computer directly into google translate. there's a youtube video by yosef k that explains it very quickly and clearly. this will probably give you better translation output than any of the on-the-fly phone things described above, but it won't give you something that you can use as actual subs—it just produces text output that you can read while you watch the video. again, though, really useful for things that you're not totally convinced you care about, or for things where there aren't a lot of visuals, or for stuff where you don't care about keeping your eyes glued to the screen.

but probably you want to watch stuff on the screen at the same time.

let's talk about capcut!

this is probably not a new one for most people, but using it like this is a little weird, so here we go. ahead of time: i'm doing this on an actual computer. i think you probably can do it on your phone, but i have no idea how, and honestly this is already a really long guide so i'm not going to figure it out right now. download capcut and put it on an actual computer. i'm sorry.

anyhow. open up capcut, click new project. import the file that you downloaded, and then drag it down to the editing area. go over to captions, auto captions, and select the spoken language. if you want bilingual captions, pick the language for that, as well, and the captions will be auto-translated into whatever the second language you choose is. (more notes on this later.)

if i remember right, this is the point at which you get told that you can't caption a video that's more than an hour long. however. you have video editing software, and it is open. split the video in two pieces and caption them separately. problem solved.

now the complicated part: saving these subs. (don't panic; it's not actually that complicated.) as everyone is probably aware, exporting captions is a premium feature, and i dunno about the rest of you, but i'm unemployed, so let's assume that's not gonna happen.

the good news is that since you've generated the captions, they're already saved to your computer, they're just kinda secret right now. there are a couple ways to dig them out, but the easiest i'm aware of is the biyaoyun srt generator. you'll have to select the draft file of your project, which is auto-saved once a minute or something. the website tells you where the file is saved by default on your computer. (i realised after writing this entire post that they also have a step-by-step tutorial on how to generate the subtitles, with pictures, so if you're feeling lost, you can check that out here.)

select the project file titled 'draft_content', then click generate. you want the file name to be the same as the video name, and again, i'd suggest srt format, because it seems to be more broadly compatible with media players. click 'save to local' and you now have a subtitle file!

translating your subtitles

you probably still need to translate the subtitles. there are plenty of auto-translation options out there. many of them are fee- or subscription-based, or allow a very limited number of characters, or are like 'we provide amazing free translations' and then in the fine print it says that they provide these translations through the magic of uhhhh google translate. so we're just going to skip to google translate, which has the bonus of being widely available and free.

for shorter video, or one that doesn't have a ton of spoken stuff, you can just copy/paste the contents of the .srt file into the translation software of your choice. the web version of google translate will do 5000 characters in one go, as will systran. that's the most generous allocation that i'm aware of, and will usually get you a couple minutes of video.

the timestamps eat up a ton of characters, though, so for anything longer than a couple minutes, it's easier to upload the whole thing, and google translate is the best for that, because it is, to my knowledge, the only service that allows you to do it. to upload the whole file, you need a .doc or .rtf file.

an .srt file is basically just a text file, so you can just open it in word (or gdocs or whatever), save it as a .doc, and then feed it through google translate. download the output, open it, and save it as an .srt.

you're done! you now have your video and a subtitle file in the language of your choice.

time for vibe, the last option in this post.

vibe is a transcription app (not a sex thing, even tho it sounds like one), and it will also auto-translate the transcribed words to english, if you want.

open vibe and select your file, then select the language. if you want it translated to english, hit advanced and toggle 'translate to english'. click translate and wait a while. after a few minutes (or longer, depending on how long the file is), you'll get the text. the save icon is a folder with a down arrow on it, and i understand why people are moving away from tiny floppy disks, but also: i hate it. anyhow, save the output, and now you have your subs file, which you can translate or edit or whatever, as desired.

vibe and capcom sometimes get very different results. vibe seems to be a little bit better at picking up overlapping speech, or speech when there are other noises happening; capcom seems to be better at getting all the worlds in a sentence. i feel like capcom maybe has a slightly better translation engine, of the two of them, but i usually end up just doing the translation separately. again, it can be worth trying both ways and seeing which gives better results.

special notes about dual/bilingual subs

first: i know that bilingual subs are controversial. if you think they're bad, you don't have to use them! just skip this section.

as with everything else, automatically generating gives mixed results. sometimes the translations are great, and sometimes they're not. i like having dual subs, but for stuff that Matters To Me, for whatever reason, i'll usually generate both just the original and a bilingual version, and then try some other translation methods on the original or parts thereof to see what works best.

not everything displays bilingual subs very well. plex and windows media player both work great, vlc and the default video handler on ubuntu only display whatever the first language is, etc. i'm guessing that if you want dual subbed stuff you already have a system for it.

i'll also point out that if you want dual subs and have gone a route other than capcom, you can create dual subs by pasting the translated version and the untranslated version into a single file. leave the timestamps as they are, delete the line numbers if there are any (sometimes they seem to cause problems when you have dual subs, and i haven't figured out why) and then literally just paste the whole sub file for the first language into a new file. then paste in the whole sub file for the second language. yes, as a single chunk, the whole thing, right under the first language's subs. save the file as [video name].[zh-en].srt (or whatever), and use it like any other sub file.

notes on translation, especially since we're talking about lengthy machine-translations of things.

i default to translation options that allow for translating in large chunks, mostly because i'm lazy. but since an .srt is, again, literally just a text file, they're easy to edit, and if you feel like some of the lines are weird or questionable or whatever, it's easy to change them if you can find a better translation.

so: some fast notes on machine translation options, because i don't know how much time most people spend thinking about this kind of stuff.

one sort of interesting thing to check out is the bing translator. it'll only do 1000 characters at once, but offers the rather interesting option of picking a level of formality. i can't always get it to work, mind, but it's useful especially for times when you're like 'this one line sounds weird'—sometimes the difference between what the translator feels is standard vs formal vs casual english will make a big difference.

very fast illustration of the difference in translations. the random video that i used to make sure i didn't miss any steps explaining things starts with '所以你第二季来'. here's how it got translated:

google: So you come to season 2

google's top alternative: So you come in the second season

bing's standard tone: So here you come for the second season

bing set to casual: So you're coming for the second season, huh?

reverso default guess: So you come in season two

reverso alternate guess: You'll be participating in season two

capcom: So you come in season two

yandex: So you come in the second season

systran: That's why you come in season two

deepl: That's why you're here in season two

vibe: So your second season is here

technically all conveying the same information, but the vibes are very different. sometimes one translator or another will give you a clearly superior translation, so if you feel like the results you're getting are kinda crap, try running a handful of lines through another option and see if it's better.

ok! this was an incredibly long post, and i've almost definitely explained something poorly. again, there are almost certainly better ways to do this, but these ways are free and mostly effective, and they work most of the time, and are better than nothing.

feel free to ask questions and i'll answer as best i can. (the answer to any questions about macs or iphones is 'i'm so sorry, i have no idea tho.' please do not ask those questions.)

#i'm so excited to find out what i totally failed to explain because i'm sure there's something #subtitles #i really do want to reiterate that this is VERY FAR from a perfect system #but it's better than nothing #i assume that we all dream of having at least fluent comprehension of basically every language #but here in the real world...#y'know.#echoes linger

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elletheactualmenace · 1 year

Text

You Would do That for Me?

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!fem!reader

Summary: You hit two birds with one stone. Helping both you and Peter out in the process. Seems like a good plan, right?

Warnings: Verbal assault, Little but some physical assault, Catcalling, Bullying, annoying people just in general, swearing

Word Count: 5.04k

a/n: I tried to make this as enjoyable as I could, but some of this sucks, I tried really hard to get it to what I liked, but only some parts got there. Im hoping I’ll like the next part better. Sorry for the wait, but thanks for waiting! Also my Spanish is rusty lmk if it’s wrong.

Thoughts = “Italicized dialogue”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

High school. Not the most appealing place for anyone, especially not if you are the one having to attend. You don't think there has ever been one person, that doesn't come from some high school musical bullshit world, that enjoys going to high school.

You are top of your class, and you'd think that would make it easier but that's far from the truth, specifically when you go to a school where everyone is supposed to be top of the class, or they were from the schools they had formerly attended. Smart people don't like being topped. So it isn't really personal when you get cussed out or get verbally bullied. At least you don't take it personally, not enough for people other than the ones who do it to know about it.

Today is the start of another exhausting day of school. Before you open the door to your room you once over your outfit, and mentally prepare yourself for everything that is to come. You let out a puff of air and begrudgingly walk down the hall and into the big elevator at the end of the hall.

"At least I don't have to walk down stairs," you mentally thank your father for being lazy, as you push the 'floor level' button.

"Good morning Y/n." Friday says as you walk into the kitchen.

You mumble out a 'morning' and walk over to the pantry. You pull out a box of Honey Nut Cheerios. Then you get a bowl and a spoon, placing them on the counter next to the box of cereal.

"Hey kiddo," You hear your dads voice from behind you. You smile, turning to see him leaning against the fridge with a carton of milk in one of his hands. You chuckle, and walk up to him giving him a hug. He kisses your head while hugging you

with just as much love.

"Hi dad." You say as he hands you the milk. Your dad gives you a look as he watches you tiredly get your breakfast.

"What?" You struggle to speak with a spoon full of food in your mouth.

When he doesn't say anything you ask again. "Dad, what is it?"

"Nothing, you just eat exactly like me." He chuckles out. And you scrunch your brows.

"Well how the hell else would I eat?" You ask. He gives you a pointed look, "I'm not going to quote any ancient museum piece but watch your mouth young lady." You put your hands up in apology.

“But It’s not even that bad of a word. S’not like you don’t say it.” You grumble slightly before stuffing another spoonful of Cheerios into your mouth.

“Although, that does sound like some old man I know, maybe I will let him know that you are finally starting to listen.” You give him a toothy grin and he shakes his head frantically.

“Don’t, please. I don’t want him to know he's rubbing off on me.” Your dad rambles out grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. You chuckle.

You both talk a while longer as you eat your cereal.

“How’s school? Any drama I need to know about?” You roll your eyes at him.

“No, sadly, unless you consider Peter losing one of Ned's lego pieces and not talking to him for a whole four hours,” Your dad chuckles.

“I would say that's a decent amount of drama for those two,” You dad comments, and you continue your pass time chatter.

"Oh, also, sweetie, Happy is driving you to school today," You dad says as you finish up your cereal.

"But,” you start, “dad, you said you would." Your disappointed look doesn't go unnoticed even though you try to not let it show.

"I know sweetie, but I can't today, I will try to find some time this week or next to drive you, okay honey? I'm sorry." He gives you a look of pity. And he really does want to drive you, he just can’t.

You can’t figure out why it bothers you so much. It’s just a ride to school. Maybe it’s because you barely ever see him. Maybe it’s because lately he has been more occupied with work than with his own daughter.

It bothers you that it bothers you. You shouldn’t be mad at him for working, for being a hero. You should get mad because you know it's not like he wants to blow you off.

"Yeah, um, ok," you put on a tight smile as you walk over to a counter stool that you backpack is sitting on, and sling it over one of your shoulders.

"Friday," Your dad calls out, and she immediately responds,

"Yes sir?"

"Call down Happy, and let him know, Y/n is ready to head out." Your dad finishes as he walks toward the hall leading to his office. He waves you a goodbye and you give a small smile in response.

Not even a couple minutes later Happy walks in, car keys in hand. "Come on kid, let get you to school," You nod and follow him outside.

The walk to the car is quiet. And Happy is not complaining with your ‘too tired to talk attitude’. He's not one for much unnecessary conversation. That's not to say he doesn't care for what you have to say, he just likes moments of quiet. Especially during the shitty morning.

"Hey, Happy?" You ask once he starts the car. He looks up at you through the rear view mirror letting you know he's listening.

"What did my dad have to get to?" You hear Happy sigh but don't say anything.

"Listen, your dad, he's a busy man, so it could really be anything." Happy informs you with a small sad smile, trying to make you feel better. You just nod looking down at your hands, so you don't have to look at another person trying to give you pity.

——

You slam your locker shut and turn to see Ned and Peter at their lockers that are a few away from yours. You nudge MJ and she closes her locker slightly to look at you.

"Yeah?" She asks and you nod towards the rest of your friend group. Mj doesn’t like that you called yourself that but she doesn’t have a better solution so she lets it slide.

"I'm going to go talk to them, meet up later?" You ask and she nods before bidding you goodbye.

"No, no, no, Peter, listen to me, I know it isn't a scam, because my cousins, best friends, little brother also ordered from the website and it came." Ned argues with who you are assuming is Peter.

"I don't think that's a credible source, dude. Have you even met your cousins, aunts, friends, brother?" Peter asks skeptically.

"It was my cousins, best friends, little brother." Ned grumbled out with an eye roll.

“The fact that you have to correct him just proves the point more.” You state bluntly entering the very stupid, conversation.

“See exactly!” Peter exclamins in your dereliction. Ned mumbles something out but you don’t quite catch it, Peter does though and his face goes pink and he hits Ned's arm.

“My, point proven,” Ned says quietly. And you brush it off assuming it's an inside joke. The bell rings and catches your attention.

“Okay come on you five year olds, let's stop arguing about credible sources, and whose brother said what.” You put your hands on both of their backs and push them toward your shared first period classroom.

When you walk in and find your seat. MJ is already sitting, in the seat right next to yours. And behind you Peter and Ned sit down. When the final bell rings everyone is sat down and ready for a long boring lecture.

The teacher passes out assignments and you all finish the assignment pretty quick, so, per usual, you sit around talking, or more, arguing.

“We need to agree on something and stop arguing.” MJ says calmly. You are all arguing about the movie you’re all going to watch at your house on Friday night. When someone proposes a movie, someone else always doesn't like it.

“I'm sorry MJ, but I will not watch Titanic, I can’t.” You deadpan, arms crossed over one another.

“Oh, come on Y/n! It's not that bad!” Ned tries but you shake your head with a look of utter disgust.

“It is that bad, I physically can’t watch it. I know it’s iconic or whatever, but I won’t let that movie play at my house. It’s not going to happen.” You slam your fist on Peter and Neds shared desk.

“What about Shutter Island?” Peter suggests. Looking at you for approval and you shrug. “I'm good with that.” You say.

“What's with all the DiCaprio movies?” MJ asks. And Ned groans, running his hands down his face. “So that's a no?” Ned says more of a statement than a question.

“I never said no,” She tries but you put your hand out to stop her. “You didn’t have to, it's a no.” You say tiredly.

“We have zero chance at agreeing on a movie by Friday.” Peter says resting his face in his arms that are arms crossed across the table.

“You know what else it is at zero?” Flash asks as walking past us to get to his seat after turning in the assignment.

Before you can tell him to piss off he continues. “Penis Parker’s girl game. You have Zero chance of ever getting any girl, even if they are the ugliest thing anyone has ever laid eyes on.” Flash’s friends snicker at his words and he laughs loud at his own joke. As he walks past other kids in the class he gets fist bumps.

You look at him unamused. And when you see the sad embarrassed look on Peter's face you want to respond to Flash by cussing him out, but MJ gets to him before you do.

“We get it Flash, you’re taking your insecurities out on Peter, because we all know your ‘girl game’ is peaking in high school.” MJ retorts glaring at Flash. She says girl game like it’s the stupidest terminology to use, because it is.

“His girl game is just going to keep getting better after we graduate from this high school shit hole” You add huffing out in annoyance.

Flash looks around trying to get people to stand up for him. But no one does. They all just look away or at whatever they were before.

“Whatever,” You see Flash shrink in his chair as he quietly speaks. You glance over at Peter, he gives you a small smile.

“Thanks,” he whispers. You nod smiling at him.

The rest of class he’s quiet, and you can’t help thinking that this sort of thing happens a lot. You wish you could help him more, or that you could prevent it from happening. You sigh and stand when the bell rings, the subject still on your mind.

——

“I don’t know, MJ,” You start while unlocking your locker. “I like the idea of a horror movie, but I don’t know if the boys could take it.” She shrugs,

"Well we should just make them deal with it.” You hum in consideration, “I mean come on, think about how many times Ned has made us watch Star Wars?”

You nod in agreement. She does have a point. You can’t count on one hand how many times you’ve had to sit through one of the Star Wars movies.

“Alright, fine.” You huff out, “But you’re telling them.” You poke her shoulder with your finger when you say it.

“Deal,” She takes your hand into hers and shakes it. You chuckle, shaking back.

You and MJ start heading out the front doors of the building. You spot Ned and Peter, and wave to them. Ned waves and Peter smiles.

You and MJ part ways as she heads to the subway station, and you head over to a bodega to get some food while you wait for Happy.

You cross the street walking along the white strips of color on the paved road. You pull out your phone when you get to the other side of the cross walk, to see if Happy texted you yet.

Happy:)

I’ll be there in ten.

Happy:)

Where do you want me to pick you up?

Y/n Stark

The bodega, want anything?

Happy:)

I'm good.

Y/n Stark

Cheetos it is! See you in a bit 🫡

You turn off your phone and put it in your pocket, stepping into the bodega. The man behind the counter's head shoots up when he hears the bell on the door ring.

“Hola, pequeño Sparky,” The man says.

“Hola, Sr. López,” You grin and wave. When you first met, Sr. López, he told you that you look like Tony Stark's daughter. But he said spark not Stark, it stuck. You never correct him, and you never tell him you are actually Tony Stark's daughter, because you enjoy the name just as much as he does.

“Can I get a bacon egg and cheese?” You ask and he smiles big.

“Ah of course, and cheetos for Sr. gruñón?” You nod and smile. “You know it, Sr. López”

You walk over to the shelf of chips and grab the bag of cheetos. When your order is done you pay and head outside, waving Sr. Lòpez goodbye.

“Que tenga una buena tarde, Sr. López.” You say stepping out of the bodega.

When you walk out you almost trip. You look down and notice your untied shoelace. You probably unintentionally stepped on it again. When you bend over to tie it you hear something.

More like someone. Or multiple people. You hear someone whistle, and you stand and turn around abruptly.

And that’s when you see them. The three little pieces of shit that always bother you. They are always somehow there just when you don’t want them to be. Not that you ever did want them there. They are the weirdo dickheads who never leave you alone. Somehow they always pop up out of nowhere.

The blond short kid named Derek, whistles again. Logan the tallest one begins walking over to you. The other two follow.

You quickly begin walking past them. And you get half a block before Otis the jet black haired guy grabs you by the arm and pulls you into a small alley. Derek and Logan gather around you whistling laughing. You struggle in Otis’s grip, you’re sure it will leave a big bruise.

“What the hell do you want?” You spit out and Logan tuts shaking his head.

“Well look at you,” He breathes out as you get out of Otis’s tight hold. “How is a pretty thing like you still so available?”

Derek chuckles and pushes your body against the brick alley wall with his hands.

“I have no clue, but if you want to, baby, I'm open to anything” Derek growls out, and your face turns into disgust.

“Don’t make that face, it makes you look ugly.” Otis says with a scowl.

“I have to go.” You say quietly looking down to stop your shaky breathing.

“What was that hon’?” Logan asks, leaning his face close to yours. “Couldn’t quite hear you.” You know full well he can hear you, he's just being a dick.

You snap your head up with an angry expression, glaring daggers at the boys. “I have to go.” You state firmly. You watch as their faces turn into smiles, and they begin to laugh at you.

Then you hear a ding from your pocket. Surprisingly they let you grab your phone. You wonder why until Derek snatches the phone from your hands. You try to reach for it but Otis pushes you back against the wall.

“Give it to me,” You shout. They ignore you and look at the text. “Seems like she does have to go, boys,” Logan says, tossing your phone back with an annoyed look.

“It's a shame, I would have liked to tease you more.” Otis’s comment makes you mad. You look down at your lock screen to see a text from Happy.

Happy:)

I'm here, where are you?

The boys move to make way for you. And as you walk past them you trip over Dereks, purposefully, outstretched foot. You stumble and don’t bother to look back, so you don’t have to see them cackling at you.

You quickly scurry out of the alley and towards Sr. López’s bodega. You see Happy in a black car across the street, he sees you and waves. Nodding back you cross the street.

You open the car door and slip in. You pull the Cheetos out from your bag and reach over the divider to hand them to him. He thanks you and pulls out from the parking spot.

“Where were you?” He asks, chewing on a cheeto. You shrug, rubbing your bruised arm. “Uhh, I was just walking around waiting for you.” Its a good enough lie to get him to drop the subject. The car ride from that point on is silent, uncharacteristic for you, but Happy doesn't comment as he continues driving and you eat your bacon egg and cheese.

——

You hate it.

Feeling helpless.

How could you not when you were raised by the Iron Man, and grew up around superheros, and just strong people. So, it makes your blood boil when you think about the way you let them treat you. You know how to speak up for others, but for some stupid reason your own brain is too scared to be able to defend you.

What makes you doubly angry when you walk into your house, is thinking about the way Flash and the other kids at your school treat Peter. “What makes them think they are so much better? They don’t even compare to Peter,” you think. Peter is smart and sweet and has the kindest soul of anyone you have ever come across, so it pisses you off how shitty people can be. If only you could fix both problems.

“What’s got you so grumpy?” Pepper asks as you walk past her to your room. Her voice breaks your train of thought.

“Everything,” You grumble out. Pepper hums in understanding. Pepper, although she's not biologically you family, you consider her your mother. She's always there for you and she watched and helped you grow into the person you are.

“Anything I can help you with?”

“Not really. Unless you can magically make people stop being jerks.” She chuckles as your shoulders slouch.

“Well, when I'm dealing with Jerks, I tell them to stop or I’ll fire them. I usually try to hit two birds with one stone to get them out of my life faster. So fire the problem not just one person.” Pepper says, trying to help. You nod. And you catch the end of a conversation when your dad and Clint walk in.

“So, no, there will be no boyfriends or girlfriends for Y/n for a long time.” Clint chuckles at your dad.

Your brows scrunch before your head shoots up and your face breaks into a grin. Pepper who was watching you smiles, confused.

“You are a genius, dad!” You shout as you rush over to him to kiss him on the check.

“I know,” Your dad looks surprised when he says it, but smiles anyway.

“Thanks uncle Clint,” You hug Clint quickly and he tries to hug back but you pull away before he can.

Then you run back to your mom, wrapping her in a hug, before she can say anything, or pat you back, you run off.

“Thanks mom, got to go!” You yell back to her as you rush into your bedroom.

“What was that about?” Clint asks Pepper, and she shrugs.

“I say let’s be happy, she's happy.” Tony says as he continues to walk to his lab.

When you shut the door you throw your backpack on your bed. You begin pacing back and forth in thought.

“Peter needs a girlfriend. And I need someone who can keep those assholes away from me.” You drop the pacing for tapping your foot and rubbing your chin. Your face scrunches trying to think of a solution.

“It can’t possibly be this hard to come up with something… who’s a girl who’s single, and likes Peter, or can at least tolerate pretending to like him? Who’s someone who I can have, help me?”

Your tapping gets faster as your brain works harder. “How the hell can’t I think of anything? I’m the daughter of fucking Tony Stark for goodness sake. There has to be someone-“ You cut your thoughts off and your eyes go wide at your realization.

“No.” You think shaking You head. “That wouldn’t be acceptable. We’re friends not- not…that.”

“Oh shit.” You say aloud this time. “It’s the only solution that isn’t 100% insane.” You breath out a shaky sigh. “I have to ask Peter Parker to be my boyfriend.”

——

“This is 100% insane.” You think, gripping the pole in the rocking subway cart. “I know it’s insane, he’s gonna think it’s insane.”

You got Happy to let you head over to Peters to work on ‘a project’. You do have your homework with you, but you can’t focus on anything other than the crazy conclusion you have come to. So, no homework could get done without talking to Peter.

The subway cart is pretty full, because it just hit rush hour and there’s a woman who’s standing a little close to you. You step a couple inches towards the bar.

You keep going over what you are going to say to Peter in your head. You can’t come up with a coherent sentence that doesn’t sound like you are just flat out asking him out. Well you are doing that, “but- no- not in that way” You keep telling yourself. You just have to explain the situation to him, and he’ll understand. Right?

You also have to consider the fact that no one out of school can know about it. If your dad knew you were dating someone, you think he might just kill them. You heard what he said to Clint. But what he doesn't know can’t hurt him, at least while he doesn't know. You know what the consequences are if he finds out, but you are willing to do it, for you and for Peter.

The train car pulls to a stop, and the doors open. You hear the automated voice ring through the train station as you set out of the train car. Piles of people rush in and out of the train. You dodge the hoards by swerving and slipping past them, out of habit. Living in New York, it's impulses to walk around slow people.

You climb the steps of the train station and out into the chilly air of Queens. You wrap your arms around your body, regretting the decision to ditch the jacket.

It takes a couple minutes to get to Peter and May's apartment, but once you travel up the elevator and your hand is inches from the door, all your previous courage drains from your body. You blink harshly to shake away the fear. Your heart is pounding and you can’t breathe properly.

“Just do it already, what are you scared of? its Peter,” You know there is lots to be scared of but you won’t let your mind drift that way.

You lift your hand to knock on the door, but it’s pulled open before you can make contact with the metal handle. You step back startled.

“Oh god, so sorry.” The woman in front of you says with a sigh. Your heart rate begins to slow when you hear her voice.

“No worries, Miss Parker.” You chuckle. She laughs out at your words.

“Oh please, I'm not that old Y/n, just call me May, like everyone else.” She smiles politely at you.

“I'm not everyone else.” You smile back. She shakes her head with a grin. “No you are not,”

“Well, I have to go pick something up from the store, help yourself,” she gestures inside, “Peters in his room, most likely building a lego set.” She pauses, “Or looking up ones he wants.”

You laugh and nod, waving goodbye and walking in. You take your shoes off and shut the door. You’re kind of glad May forgot to ask what you are doing here, that makes this easier at least.

You huff out looking out at the tiddy cozy apartment. You have always loved it here. It is so homey and welcoming, and it always makes you feel a little more at ease. And now is no exception.

You slip off your shoes and as you walk by the coach you put your bag down to rest.

“Peter?” You ask as you walk closer to Peter's ajar door. You see the back of his head turned down, looking at some papers on his desk. You can see the white wire of his head phones sticking out from under his chocolate brown hair.

You push the door slightly and slip through. You walk closer to him, trying to keep your heart from picking up its fast pace again. You call out to him again, and this time place a hand on his shoulder.

Peter jumps up out of his chair, trying to look intimidating in a fighting pose. But the intimidation doesn't last long because he slips on a sweatshirt on the ground and falls.

You erupt into a fit of laughter. Peters just looks startled, but when his brain finally acknowledges the situation, his eyes go wide in relief. When he gets up and you are still laughing, struggling to breathe, his cheeks go pink in embarrassment.

“It's not that funny,” he mumbles out. This only gets you laughing again. He tries to hide his smile by stuffing his face in his hands.

“Ok, ok, sorry.” You chuckle trying to slow your breathing and calm down.

“You just jumped so high and then slipped on nothing.” You say rubbing your face with a grin.

“It wasn’t nothing.” He says kicking the sweatshirt on the ground further away from him and then walks to the door.

“Mhh,” you hum in amusement following behind him.

“What are you doing here anyway?” He asks as he leads you to sit in the living room with him.

“Well,” You sigh, still a little breathless from laughing. You pause, try to create a coherent sentence that won’t make Peter run and hide. You sit in the meantime and Peter sits down next to you.

“I need to talk to you.” Your face gets more serious and it worries him. “Why? Did something happen?” He asks as his brows furrow in concern.

“No, no, no, nothing happened. Or, no. More like I want to stop something from happening again.” You realize the sentence makes the situation sound different then what it is.

“Did I do something?” Peter asks his brows furrowing further.

“No. No never. It’s just,” you trail off, and before you can pull yourself together to spit it out he cuts you off.

“Did someone else do something? Can I help?” Peter's head tilts and his lips form a frown listening attentively.

“No,” you stutter out. “Just listen to me for a second Pete.” He nods with a quick apology. Then his full attention is on you. His eyes unwavering staring into yours. Suddenly you can’t breathe, but you try to speak either way.

“You know how you get-“ you pause to rephrase. “How Flash is a dick towards you?” Peter nods slowly waiting for you to continue. You hadn’t told him about the guys bothering you, and want to keep it that way.

“And how, today he made fun of you for not having a girlfriend?” Peter nods, getting wary.

“Well, I mean-“ you stutter over your words “if you want, and feel, you know, comfortable or whatever,” you swallow the lump in your throat. He nods again, smiling softly to try and ease the tension in your shoulders and urging you on. You squeeze your eyes shut and blurt it out.

“I could pretend to be your girlfriend at school and stuff,”

When you peak an eye open, you see Peter's shoulders slumped and his eyes wide. In utter disbelief.

“Then no one would ever give you a hard time,” You quickly explain so your point doesn’t come across wrong.

You wait for Peter to say something. You wait for him to tell you no, or to say yes. You wait for him to say anything at all. But he’s radio silent.

Worry begins to creep up your spine. The pit in your stomach grows inch by inch every second he’s quiet. What if this is the wrong conclusion? What if you stepped too far? What have you done?

Fuck. You shouldn't have come. You shouldn’t have been stupid enough to think this was a good idea.

But out of nowhere, as if he just realizes that he’s the person you’re talking to, he speaks up.

“You would- do that for me?” He asks as his eyes grow soft and his eyebrows raise hopefully.

“Well, I mean, sure.” You nervously chuckle out. Rubbing the back of your neck with your palm.

“And anyways, you’d keep the creepy guys away from me.” You note as Peter seems to step back taking everything you’ve said in. What if he starts laughing? What if he is messing with you? He wouldn’t do that, right?

“I- I-“ you hold your breath as he begins talking, the pit in your stomach makes you feel like you might throw up. If he doesn’t hurry up you’re sure you’ll apologize profusely and run out of the apartment before he can say anything.

“I would love-“ Peter smiles “to be your boyfriend Y/n.”

Oh.

You let out a shaky breath. It worked. You don’t believe it. He said yes.

“Really?” You ask, a small quizzical smile on your face.

“Yeah.” He says grinning wide.

Well shit. It worked.

Tag List:

@riordanness

@princess-ofthe-pages

#peter parker #x reader #mcu peter x reader #mcu #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #mcu peter parker

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b00tyliciousbabe · 1 year

Text

my baby daddies - ep. 1

my comeback era xx

arón piper x male reader

summary: inside edition the slutty thoughts i have for mr piper xx

notes: hi ppl, hope y’all missed me. i’m back, after like a year of hibernation, with another imagine! hope you guys are all doing well <3 i will be releasing 2 other series (‘the DILFs’ and a surprise one 🤭) so stay tuned! plus y’all better thank me, I lost this draft not once, but TWICEEEE! happy with this iteration though.

apologies in advance y’all this is gonna be chaotic…and my spanish is very rusty.

you met arón on the set of ‘elite’ because you were in between working with the hair and makeup team whilst designing the costumes. You had familiarised yourself with the entire crew and made loads of friends but from day 1 it was clear that your connection with him was unparalleled. the pinnacle of romantic chemistry. it’s giving one of those moments in the films when the two lovers have their meet cute, staring into each others eyes and the rest of the world is just in their peripheral because at that moment only two people exist - you and him. From then on, the whole crew shipped you guys together, with your work besties ester (who plays carla) and mina (who plays nadia) urging you to make out with him. He too was not exempt from this teasing, and a lot of his fellow male cast mates lowkey pressured him to ask you out. Whilst the premiere was coming up, you began sorting out the final designs for the next season, he ran into the studio wearing nothing but calvin briefs.

“Y/N, you’ve gotta help me.” He said desperately. You were taken aback. You’d never seen someone look so hot while they were needy.

“hey arón, what seems to be the problem?” He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “can’t you see I’m practically naked?” You bit your lips taking in all of him “failing to see the issue here” which garnered a chuckle from him. “please y/n i’m so lost right now, i have no clue what to do” arón began panting which made you panic a lil bit. Placing your hands on his chest, you calmed his beating heartbeat “it’s okay, you know i’ve got you” Pulling one of your personal designs from the rack, you dressed him like he was your ken doll.

“i can do my own buttons you know,” he smiled watching you concentrate and manipulate the fabric to accentuate his features “i know but you wouldn’t be able to execute the vision i had for you in my mind” his eyes softened “you base your designs off me?” you looked up and met his gaze. “i’m not tryna give you a big head or anything, because it’s already quite elliptical, but kinda i guess.” he giggled as you watched his smile make his face look even cuter. “awww you got a lil crush on me,” aròn chuckled as you playfully beat his chest. “i mean, you’re handsome af I’ll give you that,” you felt his chest heaving with passion “why do you ask?” aròn held both your hands stopping you from working. “y/n,” you look up, all doe-eyed, surprised at the lack of distance between your lips. he breathed closer, opening the gates to your mouth as he graced you with a peck that lasted what felt like ages. the rest was history; that night he debuted the two of you as a couple to which was met with so much love.

you are at your gushiest whenever aròn smiles. it just makes you feel so happy seeing him so cute and all. stroking his cheek in the morning staring at him grinning in his sleep - probably dreaming of you.

the art of communication has always been strong in your relationship. your spanish-german bf was trilingual and meeting you pushed him to learn more on the side. your spanish was decent, certainly nothing to be proud but it improved drastically working on the show and being with aron. you were also highly proficient in two other languages and so he was adding to your roster. your relationship with him was a testament to the betterment of both people in a couple, you both pushed each other to try new things.

aron’s love language is definitely physical touch closely followed by gift giving, and so it made sense that he would buy you jewellery (even giving you his own) so he could both adore and adorn you. your favourite present he’s ever given you was the ‘A’ necklace he flaunts in a lot of his insta posts. he just loves seeing it around your neck - he’s yours. he even has an ‘A’ tattoo that now always reminds him of you.

even in the bedroom the necklace pays a huge role:

“my pretty little muñequita, fuck you feel so good.” he praised, railing you painstakingly slowly in missionary. you watched his eyes mirroring your overstimulated expression, as it darkened with his desire for more. you moved to his necklace which swung gracefully with every deep thrust. “ughhh” aròn’s moans got even loader you picked the pendant up and put it in between his teeth to muffle him. the sweat began to drip off his face as he began to imprint his teeth into the crystals, groaning in pleasure. “Nghhhh nghhh nghhh” it was getting too much for him as he dropped it, all red, hot, and bothered, directly into your mouth. You bit it seductively making your bf smile. other times when he’s hitting it from the back in prone bone, your hot bodies are cooled by the ice around his neck providing an amazing sensation when he spurts his warm cum inside you.

aròn is pretty decently hung, a bit on the skinnier side, nothing monstery, but deffo larger than average and it bends to the left. his favourite position is probably missionary; he wants to see the pleasure he’s giving you. the moans, your eyes, your lips, he wants to soak it all up and treasure every single expression you make whilst he’s inside you. you really like cowgirl as you’ve noticed it gets the most laughs and smiles from him, your biggest weakness. aròn loves it as well. the sight of you holding his pecs, bouncing up and down his pole as he grabs your ass sends him into overdrive. “shit mi amor, ughh, fuck, you sure know how to ride my dick.”

his kryptonite is oral. he’s such a whore for that mouth of yours. you guys waited for quite a while to have any nsfw activity because you wanted to establish a deep romantic connection first. so about 6 months into your relationship, you gave him head for the first time and OH MY GOSHHHH. you were coming back from date night, aròn wore an unbuttoned white dress shirt with chains and rings, all styled by you. it was raining and y’all decided to walk around the city and so tour chivalrous boyfriend offered his blazer to stop you from getting cold. you had never been more attracted to him. the way his wet hair laid messy on his head, abs protruded through his drenched shirt, it turned you on. so when you got into his apartment, you grabbed his hand and took him into the bedroom.

“despacio baby” he chuckled. you pushed him onto the bed, straddling and welcoming him with a kiss. you felt him grow beneath your ass, a sign for you to get on your knees. “y/n, wait what are you doing” aròn says as you began to unbuckle his pants. you didn’t hear, your brain too loud with horny thoughts to answer him. “cariño…” he held your hands at his belt. “are you sure you want to do this.” he asked worriedly, knowing how important sex was to you. “i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life” you mirrored his smirk, as he moved his hands, unbuttoning his shirt whilst you pulled his pants to his trousers. His tan cock stood strong, pink tip peaking through his freckled foreskin. he had a light brown bush leading up to his happy trail, urging you to lick down from his abs to his balls. “I’m so hard right now,” you started bobbing up and down and noticed how much of a panter he was. when he was close you started to deepthroat, to which he responded with a loud moan, yanking his dick out of your mouth and giving you the nastiest facial ever.

fucking loved it, as if he couldn’t love you more already…you were such a cockdrunk slut for him.

music plays a huge part of your relationship. when you guys are in the sheets, the symphony that comes from your bedroom is actually next level. oftentimes, aròn catches you humming and singing in the shower, to your embarrassment. “why are you hiding your face, your voice is incredible.” he praises. for his upcoming album, whilst in the studio, you came to check up on your bf bringing your freshly homemade brownies that you knew he loved. you knew aròn had been having a bit of a hard time completing one of the final tracks. as his team listened back to the record your bf was getting frustrated “ughhh it’s shit!” as he growled chucking song sheets across the room. “y/n you’ve got to speak to him, no one else is getting through to him and we are on a tight deadline” the executives who were present at the times warned. “he’ll be ready, i can assure you” you urged everyone else to leave the room. “aròn.” he didn’t answer. your tone softened, “papí…” you moved to him, noticing how tense he was getting. he looked up at you with teary eyes, hurting at how anxious he was getting. you knew what to do. “come on.” he followed u back into the recording booth. the track was playing, and all you did was talk, he spoke about his issues with fame, love, and life, and it was the perfect outro/interlude. you also added background vocals and harmonies into his tracks and the media went wild for it!

#gay #bottom male reader #aron piper #smut

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silly-mars · 3 months

Text

HELLO THERE!!

I'm Silly Mars! Or just Mars. I think it's finally to me to present myself!!

BASIC INFO!!

My name is Mars!

My pronouns are He/him ONLY (it's okay if you don't know my pronouns!! And you use they/them instead, but if you know please use my pronouns!!)

IM A MINOR. 16 to be exact. (Shocking i know, i even think to myself that i'm still in 2021). SO PLEASE!! don't be weird.

ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LENGUAGE!! I'm spanish (hola tontos jaja) still! I will try my best for having a decent english!! And don't worry, i can understand English perfectly, the problem for me is talking it or writting it.

I like to use tone tags!! It makes it easier to me to understand stuff!! (Sometimes i'm a dummy. /Lh /hj)

TALKING TO ME AND STUFF!!

GUYS PLEASE! i'm super friendly!!/srs I LOVE when people send me messages for art or even talking!! Please never think that you're annoying or something!! I love having notifications of my moots!! If you want, i invite you to talk to me! For whatever reason, and i hope to be good mutuals or if it's the case good friends!!

My username on discord is "silly_mars." If you need to talk to me for something important!! Just wanting to chat with me and interact (guys, i don't bite.) or even for projects n stuff!!

THINGS I LIKE!!

THE LEGO MOVIE!!

I think it's kinda obvious THE LOVE i have for this movie!! I remember being in computer class and there was a piece called "resistence" and i was like "THE PIECE OF RESISTENCE!!"...and my friend was worried for me, but that's another story.

Team fortress 2!!

I KNOW, what a shock! I like things THAT AREN'T THE LEGO MOVIE!! Well yes! So don't be surprised if i upload something that isn't LEGO movie!! Anyways i love this videogame so much, Scout my wife and Spy my human pet.

REGRETEVATOR!!

Silly little Roblox Game!! My favorite gender.

I just love videogames or media that have a lot of silly characters, so that game is for me!! Also, im literally Mark./j

WARRIOR CATS!!

I don't consume the canon stuff like i used to, but the fandom still has a place in my heart!! Because THE ART IS SO GOOD and the fan stuff is way too good!! Also i love my baby longtail. He deserved better :(

COPPERNAUTS

The fact that these two are characters from the LEGO movie, but they have a special interest is so amazing to me. THE FACT that they only have 1-2 canon interaction and they're ALL OVER MY HEAD is so amazing to me...UGH anyways, i hope gay people were real/ref

ASTRONOMY

Not really a fandom BUT I LOVE SPACE!! I can literally say 100 fun facts about space, PLEASE./hj

AAAAAND more stuff!! I have a lot of interests idk anymore guys:(

DNI N STUFF!!

Just basic DNI, yk, if you're homophobic/transphobic don't try to be my friend or even mutual, this place is safe for LGBT community AND MYSELF.

Racist stuff, ableist stuff, just- any type of hate for a group of people isn't welcome here.

if you ship something weird don't expect me to follow you back or interact with you.

If i don't like something i just scroll away, or if it is more serious, i block it and scroll away again.

LINKS!!

Well! I have a pair of links to get me know better!!

Pronoun page!!

My card!! (I don't know how to make good cards, but here is it, so you can find all my social media more easy, lol)

OKAY!1!!1! THAT'S ALL

Uhhh that's everything i guess!! Still, if you have any questions my ask box and other social media are open!! I hope you like my blog, art and even fanfics or projects!! Have a good day!

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remapped-soul · 10 months

Note

for the fic title thing i'm roughly translating part of an italian indie song

"where i'm from a kiss and a goodbye are the same thing"

in Italian: "da dove vengo io un bacio ed un addio sono la stessa cosa"

brocedes? rosquez? it's your pick, i'm in a angsty mood 😃

so. i know im half a year late. but. i hope this little ficlet i got for you will be worth it. all the angst and all that. i took the kiss part and ran away with it. inspiration suddenly arrived after ghosting me for months. also, this snippet is part of a bigger universe, set in the 5+1 au (the fabio fic on my ao3), sometime in the future.

Marc goes looking for Fabio, but he finds Valentino Rossi. Draped across the couch like he owns the place, Valentino looks up when Marc enters the motorhome as if he expected this all along. He merely blinks in Marc's direction before his focus shifts back to scrolling on his phone.

The door closes behind Marc with a soft sound. Fabio is nowhere in sight. Neither is Tom. No one enters Fabio's place without Tom's approval, but with Valentino here, Marc guesses Tom has been updated on the latest arrangements.

Marc stalls, unsure what to do. He planned this with Fabio a weekend ago. The time, the place. Did he forget? The idea sits wrong in the pit of his stomach. Marc could leave, try another time, but he has an interview in thirty minutes, a meeting with his team right after. Training and physio later in the evening. Beauty sleep at nine if he wants a decent race tomorrow.

Fabio wouldn't stand him up unless it was important.

Marc could leave. "Do you know where he is?" He asks instead, choosing English as his language, even if he speaks Italian as well. Neither here nor there, but meeting on neutral ground. They always yelled at each other in Italian. Valentino shrugs. "Do you know when he will be back?"

Valentino shrugs again. Doesn't even look up. Marc grits his teeth. He breathes in and remembers his agreement with Fabio, his love not finite, but so abundant he feels the need to share. At the end of the day, Fabio returns to him no matter what, but as Marc looks at Valentino, he is not so sure anymore.

Marc tries again. He always did. For Fabio he will always try. "Can you tell Fabio I looked for him? We had something planned. He…he knows why."

Valentino looks up at that, finally putting his phone away.

"I speak Spanish, you know?" He smiles, Spanish words rolling easily on his tongue. "I'm not sure when blondie will be back, but--" His eyes glint, and Marc bites his tongue to keep himself from snapping at Valentino. Valentino smiles like he knows this. "Can I help you with something?"

"It's fine," Marc replies in stilted English. He needs to get out of here. "I'll talk to him later." He needs to go before--

"I can help you with the arm."

Marc wants to scream.

"No, thank you." Marc had enough. He turns to leave before--

"Marc."

Before something happens. Something like this.

Marc freezes, ignores the stirring in his veins. Valentino hasn't called him by his name in so long. For fuck's sake.

"What?" Marc's Italian has always been harsher than his native tongue, than English. It's a blade sharpened to cut. He spins on his heels, feels his nostrils flare as he looks at Valentino, at the unreadable expression on his face. "What do you think you can do?"

Valentino gets up from the couch, hands raised slightly as if he is facing a rabid dog. Marc feels like one, heart pulsing on his ears, in the back of his throat. He searches Valentino's eyes and doesn't find hostility, nor mockery.

"Fabio has told me he massages your arm sometimes," Valentino continues in Spanish. "Whenever the weather changes. When it gets cold. Whenever you injure it." He doesn't mention the accident in Sachsenring.

"The Netherlands have always been cold."

Valentino sighs and stops a few feet away from Marc. "I'm trying," he says, still in Spanish. It grates on Marc's nerves. "We--"

"You don't need to do anything," Marc says. "I don't care what you do with Fabio as long as he's happy. Just leave me out of it." Marc pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to calm down. He doesn't want to yell. He did that enough when they still told each other i love you in Spanish. Now, they're strangers, and Marc wants to keep it that way. "It's not like you can change anything."

"For Fabio," Valentino continues as if he didn't hear Marc. "We should at least try for him. At some point we're all going to be in the same room. He deserves more than-"

Marc raises an eyebrow.

"This." He gestures between them. "More than us yelling at each other."

Marc raises the other eyebrow too.

"We won't be friends again, Rossi."

"We don't need to," Valentino says. "Just let me massage your arm. You have to race tomorrow."

Marc keeps close to the door as he watches Valentino, waiting. They both know the massage won't do jack shit for him. That's not why he asks Fabio to do it. But Valentino wants something and uses Fabio as an excuse. Marc can ignore everything but that. So he nods, smiles, and closes the distance between them, brushes against Valentino as he sits down on the couch and unzips his jacket, revealing his arm. Indulging, inviting. Holding his breath. Valentino follows.

Valentino's hands are cold on Marc's skin. He tenses his whole body, forbids himself to give even the smallest of tremors as Valentino's callused fingertips run down his biceps, pressing into the ridges slowly, as if Marc is made of glass. As if Valentino cares.

Marc scoffs. Side by side on the couch, he sees Valentino looking up from the corner of his eye. "You can press harder," Marc says. "I won't break. The scar tissue is dead anyway."

Valentino doesn't say anything. He keeps working the muscles, prodding and kneading the arm, breath warm against Marc's skin. If Fabio or Tom came, Marc doesn't know what his explanation is going to be. He mulls over words inside his mind, willing time to go faster, willing his heart to beat slower. Treacherous body, always acting erratically around Valentino. Marc focuses on keeping a steady hold on himself, so he doesn't notice when the air around him shifts, when the couch dips next to him. He snaps back to attention when Valentino presses his lips against Marc's scar, where healthy skin meets the dead tissue.

Marc's breath hitches.

"Vale--"

Valentino kisses down his arm. Slowly, reverence held in the corner of his mouth. He shifts closer, fingers closing around Marc's wrist, around Marc's thigh, caging him in, as if he is afraid Marc will spurt wings and take flight.

"Vale, what are you doing?" His voice breaks, a strange tune he doesn't recognise. Or one Marc chose to forget, reserved only for the nights when Valentino took him apart in the humid Spanish nights.

Valentino's mouth slips down his arm like silk, dry lips catching around Marc's scar, hot breath living goose flesh in its wake.

Marc shivers, leans towards the heat, head turning to see where Valentino is kissing his skin, so strange, so familiar. Valentino looks up at him through his eyelashes, the blue of his irises a whisper around his blown-out pupils. They breath in unison. Valentino leans back, reaches up, and Marc tilts his head down, thinking, thinking-- They haven't kissed since 2015. They haven't touched since 2016. Valentino caresses the edge of Marc's jaw, careful, careful. Marc pushes his cheek against his fingers, thinking, thinking-- is Valentino the same with Fabio? Careful, because he could break? Or rough, the way sometimes Marc is, pushing Fabio against walls, biting under his ear to get him to shiver, because that's how Fabio likes it, because Marc loves--

Marc wrenches himself away before Valentino can kiss him. He pushes himself to the other end of the couch, almost heaving, still looking at Valentino, at the flush on his face that probably matches Marc's own.

"Marc--"

"I'm done here," Marc says in English. "We're done." He leaves without looking back, door almost slamming behind him.

Marc announces he won't race after he leaves Assen early morning on Sunday, and doesn't see Fabio before that. Not in the morning, not the night before, after his duties are done. The only thing Marc gets from him is a text.

Valentino is here. I'm spending the night with him. Fabio doesn't ask for permission. Marc is not his keeper. He's just his boyfriend. So he texts back, Ok, take care. He doesn't text, I know. I almost kissed him. Marc puts his phone on silent and sleeps alone that night.

#luna.writes #so this happened #rosquez #marc marquez #valentino rossi #fabio quartararo #mabio #moto gp rpf #moto gp fanfic #this series is a mess and im figuring it out as i write #but it feels so good to write after so long #i hope you enjoooooy #maina this one is for you too hehe #it's a three-way street au

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ofstoriesandstardust · 1 year

Text

chapter 8 - renegade (b.r.b.)

a/n: chapter 7 flopped so here’s to hoping chapter 8 doesn’t as we near the end of this story

summary: Bradley is confronted with the aftermath of his decision and Sunshine gets unexpected advice from an even more unexpected father figure.

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | flight risk masterlist | ch. 7 - discussions, decisions, and divorces (oh my!) | ch. 9 - i know it won’t work

folks who wanted to be tagged: @justanothermagicalsara @fangirl-316 @herladyshipxx @parker-natasha @myhomeworksnotdone @pulisvertz @lass-that-is-gone @frenchtoastix @coco-loco-nut @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @torresbarnes @supernaturaldawning @you-had-me-at-dead-welsh-kings @katiemcrae @gretagerwigsmuse @the-winter-marvel33 @some-lovely-day @unordinare @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @annedub @hope-love-equality2 @coyotesamachado @hopefulinlove @mak-32 @daisyhollyxox @loveforaugust @earth-to-lottie @sometimesanalice @cheezit-bradshawseresin @none-of-your-bullshit @jstarr86 @caatheeriinee07 @galacticstxrdust @anony1080 @sarcasm-n-insomnia @sammyrenae68 @redbarn1995

warnings: alcohol mentions, swearing, insecurities, semi-cliffhanger, it’s angsty, Sunshine needed her own heart to heart

word count: 1.9k

“are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these?/and let all your damage damage me?/and carry your baggage up my street?/and make me your future history?”

You groan, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes as you lean over on the metal bench.

You must look ridiculous, you think to yourself.

Tucked away in a corner of San Diego State University’s massive campus, you felt like a fish out of water.

You’d always wanted to come see the campus, especially with Bradley living in the immediate neighborhood, but had never been able to come up with a decent enough reason to actually visit.

It was a pretty campus, old Spanish style buildings with the special tile roofs that always adorned the building style, flower bushes and trees shading the sunny campus. It reminded you a lot of the trip you and Bradley had taken to Balboa Park once for food trucks early on in your visit here and you could see why so many students flocked to this campus.

Turns out, the campus was also good for giving you a place to cry in peace after fleeing from your fake-husband after he contested the divorce for your fake-marriage.

You pull your hands away from your eyes, glancing at the time on your phone. You take a shaky breath, realizing that you can’t sit here and feel sorry for yourself for much longer, not if you want to make your flight and get the hell out of San Diego.

Your head throbs from the morning spent crying as you stand up from the bench, navigating back the way you came as you walk in the direction of Bradley’s house.

Your mind still feels fuzzy as you turn the corner on to Bradley’s street, no clear indication of what you should do.

You’d never fought with Bradley, never once in the decade you’d known him. You didn’t know how to be angry with him, much less at odds with him.

Because underneath it all, you were angry at yourself. Angry for getting attached, for failing in love with someone you knew you couldn’t have.

Except- you could have him. He had tried-

No.

You stamp out the spark of hope alighting in you.

Bradley Bradshaw had had more than a whole decade to confess how he felt about you and if it took a near-death experience for him to-

You pause, doing a double-take at the car in the driveway. You glance to the front door, teeth coming to worry at your bottom lip.

With a sinking stomach, you tread the last few feet up to the front door, pushing it open slowly.

It’s unlocked, you note, as you step through the entrance, walking the few feet into the living room.

And there he stands, looking at the photo of Bradley at his graduation from UVA.

The one you had taken all those years ago, when life didn’t seem so complicated, when you forced yourself to be content with friendship with Bradley because you were sure it was all that would ever be offered to you.

He glances over at the sound of the front door closing as you stand there nervously, hands coming to clasp together in front of you. He offers you a warm smile, taking a step back back from the picture.

“Admiral Kazansky, I uh- what are you doing here?”

His locker slams shut in front of him, only pulling his fingers back with just enough time before they got crushed by the metal. He glances over at the brunette standing next to him, looking by all accounts, thoroughly pissed.

“What the fuck Bradshaw?” She hisses. He glances up at his squadron, bewildered as they all look on with varying mixes of confusion.

“What’d I do?”

“What’d I do? He asks!” She throws her hands up in the air. “You know what you did Bradshaw!”

He blinks, staring at her. “Nat, I’m lost.”

She huffs. “You’re a moron.”

He blinks again. “Can I be clued into why you’re insulting me or are you just going to keep yelling at me? I’ve kind of already had a shit morning Nat, so I’m not really in the mood for this.

She narrows her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“Lieutenant Trace, this isn’t your locker room.” They both turn, seeing Maverick’s figure. He jerks his head to the doors, to which she sighs.

“This isn’t over yet Bradshaw, mark my words.” She whispers, before turning on her heel and heading for the doors.

“Uh, Lieutenant Bradshaw-” Maverick pauses as he tugs the black shirt over his head. “Why are you here?”

“Because this is my job?”

Maverick sighs. “My office, please Lieutenant.”

He huffs, stepping over the bench. The short walk to Maverick’s office is quiet and Maverick shuts the door behind him with a sigh.

“Bradley, if- if you want to take some time for yourself, Cyclone and I- we would understand.”

“I’m fine sir.”

Maverick fixes him with a pointed look. “Cut the crap, Bradley. You signed divorce papers this morning. You’re allowed to not be okay right now.”

He shrugs, eyes drifting up to one of the plaques on the wall.

The plaque from the mission.

“Bradley.”

“I don’t know that I am, sir. Allowed to not be okay.”

Maverick sighs, moving from where he’s standing behind his desk to in front of it, stepping right into his point of view.

“Go home, kid. Take some time for yourself.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Sunshine wants to see me right now. I’d probably be chased out of my own home.”

A confused look crosses over Maverick’s face. “Why?” He shakes his head, pointing to the extra chairs in the office. “Here kid, sit down. Talk to me. What happened?”

He sighs as he sits, leaning over to rest his forearms on his knees. “I did something so stupid, Mav. It cost me her.”

“Kid, what did you do? Tell me what happened?”

He sighs, reaching up to rub a hand over his face. “Last night, I tried- I tried to tell her that I loved her. She wouldn’t hear it, completely shut me down. Told me I was projecting my unresolved trauma and mid-life crisis on to her. And I just- I panicked. I just wanted to keep her.”

Maverick reaches a hand out to rub his shoulder sympathetically. “So this morning?”

He takes a shaky breath, lifting his head to face his godfather. “So this morning, I- I was gonna do it I swear.” His voice cracks on the last word, making him blow out a breath in a pitiful attempt to calm down. “But I- I just looked at her and realized I couldn't lose her.” He pauses, hot tears stinging at his eyes.

“Mav, I contested the divorce.”

“Maverick texted me. Told me what Bradley did.”

You sigh, crossing your arms. “Okay, so I’m still not following why you’re here. Sir.”

Tom waves a hand, letting out a laugh. “Please, you aren’t a pilot. We aren’t on a Naval base. Brad married you, please don’t call me sir.”

You nod, nerves still thrumming through you. “Okay.” You bite back the sir that’s threatened to follow just barely, earning an eyebrow raise from Tom.

“I wanted to see how you were doing.”

You shrug. “I’ve been better.”

“Do you mind me asking what happened?”

“Bradley’s a idiot. No offense.”

Tom lets out another little laugh. “He isn’t the brightest sometimes, yeah.”

“He just- he doesn’t fucking listen.”

Tom hums. “He never really has been the best listener.”

It’s silent for a moment as Tom takes a few steps closer to you and then he sighs.

“You’re better than what Brad deserves, that’s for sure.”

You cautiously raise your head from the hole it’s burning into the floor, frown forming on your face. “I don’t-”

He shakes his head, cutting you off. “You are. Not very many people would do what you’ve done for him.”

You give a half-shrug, feeling your throat close up. “He was my friend.”

“Was or is?”

“I- I don’t know anymore.”

Tom lets out a breath through his teeth. “Look kid, none of us will really blame you if you run as far away from him as possible. Lord knows he deserves it. But he’ll never find someone like you. You’re it for him. He just- he loves you so much. I’ve known it since the day I met you.”

You swallow. “Thought you didn’t like me very much. Kind of failed at the whole first impression thing.”

“His love for you is the only thing that ever made me take pause and wonder if I was wrong. You’re a great girl, but I mean it when I say that you’re better than what Brad deserves. I had my doubts, but never about you.” He sighs, resting one of his hands on your shoulder. “I saw how Brad iced out Maverick for a decade. I saw what he was like when he was volatile and vulnerable. I had my doubts that he would let someone like you see those sides of him and stick around. But I’ve also seen Brad at his most loving and he does love you, he really does. He just wants you to let him love you.”

You give another half-shrug, eyes flickering away from the old man’s face. “I’m not good at this, you know? My parents hated each other. Hated me. I’ve only ever managed to date men who use me and treat me like the dirt beneath their feet and I just- I don’t know how to do all of this.”

You take a step back from him as you shake your head, a tear slipping down your face. “You say that I’m better than what Bradley deserves but the truth is, he’s better than what I deserve. He’s so kind and funny and he’d do anything for his friends that I just-”

You break down into tears once more.

“I’m not angry at him. I’m angry at myself for falling for him. I’m angry that allowed myself to put myself in this position when I knew it ended with me getting hurt.”

“But it doesn’t have to end that way, with you getting hurt.”

“How could it not?”

“Bradshaw, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home, trying to fix things with your wife?”

He sighs, taking a long draw from his beer before swinging his head to greet his best friend. “Good to see you too Phoenix.”

She sighs, shaking her head. “You’ve fucked up.”

He fiddles with a peanut, attempting to break the shell open. It’s a difficult process, the shell unwilling to budge and finally he sighs, setting it down on the bartop. “Phoenix, what do you want me to say? I know I’ve fucked up. I’ve maybe lost her forever, but- I had to try.”

She looks at him for a minute before sighing, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “Go home Rooster.”

He shakes his head, eyes downcast on the wooden bartop. “She’s gone. Her flight left this afternoon. and I can’t- I can’t go back to that house, knowing it’s empty. I had her and I lost her.”

The car idles in the driveway.

He’s not sure what time it is, having lost track between when he left the Hard Deck and drove around aimlessly, avoiding going back to a home full of ghosts.

But now, he’s even more anxious as his fingertips tap against the steering wheel.

The porch light is on.

The porch light shouldn’t be on, not if you left this afternoon like you were supposed.

Why is the porch light on?

He’d almost be afraid to find out if it wasn’t for the hope suddenly coursing through him.

Did- did you stay?

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #flight risk

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storyspinner91 · 3 months

Text

Twenty Fanfic Writer Questions

Tagged by @littleblackraincloudofcourse

Tagging @lowkeyed1 @evodevo-geekmonkey @dianels @bisexualshakespeare @spybrarian @blackdalek

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

7 (3 are WiP)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

186,452

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Willow! ...Technically other things too but really it's just Willow with playful skins.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Red Embers: dark alternate future AU, resistance fighters against the Wyrm's tyranny, grim & gritty

Like Constellations, a Million Years Away: sprawling mecha sci-fi AU set in the world of the Lancer tabletop roleplaying game. The Questies all pilot giant mechs; four books (2 done), one focused on each of Jade, Kit, Graydon, and Elora (in that order). Posthumanism, anticolonial to the extent a fanfic can be, utopian, dramatic.

Soft Blazing Crowns: Tanthamoretober one-shot. Modern AU. Elora helps Jade with a sexy photoshoot for a gift for Kit.

Full: (E-rated) Tanthamoretober one-shot. Modern AU. Straight-up smut drabble, 100 words on the dot. Extremely funny to me that this is in the top 5. :P

The Loving Hurt: Canon-set one-shot digging into the violence implied by the canon against the Bone Reavers, Scorpia's backstory, how Jade got her name. Dark, grim, not pleasant to write and in some ways probably not to read TBH. I was in A Mood!

5. Do you respond to comments?

Religiously! Sometimes it takes me a while, but I do.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm. I mean I think it's gotta be The Loving Hurt. Like I said. Dark. Blame the show's writers, I do. :P

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Gonna resist the temptation to say Full and instead say I think that it'll probably be Flawless Five vol. 1 when it's finished in a few weeks!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not so far!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

The only thing I'd consider smut is Full. Otherwise, not anywhere that you can see. ;)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No true crossovers, though Like Constellations is set (loosely) in the Lancer Universe.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so! They're too weird!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No but I'd be so honored.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope!

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I am a Tanthamore diehard, what can I say.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

If you'd asked me recently I'd probably have said "all of them." Fortunately I'm feeling a little better lately! I hope to finish all of the current ones; Constellations is a slow, weighty project, F5 I hope to have done very shortly, Embers...we'll figure that out after F5.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm pretty good at dialogue, and I'm decent though not incredible at humor (especially character-based humor). I'm also a decent mimic - though this can feel a little clunky sometimes, I think I'm able to adjust my voice pretty easily to suit a situation, genre, or style. My unhinged and unpopular fic Excerpts from a new translation... is a pretty good example of that, lol. And on that note: I have a lot of fun with wacky metatextual stuff.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Taking the wacky meta stuff too far; not being bold enough in straying from the established character arcs/plots in canon; I don't think I'm great at writing really juicy interiority. Starting very large projects that will take forever to finish. ':)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'm comfortable enough in Spanish to write simple dialogue in that language. I've done one line in Latin (which I'm comfortable with since it's functionally a dead language) and made up some words in a conlang for Constellations. Wouldn't try anything via Google Translate though.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Willow! At least if we count conscious fanfiction. If we're going back to the Days of Yore probably Animorphs when I was a wee one.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Difficult to pick...but Like Constellations is the baby, the one I'll finish come hell or high water (I hope). On the other hand, Flawless Five is probably the most fun (to write, and maybe to read if you like that sort of thing) and Red Embers is the one that in many ways I find most exciting. Like I said - hard to choose!

#tag game #willow 2022 #fanfic #tanthamore #willow #my a03

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a-lexia11 · 9 hours

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Womanizer (Part 1)

Fuckboy!Alexia Putellas x reader

Word count: Around 14k

Warning:highly suggestive (minors DNI), some angst.

Based on this request

Part 2

Note: I will be posting Part 2 in a few minutes, I just need to proofread it!

You relocated to Barcelona, hoping for a fresh start—a new city, new people, and a chance to rebuild your life with your three-year-old daughter, Mia.

You needed a place where the past wouldn’t haunt you, where you could finally focus on giving Mia the stable life she deserves.

It hasn’t been easy. You spent five years with your ex-boyfriend, someone you once believed was your forever. But over time, the cracks began to show.

He cheated on you more times than you care to remember, always finding excuses, always making promises he never kept.

When you discovered you were pregnant, you thought maybe things would change—that becoming parents might finally bring him closer.

Instead, the moment he found out about the pregnancy, he walked out on you without a second thought.

He left you to carry the weight of it all alone—heartbroken, pregnant, and unsure of what the future held.

Here in Barcelona, you met your neighbor, Carmen, a true blessing in your life. From the very first day you moved in, she was there—knocking on your door with a plate of home-cooked food, her warm smile making you feel like you weren’t quite so far from home.

Additionally, Carmen speaks English, which has been a great relief. Navigating a new country is challenging enough, and trying to learn Spanish on top of it all has been overwhelming at times.

Still, you believe your Spanish is at a decent level.

So when you first realized she was fluent, it felt like another little gift from the universe.

Carmen, with her silver-streaked hair and lively eyes, quickly became a constant in your new world, someone who seemed to understand without asking too many questions.

“You remind me of my daughter,” she’d say often, her tone affectionate as she’d pass by your door or hand you a fresh loaf of bread from the bakery down the street.

It didn’t take long before she offered you a job at her pride and joy—her little flower shop on the corner. “It’s nothing fancy,” she’d told you with a shrug, “but it’s my heart. And I could use the help. You’ll like it, trust me.”

At first, you hesitated. You hadn’t planned on working with flowers, or working at all, not while you were still getting your bearings in a new city.

But Carmen’s offer came at just the right time, and something about her made it impossible to refuse.

The shop itself is small but beautiful. The soft light from the street filters through the windows in the morning, casting a warm glow over the arrangements of roses, lilies, and wildflowers.

You spend your first days trimming stems, arranging blooms, and greeting customers. It’s peaceful in a way you hadn’t expected—almost therapeutic.

——

One afternoon, while you’re carefully arranging a bouquet behind the counter, the soft chime of the doorbell rang through the shop. You glanced up, and there she is—Alexia Putellas.

Her arrival is impossible to miss. Not only because she’s Barcelona’s football darling, her face splashed across billboards all over the city, but because she’s also infamous for her reputation. A womanizer. The kind of woman who seems to have a new lover every week.

Carmen had spoken of her often, describing how Alexia visits the shop almost daily. To Carmen, she’s practically like a daughter.

But until now, you hadn’t seen Alexia yourself. She’s been away, traveling for football matches.

Your daughter, Mia, is a huge fan of hers, idolizing her both as a footballer and a larger-than-life figure.

You’d never told Mia about Alexia’s reputation though—it wasn’t something your three-year-old needed to know obviously.

Alexia entered the shop with that unmistakable swagger, every movement filled with a quiet confidence that immediately grabs attention.

She’s not alone either. A shorter woman is draped under her arm, looking relaxed and cozy, as if she’s used to being in such close proximity to Alexia.

It’s unclear whether she’s a friend or one of Alexia’s many "flings," but the way they moved together hints at something more, or perhaps nothing at all. With Alexia, it’s hard to tell.

Alexia greeted Carmen as though she’s just stopped by to visit family.

She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Carmen’s cheek. “¡Hola, Carmen!” she said warmly. “¡Qué gusto verte! Te he echado de menos.” (Hi, Carmen! It's so good to see you! I've missed you)

Carmen beamed, clearly delighted to see her. “¡Alexia! ¡Qué alegría verte de nuevo!” she exclaimed , her voice filled with affection. (Alexia! What a joy to see you again)

“Hace tiempo que no pasabas por aquí. ¿Cómo te ha ido? Todo bien con los partidos?” (It's been a while since you last came by. How have you been? Everything going well with the matches?)

“Todo bien, gracias. Una temporada agotadora, pero estamos ganando, así que vale la pena,” Alexia replied, her eyes drifting around the shop before locking onto you. (All good, thanks. It's been an exhausting season, but we're winning, so it's worth it)

“Esta es Laura,” she added casually, introducing the woman at her side. (This is Laura)

“Laura, te presento a Carmen, la dueña de esta maravillosa floristería.” (Laura, let me introduce you to Carmen, the owner of this wonderful flower shop)

Laura smiled kindly at Carmen. “Encantada, Carmen,” she said, her voice soft but genuine. (Nice to meet you, Carmen)

“El placer es mío, Laura,” Carmen replied. “¿Qué te trae por Barcelona?” (The pleasure is mine, Laura.What brings you to Barcelona?)

Laura shrugged with a small laugh. “Estoy aquí de visita. Alexia me está mostrando la ciudad.” (I'm here visiting. Alexia is showing me around the city.)

The conversation flowed easily between them, but Alexia’s gaze kept drifting back to you.

Her eyes swept over you in a way that felt unsettling—almost predatory, as if she were sizing you up.

It’s a look you’ve seen before—back when you were too trusting, too naive, and ended up burned by someone who once gazed at you the same way.

After a bit of back-and-forth, Carmen invited Laura to check out some of the newer flower arrangements, leading her away from the counter. And that’s when Alexia seized her moment.

She walked over to you, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Hola, guapa,” she said in a tone dripping with confidence. “No creo que nos hayamos conocido. Soy Alexia.” (Hello, gorgeous.I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Alexia)

You focused on your work, refusing to meet her gaze. “Y/N,” you replied coolly, your voice polite but distant.

“Un placer, Y/N,” Alexia continued, clearly undeterred by your indifference. (Nice to meet you, Y/N)

She leaned casually on the counter, her eyes following the movements of your hands as you arranged the flowers. “Sabes, tienes un gran talento con las flores”. (You know, you have a real talent with flowers)

You kept your expression neutral, fully aware of what she was trying to do. You were tired of smooth talkers, especially someone like Alexia, who likely believed she could charm anyone into bed.

You’ve seen it all before—Mia’s father had the same cocky attitude before he left you when things got tough.

Without looking up, you switched to English, knowing full well that Alexia speaks it fluently. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate you flirting with someone else.”

Alexia’s smirk widened, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Ah, what a beautiful voice you have, Y/N,” she replied in flawless English, her thick accent making her cockiness even more apparent.

“She’s not my girlfriend, don’t worry. Just a friend… we have a lot of fun together.” She winked at you, making her meaning painfully clear.

You rolled your eyes and refocused on the flowers, hoping that by ignoring her, she would eventually leave you alone.

But Alexia leaned closer, not giving up so easily. “You seem annoyed. I could help with that, you know,” she said, her voice low and suggestive.

You let out a huff, finally meeting her gaze. “You’re the one annoying me.”

Alexia chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “Feisty. I like it,” she said, leaning even closer, her grin widening. “You know, people like you? They’re always incredible in bed.”

You shot her a withering glare but remained silent, resolved not to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

You figured that if you didn’t engage, she would get bored and leave. Just before she could say anything else, though, Laura called for her from across the shop.

Alexia straightened up, glancing over at Laura before turning back to you with a smirk. “Don’t miss me too much. I’ll be right back,” she said, winking playfully before sauntering off.

You watched as she approached Laura, wrapping her arms around her from behind and brushing her lips against the top of Laura’s head.

As if sensing your gaze, Alexia glanced back your way and sent you another wink, clearly enjoying the game she was playing.

You rolled your eyes again, muttering under your breath as you gave her the finger. Alexia just grinned, clearly amused, before turning back to Laura.

Eventually, they returned to the counter to pay. Carmen chatted happily with them as they gathered their things, but you kept your focus on your work, doing your best to ignore Alexia’s presence.

As they finished paying, Alexia turned to you one last time. “Adios, Y/N,” she said with a playful wink. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You didn’t bother replying, simply giving her a blank look as she left the shop, the bell chiming softly behind her.

Once they were gone, Carmen walked over with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” she said gently. “I left you alone with Alexia. She can be… intense.”

“Intense is an understatement.”you replied with a small laugh.

Carmen chuckled, shaking her head. “Yes, I know. She really enjoys the company of women, but I promise you, she’s a good person at heart. You just need to get to know her better.”

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Sure,” you muttered, not believing a word of it.

——

“Mommy!” Your daughter’s voice called out as soon as you walked through the door of your apartment, returning home from work.

“Hi, baby! I missed you so much,” you said, scooping her up and wrapping her in a tight hug, showering her face with kisses.

“I missed you too!” she giggled, her small arms clinging to you.

You gently set her down and handed her the single flower you’d brought home. It had become a ritual—bringing her a different flower each week because she absolutely adored them.

“Ooh, this one is so pretty! Thank you, Mommy,” she said, planting a kiss on your cheek before dashing off to her room, likely to add her new flower to the others.

“Muchísimas gracias, María,” you said, turning to María, Mia’s babysitter, who had been helping you since you arrived in Barcelona. You handed her a small envelope with money. (Thank you very much,María)

“You’re welcome, Y/N. I love taking care of her. Es una niña maravillosa,” María responded warmly, her smile genuine. (She’s a wonderful girl)

María has been babysitting Mia since you moved to Barcelona. As Mia hasn’t started school yet, she’s still learning Spanish, and María has played a key role in helping her with that.

“Mia, come say goodbye to María, please,” you called out.

Mia came running, her face lighting up as she threw herself into María’s arms and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Adiós, María,” she said in sweet, accented Spanish.

“Adiós, Mia. Hasta mañana,” María replied, giving her a final hug before turning to you. “Adiós,” she said, and you echoed her farewell as she left.

After dinner, Mia begged you to let her watch the Barcelona match. You rolled your eyes internally at the thought of seeing Alexia again, even if only on the screen, but Mia’s big, pleading eyes made it impossible to refuse.

Now, you’re settled in front of the TV with Mia snuggled next to you, both of you watching the match. Mia is practically vibrating with excitement.

When Alexia scored a goal, Mia leaped up from the couch, clapping her hands and cheering loudly. “Did you see that, Mommy? It was amazing!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she mimicked Alexia’s celebration, kissing her shirt just like Alexia did on the screen.

“Yes, I saw that,” you replied, forcing a smile even though your heart wasn’t in it. You couldn’t ignore the pang of frustration at how deeply Mia admired Alexia.

“I want to be just like her when I grow up,” Mia declared, her gaze fixed intently on the TV. Her little hands were raised, as if she were celebrating her own goal.

“Eww, no,” you said without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

“Why not?” Mia asked, her voice quivering slightly. “I want to be a great player like Alexia. you think I can’t ?”

“Shit, Y/N, think before you speak!” you mentally reprimanded yourself, recognizing that your impulsive reaction could have hurt her feelings.

Your heart melted at the sincerity shining in her eyes.

“Of course you can be a great player,” you said, lifting Mia onto your lap and kissing her forehead.

“Even better than Alexia. But remember, you don’t have to be like her. You can be yourself and still be amazing.”

“Yes! I can be better!” she exclaimed, her spirits lifted. She turns back to the TV, still nestled in your arms, eyes glued to the game.

As you watch the match, you can’t help but feel conflicted. You understand that Alexia’s skill on the field has earned her immense admiration and a place in Mia’s heart.

Yet, you found it difficult to reconcile your daughter’s admiration for someone whose reputation clashed so sharply with your own values.

——

“Hola, guapa. I missed you since yesterday,” you heard Alexia’s voice, laced with her trademark confidence, as you arranged some flowers in a pot.

Startled, you turned to find her standing just behind you. With Carmen out for her dentist appointment, it was just you and Alexia. You let out a sigh, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over you.

You attempted to ignore her, concentrating hard on your task at hand.

“Hey, it’s rude to ignore a customer,” Alexia teased, her tone playfully mocking. “I might just have to tell Carmen about this.”

“You’re not a customer, just a nuisance,” you shot back curtly as you made your way toward the register.

Alexia followed you, casually leaning against the counter with her elbow propped up and her chin resting on her hand, her gaze fixed intently on you.

“Oh, me encanta cuando las mujeres se hacen las difíciles. Es un gran excitante“ (Oh, I love it when women play hard to get. It’s such a turn-on)

“I’m not playing hard to get; I genuinely have no interest,” you replied, focusing on cutting the roses.

Alexia’s smirk grew wider. “Oh, really? Who isn’t interested in me? Me has visto? (Have you seen me?)

You glanced her up and down, feigning disinterest. “Yes, I see you, but there’s not much to see,” you retorted, even though you couldn't deny her stunning looks.

“Por favor, amor, you and I both know you’re lying,” she replied with a smirk, clearly relishing the back-and-forth.

She continued, “You know, last night I had a match.” You merely hummed in response, your disinterest evident as you focused on your work. “Did you watch it?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of pride.

You made a face of mild disgust before lying, “No.”

“Qué pena,” she said with a self-satisfied grin.(What a shame)

“We won, and I even scored a goal—just for you,” she added, her tone brimming with confidence and a hint of arrogance.

You can’t help but scoff at her audacity. “Do you use that line on every girl you want in your bed?” you asked, finally looking up from arranging the flowers.

“A few of them,” she replied with a casual shrug, her playful smile still intact.

You tried to brush off the way she was getting under your skin. “So, what do you want? Carmen won’t be here until this afternoon if you’re looking for her.”

Alexia's eyes sparkled with mischief. “I didn’t come for Carmen. I just wanted to see you. Echaba de menos tu actitud atrevida,” she said, her gaze lingering on you as she bit her lip. (I missed your feisty attitude)

You pointed the flower cutter at her, trying to emphasize your point. “Don’t make me use this on you.”

Alexia’s grin only grew wider. “Dios, you’re so incredibly hot when you’re all aggressive. It just makes me want you more.”

You decided to ignore her comment.

“I want to buy some flowers,” she finally said, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Well, there are plenty of flowers to choose from. Just pick what you want, pay, and then leave,” you snapped, your patience wearing thin.

“Hey! No need to be rude,” she teased, crossing her arms as she sat on the counter. “Necesito un consejo.” (I need some advice)

You looked at her, signaling for her to continue.

“So, what kind of flowers should I get to say I’m sorry?” she asked, her tone surprisingly earnest.

Recognizing her genuine curiosity, you decided to help out. “You might want to consider blue hyacinths. They symbolize sincerity and heartfelt apologies,” you suggested, motioning for her to follow you as you walked over to the flowers.

“Or red carnations,” you added, pointing to another option. “They also symbolize an apology and love.”

Alexia studied the flowers with a focused intensity that caught your attention, her fingers lightly brushing over the petals as she contemplated her choices.

Standing this close, the faint scent of her perfume enveloped you, making it hard to resist being drawn in.

You realize you’re watching her more than you intended, taking in how her long, blonde hair fell over her shoulders, glinting in the light.

Her hazel eyes appeared even brighter in the soft glow of the shop, framed by thick lashes that enhanced her striking beauty.

She stood tall, her toned figure moving with an effortless grace that naturally commanded attention.

For a moment, you're caught off guard, realizing just how incredibly gorgeous she really is.

“Ay! I can’t decide. Which one would be more fitting for ‘I’m sorry for kicking you out of my bed, bruising you, and making you leave half-naked because my sister was coming over? But hey, will you come back and have sex with me again?’” she said casually, pulling you out of your daze.

You stared at her in disbelief before finally saying, “The blue hyacinths,” and pushed them toward her chest before walking away.

Alexia headed to the counter, pulling out her wallet. “Gracias. I hope she’ll love them. How much?” she asked, her smirk never fading.

You told her the total, and she handed over the money. But rather than walking away, she moved around the counter with a sly grin.

Before you knew it, she had you cornered, her presence dominating the small space between you and the wall. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in closer.

“What do you want now? As a customer, you’re not supposed to be on this side of the counter,” you said, meeting her gaze with defiance.

Alexia leaned closer, her breath warm against your ear. “I’ll get you in my bed one day. I saw the way you looked at me. Estás tan cerca de ceder” (You’re so close to giving in)

“The only time I’ll be in your bed is in your dreams,” you whispered back, maintaining your defiant tone.

Alexia’s smile is both wicked and confident. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my bed, even if it’s just in my dreams,” she said before turning to leave.

She paused at the door, glancing back with a sly smile. “I don’t give up easily,” she added before walking out.

You watched her leave, a mix of frustration and unwanted attraction coursing through you.

——

The next morning, you found Alexia back in the shop, but this time, Carmen was there too, much to your relief.

As you stepped out of the back room, you noticed Alexia with a different woman, not Laura, whom you had previously met.

You assumed this was the woman Alexia needed to apologize to.

You arranged the flowers on display, offering Alexia and her companion a brief, polite greeting before moving to the other side of the shop.

While bending over to adjust some flowers, you heard Alexia’s unmistakable voice. “Hmm, me encanta ver a las mujeres inclinarse así. Es mi posición favorita.” (Hmm, I love watching women bend over like that. It’s my favorite position.)

You straightened up immediately and shot her a sharp look.

“I see the flowers worked,” you said, nodding toward the woman Alexia had entered the store with.

“Oh, that’s not her! But yes, they worked” Alexia replied with a self-satisfied smirk.

“I just wanted to thank you. Gracias a ti, tuve una noche increíble,” she said, giving you a playful eyebrow wiggle. (Thanks to you, I had an amazing night.)

You rolled your eyes and turned away, trying to ignore her.

Later, as you and Carmen are working at the register, Alexia and her date approached, carrying a bouquet of flowers.

“Oh, ¡buena elección! Las rosas rojas siempre son una excelente opción,” Carmen said enthusiastically, and the woman thanked her. (Oh, good choice! Red roses are always a great option.)

Alexia’s arm is draped casually around her current date’s shoulders, a gesture of intimacy that’s impossible to ignore.

As she pulled her wallet from her handbag, she handed Carmen a generous tip along with the payment for the flowers.

“Espera un momento para tu cambio; no hay suficiente en la caja,” Carmen said, her voice trailing off as she headed into the back room.(Hold on for your change; there’s not enough in the register)

With Carmen out of sight, Alexia turned her attention back to her date, a playful smirk curling on her lips.

She slid her hand around the woman’s neck, her touch both firm and tender, tilting her head back. Alexia leaned down slowly, her movements deliberate and sensuous.

She planted a deep, lingering kiss on her date’s lips.

As their lips met, you could see Alexia’s tongue gently sliding into the woman’s mouth, adding a more intimate, passionate touch to the kiss.

Her eyes though remain locked on yours throughout, a challenge in her gaze as if daring you to react.

The kiss seemed to stretch in defiance of time, with Alexia’s lips lingering and her fingers lightly tracing the woman’s neck.

The soft, rhythmic sound of their kissing was the only noise in the room, creating an almost palpable tension that seemed to fill the entire space.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief, clearly relishing the provocative display she was creating. As she continued to kiss her date with a slow, deliberate intensity, she stared at you, her gaze both teasing and challenging.

With a playful wink, she seemed to savor the effect her performance was having on you, fully aware of the spectacle she was making.

As Carmen’s footsteps drew nearer, Alexia slowly and reluctantly pulled away, her expression one of satisfaction.

With a smirk, she casually wiped with her thumb the lingering trace of saliva from the woman’s lips, clearly pleased with the effect of their intimate display.

She turned to you, her expression a mix of mischief and confidence.

Her gaze remained steady, her eyes sparkling with amusement and a hint of challenge. You met her stare, striving to maintain your composure despite the palpable tension in the air.

You narrowed your eyes at her, feeling the heat of the moment as you struggled to maintain your professional demeanor amidst the charged atmosphere created by Alexia’s bold flirtation.

“Carmen, ¿podrías arreglar que estas flores se entreguen en mi casa mañana por la mañana?” Alexia asked sweetly, her gaze flickering to you with an almost imperceptible, suggestive glint. (Carmen, could you arrange for some flowers to be delivered to my house tomorrow morning?)

“Sí, por supuesto. Y/N, ¿podrías encargarte de la entrega?” Carmen asked you with a gentle smile. (Yes, of course. Y/N, would you be able to handle the delivery?)

You forced a polite smile and nodded. “Of course,” you replied, feeling Alexia’s gaze linger on you. She beamed, giving you a subtle, mischievous wink that made your heart skip a beat.

“¡Genial! Entonces, Carmen, te enviaré un mensaje con los detalles más tarde, ¿está bien?” Alexia said her tone almost triumphant as she looked at Carmen. (Great! Then, Carmen, I’ll send you a message with the details later, okay?)

“¡Claro!” Carmen replied warmly, handing back the flowers and Alexia’s change. (Of course.)

“Nos vemos mañana,” Alexia said with a lingering, teasing smile and blowing you a kiss before turning to leave. (See you tomorrow.)

Her smile promised more than just a casual encounter.

Carmen watched her go and then turned to you with a knowing grin.

“Please, don’t,” you said, shaking your head as you walked away, hearing Carmen’s amused chuckle behind you.

——

“Mommy?” Your daughter’s voice piped up during dinner, catching your attention.

“Yes, darling?” You looked up from your meal, focusing on her earnest face.

“One day, can I come to your work with you? I really want to see the pretty flowers,” she asked, her large eyes full of hope and excitement.

“I’ll have to ask Carmen about that first,” you said, and her eyes lit up with a bright smile.

“So that means it’s a yes, right? Because Carmen loves me so much. She always tells me she loves me,” she said, her grin widening as she swung her legs under the table.

“Of course, Carmen adores you. It’s impossible not to with how adorable you are,” you said, reaching over to gently squeeze her cheek.

You planted a series of soft, playful kisses on her cheek, making her giggle uncontrollably.

——

“Alright, it’s here,” you muttered to yourself as you arrived at Alexia’s apartment with her flower delivery.

She had ordered three large bouquets—two of red roses and one of white roses.

You knocked on the door, but there was no response. After waiting several minutes, you tried again, this time rapping more insistently. Still, silence.

Growing increasingly frustrated and determined, you delivered one last, resolute knock.

After a few more minutes, Alexia finally opened the door, looking slightly breathless and dressed only in a sports bra and shorts.

“Hola, guapa. Sorry for the wait, I was… busy. Please, come in,” she said with an inviting smile, opening the door wider as you stepped inside.

“Here. You can put them on the kitchen table,” she gestured to a white table.

“Were you working out?” you asked, noting her sweaty appearance and minimal attire.

She smirked, her confidence barely contained. “You could say that. Just working on my cardio.”

You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over her defined abs and the tattooed elegance of her back. She was stunning, a vision of physical perfection.

Your admiration was interrupted by the sound of voices. Turning around, you saw two tall and impossibly beautiful women, one brunette and one blonde emerging from a room. They looked like they could be models.

“Damas,” Alexia said, her voice dripping with satisfaction, “tuve una noche y mañana increíble con ambas” as she handed them the red rose bouquets. (Ladies,I had an amazing night and morning with both of you)

The brunette woman leaned in first, her lips brushing against Alexia's in a soft, lingering kiss.

Afterward, the blonde woman approached, her kiss equally tender, adding to the intimate exchange.

You couldn’t help but cringe at the sight, the display of affection feeling overly intimate and uncomfortable.

Alexia escorted them to the door, bidding them farewell with playful pats and a cheeky slap on each of their butts.

You once again cringed at the sight.

Once Alexia closed the door, she turned back to you with a smug, challenging grin.

“Can you please pay so I can get back to work?” you said, trying to keep your tone steady but feeling your frustration simmering.

“Yes, of course,but first I a gift for you” Alexia replied,she walked over to the kitchen table, picked up the bouquet of white roses, and handed them to you with an almost mocking flourish.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a surge of annoyance. “I don’t want it,” you said flatly.

Alexia’s smirk didn’t waver. “Fine. I’ll just give it to the girl I’m seeing tonight.”

“Yeah, do that. Now, please pay,so I can go back to work” you insisted, your patience wearing thin.

“Don’t you want to relax a bit? There’s a couch over there, or maybe something more comfortable—like my bed?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“That’s why you wanted the flowers delivered? To lure me into your bed?” you snapped, your anger boiling over.

“Maybe,” she said, her tone smug and unrepentant, and that was the breaking point.

“So, you had me deliver these flowers, made me wait outside while you were fucking two women, and now you’re trying to bribe me with a bouquet to get me into bed?” you demanded, your voice rising with each word.

“Exactly,” she said, her demeanor unshaken. “I wanted to show you that I can have any women I want. I just had an incredible night with two women. No one can resist me, so why do you?”

You were fuming, your words coming out sharp and hurtful. “"Listen closely, Alexia, because I’m only going to say this once. I would never sleep someone like you. You’re selfish, arrogant, and unbearably overconfident. You think no one can resist you because of your looks or your celebrity status, but that’s a mistake. People are drawn to the idea of being with a celebrity, not to you as a person. They use you just as you use them. You’re nothing more than a lonely woman who sleeps around because you lack meaningful connections. Your allure may attract attention, but it’s clear you have no real relationships. You’re just filling a void, and that’s not something I’d ever want to be a part of. You are pathetic.”

You locked eyes with her, every word stinging. “Stay away from me.”

Alexia’s expression shifted from smug to shocked, her face falling. Her eyes glistened with hurt as she stared at the floor.

“Um…okay… voy a buscar mi billetera. Vuelvo enseguida.” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly as she turned away quickly. (I’m just going to get my wallet. I’ll be right back)

As you watched Alexia turn away, a pang of regret began to sink in. You realized that your outburst might have been fueled more by your unresolved feelings about your ex than by anything Alexia had done.

The way she carried herself, her bravado, and her seeming lack of genuine connections struck a nerve, bringing your past frustrations to the surface.

You could see how your words might have been more a reflection of your own pain and disillusionment than a fair judgment of her.

Even though some of what you said was truthful, the intensity of your anger revealed how deeply you were affected by your own experiences.

Alexia returned with the payment, handing it to you with a subdued “You can keep the change.” Her voice was soft, her usual confidence replaced by a vulnerable quietness.

You took the money, nodding curtly. Without another word, you turned and left her apartment, heading back to the flower shop with a heavy heart.

——

For three days, Alexia hadn’t shown up to the store, and the gnawing guilt was becoming harder to ignore.

You tried not to dwell on it, but it lingered in the back of your mind. The shop felt quieter without her presence, and the longer the silence stretched, the more you felt the weight of your actions. You knew it wasn’t just a coincidence—your outburst had driven her away.

Carmen noticed it too. On the third day, as the two of you were arranging flowers for a new display, she finally spoke up.

“Has Alexia said anything to you?” she asked, her voice carrying a hint of worry.

You shook your head, not wanting to meet her eyes. “No… Why?”

“It’s just strange, isn’t it? Alexia not coming by for this long, especially when she’s still in Barcelona. It’s… odd,” she said, glancing at you carefully.

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you. Carmen was right—Alexia had been a regular at the shop, her visits frequent and, despite her cocky attitude, somewhat predictable.

You tried to focus on the flowers in your hand, but the words hung heavy on your tongue.

“Did something happen?” Carmen asked softly, her voice more knowing than questioning.

At first, you tried to brush it off. “Nothing happened,” you mumbled, but Carmen raised an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. You sighed, knowing there was no point in lying.

“Alright… something did happen,” you admitted, setting the flowers down. Carmen leaned in slightly, her attention fully on you.

“She’s been… acting a certain way ever since I met her. You know, making these dirty jokes, flirting nonstop, doing things to get a reaction out of me.” You hesitated, unsure if you should tell her the rest, but Carmen waited patiently.

“She—uh—made out with someone in front of me while staring right at me,” you continued, feeling the irritation rise again as you remembered that morning. “But it wasn’t just that. When I went to her apartment for her flowers delivery, there were these two women at her apartment. She made me wait outside while she was… busy with them. Then she gave me some stupid roses, trying to get me to sleep with her.” The words spilled out faster now. “That’s when I snapped.”

Carmen looked shocked, her brows furrowing in surprise. “And what did you say?”

You hesitated again, but Carmen gave you an encouraging nod, so you told her the whole truth. “I basically told her she was selfish, cocky, and overconfident. That people only used her because she’s a celebrity, and she’s just a lonely woman who sleeps around because she has no real connections.” As the words came out, you cringed, realizing just how harsh they had been.

Carmen stared at you for a moment, processing everything. Then, she let out a soft sigh, shaking her head. “Wow… that’s… a lot,” she said slowly. “I understand why you blew up, honestly, with how she was acting. Alexia can be… well, a little much. But those words?” Carmen hesitated, glancing at you sympathetically. “I think they might’ve hurt her more than you realize.”

You scoffed lightly, though not out of amusement. “Hurt her? Carmen, she was literally flaunting two women in my face like it was some kind of power move.”

“I know, I know,” Carmen replied gently, “and that’s exactly why I think she was hurt. Look, Alexia may put on this big, confident show, but I’ve known her for a while. Underneath all of that, she’s a lot more sensitive than she lets on.”

You frowned, processing Carmen’s words. “She didn’t seem too sensitive when she was throwing those women in my face.”

“She’s hiding behind it,” Carmen said, shrugging slightly. “People act like that when they’re trying to protect themselves. Not saying it excuses her behavior, but it explains it. She’s not used to people seeing past the surface.”

You slumped against the counter, feeling torn between your anger and guilt. “I don’t know… maybe I took it too far. She just reminded me so much of my ex. It’s like I wasn’t just yelling at her, but at him too.”

Carmen smiled softly, her eyes warm with understanding. “Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. Look, I get it. Sometimes old wounds can make us lash out at the wrong people. Alexia just happened to push the wrong buttons.”

You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “What should I do? I can’t just pretend nothing happened.”

Carmen chuckled softly, patting your shoulder. “I’d say maybe you owe her a conversation. But don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re both adults, and you’ll figure it out. Trust me, Alexia’s tough, but she’s not as unbreakable as she pretends to be.”

She gave you a playful nudge and added with a smirk, “Besides, you know what they say about love and hate, right? Sometimes they’re closer than you think.”

You rolled your eyes at Carmen’s teasing, but deep down, her words gave you a lot to think about.

——

Two days after your conversation with Carmen, Alexia finally made her reappearance.

You were busy assisting a couple of clients when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed her walk into the shop.

She carried a bouquet of flowers in her hand, and for a brief moment, the world outside your conversation with the clients seemed to fade away.

The air felt heavier with her presence, but at the same time, the absence of the usual playful energy she brought with her was unmistakable.

The store had felt quieter without her, and the weight of the silence between you two was something you could no longer ignore.

You had driven her away. That much was clear.

You noticed Alexia standing by the counter, her eyes fixed on you.There was none of her usual cocky confidence.

Her posture was more reserved, even hesitant. When you finished with the clients and they finally left, it was just the two of you in the shop, the tension thick in the air.

She took a step closer, her movements slower than usual. “Hola, guapa,” she greeted softly, her voice noticeably different.

Gone was the teasing arrogance you had grown accustomed to. Instead, it was quiet, almost vulnerable.

“Hola,” you replied, matching her tone. You weren’t sure what to expect from her, but this... this wasn’t it.

She handed you the bouquet—blue hyacinths. The flowers of apology. Alexia had remembered.

“These are for you. I... I wanted to apologize for how I acted. What I did was wrong, and I’m really sorry,” she said, holding your gaze, her eyes filled with sincerity.

You took the flowers, their fragrance soft and delicate, but their meaning hit you harder. ��Thank you, Alexia. I, um, I need to apologize too. My words that day were... I shouldn’t have said all of that. I was just really angry and—” You began to ramble, but Alexia gently interrupted you.

“No, don’t apologize,” she said, shaking her head. “You had every right to be upset. I made you wait, wasted your time, and I... pushed you too far. I’ve been making things difficult for you since day one. I made you crazy, though not exactly the way I hoped,” she added with a light laugh, trying to keep things casual. But as soon as the words left her lips, she grimaced, regretting the joke.

Before she could apologize for that too, you smiled—a small, genuine smile.

Alexia froze for a second, her eyes widening in disbelief. “What?” you asked, confused by her reaction.

“You smiled,” she repeated softly, her voice a mixture of awe and surprise.

You raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“Nunca sonríes. Bueno... no hacia mí, de todos modos. Así que sí, estoy un poco sorprendida en este momento,” she said, as if it was the most mind-blowing revelation she’d ever had. (You never smile. Well... not at me, anyway. So, yeah, I’m kind of shocked right now)

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, Alexia, you’re ridiculous.”

But Alexia’s expression softened even more, her eyes full of warmth as she watched you laugh.

“And now you’re laughing too? Wow, a smile and a laugh in the same conversation? I must be the luckiest person alive,” she said, playfully over-exaggerating her excitement.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you said again, though your heart wasn’t in it. Instead, you were secretly touched by her joy over such a small thing.

You brought the bouquet to your nose, inhaling the sweet fragrance as you studied her face.

Alexia’s gaze softened even further. “You have a beautiful smile, you know that?” she said quietly, the sincerity in her words catching you off guard.

You felt your cheeks warm under her compliment, and you quickly shook your head. “Alright, let’s not push your luck,” you said, still smiling despite yourself.

Alexia’s nervousness seemed to ease at your reaction, and she hesitated for a moment before holding out her hand. “So... am I forgiven?”

You pretended to consider it, watching the subtle anxiety creep back into her expression. Finally, you nodded. “You’re forgiven.”

A visible sigh of relief washed over her as she pumped her fist in a small victory. “Yes!” she whispered under her breath, her joy almost contagious.

She then extended her hand to you, a playful glint in her eye. “Dado que estoy perdonada, creo que deberíamos empezar de nuevo. Una pizarra limpia, ¿sí?” (Since I’m forgiven, I think we should start over. Clean slate, si?)

You blinked, surprised at her gesture, but after a brief moment, you took her hand in yours. Her grip was firm but gentle, her skin warm and soft. “Alright,” you agreed, amused by the formality of it all. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Soy Alexia,” she said with a grin, shaking your hand like it was the first time you’d ever met. “Encantada, Y/N.”

The absurdity of the moment made you both smile. It was corny, yes, but endearing in a way you hadn’t expected.

For a brief second, as you shook hands, you found yourself getting lost in her hazel eyes. There was a softness there, a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.

She wasn’t just the flirtatious, cocky woman you had met. She was... more. And for the first time, you found yourself truly seeing her.

Before anything could be said, the sound of Carmen entering the shop snapped you both back to reality.

You quickly let go of Alexia’s hand, almost like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t have.

“¡Ahh, Alexia! ¡Has vuelto!” Carmen exclaimed, pulling Alexia into a warm hug. (Aahh, Alexia! You’re back!)

Alexia returned the embrace, though she shot you a sheepish smile over Carmen’s shoulder.

When they broke apart, Carmen affectionately pinched Alexia’s cheek before pulling her head down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Era hora, niña. La tienda ha estado demasiado tranquila sin ti provocando problemas.” (It’s about time, niña. The shop’s been too quiet without you stirring up trouble.)

Carmen’s eyes flicked to the flowers in your hand, and she raised an eyebrow at Alexia. “Hmm, jacintos azules. Buena elección” she remarked, giving Alexia a playful pat on the back before disappearing into the back room. (Hmm, blue hyacinths. Good choice)

Alexia laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck.

You smirked at her, your eyebrow raised. “So... did you cheat on us and go to another flower shop to buy these?”

Alexia’s laugh was light as she shook her head. “No way. I bought them here, I swear, you were not here. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a cheater,” she joked, her voice playful yet sincere.

For some reason, you believed her. As flirtatious and free-spirited as she was, Alexia didn’t seem like the type who would betray someone’s trust.

That thought settled something inside you. You found yourself smiling again as you looked at her, the distance between you both feeling much smaller now.

——

From that moment, things between you and Alexia shifted. While her flirting persisted, it became less cocky or overconfident, but still very much her.

But became a little more softer and kinder, making you laugh instead of feeling irritated. Carmen had been right; Alexia could be genuinely sweet when she chose to be.

You never mentioned your daughter to Alexia, thinking it best to keep that part of your life separate.

If your daughter knew you were in contact with her idol daily, she’d beg to come along. Besides, despite Alexia’s more bearable demeanor, you wouldn’t want your daughter around her.

Alexia’s habit of seeing a different girl each day remained unchanged, but each time you saw her with someone new or flirting, a pang of jealousy twisted in your stomach.

One day at the store, it was just you and Alexia. She was recounting her morning training session, and the conversation flowed effortlessly.

At one point, you were telling Alexia a very interesting story. Alexia was hanging on to every word, her focus entirely on you, until the door swung open and a strikingly tall brunette entered the store.

Alexia’s gaze snapped away from you, her head turning to follow the woman’s entrance. She was instantly fixated, her attention now fully captured by the newcomer.

The woman greeted both of you, her gaze lingering a bit longer on Alexia. Seeing that Alexia had completely shifted her attention, you sighed and stopped speaking.

You resumed your task, trimming the thorns off the roses. Meanwhile, Alexia continued to stare at the woman, her eyes practically devouring her.

You walked out from behind the counter to put the roses on display, and only then did Alexia seem to realize you were still there.

“Ay, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Please, tell me the end of your story,” she said, following you with an apologetic look.

You sighed, trying to downplay your irritation. The shift in Alexia’s focus from you to the beautiful woman stung more than you expected. “It’s okay. You can go talk to her,” you said, avoiding eye contact.

Alexia hesitated, clearly feeling guilty. “No, really, I want to hear the end of your story,” she insisted, her gaze flickering back to the woman who was still eyeing her.

Were you jealous? Maybe a little but you had been through similar situations before and were determined not to fall into the same trap. Protecting your heart was crucial.

Despite enjoying Alexia’s company lately, you felt it was wiser to keep things minimal and friendly, especially with the feelings you were grappling with.

“No, it’s fine. Go talk to her,” you said, walking away.

Alexia, although still feeling bad, couldn’t resist and moved toward the woman.

From your position at the register, you watched as Alexia approached her with a wide smile.

You saw them chatting, smiling, and occasionally touching each other’s arms. Each gesture twisted your stomach with unease.

Eventually, as you were counting the register’s money, Alexia and the woman came back to you. The woman greeted you again, and you felt Alexia’s eyes on you, but you focused on the woman instead.

“Serán 12 euros, por favor” you told her. Before she could reach for her wallet, Alexia placed her hand over the woman’s, stopping her. (That will be 12 euros, please)

“Está bien, cariño. Yo me encargo” Alexia said, her smile gentle as she handed you the money. The woman thanked Alexia with a kiss on the cheek, making you roll your eyes mentally. (It’s okay, cariño. I’ve got it)

You accepted the money and then gave Alexia her change, avoiding her attempts at eye contact.

The woman thanked you and prepared to leave but then turned back to Alexia. “¿Podrías esperar afuera unos minutos? Ya salgo” she said, smiling. Alexia nodded and watched her leave. (Could you wait outside for a few minutes? I’ll be right out)

Alexia turned back to you, remaining silent. You looked up. “What?” you asked, confused.

“What’s the end of your story?” Alexia asked, clearly eager to know how it concluded.

You sighed. “Alexia, the girl’s waiting for you,” you said, not looking at her.

“But I want to know the end!” she said, almost pleading, her tone earnest and insistent.

“Well, you would have known if you had been listening in the first place,” you replied, your voice carrying a note of frustration.

Alexia fell silent for a moment. “I’m really sorry, I just got… distracted,” she said, her gaze drifting toward the glass door where the woman was waiting.

“Yeah, I know,” you said flatly. Alexia remained silent, and your patience wore thin. “Alexia, can you go now? The girl’s waiting, and I have a lot of work to do,” you said, exasperated.

Alexia bit her lip, looking at you as if you had done something cruel. “Yes, I’ll go. I’m sorry,” she said.

She walked toward the front door, glancing back one last time before leaving.

Once she was gone, you let out a deep breath. Damn it, you were jealous that Alexia was going out with another woman. This couldn’t be happening, you were attracted to her.

——

“Absolutely, Mia can come to the store!” Carmen responded, her voice full of warmth and enthusiasm after you mentioned the possibility of Mia joining you at work.

“Thank you so much, Carmen! She’s going to be ecstatic. She’s been asking me nonstop about it,” you said, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

And that was the truth—Mia had been relentless, pestering you every day with the same question. You’d been avoiding giving her a straight answer, constantly making excuses.

Mostly because of Alexia, who also frequented the store daily, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the two crossed paths.

As you and Carmen continued chatting, Alexia walked into the store, just as she always did. She approached Carmen first, who was standing closer, greeting her with a soft “Hola” and two kisses on the cheek, as was her custom.

Then, something unexpected happened. Alexia moved toward you, her eyes locking onto yours, and for the first time, she greeted you the same way, leaning in to give you two kisses on the cheek.

She had never done this before—usually, it was just a simple “Hola guapa” paired with her usual soft yet cocky smile.

“Hola guapa,” she said, her familiar words bringing a sense of comfort.

“Hola,” you responded, managing a smile, feeling the last remnants of nerves from yesterday dissolve the closer she got.

She was standing so near to you, her height forcing you to slightly tilt your head up to meet her gaze.

“How are you?” she asked softly, her voice holding a gentleness that made your heart skip for a moment.

“I’m good, and you?” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You hated to admit it, but having her so close made you feel something—safe, but also a little flustered.

“Bien,” she said, pressing her lips together as an awkward silence started to settle between the two of you. You shifted slightly, unsure of what to say next. (Good)

Finally, you broke the silence. “Did you have fun with that girl last night?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips, hoping to lighten the mood.

Alexia’s smile faltered for a split second, and she hesitated before answering, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Um... no.”

Her answer took you by surprise, and you furrowed your brow in confusion. “No?” you repeated, not expecting that.

“No,” she said again, this time more firmly but still quiet. Her eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe? You weren’t sure.

“Did you find someone better then?” you joked, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk, trying to coax her back into her usual lighthearted mood.

But instead of laughing, her expression grew more serious. “No,” she whispered, and this time, her voice carried a weight that made you pause. “En realidad... me sentí muy culpable por lo que pasó ayer” (Actually... I felt really guilty about what happened yesterday)

You blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift in tone. “Guilty?” you repeated, the word hanging in the air between you two.

Alexia nodded, her gaze dropping momentarily before she looked back up at you, her eyes soft and sincere.

“About..you know..ignoring you yesterday,” she said gently. “I was out of line. I let myself get carried away,I let my... urges take over,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m really sorry. I know it probably hurt you, and that was never my intention.”

You stood there, processing her words, feeling the sincerity behind them. She wasn’t just apologizing; she was genuinely remorseful. You could see it in the way her eyes softened, the way her voice lowered with each sentence.

But despite her heartfelt apology, you hesitated. You weren’t sure if you could just forgive her so easily, not this time. It wasn’t the first time Alexia had done something impulsive, and you didn’t want to keep brushing it off like it was nothing.

“Alexia...” you started, unsure of how to continue. You bit your lip, avoiding her gaze for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts.

She took a small step closer, her expression pleading now. “Please, Y/N, I’m really sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I wasn’t thinking straight. You know me, sometimes I just act without thinking, but I would never want to hurt you.”

You sighed, crossing your arms as you weighed her words. “I get that, Alexia, but this isn’t the first time,” you said, meeting her eyes again. “You can’t keep doing things and expecting me to just... forgive you right away.”

She swallowed, her eyes glistening as if the weight of your words hit her hard. “I know... I know, and I hate that I keep messing things up between us. But please... this time, I mean it. I’ll be better. I promise.”

There was a long pause, both of you standing in the soft light of the store, the usual chatter and bustle around you fading into the background as you considered her words.

Finally, you sighed, shaking your head a little, feeling your resolve begin to waver. “It’s not that easy, Alexia. You can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay. I need to know you really mean it this time.”

“I do,” she insisted, her voice breaking slightly. “I swear to you, I’ll make it up to you. Just... give me one more chance, please.”

Another long pause. You could see the desperation in her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped slightly as if she was afraid you might walk away from her for good.

“Fine,” you finally said, though your voice was softer now. “But this is the last time, Alexia. I mean it. If you mess up again, that’s it. I won’t keep forgiving you.”

Alexia’s face lit up with a mix of relief and joy, and before you could react, she squealed and wrapped her arms around you, lifting you off the ground slightly. You let out a small squeal of surprise, not expecting her to hug you so tightly.

“Thank you, thank you!” she cried, setting you back down but not letting go just yet. “I swear, it’ll be the last time I do something stupid. I promise.”

You couldn’t help but smile, though you tried to hide it. “The last time, Alexia,” you warned, pointing a finger at her sternly.

She nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, the last time,” she repeated, still grinning. Then she gave you a pleading look.

“Now, will you finally finish the story you were telling me yesterday? I’ve been dying to hear the end.”

Just as you were about to tell her, the door chimed and a few customers entered the store. Carmen shot you a knowing look, subtly signaling for your attention.

“Another time,” you said with a sigh, gently patting Alexia’s cheek before walking away. “Work calls.”

Alexia watched you go, her eyes following your every move, and a huge smile spread across her face.

But as she stood there, a strange feeling stirred in her stomach. Something unfamiliar, something she couldn’t quite place.

She shook her head, brushing off the sensation as nothing more than hunger. With a shrug, she pulled out her burner phone, scrolling through her contacts before texting one of the many girls in her phone, asking if they wanted to come over later.

——

“Are you excited to spend the day with Mommy?” you asked your daughter as you walked to the store one morning.

“Yes!” she cheered, bouncing with excitement.

Some days had passed since Alexia’s latest apology, but things had remained mostly the same.

She continued to visit the store every day, buying flowers for whichever woman she was with at the time.

Her flirtation remained gentle and tender, but something had shifted, though you couldn’t quite pinpoint what.

She frequently complimented your looks, outfits, and hairstyles, which you appreciated, even though it was rare for her to show this side of herself.

Despite this, she still made occasional risqué jokes about her various partners—and even you.

Two days ago, Alexia had been recounting a dinner she went to with friends and handed you her phone to show you pictures of the restaurant and the food. Unfortunately, she opened the “wrong album.”

You were shocked to see numerous pictures of naked women and nearly threw the phone back at her.

Alexia looked puzzled at your reaction but quickly masked it with a smirk as she glanced at her phone.

She began scrolling through the explicit pictures again, her eyes glinting with amusement.

Biting her lip, she seemed to savor the memories associated with each image, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she relived the moments she had captured.

“This is my special album,” she said with a teasing bite of her lip. “When I’m traveling and feeling lonely in a hotel room, it’s nice to have some… interesting pictures to look at.”

You made a face of disgust.

She leaned in, smirking. “Por favor, no me digas que nunca has enviado o recibido fotos como estas.” she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she propped her elbow on the counter. (Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never sent or received pictures like these)

“That’s none of your business,” you said, feeling your face flush.

“Oooh, you didn’t deny it, and your face is all red. You’ve definitely sent some,” she said with excitement.

With a cocky grin, she added, “I can’t wait to add yours to this album. It would make it so much more interesting…and beautiful.”

You looked at her in disgust and gently pushed her face away with your hand.

“In your dreams,” you said, smiling despite yourself. Over time, her flirting and joking were becoming less bothersome.

“You know what they say: never give up on your dreams,” Alexia said smugly. “Y me conoces lo suficientemente bien como para saber que nunca lo haría. Si lo hiciera, no sería la mejor futbolista del mundo.” (And you know me well enough to know that I never do. If I did, I wouldn’t be the best woman footballer in the world)

You shook your head, amused.

“I can’t wait to see all the pretty flowers, Mommy!” Mia’s excitement was palpable as she bounced on her little feet, her eyes wide with anticipation. You looked down at her, your heart warmed by her enthusiasm.

You had chosen this particular day for Mia to accompany you, carefully planning to avoid a potential encounter with Alexia.

Alexia had informed you the day before that she would be away from the store due to a demanding schedule of training, interviews, and a photoshoot.

You knew that if Mia were to see Alexia, she might freak out since she’s basically her hero.

While Alexia was known to be good with kids—something you’d observed in several videos—her frequent appearances with new partners and her tendency to be very touchy and affectionate in public could have made the situation awkward for Mia.

Your daughter’s inquisitive nature would surely lead to a barrage of questions, which you wanted to avoid.

“This time, I want to pick my flower of the week, Mommy, okay?” Mia asked, stretching her arms up towards you, signaling that she wanted to be picked up.

“Of course, sweetheart,” you responded with a soft smile, bending down to scoop her up. She nestled her head against your shoulder as you lifted her, her small arms wrapping around your neck.

You could feel the warmth of her little body and the soft rustle of her breath against your skin.

Together, you made your way to the store, ready to enjoy a day filled with flowers and moments of bonding, free from the concerns that Alexia might have brought.

——

“Mia, would you like to help me put the flowers in the pot?” Carmen’s voice was warm and inviting.

“Yes!” Mia responded immediately, her excitement evident as she bounded off with Carmen.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm as they disappeared around the corner, heading towards the back of the store.

The morning had been smooth and joyful. Mia had been gleefully exploring the shop, sniffing flowers and marveling at their colors. There had been no tantrums—a welcome relief—and you’d promised her she’ll be back at the store if she continued to behave so well.

As you worked on arranging bouquets for display, the bell above the front door jingled, signaling a new customer.

Looking up, your heart nearly stopped when you saw Alexia walk in. But she wasn’t alone—she had her arm casually draped around another woman, a relaxed smile on her face.

“Hola, guapa,” Alexia greeted you, approaching the counter. She momentarily released the woman to give you a quick kiss on both cheeks before resuming her hold around the woman’s neck.

Panic flared in your chest. “What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to keep your tone calm but failing to mask the urgency. Your eyes darted towards the back of the store, hoping Mia was still preoccupied.

Alexia’s eyebrow arched, catching your unease. “Is that how you greet me now?” she teased with a playful smirk. “Oh, and this is Isabel,” she said, introducing the woman. “Isabel, ella es Y/N.” (Isabel, this is Y/N)

You forced a polite smile at Isabel, offering a quick nod before turning back to Alexia. “You said you wouldn’t be here today. You said you will be busy all day.”

Alexia chuckled, clearly amused by your flustered state. “Plans changed. My photoshoot was canceled, so I thought I’d drop by and visit my two favorite flower girls.” She winked at you, trying to keep the gesture hidden from Isabel. “Where’s Carmen?”

Your heart raced. “She’s not here—she’s out on a delivery,” you lied quickly, hoping to get Alexia to leave. You were certain she would linger if she found out Carmen was still around.

Alexia gave you a curious look but shrugged. “Alright then...”

“Right, well, it was nice seeing you, and Isabel, fue un placer conocerte.” you said, trying to wrap things up. “I’m sure you have other plans.” (Isabel, it was lovely meeting you)

Alexia’s eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. “You’re acting strange. Are you trying to kick us out?” she asked with a grin.

“No, no, it’s just... you know, I’m sure you both have things to do,” you replied, glancing over her shoulder towards the back of the store again.

Alexia’s smirk didn’t fade. “Yeah, we do,” she agreed, looked down at Isabel.

She gave Isabel’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before intertwining their fingers and gently kissing the crown of her head.

A pang of discomfort hit you at the sight, but before you could react further, the sound of Mia’s voice cut through the tension.

“Mommy!”

You closed your eyes briefly, wishing you could rewind, you were so close…

When you opened them, Mia was rushing towards you, her small hands proudly holding a flower.

“Mommy, look! I found my flower of the week” Mia exclaimed, stopping right beside Alexia and Isabel, her face beaming with pride as she showed off her flower.

Everything seemed to slow down as Alexia’s gaze fell upon the tiny figure next to her. Her expression shifted dramatically from casual amusement to shock, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open.

It was as if she had been struck by a sudden realization.

Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke. “Mommy?” she asked, her tone full of disbelief. “Tienes una hija?” Her words were tinged with a mix of surprise and confusion, as if the idea of you having a child was completely foreign to her. (You have a daughter?)

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat.

Mia, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, suddenly shouted in recognition, “Alexia!” Her high-pitched voice echoed through the store as she threw herself at Alexia’s legs, hugging them tightly.

Alexia stood frozen, her shock palpable as she looked down at Mia clinging to her. Her usual composure was replaced by a look of utter bewilderment.

“I love you so much! You’re the best player in the whole world!” Mia declared, her tiny arms wrapped around Alexia’s legs.

Alexia’s expression softened at Mia’s affection. Though still stunned, there was a growing tenderness in her eyes.

Slowly, she reached down, placing her hand gently on the back of Mia’s head and stroking her hair. “Thank you,” she said softly, still grappling with the surprise.

You stepped in and carefully pried Mia away from Alexia’s legs, lifting her onto your hip.

Despite Mia’s tight grip, you managed to ease her into your arms, hoping to shield her from the awkwardness of the situation.

“Mommy, look, it’s Alexia! We see her on TV when she plays her games!” Mia said excitedly, pointing at Alexia, who remained visibly shaken.

Alexia’s gaze turned to you, her eyes searching for answers. The realization that you had kept such a significant part of your life from her was evident in the way she stared, her expression a mix of hurt and confusion.

“What’s your name, pequeña?” Alexia asked Mia gently, her disbelief still evident.

“Mia!” your daughter responded enthusiastically.

Alexia offered a strained smile. “Nice to meet you, Mia. I’m a friend of your mommy’s.”

Mia gasped and turned to you with wide eyes. “Mommy, you never told me Alexia was your friend!”

Alexia gave a quiet chuckle, though her gaze remained fixed on you. “Y tampoco me contó nada sobre ti.” she added in Spanish, hoping that you daughter does not understand, her tone more serious now. The subtle accusation in her words was clear, despite her attempt at a smile. (And she never told me about you either)

Sensing the tension, Mia pointed to the intertwined hands of Alexia and Isabel. “Is that your girlfriend?” she asked innocently.

Your face flushed with embarrassment. “Mia...” you began, but Alexia merely laughed, her discomfort evident.

“Mia, it’s not polite to ask those questions,” you said gently but firmly.

“Sorry, Mommy... Sorry, Alexia,” Mia pouted, quickly shifting her focus to something else. “Did you hurt yourself?” she asked Alexia with concern.

Alexia looked puzzled. “No, why?”

Mia pointed to her own neck. “You have a bruise here,” she said matter-of-factly.

Your heart sank as you noticed the hickey on Alexia’s neck. Her eyes widened, and she quickly covered it with her hand, her cheeks flushing slightly.

“Oh, that? Yeah, I... got hurt playing,” Alexia mumbled, clearly flustered. Isabel, standing silently beside her, smirked at the scene.

You suspected Isabel might not understand the full conversation but clearly grasped what was happening right in this instance.

Mia nodded solemnly. “You need to be more careful, Alexia. Right, Mommy?”

You couldn’t help but smile at Mia’s concern, which mirrored your own words of caution. “Yes, sweetheart. Alexia needs to be more careful.”

Alexia met your gaze, understanding the underlying message. She gave a small nod, acknowledging the reprimand.

“You’re right, Mia. I’ll be more careful,” Alexia said, her tone softening as she pinched Mia’s cheek, eliciting a giggle from your daughter.

The moment of levity was short-lived as an uncomfortable silence settled over the group.

Mia, in her innocent way, suddenly blurted out, “Mommy says you’re hot!”

Your face flushed with embarrassment at Mia’s remark.

Alexia’s smirk widened, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, really?” she teased, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

While watching a game on TV with Mia the other day, you might have commented that Alexia looked "hot" when she appeared on screen, noting her sweaty, glistening skin, messy hair, and visible abs, completely forgetting that Mia was nearby and could hear you.

You felt your face grow even warmer. “Mia, that’s not... what I meant,” you stammered, but Mia continued, oblivious to the embarrassment she was causing.

“You said it when we were watching her game, Mommy. You said, ‘Oh my god, she’s so hot,’” Mia mimicked your tone perfectly, making you wish you could disappear.

Alexia’s smirk grew, clearly relishing the moment. “Well, I guess I should be flattered,” she said playfully, enjoying your discomfort.

“I meant... you were playing really well,” you said, trying to explain, but Alexia wasn’t letting it go easily.

“Oh, is that what you meant?” Alexia’s teasing tone only heightened your embarrassment.

Before you could respond, Mia added, “Mommy, does that mean Alexia needs to take her clothes off since she’s hot?”

You groaned inwardly, your face now burning with mortification. “Mia! No, that’s not what I meant at all,” you said, your voice rising as you struggled to regain control.

Alexia tried to stifle her laughter. “It’s okay, Mia. I’m fine just the way I am,” she said, winking at your daughter, which only added to your embarrassment.

Clearing your throat, you tried to redirect the conversation. “Alright, Mia, say goodbye to Alexia. She has things to do, and you need to get back to Carmen.”

Alexia’s brow furrowed. “So Carmen is here? Not on a delivery?” she asked, realizing you had lied.

“Yeah…” you admitted, and Alexia nodded, accepting it.

Mia reached out her arms towards Alexia, who looked at you for permission. You nodded, and Alexia took her in her arms.

Mia gave Alexia a warm farewell hug, her small arms encircling her. “Goodbye, Alexia. And goodbye to Alexia’s girlfriend,” she added, waving at Isabel, who responded with a courteous smile.

You let out a sigh, reflecting on the unintended label Mia had given Isabel.

As Mia turned and ran back towards Carmen, Alexia’s expression shifted from playful to serious.

She turned to you, her eyes lingering with unspoken questions. “We’ll talk tomorrow,please come to my place..you know where it is” she said softly, the weight of her words evident in her tone.

You nodded, feeling the gravity of the conversation that awaited you. There was a lot left unsaid, especially now that Mia’s existence was no longer a secret.

As Alexia and Isabel left the store, you let out a long, weary sigh. You leaned against the counter, feeling emotionally drained from the unexpected turn of events. Tomorrow’s conversation with Alexia loomed large, and you knew it would be a challenging discussion.

And, of course, you’d need to have a talk with Mia about the importance of boundaries—and perhaps a bit about keeping some things to herself as well.

——

The next morning, you headed to Alexia’s apartment with Mia in tow. Since it was a Sunday, María was off, and Carmen was visiting family, you had no option but to bring Mia along.

When you told Mia about the visit, she was ecstatic and insisted on wearing the Alexia jersey you had bought her a few weeks ago. She proudly put it on, her excitement evident.

As you arrived at Alexia’s door, you crouched down to Mia’s level. “Okay, Mia,” you began gently, “let’s remember to behave today, alright?” Mia’s face lit up as she nodded eagerly. “Yes, Mommy, I’ll behave,” she promised, and you planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

With a mix of nerves and anticipation, you knocked on the door. The last time you were here, Alexia had been with two other women, and the encounter had ended on a sour note. You were hoping this visit would go more smoothly.

Alexia answered the door almost immediately, her face breaking into a warm smile. “Hola, guapa,” she greeted you, her tone soft and inviting.

You returned the greeting with a smile, “Hola, Alexia.” From beside you, Mia’s small voice piped up with an enthusiastic “Hola, Alexia,” and she waved excitedly.

Alexia’s smile widened as she crouched down to Mia’s level. “Hola, nena,” she said affectionately, lifting Mia into her arms.

Mia wrapped her small arms around Alexia’s neck. When they separated, Mia proudly pointed to her shirt and said, “Look, Alexia, I’m wearing your shirt today!”

Alexia’s eyes twinkled with delight as she laughed softly. “Yes! That’s a fantastic choice,” she said, giving Mia a high-five, which Mia eagerly reciprocated.

You couldn’t help but smile at the heartwarming interaction between them.

“Come on in,” Alexia invited, opening the door wider and gesturing for you both to enter.

As you stepped inside, a small dog came bounding towards you, tail wagging furiously.

“Puppy!” Mia squealed, dropping to her knees as the dog jumped up and began licking her face. Mia’s laughter filled the room, and you found yourself laughing too.

You joined Mia on the floor, gently petting the playful puppy. “This is Nala,” Alexia said, introducing the dog with a smile.

“She’s adorable,” you commented, reaching out to give Nala a gentle scratch behind the ears.

“Sí, igual que su mamá,” Alexia said with a smirk, adding a playful tone in Spanish that made you look up at her and shake your head with a soft smile on your face. (Yeah, just like her mom)

“What that mean?” Mia asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“It means she’s as adorable as you are,” Alexia explained with a chuckle, ruffling Mia’s hair, which caused Mia to giggle even more.

Afterward, Alexia offered you both drinks, and Mia made her way to the living room, settling in to watch TV while Nala curled up contentedly on her lap.

You and Alexia sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee in silence. You weren’t sure how to start the conversation, but Alexia quickly took the initiative.

“So… you have a daughter,” Alexia said, glancing towards Mia.

“Yes,” you replied, nodding.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, confusion and hurt evident in her eyes.

You hesitated, struggling to find the right words. The truth—that you didn’t want Alexia near your daughter due to her reputation—seemed too harsh.

You looked away, avoiding her gaze as you fumbled for a response. Alexia seemed to understand your discomfort.

“You didn’t want me to meet her, did you?” she asked softly.

You didn’t respond, so she continued.

“I told you I wouldn’t be at the store this day, that’s why you brought Mia that exact day, right? Because you didn’t want me to see her?” Her voice held a trace of hurt.

You stared down at your coffee and nodded.

“And that’s also why you were so eager for me to leave? So I wouldn’t have the chance to meet her?” she persisted.

Once again, you didn’t speak, only nodding in confirmation.

“And you even lied about Carmen being on delivery duty to get me out of the store?” she asked.

You nodded again, meeting her gaze and seeing the hurt in her eyes.

“But why? I thought we were friends. I’ve shared so much about my life with you, and we’ve spent a lot of time together. Why keep Mia from me?” she asked, a mix of confusion and sadness in her voice.

“I... you know... you have a reputation. I didn’t want my daughter around you,” you admitted, noting the pain and disbelief on her face.

“Especially in the beginning, when we first met. You were insufferable and disrespectful, and I didn’t want my daughter exposed to that,” you continued.

Alexia nodded slowly, though her eyes still reflected hurt.

“I understand you wanted to protect your daughter from me,” she said. “I can be a lot at times.” Her voice carried a sad resignation.

You felt a pang of guilt seeing her so down, especially after witnessing how gentle and affectionate she was with Mia. You realized how wrong you had been.

“I’m really sorry,” you said, feeling deeply remorseful. Alexia reached across the table and took your hand in hers.

“No, don’t be. You’re a mother, and I understand that mothers will do anything to protect their children,” she said, her eyes meeting yours with a comforting warmth.

“Yes, and I was wrong. You were nothing but kind and loving towards Mia. As you can see, she absolutely adores you,” you told her with a gentle smile, which Alexia returned.

Her hand remained in yours, her touch warm and reassuring.

“So... what about Mia’s father or another mother?” Alexia asked cautiously, her tone tentative.

“Oh, the father isn’t in the picture anymore. He was terrible to me—cheated on me and left when he found out I was pregnant with Mia,” you confessed, feeling a wave of sadness.

Alexia shook her head in disapproval, her expression one of sympathy.

“That’s also why…” you started but trailed off.

Alexia’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Go on,” she urged gently.

You hesitated, knowing it was time to reveal everything and lay all the cards on the table.

“That’s also why I didn’t want you to know about her or meet her. You reminded me of him,” you began, and Alexia’s face showed clear shock, her eyebrows knitting together.

“He used to flirt with other women, even right in front of me. He was always so cocky and confident, never taking anything seriously,” you continued.

“When I snapped at you the other day, it wasn’t just about you—it was about him too. I used that moment to say everything I wished I’d said to him,” you added, your voice trembling as tears formed in your eyes, which you quickly wiped away, not wanting Mia to see you upset.

Alexia immediately stood up, gently pulling you with her.

“Mia, your mommy and I need to step into the bathroom for a moment. Is it okay if you stay here by yourself for a bit?” she asked Mia softly. Mia, absorbed in the TV, nodded without much interest.

Alexia guided you to her bathroom, closing the door behind you both. She enveloped you in a comforting embrace, your face nestled against her neck while her hands supported you—one at the back of your head and the other wrapped around your waist.

You let your tears flow freely, a release you hadn’t allowed yourself in a while. It felt cathartic to finally let everything out.

Alexia murmured soothing words into your ear, holding you close as you cried.

As you began to calm down, Alexia spoke softly. “You and Mia deserve so much more than that. I promise you, I’m not like him. I may be confident and a bit cocky, but I will never leave you. As long as you want me in your lives, I’ll be here.”

Her words warmed your heart. You pulled back slightly to meet her gaze. “Thank you,” you whispered, and Alexia gently rested her forehead against yours, offering a soft smile and cupping your cheeks.

The closeness made your heart race. Being this near to Alexia, after seeing her with other women, was a new and intense experience for you.

The memory of those other women made you pull back quickly, sniffing and smiling softly as you wiped your tears away.

“Thank you again, Alexia,” you said, drying your face.

Alexia smiled gently. “No need to thank me.” She then opened the bathroom door, and together, you both returned to the living room where Mia was waiting.

Alexia had convinced you to stay for lunch, and now the three of you were gathered around the kitchen table, enjoying bolognese pasta together.

Alexia and Mia were engaged in an animated conversation about football.

“Mommy said that one day, I’m going to be better than you,” Mia announced proudly, pointing her fork at Alexia.

“Did she now? Is that true?” Alexia asked, raising an eyebrow at Mia before turning her gaze to you with a playful smile.

“Yes, I did. Because it’s true, right, Mia?” you said, gently poking her sides. Mia giggled and looked up at you, her face glowing with joy.

“Yes, Mommy! I’m going to be the best when I grow up!” she exclaimed, and you couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.

“Mommy!” Mia squealed with laughter, trying to wriggle away as you planted more kisses on her giggling face.

Alexia watched the scene with a soft smile, that familiar warmth spreading through her stomach, the same feeling she’d experienced the last time she’d apologized to you.

After lunch, you and Alexia tackled the dishes together while Mia, worn out from all the excitement, napped peacefully in Alexia’s bedroom.

“You know,” Alexia started, her voice carrying a smug tone as she stood by your side, drying the plates. “Now it all makes sense.”

You glanced at her, confused. “What makes sense?”

Her smirk grew wider, and you could already feel the teasing energy coming. “You always gave me MILF energy,” she said, eyeing you up and down like she was enjoying a private joke.

You felt heat rush to your face, but before you could react, she was already grinning even more, leaning in like she had a secret to share. “Especially when you get all serious and bossy with me. God, I love it when you’re bossy,” she added, lowering her voice. “It’s so hot.”

You didn’t waste a second. You nudged her hard with your hip, splashing water in her direction. “Don’t make me slap you,” you warned her, but she only laughed harder, loving every second of this.

Alexia recovered quickly, her smirk firmly back in place. “And by the way,” she added, wiping a plate with a casual air, “don’t think I forgot about you calling me hot.”

You froze, glancing at her quickly. “I—I did not call you hot,” you said, trying to sound firm, even though you knew you were lying through your teeth.

She chuckled, the sound deep and amused. “Oh, really? That’s not what Mia said yesterday. Maybe we should wake her up and ask her again.” She made a move toward the hallway, clearly teasing, and you immediately stepped in, placing your hand over her mouth.

“Shut up,” you muttered, your face burning as she laughed under your palm. You could feel her lips curve into a grin as she brushed your hand off with ease, cockier than ever.

There was a brief moment of silence between you two as you continued with the dishes, but the tension was palpable. Then, out of nowhere, Alexia’s voice broke the quiet.

“You know I’m not giving up, right?” Her tone was playful but serious, the teasing edge never quite leaving.

You turned to face her, already knowing where this was headed. “Still not having sex with you, Alexia,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance.

Her eyes darkened with that familiar mischief. She stepped a little closer, the smugness practically oozing from her.

“Come on, you think I’m hot, don’t deny it. Mia even confirmed it. And don’t think I don’t notice the way you look at me,” she added, her voice dipping just enough to make you shift where you stood.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart skipped a beat. “I think you’re hot, you think I’m hot, why not just… be hot together?” She shrugged, her expression impossibly smug. “In a bed. Naked.”

Tired of her arrogance, you decided it was time to play her own game.

You sighed dramatically. “Okay,” you said, making it sound like you were giving in.

Alexia’s cocky grin faltered for just a second as her eyes widened, surprised by your sudden agreement.

You stepped closer to her, and for once, she seemed speechless, unsure of what to do with her usual bravado.

As you closed the distance, pressing yourself fully against her, you felt her body stiffen, her breath hitching.

You took her hands, placing them around your waist, dangerously close to your butt. Her eyes searched yours, confused, intrigued, and undoubtedly turned on.

Without breaking eye contact, you wrapped your arms around her neck, leaning in until your lips grazed the shell of her ear. “How about tomorrow night?” you whispered, your voice sultry and slow.

“You can pick me up from work… take me back here… and you can fuck me… all. night. long.” You paused after each word, letting the sexual tension linger between you.

You felt Alexia’s sharp intake of breath, her body instinctively reacting to your closeness.

The faintest moan escaped her lips, her face pressing into the crook of your neck as if she couldn’t control the heat rushing through her.

Her hands moved lower, finally squeezing your butt gently, and you could feel her struggling to maintain her composure.

“And you know what the best part would be?” you whispered, your lips barely brushing her skin, your fingers lightly tracing the back of her neck.

Alexia, still caught up in the moment, could barely manage a hoarse, “What?”

Her hands kept caressing you butt, her body betraying just how much she was enjoying the moment.

You resisted the urge to push her hands away, knowing full well you enjoyed it too. But you had a point to make.

You leaned in even closer, letting her feel your breath against her ear. “The best part is…” you paused, feeling her anticipation grow. “This will all be happening… in your dreams.”

And with that, you pulled away completely, leaving Alexia standing there, utterly stunned, her jaw practically on the floor.

You smirked, enjoying the rare moment where you had the upper hand. “I’m gonna go check on Mia,” you said casually, as if you hadn’t just left Alexia breathless and flustered.

Alexia stood there, unable to speak, her mind reeling from what had just happened. She had always been confident, always in control, but you had completely turned the tables on her.

She was used to being the one who teased, the one who left others speechless—but now, you had her feeling things she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Wow,” she finally muttered under her breath, her heart still racing. She had been with plenty of women before, but none had made her feel like this—none had gotten under her skin the way you just had.

The way your fingers had trailed down her neck, the soft whisper of your voice in her ear… it had her unraveling in a way she hadn’t expected.

That familiar warm sensation bubbled up in her stomach again, the same one she’d felt earlier at the table.

She could still feel the ghost of your touch on her skin as she hurried to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face in an attempt to cool herself down.

But the truth was, she was hot. You’d left her wanting more—and for the first time, Alexia wasn’t quite sure how to regain the upper hand.

——

“Thank you, Alexia,” you said as you got back to your apartment.

After your hot moment in the kitchen, Mia had woken up, and it was time to head home. Alexia insisted on escorting you, so she, Mia, Nala, and you all made the walk to your apartment together.

During the walk, Alexia and Mia chatted animatedly about everything and anything, their laughter and conversation filling the air until you reached your front door.

But Alexia also stayed silent with you.Only talking with Mia.

“Bye-bye, Alexia! I had so much fun with Nala. Can I see her again?” Mia asked, her little arms wrapped around Alexia’s shoulders as they both looked down at Nala.

“Of course, nena. We can definitely arrange another playdate if your mommy agrees,” Alexia said, glancing up at you with a hopeful look. You nodded in agreement.

“Okay, and I want to see you again too. You’re my best friend now!” Mia exclaimed, snuggling her face into Alexia’s neck. Alexia smiled and stood up, with Mia clinging to her like a koala.

“You’re my best friend too, nena” Alexia said softly.

“Mommy is our best friend too! We can’t forget her,” Mia suddenly said, as if realizing she had almost overlooked you. She pulled her face away from Alexia’s neck and stretched out an arm.

“Mommy, come join the hug too!” Mia said with innocent enthusiasm. You smiled warmly as you stepped into the group hug.

As Alexia’s free arm wrapped around your waist, you draped your arm around both of them, leaning your head on Alexia’s shoulder.

Alexia looked down at the two girls in her arms, and a deep sense of contentment washed over her. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

The touch of her lips sent a pleasant shiver through you. You looked up at her, smiling gently, and she returned your smile with equal warmth.

As the hug ended, Mia gave Alexia one last kiss on the cheek and a pat on Nala’s head before heading inside.

“Thanks again,” you said with a smile. “You’ve been so quiet with me. Did something happen?”

Alexia rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, you turned me on really badly, and now I have to go home and take care of it myself,” she said, a groan escaping her.

“Oh, come on. I’m sure you could call one of the women in your contact list, and she’d be at your place in ten minutes,” you teased.

“Yes, I could,” Alexia said with a smug grin, “Pero preferiría imaginarte conmigo en lugar de con otra mujer. Podría llamarla por tu nombre por accidente” (but I’d rather imagine you with me than another woman. I might accidentally call her by your name.)

“Okayyyy,” you said, laughing.

“I have a new goal,” Alexia announced suddenly.

“What’s that?” you asked, intrigued.

“My new goal is to take you on a date,” she said with a mischievous smile.

“So it’s not just about getting me into your bed?” you asked, amused.

“Bueno, sí, pero quiero hacer las cosas bien. Mi nuevo objetivo es convencerte de que salgas conmigo.”she clarified. (Well, yes, but I want to do things properly. My new goal is to convince you to go on a date with me)

“I’m curious to see how you plan to achieve that,” you said with a grin.

“I’ll treat you well and completely stop flirting with or looking at other women,” she said confidently.

“You? Stopping from flirting with other women? Alexia Putellas?” you said, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Sí, definitivamente puedo hacer eso.”she said, feigning offense. (Yes, I can totally do that)

“Sure…” you said, still unconvinced.

“Alright, let’s make a deal. If I don’t flirt with, sleep with, or even look at another woman for a month, you agree to go on a date with me,” she proposed, determination in her voice.

You considered it for a moment, knowing she might find it challenging. “Okay,” you agreed.

“¿De verdad? ¿No es solo otra broma?”she asked, surprised. (Really? It’s not just another joke?)

“No joke. One month, no women, and I’ll go on that date,” you confirmed, and she cheered.

“Genial! Bueno, ahora necesito ir a cuidar de mí misma, si sabes a qué me refiero.”she said with a suggestive wink and you laughed a little. (Great! Well, now I need to go and take care of myself, if you know what I mean)

“Bye, Alexia,” you said.

“Adios, guapa,” she replied, waving as she walked away.

#woso community #woso #woso soccer #woso appreciation #women’s football #futfem #fcb femení #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso one shot

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