#and i always think making myself write something longer than i usually would is a good exercise so im proud of that

[waitingona-mirabel]

Saturday, November 23 — The Final Labor: Based on the final task for the labors, write an AU featuring all your characters in a role. Choose an AU, set out a list of goals for yourself based on tropes within that AU (ex. a red shirt has to die if you’re doing Star Trek or someone in the group gets bitten by a zombie and doesn’t tell the rest if you’re doing an apocalypse), then write to your heart’s content! To count, each character must have a role and your tropes must be laid out beforehand.

SPORTS MOVIE AU

Inspired by High School Musical, Challengers, Miracle, that football book I read recently, that other amazing baseball romcom I read it's called You Should Be So Lucky, A League of Their Own TV Show, you get the idea

ROLES

Phineas: The announcer 

Tiana: Veteran of the team

Aquata: The scary opponent 

Annie: The sidekick

Mirabel: The underdog/protagonist

Lightning: The parent who doesn’t understand!

Smee: The opposing team’s asshole coach

Roz: The reluctant coach

Giselle: The love interest of the protagonist

TROPES

Down and out underdogs

For The Love Of The Game

Reluctant coach

Old rivalry

Unconventional coaching methods

Motivational speech

Star player gets injured

Rookie has a natural gift they never realized

The Game Winner

It’s Not My Dream, Dad, It’s Yours

Told with the framing device of a single game

Warnings: a minor injury, me TRULY messing up sports/soccer rules and terminology plz don't come for me, uhh complete lack of a setting is this high school is it college is it professional sports is it an adult rec league truly who knows!, anyway enjoy

LET'S GO!

Coin toss

The coin somersaulted through the air, almost as though in slow motion. 

“Tails!” called Aquata Triton, earlier than she was really supposed to, but Mirabel didn’t expect the Sharks to play fair.

The coin landed on Heads. Out of the corner of her eye, Mirabel could see the smallest hint of a smile from Tiana.

Luck had never really been on the Phoenixes’ side. And Coach Roz always said that was a good thing, because it meant they didn’t have to be reliant on it. But today, Mirabel was going to take every smidge of luck she could get.

180 Days Before The Big Game 

“No! Absolutely not. I’m retired,” Roz insisted, already rising out of her seat. 

Headmaster Chairmouse sighed and rubbed his temples. “Please, Coach. If you still blame yourself for what happened in ‘99…”

“It’s not about ‘99! But yes, that was entirely my fault-”

“It wasn’t, Coach. You took a calculated risk. That’s what coaches do. Just because it failed doesn’t negate twenty years of great work. A lot of that is luck. And besides— I’m not asking you to win a championship this year. I’m just asking you to give these kids a coach that gives a shit. Which I know you’ve got in you. Teach ‘em some skills, get ‘em trained up for the next year, and maybe by the time that rolls around, I can find someone to step in who actually wants to be there. Six months. Just give me six months.”

Roz didn’t really believe him. She was certain he was only asking out of desperation. But, even after all these years, it was hard to resist the call of the game that had once been her whole life…

“And I’ll throw in a bonus,” Chairmouse added. “Money that I’m sure you could use right now.”

“Chairmouse!” Roz said hotly, but his expression remained neutral. 

Chairmouse had her there, unfortunately. Two kids in uni…

“Fine,” Roz grumbled. “I’ll do it.”

Kickoff

“Aaaand, the Phoenixes will start off with possession, with Truitt taking the ball forward, now to Madrigal…”

Mirabel tried her best to block out the sound of Phineas Flynn, the ever-bombastic announcer. She knew he meant well, but his commentary always seemed to get her in her head. Mirabel just needed to focus. This was just like any passing drill. Just like practice.

“Madrigal passes back to Sommers on the left wing!”

Just like practice.

90 Days Before the Big Game

Mirabel didn’t really know what she was doing here. She wasn’t a soccer player, that was for sure. These weren’t even her cleats— they were Annie’s, and Annie had much bigger feet than her. Mirabel had to wear two extra pairs of socks just to keep them somewhat on her feet, and she was starting to think they might cut off her circulation.

WHEEEET!

The whistle pierced through the thick August air, and everyone jogged over to center field where Coach was waiting with her clipboard. She was an imposing woman, despite her short stature, in a pantsuit with a faded Phoenixes shirt. Annie had filled Mirabel in— she used to be the school soccer coach in the nineties, but after the team got completely walloped in the semifinals, she announced her retirement for good.

Apparently, she was back. Mirabel didn’t know if this was a good thing or a bad thing. But it didn’t matter much either way, because Mirabel didn’t expect to actually play for her. With any luck, Annie would. But Mirabel was just here for moral support.

“Alright, we’re going to start off with a simple passing drill. Pass and weave, pass and weave, you should all know this by now. Sound good?”

Everyone nodded. Even Mirabel nodded, though she had no idea what “pass and weave” meant. And she was too afraid to ask at this point. Again, she reminded herself. You’re not actually trying to make the team. Just don’t embarrass yourself too badly.

Thankfully, Mirabel was able to meander toward the back of the pack, since there were other girls much more eager to show off their skills. The drill didn’t look too complicated— one player would pass the ball to another, then they would switch places while the receiver passed to a third player. As long as Mirabel followed the other two, she would be alright.

Finally, it was Mirabel’s turn. Pass. Weave. Pass. Weave.

It only occurred to Mirabel by the third rotation that she was… kind of having a blast?

WHEEET!

“Okay, we’re going to try something new,” Coach interrupted. “We’re going to add in defenders.”

05 minutes

Mirabel, Tiana, and Anna didn’t maintain their momentum for long— within a few minutes, the Sharks had possession again, and Triton was charging down the field. Annie approached from her position behind the strikers, chasing Triton down and leaning into her to slide-tackle. Triton went tumbling to the ground, cursing all the way down.

“Bitch,” she muttered.

Annie just smiled and tapped the ball back over to Truitt.

88 Days Before the Big Game

Was that… Mirabel’s name at the top of the roster?

It didn’t make any sense. She’d never played organized soccer in her life; she just tapped a ball around the backyard with her cousins or with Annie now and then. Sure, Mirabel thought she’d actually made it through tryouts decently enough not to embarrass herself, but certainly not well enough to make the team. 

Maybe Coach really was crazy. Everyone was saying it at practice.

“No way…” Annie gasped, coming up behind Mirabel.

“I know,” Mirabel agreed. “Has to be a mistake.”

“What? No! You were amazing!” Annie insisted. “I just- well, I can’t believe Aquata Triton didn’t-”

As if on cue, Triton appeared, too, looking furious. She shot Mirabel a fiery look before storming off. Yikes…

Now Mirabel realized the problem. Aquata Triton had been the starting center striker for the past three years at Swynlake High. And now she was cut from the team, and taking her place was…

Oh. Oh shit.

25 minutes

Unfortunately, the Phoenixes didn’t hold onto the ball for long. By the twenty-five minute mark, it was becoming clear that they couldn’t win this game on luck alone. Maybe they wouldn’t win this game at all— although Mirabel was really trying not to let her mind go there. 

“At only twenty-five minutes into the game, everyone’s still looking pretty fresh,” Phineas Flynn commented as another Sharks striker tussled with the defense by the corner kick line. “But how long can they keep it up? There’s been a lot of talk about Coach Roz Peterson’s conditioning drills…”

85 Days Before the Big Game

“Alright, everybody listen up,” Coach announced, pacing the sideline as the newly-selected Phoenixes watched from the bleachers. Mirabel sat up straight, hands folded, like this was the first day of class. Some of the more seasoned veterans of the team lounged, skeptical of Peterson’s selection as their leader.

Truitt, the captain, leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her expression entirely inscrutable. 

“Odds are, I didn’t choose you because you’re the greatest player at this school. So get that idea out of your head right away, if it’s still in there,” Coach said bluntly. “I chose you because you seemed willing to put in the work. The hard, ugly, unglamorous work of conditioning your bodies and building up your strength. I don’t know if I’m taking this team to the championship. I’m probably not. But what I am hoping to do is set you up for success down the line, in years to come. So you may hate me for this, but just remember, you only get one year with me.”

Truitt’s shoulders betrayed the slightest movement. Was she disappointed that Coach was only sticking around one year? Everyone else seemed skeptical of her, or to think she was an unbelievable hardass.

Mirabel didn’t know how she felt. Scared, maybe.

“Alright, five laps around the field! Everybody go!”

Halftime

Roz glanced over at the Sharks’ bench, just in time to meet Smee’s gaze. Her eyes narrowed. While the players headed off to the locker rooms and doused themselves with water and Gatorade, the two coaches stared one another down.

Then Smee’s expression twisted into a smile, and Roz’s into a scowl. Absolutely not.

65 Days Before the Big Game

“I’m starting to think something is seriously wrong with her,” Annie commented as she and Mirabel approached mile four. “She’s got some kind of obsession with running.”

Today was a “long run,” which was different from the typical running-laps warmup. And it was different from the postgame-punishment-laps (which the Phoenixes had now experienced three times now— even after they’d won that third game. Apparently it wasn’t good enough for Coach Hardass).

“Well, soccer does involve a lot of running,” Mirabel pointed out, snickering. While she didn’t want to badmouth the coach, one look at her expression would tell the whole story. Mutual horror at Coach’s method had bonded Mirabel and Annie far more than anything else that had previously happened in their friendship.

“Y’all want the truth?” The voice came out of nowhere. Mirabel and Annie’s heads whipped around to see the captain behind them. 

Their eyes went wide. This was exactly what Mirabel had been trying to avoid. What if word got around? The new girl, who probably didn’t even deserve to be here, already complaining.

“I- we weren’t-” Mirabel stammered.

“It’s fine. I know Coach is crazy. Everyone does,” Tiana said breezily, which caused Mirabel and Annie to exhale cautiously. They didn’t let their guard down entirely, but… was their famously aloof captain actuallty going to be real with them about this? It looked like it. “It’s this weird rivalry she has with the Sharks’ coach. Apparently, they’d been the best in the league back in the nineties, always trading the title back and forth. And then something happened in ‘99. Not sure exactly what. I think someone got hurt, and the Sharks won in a blowout. Coach retired, and the Sharks have basically dominated the league ever since, while our team has been shit. I don’t know if she’s expecting a championship win, but I do know she’s determined not to let ‘99 happen again.”

And then Tiana was off, putting on the jets once again. Annie and Mirabel exchanged a glance. And Mirabel knew they were thinking the same thing.

Coach? Blaming herself?

It didn’t change how scared of Coach Mirabel was. But it did prove she was human.

Mirabel sped up, just a little bit. She could stand to push a little harder. Just a little bit.

48 minutes

“After a scoreless first half, we’re looking at a free kick right in the zone! Looks like this is Triton’s chance— she’s got an excellent scoring record on those.”

Mirabel knew Annie was fuming about that call. The Sharks had come running back onto the field with a vengeance, and only three minutes later Mirabel could count on both hands the number of penalties that should have been called. But it was Annie’s slide tackle that drew the whistle.

Mirabel joined the lineup. On a kick like this, it was all hands on deck, regardless of position…

“Tiwari dives for the ball and… a miss! The Sharks are on the board!”

The Phoenixes groaned as their opponents jumped all over Triton to congratulate her. But there wasn’t much time to mourn the loss of that point. Mirabel could feel Coach’s pensive stare from all the way across the field.

Then she looked in the other direction, where a pretty redhead was siting in the bleachers, giving her a thumbs-up. And that, combined with the righteous frustration with the penalty and the goal, was all Mirabel needed to get going again.

48 Days Before the Big Game

“Oh- my bad,” Mirabel apologized as she ran right into someone coming around the corner. The stack of books the girl had been carrying spilled to the floor, and Mirabel quickly knelt down to help pick them up. You would think weeks of training would make her less of a klutz, but it seemed like all hand-eye coordination completely left her body as soon as she stepped off the field. Or maybe she was just extra distracted today, by the Phoenixes’ seemingly unshakable losing streak.

When Mirabel reached for a book and the girl’s hand brushed hers, Mirabel looked up to see-

Oh. She was quite pretty, wasn’t she?

“I-” Mirabel stuttered.

“Sorry,” the girl said at the same time. They both giggled awkwardly. 

Mirabel blushed. “No, no, you’re good,” she said, studying the book. “Gabriel Garcia Marquez?”

“He’s my favorite. The worlds he creates…”

“I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t understand a lot of this book. But I thought the writing was really pretty,” Mirabel admitted, tripping over the word “pretty.” Oh, she was just hopelessly obvious, wasn’t she?

“It is really pretty,” the girl said, holding Mirabel’s gaze. “Sorry, I’m being rude. You’re Mirabel Madrigal, right? The new starter on the soccer team?”

“I- you know me?”

“Not really. But you are kind of famous now. At least around here. Apparently you’re the future of the team.”

The stars of the team, Tiana and all the others who had graduated now, had always felt famous to Mirabel. But she’d assumed that was because she and Annie were the only ones who paid attention to that stuff. Maybe not.

“Wow,” Mirabel said. “Uh, I’m sorry, I don’t think I got your-”

“Giselle,” she replied with a smile.

Giselle. It really did suit her, a name that sounded like singing.

“Nice to meet you, Giselle.” Mirabel held the book out, smiling shyly. 

“You can hold onto it,” Giselle said. “I’m sure I’ll run into you again.

And then she left Mirabel standing there, clutching the book to her chest, wondering what had just happened.

Something told her that everything was about to change.

62 minutes

Mirabel tried to steer her mind away from the other person she had thought might be in the crowd. The problem was that he might not, and that was really going to get her in her head. After all, the last time they had spoken, it had turned into a fight…

UMPH

“Aaand Madrigal’s down! That’s gonna leave a mark…” Phineas Flynn commented.

The ground hit Mirabel’s face as a Shark barrelled into her, and now she understood what people meant when they talked about “eating shit.” Well, whoever was watching in the crowd, they’d definitely just seen Mirabel embarrass herself.

But she picked herself up and chased after the ball, like she always did. There was no time to waste. 

37 Days Before the Big Game

The Phoenixes hadn’t lost every game. They’d tied the Gryphons and the Firebees, and even beaten the Tigers and the Lions. Granted, the Lions had all of their best players on the bench for that game since it was so early in the season and didn’t mean much. But it was still a win.

And then October happened, and the Phoenixes just. Kept. Losing. 

Mirabel was beginning to think it impressive. How could they be that bad?

She didn’t think they were that bad, after all. Tiana was a brilliant playmaker, and Annie was relentlessly quick. Tanya was a decent goalkeeper, too. But it seemed like every time they went out on the field, they made some improbable error, like shooting the ball into their own goal or running right into the referee. 

“We’re going to try something new,” Coach said as the Phoenixes stumbled into yet another practice, looking discouraged and exhausted from yet more conditioning. “I want you all to get out there and scrimmage. And don’t try to impress me. I’m not going to be watching. I’ll be in my office. Don’t even keep score. And don’t dictate positions. Pretend you’re eight years old and you don’t understand the rules of soccer.”

And then she was off. 

The Phoenixes stared at each other, as though unsure Coach was actually serious about that. But she disappeared into her office, just like she’d said she would. And then the blinds fell down, blocking her view out of the window.

“Alright, you heard her,” Tiana announced. “Scrimmage. No rules.”

Annie looked skeptical. “Shouldn’t we do some drills? Work on our passing?”

“Or our footwork, it was atrocious last season…”

The group descended into squabbling about what the real problem was, and Tiana looked like she was on the verge of giving up. That scared Mirabel. If they didn’t have Tiana taking charge… 

“Guys,” Mirabel began, but nobody listened to her. “Guys!” she tried again. “EVERYONE SHUT UP!”

The team froze, and now it was just Mirabel, looking a little bit terrified.

“What?” Tiana asked skeptically.

“Let’s just give it a chance.”

And, strangely, everyone… listened? They nodded and made their way out to the field, and Tiana even patted Mirabel on the shoulder and mouthed, Thank you.

Had Mirabel really just done that? She’d never seen herself as a leader, as someone who took charge. But everything was strange lately. She saw Giselle in the hallways and smiled at her. She got home late from practice and shoveled dinner in her mouth before cramming in as much studying as she could, barely seeing her father. And now, it seemed, she yelled at people at practice.

Mirabel didn’t know what to make of it. But she did know how to lace up her cleats and get back out there. 

70 minutes

The pressure was starting to mount. By Mirabel’s estimation, they were more than halfway through the second half of the game. Scoring was a tall order. Scoring twice was a taller order. But Mirabel was trying not to think about that. 

Coach always said not to look at the clock. That if you looked while you were ahead, you played cautiously or lazily. And if you looked when you were behind, you got panicked. Just breathe, Mirabel reminded herself.

“Hey,” Annie whispered, jogging over to her as they reset for a throw-in. “Just remember. Like we’re eight.”

And that day at practice came flooding back to Mirabel, the day Coach had abandoned them to play the most chaotic scrimmage they’d ever played. There was offsides and bunching and wildshots that had no chance of making it in the goal. And in the end, they’d all wound up lying on the ground, laughing harder than they’d ever laughed before. 

The Phoenixes had won after that practice, and it felt like a new beginning, even though they’d won once or twice before. 

The Shark threw the ball in, and Mirabel did something reckless that she rarely did: she leapt for the ball, positioning her forehead right under it, without much regard for where it was going after that. Mirabel trusted Annie to get it. And she did, charging down the field past the Sharks. 

It didn’t take long for the rest of the players to catch up, but one of those players was Tiana, and she was deadly in the end zone. When she slipped the ball past the goal line, the world seemed to erupt. 

Tied. With… actually, Mirabel had no idea how much time they had left. It was just like being eight years old, playing in the backyard.

25 Days Before the Big Game

“The good news is that we’re in contention for the divisional match, now that the Panthers are out,” Coach explained, crossing the word off of the whiteboard in the locker room. The team watched, laser-focused. 

“What’s the bad news?” Annie piped up. 

Coach looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well,when people say there’s good news, there’s usually bad news, too.”

“Oh…” Coach said, frown deepening. “Well, the bad news, I suppose, is that you shouldn’t get too excited. Anything can happen at any moment. We can only control the things we can control. Which is practice, practice, practice, and most of all…”

“Conditioning!” everyone groaned.

Coach smiled a rare, mischievous smile. “Now you’re getting it.”

84 Minutes

A single goal stood between the Phoenixes and the divisional title. The Sharks were starting to flag, and Mirabel knew, she just knew, that it would only take one perfect opportunity. She darted back and forth around the goal line, trying to give Tiana an opening to pass her the ball.

But that didn’t happen. 

The whistle blew, and an awful shriek pierced the air. 

“Truitt is down! Oh, that looked painful…”

Mirabel’s heart dropped, and she tore across the field toward her captain. “Tiana,” she breathed.

Tiana’s face was contorted in agony, and she held her knee tightly. “I’m okay,” she whispered, even though it was obvious that nothing could be further from the truth. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not,” she said. “It’s okay. We’re going to win this. We can do it.”

Coach was already making her way across the field, and Tiana just kept shaking her head. “No,” she mumbled. “I’m fine.”

But she wasn’t. When Coach helped Tiana to her feet, she could barely put weight on the knee she’d injured. She could barely walk, much less run. 

“Wait,” Tiana said, pausing to take her captain armband off and holding it out to Mirabel. “Here.”

Mirabel stared at Tiana in shock. The captain armband? But Mirabel was just a rookie, and there were plenty of other talented people on the team! “I can’t-”

“You can,” Tiana said through gritted teeth. “Do it for me.”

14 Days Before the Big Game

One match stood between the Phoenixes and the big game. If they won on Saturday, they were in. And it was all Mirabel could think about. Coach always said to go one day at a time, one practice at a time, one game at a time. To stay focused in the moment.

But all Mirabel could think about was Saturday. And the Saturday that could, maybe, follow.

“Mirabel? Are you even listening to me?” 

Mirabel’s eyes snapped up from the plate of spaghetti that she was shoveling into her mouth to meet her dad’s gaze. “Huh?”

He sighed. “That’s what I thought.”

“What?” Mirabel said, confused at his obvious irritation. “What is it?”

“I was saying that I think you’re a little too focused on this soccer thing. I know the plan was to get in shape before track season, but tryouts are coming up, and I haven’t seen you practicing.”

Mirabel’s eyes went wide. It was true. She’d been so focused on soccer that she hadn’t even thought about track. Or when she did think about it, she was thinking about how much more she liked soccer. Mirabel had only ever gotten into track because of her dad— because he’d been a track star, the incredible Montgomery “Lightning” McQueen, before an injury in college had ruined his career before it really got off the ground.

Maybe track wasn’t her dream after all. Maybe it was his.

“Dad…” Mirabel said hesitantly. “I might… want to stick with soccer.”

The hurt registered on Lightning’s face. “What? Since when?”

“Since… well, a while now. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Mirabel said quietly. “Look- if we make it to the divisional game, will you come? Then you can see what I’m talking about. If we don’t, I’ll get right back to training for track. But I really want you to see this.

But Lightning’s expression was inscrutable. “I’ll try,” he said. 

89 Minutes

Mirabel had no idea how much time was left. The whistle was going to blow at any moment, she knew. The pressure was on, the crowd was riotous, and time was ticking. Somewhere on the sideline, Tiana and Coach were watching. Out in the bleachers, Mirabel could see Giselle watching, too.

And then she locked eyes with him. Dad, Mirabel thought. 

A new energy seemed to infuse her, and Mirabel charged at Aquata Triton, who was racing down the field with the ball. Not so fast, Mirabel smirked at her silently. She pretended to miss a swipe for the ball with her foot, then quickly pulled the ball backward with her cleat just when Aquata had thought she’d won the mini-battle. The momentum did throw Mirabel off her balance, but she only hit the ground once she’d managed to tap the ball back to Annie, who charged forward with it. 

The crowd roared. Mirabel picked herself back up, ignoring the dirty look Triton had shot her, and raced after Annie to give her another opening. Annie expertly navigated the defense, practically running circles around them.

The goalie dove too early, and a defender closed in to block Annie from the net. But Mirabel had made it to the penalty line without anyone noticing her, and Annie passed her the ball.

Mirabel closed her eyes. She said a little prayer. 

“AND JUST AS THE WHISTLE BLOWS, MADRIGAL GETS THE JOB DONE!” Phineas Flynn announced, and once again, Mirabel was on the ground— but this time, it wasn’t her own doing. Mirabel’s teammates piled on top of her, a loud, sweaty, jubilant tangle of limbs. Mirabel wanted to stay in this moment forever.

2 Days Before the Big Game

“Giselle!” Mirabel jogged over to her in the hallway. “Here’s your book. Finished rereading it. Somehow.”

Giselle turned around, grinning. “I’m surprised you had time, with all the practices.”

“Me too,” Mirabel admitted. “I guess I make time for important stuff.”

“Good to know.” Giselle paused, once hand on the book, just looking at Mirabel. Her eyes seemed to sparkle in the artificial lighting of the hallway. “When’s the big game?”

“Two days.”

“Good luck.” Giselle kissed her on the cheek and walked away, and Mirabel just stood there, dumbfounded once again. 

Stoppage Time

The next thirty seconds built up slowly but steadily, pressure building like a firework getting ready to explode. They just had to hold off the Sharks until the whistle blew again, and that knowledge seemed to fuel the team with a new fire. They’d already done the hard work. They couldn’t lose now.

And when the whistle did blow, and Mirabel saw her father jump up off his seat and Coach Peterson throw her clipboard in a rare show of emotion and Tiana burst into tears, the world seemed to move in slow motion. Mirabel’s teammates crowded around her again and hoisted her onto their shoulders as the sun started to dip down, bathing everything in a beautiful golden light.

From her vantage point, Mirabel could see one more person she’d been looking for.

“Okay, okay,” Mirabel chuckled. “Put me down!”

And once her cleats hit the grass, Mirabel managed to get her jelly-legs to run to the bleachers, ignoring her exhaustion. She didn’t have to make it much further than that, because Giselle ran down the steps and kissed her while Mirabel’s teammates whooped.

It wasn’t a championship. There was no trophy. There wasn’t even a medal. But Mirabel didn’t care. She didn’t need a physical memento to remember this moment. She knew she could never forget it.

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[softtdaisy]

falling anyway / Aaron Hotchner

summary. hotch knows he shouldn't fall for the babysitter. but sometimes things are meant to be.

words count. 3 603

what to expect. fluffy and flirty, age gap but reader's age is not tell she's a student, jack is mentionned obivously

a/n. this is way longer that i thought it would be but i didn't want to say goodbye to this story, i want to write so many things about hotch and the babysitter so i hope you will love their story too 🥹

criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

There were different things that could make up for the terrible week you’ve spent.

Spending a chill day watching your favorite TV show. 

Seeing your friends for a coffee or a drink.

And taking care of Jack Hotchner was also a solution.

You’ve been babysitting Jack for six months now. You needed a new part-time job; Aaron Hotchner, one of your father’s colleagues, needed a new babysitter. The deal was done. 

You’ve never seen a kid so easy to take care of. Usually, you and Jack shared the same routine: you helped him with his homework, and he helped you make dinner. You would play some games and then show him a movie from your list of favorites from your childhood. Harry Potter? Done. Narnia? Too. Back to the future? To be done.

You were this close to calling him your best friend at this point. To be honest, you missed him when you weren’t babysitting him.

With Hotch’s job, your presence wasn’t so linear. When he had to leave for a few days, Jack was staying with the family. Days when he was still paying you. “It’s my fault you’re not working; I don’t want you to have financial issues,” he said when you fought to give him the money back. You felt like taking advantage of the situation, and you hated that. But you quickly learned that there was nothing you could do when Aaron Hotchner had decided something. 

Not that you really mind the whole commanding trait.

“I’m sorry to ask you that,” you heard Hotch say on the phone. From the noises around, you guessed he was in his car.

Your Friday night plan was to stay home and forget about your week. 

College was awful; you got bad grades in one of your favorite classes, and your date stood you up and ghosted you. But when Aaron Hotchner called you in a last-minute emergency, you found his plan way better than yours.

“This is an important dinner; I can’t excuse myself from going. I know it’s last minute, but…” You put him on speaker. His voice becomes a part of your get-ready playlist. 

“Aaron,” you interrupted him. His name always felt like candy on your tongue. One that you’re not allowed to have, making it taste even sweeter. “I’ll be there in twenty; is it good for you?”

Then there was a silence that made you wonder if he even heard you. Then two words. “Thank you,” and silence again after he hung up.

You barely ever had any discussion with Hotch since you started working for him. Apart from the classic news from life, you never said much, and neither did he.

Jack, on the other hand, was a heavy speaker. It was thanks to him that you learned things from Hotch’s life: how work was taking much of his time and how he was barely going outside of it, which team he supported, or what kind of music he played in the car—but only when Jack was there.

You could only guess what he told his father about you in exchange.

When you arrived at Hotch’s place, he was the first thing you saw. On the phone, he was leaning against his car. His open suit jacket was flying with the wind, opening to his muscular chest and dad bod you could see through his shirt. And thinking about that, you realized how cliché you were for dreaming about the father of the kid you were babysitting.

But you’ve been on that road for so long now that you didn’t know the path to go back. Nor did you want to take it.

When Hotch saw you, he gave you a very short smile. He put his hand up, asking you to wait for him. And you did. Of course you did. You tried to focus on something to not overhear what he was saying, but it was hard when his voice sounded like a melody in your head.

His “bye” sounded like a secret code, and you finally let yourself turn to him. “Thank you again for coming.” 

Hotch never really knew how to act around you. He was your boss, technically, but he couldn’t act as he was with the team. He didn't mean to sound too friendly or nice so you wouldn’t imagine things. He didn’t want you or your dad to hear that he was being flirty with his daughter or for Jack to lose you.

And this conflict was obvious in many situations. The way he moved his hand up showed he intended to shake yours before changing his mind and putting it on your shoulder. A greeting and thanking at the same time. 

“I should be the one to thank you,” you replied with a laugh. “I needed something to change my mind, and Jack is perfect for this.” 

You noticed the change in his expression when you said that. Clearly putting him in the investigator mode. “Are you alright?” Maybe you dreamt it, but for a second or two, his fingers were holding your shoulder tighter. 

From the little time you spent with Hotch these past months, you thought he didn’t know you enough to care or to notice it anyway. Clearly putting aside the fact it was his work to see these kinds of things. So you simply brushed it off before he left, saying it was nothing important.

But Hotch did. He noticed the dark rings under your eyes or how you seemed to shine a little less than the other days. You were always so bubbly; sometimes you even made his day brighter with the little attention you seemed to give naturally. Like a much-needed smile, questioning him about his day or offering him a cookie from those you made with Jack earlier. Cookies that were staying at his place and that he could have taken himself. But you chose to offer it yourself. 

And knowing you weren’t going well, I stayed with him the whole night. Even during his dinner with high-level agents from the FBI. At some point, he probably even missed some conversations. Too busy trying to understand what could be wrong with you. Or what he could do to help. 

He knew it wasn’t really his place to help you in any way. But something he hated more than overstepping the line was being useless in front of someone’s bad mood. 

Hotch didn’t come home until midnight. He wasn’t surprised to feel the calm inside. Even if Jack was a heavy sleeper, you always put the TV on a quiet volume just to be sure it wouldn’t wake him up. You always kept just the lamp beside the sofa to have a warm and cozy atmosphere. And since you’ve cleaned the kitchen after dinner, he could smell a mix of dish soap and your perfume in the air.

And like he expected, you were laying on his couch, with a blanket covering your legs, reading the same book he was on. 

That was a kind of secret but not so secret habit you had. When Hotch noticed once or twice that you were reading the book he inadvertently left on his coffee table, this became a routine. You never talked about it. You both just liked the idea of sharing the same interest.

He stayed in the back, appreciating how peaceful his place was. Until he felt bad about being there without your awareness. So he put his keys in the bowl you helped Jack create for Father’s Day, slowly but still loud enough so you can hear it. And it worked.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” Hotch, said, sitting next to you. He put his jacket on the back of the couch; his tie was slightly undone, and you tried not to focus on his undone cufflink too. You had a thing for the way his open sleeves were showing his muscled and hairy wrists. 

“You didn’t,” you replied, bringing your knees up against your chest. “I'm getting used to hearing you coming back,” you added with a smile. It was only after the words left your mouth that you realized how domestic this sounded. And the little smile on his face let you know that he noticed too.

But that didn’t seem to bother him. Or at least, he didn’t say anything.

Instead, you watched as he put a doggy bag on the coffee table. “Don’t tell Jack, but I brought back the dessert.” He sounded so innocent, like a kid hiding his secret from his parents and not the other way around. You couldn’t contain your laugh when you watched him rub his hands before opening the box.

“Enjoy your dessert,” you said with a laugh. You also took that as a sign to leave. After such a long day, you guessed Hotch needed a moment for himself without the babysitter being underfoot. So you got up and took the blanket to fold it when he grabbed your hand softly. And showed you two spoons. 

“I’m not eating that alone,” he offered, handing you one of the spoons with a shy smile. No words could explain the heat in your heart when you understood he wanted you around. 

So you sat back, unintentionally closer to Hotch than you were before. So close that you even touched his thigh with yours. You both looked down, and the apologies left your lips quickly, taking enough distance so you weren’t this closeto sit on his lap anymore. 

Looking away, you missed the blush on his cheeks after he lost your contact.

To lighten the mood, you tilted your spoon next to him to toast. When you heard him laugh so softly, like he didn’t even mean to, this felt like a victory. As hot as it can look on him, this serious look, you loved to make his day a little brighter.

But this victory was soon over when he turned to you. “Would you like to share what’s on your mind?” when you frowned, having too much respect for him to talk with your mouth full. “You said you needed to change your mind.” 

You took a moment to think about it. You didn’t even remember telling him about that, making you wonder what other thoughts you slipped since you started working for him. Yet, talking to Hotch didn’t seem a bad idea. He had this comforting look in his eyes, and you felt safer next to him than you did with most people in your life.

“That’s stupid,” you started. You noticed the look he gave you; he didn’t like the idea of you judging yourself before speaking. But you chose to ignore it and told him about your week. “And I think I finally lost hope in love for good.” You finished your story with a sad laugh. Because there was some truth in this. 

You were met with a silence. But when you turned your head to look at him, you saw that his eyes never left you. “You do?” he asked in a genuine and sincere tone. One that made you blush. Because a part of you still pretended like Hotch wasn’t really listening. It would have been easier to accept that you were opening your heart like that. This explained why you started looking at your cake instead.

“It’s just…I’m tired of running after men who clearly don’t appreciate me. I keep getting hopeless and sad because dating has become a joke for them. And it’s not one for me. And I just don’t know what to do.” 

Before you noticed it, you were playing with your cake and reducing it to a pulp. Much like your heart these days.

“I just wished there were more men like…” You sighed, turning to look at Hotch. He was there, frowning, waiting to hear more. Not prepared for the last word missing from your sentence. “More like you,” you added.

Hotch froze, his spoon close to his lips. So close you missed the way it curled into a small smile. Both flattered and curious to see where you were heading with this idea. 

“You’re great, you’re mature, you’re an amazing father, you know what you want, you take good care of you, of Jack, of this house. And I’m convinced you can take good care of a woman too. You’ve never been anything but nice and gentle with me, so I can't imagine how great you must be with someone you love.” 

It has been a long time since Hotch heard that he might be a great man. Being a divorced, then widowed, single father working too much to the point he had to take a babysitter who was probably seeing his son more than he was wasn’t the definition of a great man for him. But maybe he was too hard on himself.

Or maybe you were too kind about him.

And maybe that was the reason it hit him like that. You were the one who said that. Not any woman he might have brought on a date, and probably won’t see again because he didn’t feel the connection he was craving for. You. Jack’s babysitter. The woman who hunted his dreams to the point he considered he might need to ask you to stop coming. 

But he couldn’t do that to Jack, who clearly appreciated you a lot.

And selfish, he couldn’t do that to himself either. He loved seeing you around. He found some comfort in his crazy and not always so easy life knowing you would be there when he came home.

“I…I’m sorry.” You stuttered, getting up suddenly. You needed air. You needed to get out of here before proposing to Jack’s father and getting jobless. And maybe being removed from here, from the city, from the country even! Who knows what the BAU chief can do? 

This time, you put the blanket away in a messy way. And soon, you were in the hallway, collecting your bag and even chose to put on your shoes after you passed the door to not waste another moment of his time. 

But right when you were going to open the door, a big, hairy, somehow charismatic hand landed on the wood to prevent it. When you turned, you faced Hotch, who was closer to you than you imagined. “You mean that?” he asked, confused.

This whole minute of preparing your escape, you imagined he was still sitting on the sofa. Probably eating the part of the cake you left on the table, not bothering about you leaving, and maybe even thinking about the text he would send you tomorrow to inform you of your dismissal. 

But you certainly did not imagine Hotch would run after you.

“Do you mean that?” he asked again, moving just a little closer to you. But enough for you to feel the desire from his body. You had to tilt your head backward to look at him and suddenly got lost in the beauty of his face. It was the first time you were seeing him like that, and you could be sure that your subconscious would be looking forward to putting this beautiful face in each one of your dreams.

No words left your lips, at first. So you simply nodded. “Say it.” Hotch whispered, bringing his face closer again. You could taste the luxurious wine he drank that night and the sweet dessert you both ate in his breath. And for a second, the single thing on your mind was how good it must taste on his lips too.

“I do,” you finally replied, looking up at his eyes. But his were down on your lips this time.

And after whispering a “good” that you almost missed, his lips finally tasted yours. In the softest and sweetest kiss you’ve ever had. There was something in the way Hotch felt almost vulnerable against you, like he didn’t know how to act. Yet, the experience was speaking too from the way he put you against the wall, how one of his hands ended up in your hair to grab them just with the right strength: enough to keep still and not hurting you. You were right; that man knew what he wanted and how to get it.

You let one of your hands run through his chest. You grabbed his loosened-up tie to gain a little height. Now that you got it, you wanted more of him.

But the reality hit you at the same time.

Or more exactly, when you heard little steps on the hallway coming to you.

Hotch was fast at stopping the kiss and putting a good distance between the two of you. Yet, he kept his hand on your waist longer. Long enough that when Jack finally appeared, you still felt the touch of his fingers on your skin. 

“Daddy, you’re home.” Jack said in a sleepy voice, lazily walking to Hotch to hug him. You always loved how Hotch’s whole world seemed to light up every time his son was around. The love he had for him was undeniable.

“Let’s go back to sleep, buddy.” Hotch said, taking Jack in his arms to carry him back to his room. You watched as the little boy put his little hand on Hotch’s back, probably with no strength at all but just with the need to feel his dad with him. Every movement between the two of them seemed so natural.

But before leaving the living room, and probably reading your mind somehow, Hotch turned back to you and whispered, “Wait for me, please,” with a tone that clearly indicated it was both an order and a pleading.

So you did. But instead of sitting back on the couch, like he probably expected you to, you took the empty plates and did the dishes. Something you were used to, you did that only a few hours ago. You needed to keep your mind occupied while he wasn’t here; otherwise, you couldn’t promise you wouldn’t run away. 

You were so focused on what you were doing that you didn’t hear Hotch coming back. You just felt his chest against your back when he approached. Thrills grew on your arms when he put his hands on the counter, surrounding you. When you turned your head to look at him, you noticed he had let go of his tie and had opened up the first button of his shirt. 

“I can call you a taxi,” he whispered in your ear. You lost it at the contact of his lips with your skin. So much that you didn’t understand straight away what he said.

You then turned around to face him. “You kissed me, and now you’re sending me away? You have a weird way to deal with women,” you replied, frowning. You discovered a new expression on his face. A sweet and mostly flirty smile. One that had reached immediately to the top 3 of your favorite looks on him. “I might take back what I said earlier,” you added, yet still placing your hand on his chest. It wasn’t your fault; it was calling you.

“I just don’t want you to regret what happened tonight and feel pressured to stay here if you don’t want to.” Hotch felt like a high school boy who wanted to hide his girlfriend in his bedroom. And if he listened to his heart, he would. It was hard looking at you now that he knew this wasn’t all in his head and fantasy.

When he brought a hand to your face to put a strand of hair behind your ear, you cuddled against it. And feeling his thumb brushing your cheek softly was worth it. “You mean I have to go home knowing I can have this now?” 

“I mean, you can stay the following nights to…have this.” He laughed, from the way you both worded it but also from the falsely menacing look you were giving him. You were making it harder for him to let you go. 

This explained why you stayed longer like this, in the middle of the kitchen. Just talking and flirting until the driver was here. And you both lived through every minute like there was no tomorrow.

“Promise me you will tell me if you regret it.” Hotch said one last time when he opened the door for you. He had to be sure you got in the car safely. He also allowed him to have the option to keep you with him until the last second.

You replied with a kiss on his lips and a “I won’t,” said happily. 

When he woke up the next morning, Hotch noticed he had a text from you. For a second, he got scared something happened after you went home. He was ready to jump out of bed. But when he opened it, he ended up giggling. 

“I still don’t regret it.” you wrote.

It has been months, probably years, since he felt this lighthearted at the idea of texting a woman. But you weren’t any woman. You were you. Probably one of the few people to know him well, except from the team. So maybe it was meant to be. “I don’t regret it either,” he replied back. And when he saw the heart you left on the text and the bubble indicating you were writing, he added a new goal to his life: spending more time with you. And who knows, maybe considering that life and love still had some surprises to offer him.

[syluslnd]

Hi! I love your writing

Could i request Sylus finding out the reader is pregnant?

sylus finding out that you’re pregnant

You’d been keeping it to yourself for days, maybe longer than you should have. You wanted the timing to be perfect but every time you tried to bring it up, the words got caught in your throat. How would he react? He was always so guarded, so in control—it was hard to predict.

But today, as you sat at the kitchen table, trying to decide on the perfect way to tell him, Sylus’s voice cut through the silence.

“Care to explain this, sweetie?”

Your stomach twisted as you looked up and found him standing by the trash can, holding up the unmistakable pregnancy test with a raised eyebrow. His gaze was sharp but his expression…was softer than you expected. Almost vulnerable.

You shifted, biting your lip and managing a nervous smile. “Well…that’s exactly what it looks like.”

He took a slow breath, his fingers tightening around the test just slightly. “So, it’s true?” His voice was soft but with an undercurrent of tension. “You’re…you’re pregnant?”

You nodded, watching his face carefully, searching for his reaction. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I wanted it to be the right moment and I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

He let out a quiet, breathless chuckle, shaking his head as he stepped closer. “Kitten, you seriously thought I wouldn’t want to know something like this?” His voice was low and he looked at you with an intensity that made your cheeks flush.

You shrugged, a little shy but holding his gaze. “You can be hard to read sometimes, Sylus. I didn’t know how you’d feel about…us having a kid. The world you’re in…everything…”

He nodded slowly, still processing, his gaze shifting to your stomach as if imagining what it would be like in the months to come. “Yeah, it scares me, not gonna lie.” His voice was rough, almost shaky, and it made your heart ache a little to see him so uncharacteristically unsure. “I’ve spent so much time focused on keeping myself safe, keeping you safe and now a kid? That’s…it’s a lot. But—”

He stopped, taking your hands in his, his grip a little tighter than usual. He let out a slow breath, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But the thought of you being the mother of my child? That’s something I never thought I’d get, something I didn’t think I deserved.” His voice softened, his hand lifting to gently brush your cheek. “You’re gonna be the best damn mom.”

A laugh bubbled up from you, nervous and warm and you squeezed his hand, trying to ground both of you. “I’m glad you think so,cause I’m kind of nervous myself. But…if it’s with you, I know we’ll figure it out.”

His smirk widened, a touch of that familiar intensity back in his gaze. “Well, you better be ready, kitten. This kid’s gonna have a bit of a wild life with us as parents.” He paused, brushing his thumb over your knuckles as he looked at you with a rare, unguarded sincerity. “But we’ll make it work and I’ll be here every step of the way, protecting both of you, no matter what.”

You grinned, feeling your heart swell as you pulled him into a tight hug, feeling his arms wrap around you protectively. It was the start of something new, something neither of you were fully prepared for—but with Sylus by your side, you felt ready for anything.

[wosofutbolfan]

When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful)

Alexia Putellas x Reader

A story of a lifetime spent growing together. To what end?

Songfic

WC: 17k. Check TW inside.

TW: Bullying based on disability. Death of a parent. Angst. Grief.

Hi Guys.

This has sat in my drafts for months and inside my head for even longer. There is no part 2 planned. This is angsty with fluffy moments. Be warned.

I think we can all agree the most heart wrenching media moment of all time is Toy Story 2 and the below song.

If you don't agree. Move along this is not for you.

Reader calls Alexia, Alex throughout this fic. That's based on this video. Cause I have never heard someone refer to that and I thought it was cute. Alexia refers to R as 'Conejito' as a literal translation of bunny - I have since realised there's a more vulgar translation of this which I'm ignoring. Ha.

Spoiler Alert - This story deals with the death of a parent. Which I went back and forth on writing. Something about it still feels ick to me because these are real people. I may delete. Everything within is based on my own experience of parental loss. And it comes from no place of malace or weirdness.

This also deals with a severe speech impediment - which again, I do not suffer from myself but have experience with and hope I have done the struggle justice for anyone who may suffer.

My spanish is google translate because I am an ignorant English speaker. Apologies.

When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart

It was raining on the day that you met her.

That was strange. For Barcelona. The rain.

You found yourself where you usually could be found, to anyone who would take notice. Which wasn’t anyone to your knowledge except for a few observant teachers. In the art room, in the back corner, working relentlessly at an easel that your favourite teacher would set up for you.

You had transferred into the school part way through term, and for the first few days as with most schools you were the new and shiny thing. At 12 a lot of the kids in school had known each other since birth and you were new fresh blood to entertain them.

That didn’t last too long though when they realised you weren’t actually that interesting.

Shy and quiet as you always had been, you kept yourself to yourself. Its not that you didn’t want to make friends. You did. You so desperately did. But you just didn’t know how.

You had a stutter. That never helped. Kids could be cruel. And with the move from your hometown to Mollet for your mum's job it had only gotten worse. 

Words felt like lead in your mouth, your jaw felt tight and you struggled to get your words out. They stuck in your throat and refused to move from there. 

The teachers were kind. Your peers were not. Your speech therapist was helping. You spent more time than any 12 year old should thinking about sentence structure and breathing techniques.

You knew your parents worried about you. Waiting for you to get home from school every day with worried glances and eager smiles; “Did you make any friends today ni��a?” your dad would ask, pretending to be casual, flicking through some book or another. “Not today Papi.” You would reply, never wanting to lie to your family, before happily jumping the couch next to him and starting to scribble in your notebook.

“Maybe tomorrow niña. There is always tomorrow”.

Well. Turns out dads are clever.

Because there was always tomorrow. And on an unusually rainy day for Mollet tomorrow came.

“Putellas!! Get back here! Pute-...”

The door to the art room quickly opened and slammed closed. The noise jolts you out of your peaceful reverie. A tall brunette girl smashed her back against the door and a hand quickly flicked out to turn the lights off to the room.

She clearly hadn’t noticed you huddled in the corner as she slid down the door onto her butt. Closing her eyes she let out a deep sigh and rested her forehead on her knees.

You didn't know what to do.

You knew who she was. Of course you did. She was Alexia Putellas.

The Alexia Putellas. Futbol superstar. Well… the 12 year old playground version of that. The coolest girl in school. She oozes confidence. Was always surrounded by a gaggle of your peers. Never without a ball at her feet or in her hands. But she hadn’t noticed you. Arm still raised working on the canvas in front of you, vision now impeded by the dark she had forced onto the room by turning the light off. You froze. Mouth slightly agape and hand starting to sweat. You watched as she rocked her forehead side to side on her knees. Your arm became tired in its upright position and the noise of you plopping the brush back into the water jar seemed to jolt her out of her stupor. Her neck snapped up and you met her wide, hazel eyes that bore into you. “Oh! Lo siento, I didn’t… I didn’t know anyone else was in here.” She was met with silence. Your stutter affected you terribly on a good day. Nevermind your safehaven suddenly being invaded by the coolest girl in school. Who you had idolised from afar since arriving in Mollet. Her head tilted curiously as she took you in. You felt her eyes drift to the canvas behind you. “Did you paint that?” She stands to her full height, still keeping her distance from you. “Why are you painting in the dark…?” She asks curiously. Head still tilted. Faced with a direct question you couldn’t put it off any longer. You couldn’t delay the inevitable. “Y..y…you, tu…tu….switched off….” Changing the words you intended to use halfway through was a coping mechanism that your therapist had tried to get you to work out of your system. She called it masking. You called it getting by. You raise your hand and point to the lightswitch that she had flicked when she entered the room. She looks at you harder now. You feel her eyes boring into you and wait for the inevitable laughter. The pity. Maybe even the cruelty that you are used to when people hear you speak. You cast your eyes down, waiting for the blow. But you just hear a flick of a switch, and the darkness behind your eyelids lifting. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have switched it off if I had known. I was just trying to get away. I kicked a football at Senorita Lopez by accident in the gym. They won’t let me play outside in the rain. Idiotas” You lift your eyes at her gentle, lilting tone as a smile teases your lips. She's moved closer to you now. “You didn’t answer. Did you paint this?” Her hand comes out to hover over the lines of your still-wet painting. Carefully. Again, you’ve been asked a direct question. “Si.” you reply, quietly. You don’t struggle so much with single words. “By yourself?” she asked, aghast, wonder taking over her features. You nod in reply. “This is so cool! Show me!” A grin overtakes your features as you nod more enthusiastically. Glasses slipping down your nose. Pulling out a fresh canvas for your new friend. “Lo siento, I haven’t told you my name. My Papa says it's rude not to introduce myself…” she stands tall and thrusts out her hand. Very formally. Very practised. “I am Alexia Putellas Segura.” You pause for a moment, looking at her outstretched hand. You wipe your clammy hands on your jeans. And shake her hand. “A…A…” you grow frustrated with yourself, the words getting stuck in your throat. You pull your hand away but Alexia keeps her grip firm and nods at you encouragingly. “Al…Alex… Alex.” you give up. Eyes downcast. Maybe you can tell your papa you nearly made a friend today. “Alex! Cool! I’ve never had that nickname! Most people call me Ale. But it can be our thing. I know you, you are y/n I remember Senora Perez making you stand at the front of class. Show me how to paint! Please? ”  Alexia was not a good painter. She quickly got bored and distracted by the newspaper on the desk intended for a paper mache project which she screwed up together, fashioned into a football and then spent the rest of the wet lunchtime kicking around the art room aiming for various targets that she would shout out to you. 

You dutifully cheered at every successful hit of the target. That night as you climbed onto the couch next to your papa and he asked; “Did you make any friends today niña?”. You couldn’t wait to reply; “Si! Alex.” You missed the way his newspaper dropped ever so slightly, and he caught the eye of your mami who was in the kitchen. “Ah, Si? Alex should come for dinner! We would love to welcome him!” He replied, his delight even obvious to you. “No tonta… Alex is a girl!” you let out. In that hilariously moody way only 12 year olds can. You became inseparable. Alexia was your best friend. Complete and total opposites. She would spend wet lunches in the art room with you. She would drag you to the playing fields after school and on break and you would be a goalie for her. Which was really just you standing complaining about where you found yourself and you dived away from balls as she cackled out a laugh. She came round for dinner with your family most nights. You spent every weekend at the Putellas household, travelling to her football games, strapped up next to Alba in the back of the Putellas family car, scribbling away in a notebook as you drew landscapes that you passed. On the way home you would sketch and sketch, only slightly hindered by the weight of your gangly best friend as she slept on your shoulder.  Your art would sit on both family fridges. Alex’s football boots would litter both entrance ways. Your mami would pick Alba up from the junior school if Eli got stuck at work. Joint family dinners were the norm.

Your relationship evolved through the years. Easily. Blissfully. You grew together. You became taller, however still paling in height compared to your best friend. You got braces and had them removed, You wore contacts most days now instead of your thick rimmed glasses. Though you still could usually be found in the art rooms.

Alexia filled out, she became less gangly and more strong, after years dedicated to football and training. 

Your speech improved. Your stammer only comes out rarely and you know your triggers. You worked hard every week with your speech therapist but you always credited Alexia. She gave you confidence. 

No one at school would roll their eyes or laugh at you when Alexia was by your side. She didn’t rush you. She didn’t finish your sentences. Nothing was more formidable within your school walls than if Alexia had found out someone had made fun of you, or not been patient with you. She got in trouble countless times defending your honor. Even if the teachers hated punishing her for it. 

You maybe realised on some level that you were as important to Alexia as she was to you the day that caused her to miss the U15 School Championship final. 

One of the more idiotic older basketball boys had caught you in the hallway. Trying to impress his gaggle of followers he had tripped you up as you were on your way scurrying into the art rooms to finish the sign you had made for Jaume to wave at the upcoming championship final. You had fallen flat on your face, quickly moving onto your back and pressing yourself against the wall. It had been a while due to Alexia's influence but you had dealt with bullies your entire life and you knew you had to just make yourself small and wait it out. “Oh s-s-s-s-s–s-s-oooorry it w-w-w-as an a-a-a-a-accident!!” the boy taunted you, leaning over you and exaggerating your stutter. 

His spittle hitting your face and making you wince. He brought himself to his full height, which was impressive for a 16 year old and turned to his friends. “Honestly, how is she even in this school, she is so estupida!” His guffaw was matched by his followers however their faces quickly dropped as they looked behind their ringleader. “What did you just say to her?” a cold, terse voice entered the conversation. You didn’t see his face drop but you could imagine it. 

He quickly turned and looked at Alexia standing in the doorway. Sunshine behind her darkening your view. As she stepped into the halfway you took in the thunderous look on her face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her as angry. 

You barely recognised her. “I-i-i sai…” This time he wasn’t impersonating you. 

He knew he was fucked. She moved quicker than you had ever seen her move on the football pitch. The tall boys friends quickly scattered as she grabbed him by his shoulders. He may have had at least two foot of height difference on her but that quickly diminished to nothing as she kneed him squarely between the legs. He doubled over in pain as she landed blow after blow to his stomach. “Alex… stop.” you instructed, gathering yourself to your feet. 

Your voice cut through her rage and she immediately stopped her punches. He scurried off as soon as he was able to, no serious damage done apart from to his ego… and maybe his balls. She turned to face you after shouting some choice expletives to his back, face immediately morphing into one of concern, eyebrows furrowed as her hands cupped your face. “¿Estás bien?” She asked, seriously. Hands moving to check you over. 

“Si, Si, estoy bien.” you replied. “You shouldn’t have done that Alex.” you regarded her with sceptical eyes. 

Her brow furrowed further, “What should I have done then? He’s un maton, he hurt you. I taught him a lesson. I would do it again. I would. I am not sorry.” she said firmly as she moved your head beneath her chin and wrapped her strong arms around you. 

You tried to pretend that the butterflies in your stomach erupting at her protectiveness were a normal reaction to a friend. 

Right? She repeated the same platitudes the next day, but this time with Jaumes hand on her shoulder as she sat in the headmaster's office. The boy she had humiliated so happened to be the son of one of the school governors. The headmaster told the footballer and her father that if Alexia apologised to the boy then she would go unpunished, otherwise, he would be forced to stop any of her extra-curricular activities, including the interschool championship final. Which, as headmaster, he really didn't want to do when his school had their first chance of winning in over a decade. She refused. 

She was banned from playing.

The team lost. 

Badly. The guilt ate away at you as you both watched from the sidelines as the 5th goal against your team went in. 

She grasped your knee, and still watched the game. “Stop feeling guilty. I am still not sorry. There are more important things than football conejita.” 

You took a breath and placed your hand on top of hers. You turned to look at her incredulously. “I mean, very few. Football is still in the top 2. Food is 3.” she continued, deadpan. Forcing a laugh out of you. You asked her once, years after first meeting, one sleepover when you were both lying side by side on the Putellas trampoline looking up at the stars. Why was she so patient with you? When no one else was? She looked at you, dumbfounded, genuinely confused by the question. “You have a voice y/n. You deserve to be heard.” she replied. Moving into her favourite position which was pulling all of your weight completely on top of her. Your head rested over her heart. You could hear the thump thump thump against your ear. You hoped she couldn’t feel the fluttering of yours.  

It was that simple to her. “Plus you looked like a rabbit in the headlights when I barged in, you were too cute. Mi pequeña coneja”.

Your Alex. 

You transitioned from best friends into girlfriends at 16 with no fanfare. A shy kiss after a win at Alexia's latest championship sealed it. Her grin splitting her face. Yours matching when you realised your dreams could become a reality. Hands held tentatively in the backseat of Jaumes car as he smiled at the scene through his rear view mirror.  Days later, as you both stood in front of your mami and papi shyly holding hands you realised, squeezing the trembling hand in yours, that it was the first time you had seen Alex nervous. In all of your years of friendship.

Alexia still had her weirdly formal streak, the same as the day you met her, so you let her do what she felt she needed to.

“Senor y Senora y/l/n… “ she started, taking a breath. “Mi and y/f/n…”

Your parents caught your eye, dumbfounded. She never used their titles. They rarely heard her use your name. You were always conejito.

“Alexia… estimada…” your mami started, with kind eyes. You could tell she knew what was coming. You shook your head at her slightly, Alexia too caught up in her own moment to notice. Your mami let her speak.

“Mi and y/f/n…”

Your papi, however, was not as emotionally in tune as your mami, “Monito, what is going on? Why are you being muy loca? Have you got mi mija pregnant? I know you're an overachiever bu…” “Papi!” you screeched out, interrupting him. 

Alex stood mouth agape, face flushed as she looked to you for help. “Papi, Mami, Alex is tr…try…tryi… telling you that we’re together together.” you let out, raising your joined hands. Your mami let out a laugh behind her hands, your papi however stood and exclaimed, “Was that some sort of secret!? Dios Mio of course you are! We thought you had been for years!  You made me change your bedtime story from princesses to football-playing princesses on the day you met!  Why do you think your Mami makes you keep your door open when this one stays, Mija?” 

Now it's your turn to blush as your mouth drops open. As he passes Alexia he gently smacks her upside the head, ruffling her long brunette hair. “Now come on cabeza de bola, me and the guys from work are starting a 5 a side. I need your help on penalties…” You huff out a laugh as your girlfriend is dragged away, confused look stuck on her face - eyebrows adorably drawn and mouth furrowed and clinging to your hand until distance forces her to let go. 

Your mami settles her arm across your shoulders. “I’m happy for you Mija” she mutters, in her gentle tone as you fall into her embrace. “You’re going to marry that girl one day.” Even after everything that would happen and the hell you would feel, you thank God for the unseasonal rain in Barcelona that day in junior school.

And when she was sadI was there to dry her tearsAnd when she was happy, so was IWhen she loved me It wasn’t long after you made your relationship official that you had your first real test.

You knew something was wrong with your girlfriend probably before she did. You knew her like the back of your hand. Though it finally came to a head one early evening at the Putellas household.

You had both picked Alba up from school, and you had set out to making dinner in the Putellas kitchen whilst Alexia's parents were both stuck at work.

It was standard practice, occurring at least once a week. You moved through the kitchen with ease. The ease is what alerted you.

Usually, on nights like these, Alba would huff off to her room like any other pubescent teenager, head stuck in her phone and earphones firmly in place. Alexia however, would usually be found attached to your back, arms wrapped around you as you cooked, or sat at the breakfast bar, swiping chopped veggies til you hit her with a spoon to make her stop, rolling your eyes as she insisted she was a growing girl and she needed the extra.

No, this was too easy, you thought, as you moved around, you missed your big inconvenience in the kitchen and you made sure your pasta sauce was bubbling nicely and went to search for her. 

You find her in the living room, her large frame draped over the sofa, eyes mindlessly watching the TV. But you can tell she isn’t watching whatever is on. Ale isn’t a big TV-watcher. She's very rarely sitting still for long enough to concentrate. The exception being if you're in her lap, where she entertains herself by playing with your hair or tracing the lines on your palm. “Hey, amor, estás bien?” your voice brings her out of her thoughts, “Ey? Ah sí conejito, lo siento, is dinner ready?” she asks, making to stand, but being stopped by your hand on her shoulder.  “Ay, when did I become the hired help, ey?” you ask, trying to tease a smile out of your girlfriend. “Dinner will be ready soon. Tell me what's on your mind.” The thing about Alex is she’s an open book. People may think she is stern and serious but she wears her heart on her sleeve. You can always see her thoughts plainly on her face, so you know something troubling her. She knows she can’t hide it from you, so she doesn’t try. “I’ve been offered a professional contract.” She states, plainley. Your heart lifts for her. Your whole life Alexia has bled football. For many years she believed, and you did too though you would never admit it, that it wouldn't be possible to make a career from the sport. You don’t think you have ever seen Alexia as sad as when she aged out of the Barcelona FC teams. She was devastated. It was a harsh reminder that Spain wasn't the USA. The opportunities are not always available. But the thing you loved most about Alexia was her dogged determinedness. She would train in the morning, in the afternoon, between classes. You are overjoyed that all of that hard work has paid off. Something wasn’t adding up with her reaction, however. “Alex, that's amazing news!” you exclaimed, unable to hide the joy in your voice. “Why are you not more excited? Is it a bad deal?” “No, amor, it is a fair deal.” she sighs. You just look into her eyes, waiting for her to tell you what she wants to share. She takes a deep breath. “It’s Levante, I would have to move to Valencia.” Ah, you see. Your heart breaks at the sad frown painted on the usually stern face of your girlfriend. Your hand moves up to trace her eyebrow, forcing them to unfrown and moving down to cup her cheek. She leans heavily into the warmth of your hand, and damp eyes open, fixing to yours. “Oh Alex, it’s okay” you whisper. The truth is you had always known that with the career your girlfriend was destined to follow, that you would have to spend time away from each other. You already did. Alexia has often been away throughout your friendship and now your relationship for national camps. 

You had a very mature relationship for 17 year olds. Having been woven into each other's lives for so many years. You were part of each other's DNA. You knew how to manage the time without your girlfriend. You were both grade A communicators. You accepted that this would be different, and no doubt unimaginably hard for the footballer, her family was her life. But so was football. And you know you needed to encourage her to take this step. “It’s not okay!” she stated, firmly, sitting up straight on the couch. “It’s not fair! Finally I get what I have dreamed of but it comes at the expense of everything I love. Mi familia, Barcelona, you! Why can’t I have both? I don’t know what to do” “You go to Levante, Alexia.” you say, seriously, “This is a huge opportunity for you.” She looks at you incredulously and you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong. “Oh, so it is that easy for you? Si? You just let me go like it doesn’t even bother you!” You aren’t used to Alexia's stern frown being sent your way, usually it's aimed at someone in defence of you. Or at a goalkeeper.  You, however, know the brunette is feeling vulnerable, she has waves of insecurity at times, she puts so much pressure on herself it's inevitable, but you are always there to assure her of her worth, and your love. “You know that's not true, amor.” you say, tenderly, hand reaching into her brunette locks to sooth her. “I agree, it’s not fair that Barca don’t have a women's team but I have always known your talent would take you away from me, “ she opens her mouth to interject, “but I love you. And I know you love me. We are tethered. Forever. When, not if, you go to Valencia, we will make it work. You know we will amor, you can have both” “But I will miss you.” she whimpers, pathetically. “I will miss you every second. But it will get better, it’ll pass Alex.” Her head finds your neck as she settles in there. Her larger frame is quite comically draped over you. “Do you promise?” she lets out, weakly. And you don’t let a moment pass, “I promise.” and seal your promise with a kiss to the crown of her head. She moves her chin up and faces you, “Beso, por favour” she asks, who are you to refuse? You kiss softly, you don’t know how many minutes you are tasting her sweet lips pass before you are interrupted by a sulky 14 year old.  “Ewwww!”

Alba appeared, making the two of you split apart, her disgust at the scene she's found making you laugh as Alexia peels herself from you, rolling her eyes.

“I’m gonna tell Mami that you two were making out instead of feeding m…ahh!” Albas accusations getting lost as Alexia chases her around the living room, ready to fight in a way only sisters can.

A strange smelling odour fills your nose. Oh… Oh no. You rush into the kitchen to find your dinner smoking on the hob.

“Oi, Putellas diablos!” You stick your head into the living room where you find Alexia sat on her younger sister whilst she tries to battle off the huge weight she finds on herself. They both pause and look at you guiltily. “C’mon, shoes on, we’re going out to eat, on me, we’re celebrating!”

Both of them unite in cheers as they childishly jump up and run to the front door in glee, shoving each other out of the way to try to get their shoes on first as you watch, affectionately shaking your head.

It will be months later, after a summer filled with memories made with your girlfriend, days at the beach, trips to the market, lazy days at home and soft moments made in the streets of Barna, that you would find yourself alone in bed.

That was weird.

You had spent the day packing with Alexia, the sadness of moving away had started to be replaced with excitement from the tall girl. Her dreams were coming true, okay, it may not be perfect, she finally understands, but it's a step in the right direction.

She can’t believe that she's going to get paid to play football.

Paid. The evening after a long day of packing was spent having a family meal at the Putellas household. Your family is also in attendance. It was a loud and joyous affair and it helped to keep the sadness out of your girlfriend's eyes. After a long evening of sombremesa Alexia had insisted on coming back with you to your parents to your house.

She didn’t want to spend her last evening in Barcelona in her empty bedroom, instead finding solace in yours. You had both talked into the early hours, in the arms of each other, trading soft touches and exchanging breaths until sleep took you. You pretended for her sake that you couldn’t hear her rattling breaths or feel the dampness of her cheeks on your fingers.

Now, however, you were alone, and unsure at what woke you up. Until a tapping comes to your attention. You sit up in bed and hear it again. What is that? You get out of bed and go towards your window, yep, there it is again, coming from outside. You throw open the curtains and peer out into the moonlit garden.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness but you can’t take that moment because you suddenly are hit squarely in the face by a pebble. 

“Ouch.. what the he…” you stand suddenly and bang your head on the window frame “Ow, Fuck!” “Ay Dios Mío, lo siento amor! I didn’t see you had opened the window!” Alexia's panicked voice reached your ears, why was she in the garden? What the hell was going on? “Are you okay conejito?” You take a moment to steady yourself and your mind into your new and abrupt situation. “Conejito?” “Yes, Alex, I am fine. What are you doing out there?” You’re met with silence. “Al?” The tall brunette is scuffing her foot against the pebbles of the garden that she had previously been launching at the window. “I don’t want to say. I feel stupid now.” You arch your eyebrow in her direction. You don't think that she can even see it but she knows what's aimed in her direction. “I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. And also sad. And muddled. And I will miss you so much so I was just imagining how good it will feel when you visit, or I visit. Or when I score a goal and you’re watching. Which I know you’ve seen but now it's my job.” she rambles, pausing momentarily to take a breath. 

“Anyway, I thought about how cool it would be if I came to visit and woke you up by throwing stones at your window like in a film! You’d love that! Then I just couldn’t wait to do it. So here’s me, doing it. I’m being romantic.” She throws a crooked grin up at the window and your heart literally melts. “I..I….” and you promptly burst into tears. “Oh no mi amor no! Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to throw a pebble at your face! I’m sorry!” she gestures towards you with her hands frantically. “It’s not that Alex, you’re just such an idiot. And I love you so much. I am going to miss you so much. Get up here.” needing her arms wrapped around you. She nods vigorously and makes to climb the trellis that goes to your window. “No you idiot! Use the door! You have a key!” “Oh yeah.” you hear her mutter to herself before she scurried back inside. As you’re settled back into her warm arms, her huge hands palming through your hair. “That was very romantic Alex.” you mumble and you practically hear her purr with pride at herself. “Next time though bebe, use your key, I would much rather you be here in bed with me.” “Noted.” she mumbles into your skin, wiping away the tears that you can’t stop from rolling down your cheeks. Alexia got settled into her professional team quickly and efficiently, she was one of the youngest but easily the most talented on the pitch. You would travel up with Jaume religiously at the weekends wherever you could, your time in the week spent busy with the Art College you had enrolled in. Alba sometimes tagging along when you bribed her with snacks.

As promised you were there when she scored her first professional goal, her beaming smile sent directly to you and Jaume in the stands, stood cheering for her. You witnessed her wide eyes, after the game, as you stood waiting for your celebratory hug and maybe a cheeky kiss, when she was stopped by a little hand. “Hola.” the small girl had to crane her neck to look up at your girlfriend. She was shaking with excitement. “Hola?” she replied, confused. “Can I have your autograph por favour?” she asked, sweetly. Alexia just stood there, like a sim. 

You stepped forward with your notepad and drawing pencil that you carry everywhere, you had more drawings of inside a football stadium than anyone would need. You ripped out a page and handed Ale the pencil. “Of…of course?” She scribbled down her autograph for the young girl who beamed and ran away holding it above her head to show her mami who picked her up in glee. Alexia's wide eyes stared at you. “Did you see that?” “I saw that bebe, I handed you the pencil. I also saw your goal, superstar!” You couldn’t control your grin, which was mirrored by your girlfriend. “You played so well! Alex!” You're interrupted as she drags you over the fencing and pulls you into a bear hug. Her face nuzzled into your neck, her body vibrating with excitement. “I scored for you conejito!” she says “Well, hija, I won’t be offended, I have only been to every game you’ve played for 10 years” Jaume appears above you both still in the stands, smiling teasing his lips. “And you papa!” she releases you and pulls her papa into a hug. Dragging you back in after a moment before declaring that her first goal means that she deserves pizza and ice cream courtesy of her papa. 

Through the summer and the fall We had each other, that was all Just she and I together Like it was meant to be

You finished your college course and your love for art had never died. You made the trip to Valencia wherever possible to see Alex and she came back to Barna at least once a month to see her family and you on an off weekend. You would spend those weekends living at Alexias house, soaking up every moment together as much as possible. 

She would bring her clothes home for Eli to wash as she was useless at anything practical. You would make sure that you would always snag a sweater of hers before it was washed and keep hold of it, soaking in her scent before you could swap it out again. Alexia, used to pretend she hated it, they would always be returned with paint stains around the cuffs which would harden and she said irritated her skin.  You tried to be more careful but you didn’t stop stealing them.

You saw the same amount of her family as before she moved away, your lives had been so intrinsically linked that you had become an honorary Putellas, and she was a part of your family. You hung around with Alba and you helped Eli with her shopping when her car broke down. You were family.

Weirdly enough, it was you that met Alexia's future best friend first. After college, you started to make money from your art by being a live artist at weddings.

You knew your parents were worried about what you would do with your art. Teaching was the obvious choice but with your speech issues, it was your idea of hell.

This was perfect.

It was a niche business but you got paid well and you loved it. You got to go to weddings for a job. You got to capture people's joy on the most important day of their lives.  You would sit in the corner with an easel set up, sketching and painting guests, the dance floor, the top table. And you could immediately give your paintings to the couple and their guests, the validation was enormous, you were good at what you did. Discreet and professional.

You soon get a client list for miles and the money starts to pour in.

It was at one of these weddings that you met Mapi. She caught your eye during the speeches and you started to draw her outline. She was clearly very very gay at a very straight wedding. But it wasn’t just that that caught your eye, her tattoos intrigued you. And you loved sketching them and adding hints of colour here and there.

She looked up at you and caught you sketching, as guests often would, you were able to not let it distract you, ever the professional you offered a gentle smile.

“You like football?” a heavily accented voice reached your ears as you were adding the finishing touches to the dancefloor scene that was set out before you.

“Que?” It wasn’t often that guests interacted with you, but sometimes it happened.

“Your bag, FC Barcelona? That's not usual for a pretty girl like you, to like football.”

“Ah, Si.” You reply, your eyes not moving from your painting. “It’s my girlfriends.” you reply, emphasising your relationship status, not wanting a moment of confusion.

“Ah, boo, you have ruined my fun.” She replies, “Maria Leon '' She introduces herself, hand out for you to shake, you don’t take her hand, handing your paint-y hands up. She holds her hands up in surrender. “I see, I see. FC Barcelona though. Good team. No women's team though.”

“No, but there will be, and my girlfriend will be their top scorer when it happens”  you reply confidently. “You seem so sure?” “I am.” She lets out a laugh. “I can’t argue with that, then I will be their best defender” she offers a huge smile. Mapis smile is magic and makes you smile.

You and Mapi become firm friends. She talks. And talks and talks and talks. You don’t know how she has so much to say. But she is fun and she is kind. Your stutter makes an appearance as it sometimes does but it is perfectly offset by her inability to stop yapping. You don’t feel a pressure to fill the silence because you know she will. 

Years later, at a supercup final, you will both laugh about your first conversation. About how both of your statements came true. Turns out, people paid well for authentic paintings of their favourite moments. And as a young adult you found yourself with enough money to get yourself a small apartment in Mollet. You loved it. And you loved the independence it brought you. You think that was the happiest time of your life. You would spend days on your sun drenched terracotta tiled balcony. Painting watercolour and sketching the scenes both in your mind and your view over the square that your apartment was on. You had quite the online following and would get some commissions for your art which brought you a sense of purpose and joy. The absolute best time was when Alexia had a free weekend, or a break, she would stay with you and you would live in domestic bliss. It was an unspoken agreement. No question that she would make her base for her time back at your apartment. Even when she wasn’t there you wouldn’t sleep on her side of the bed. More of her clothes made their way into your closet. More of her sweaters would get paint marks on them. You would cook together, sing together, dance together in your small kitchenette. Feeling happy and in love as only young people can. Nothing gets between you. Training had been kind to your girlfriend, and you struggled to keep your eyes off her as she would do basic tasks. She was thick. For want of a better word. Her gangly limbs had become pure muscle, her back would ripple when putting on a t-shirt, you would find yourself staring at her forearms as she would cut vegetables. She knew what she did to you and she loved it. Often sending a wink your was and sending you into more of a stuttering mess then usual, heat climbing to your face. You felt your heart grow as you would go shopping for groceries together. Take strolls in the square, you sitting on a bench and sketching as she inevitably got herself involved in a football game with the local kids. Her favourite time of day would be Friday nights. Often, if she was lucky, she would be scheduled an early kick off on fridays. You would travel back from the game together with her papi. You took the backseat as you knew you would monopolise her time back all weekend. Giving her a chance to catch up with her family. You would get home, she would shower whilst you made a light dinner, both taking it in on the balcony before moving inside and settling on the couch. She would put on some illegally screened recordings of the game she had played in. But she would mute it as she pulled you into her chest. You would have a sketchbook in hand and continue working on your art, or a piece from a wedding that needed finishing up. You always told her the commentary wouldn’t distract you. But she insisted. Once finally saying, “I like the sound of your pencil, it soothes me, and sometimes you trace the sketch on my leg with your free hand. It gives me goosebumps. I like it.” you never asked again. You argued, of course, like any couple did. But it never lasted long. Alex would get angry when she would find paint in the sink, and you would struggle to share your space at first. But you never went to bed in a fight. Even if you tried to be stubborn your body would fail you and you would gravitate towards her in the moments before sleep, muttering your apologies or forgiveness. In those early days of young adulthood it would be the only time in your relationship where you had more money than Alex. 

Football did not pay well. It did not pay a living wage. 

You didn’t care. 

You felt privileged every time you scanned your card for the groceries, or paid for dinner on a date. You knew she hated it though. “One day conejito, I will give you everything life can offer, I promise” she would whisper into your skin whilst she tried to make it up to you in other ways. You would always tell her you had everything you needed right there with you. It was perfect. Life was perfect. You had friends, a stable job, the love of your life. Yes, distance was hard, yes, each time she left you would cry and hold her tighter to you, but you knew it wasn’t forever, and you never felt that distance in your relationship. You grew together, like a plant, your love was carefully cultivated in experiences and shared memories.

And when she was lonely I was there to comfort her And I knew that she loved me

You had never felt sadness like it. It was all encompassing. You couldn’t get away from it. You were sad for your chosen family. You were sad for your own family. You were sad for yourself. But you were devastated for your girlfriend. You didn’t know what to do with so much sadness. You couldn’t hold it in, but you couldn’t let it out. You needed to be strong for your girlfriend. Who was walking around as a shell of the person that you knew her to be. Well, that was when she was walking, she would throw herself into her childhood bedroom and stay there silently for hours. You would be okay with it if she was sleeping, but she just stared at the wall aimlessly. Her Papa was her inspiration. The reason she got into football. She would look up to him even as she towered over him. And it was so so cruel that he had been taken away from her in such a manner. A week after Jamues passing you found yourself next to Alexia at his funeral. It was a beautiful affair, a celebration of the life of a man who loved hard and was loved hard. The morning had been difficult, you had ironed Alexia's dress and set it out for her. She took your instruction like a small child, you brushed her hair straight and pulled it out from her face. You struggled to speak. Such immense grief you felt the words became garbled in your mouth, rendering you mute. But you didn’t want any pressure on Alexia. 

You knew when your stutter made an appearance she would drop everything, concentrate on doing your exercises with you, hand automatically cupping your jaw and massaging the soft area beneath your ear because she knew that relaxed your facial muscles. So you both moved around silently. That morning. As you guided her around what needed to be done. As you packed her bag with tissues you hoped that you needed to use them. You hadn’t seen her cry since she rushed home from Valencia to the news. So no, you didn’t know what to do with your grief. You loved him too. He was the first person you had loved and lost. You had your own special relationship built from long car journeys and shared snacks. He would put your art on his fridge like you were one of his own. He was kind and he was half of the person who you loved to your core. God. If you felt like this. You don’t know how Alexia was still breathing. You had been spending all week as the Putellas household. Not leaving Alex's side. But also not leaving Alba, who would lean heavily into you of an evening, seemingly crying all of the tears that her sister couldn’t. It felt healthy though, through the tears you could share memories and make her laugh. You would go to bed with Alex and the silence would continue. When you were sure she was asleep you would sneak out of bed and grab your sketch pad, settle into the corner of the room and just let it out. Her dad told you once at a game how his father worked as a coal miner. He said it proudly, he adored hard work. That's where Alexia got her devotion from. It was a passing moment, a memory that you didn't even know you had. But it stuck with you as you went into the Putellas garden and took a lump of coal from the barbeque and settled yourself into the dewey grass. Hand not stopping over your sketchpad and tears rolling down your cheeks.

The night after the funeral you stayed at your own parents house. You couldn’t handle the loneliness of your own apartment. You didn’t want to intrude at the Putellas residence, and you hoped that maybe some time with her family would be what Alexia needed to open up. You were right, but not in the way you imagined. A soft clink, clink, clink, woke you up, This time you were not frightened. You had heard this noise before. You immediately jumped out of bed and ran to your window, showing it open and shoving your head out. “Alex! What are you doing here, why didn’t you use your key?” The brunette looked up at you with sad eyes, you saw she was in her pyjamas, eyes sideways showing no car, she had walked here. “I forgot it.” she let out, morosely. “Oh mi amor, no p..p..problem, hold on I will come down and let you in.” before you had a chance to bring your body back into the house you heard her again, “You left me.” your heart cracked into two. You didn’t reply but instead hurried downstairs into the moonlit garden. She stood there, with all her muscle and height, looking everything like a toddler who was lost in a supermarket. You took her hand in yours and used your other to cup her cheek. “Oh, mi amor I didn’t leave you, I thought you wanted some space.” Maybe you expected her to agree, maybe you expected her to disagree and shout at you for getting it so wrong. You didnt realise that you were to her, like an umbrella in the rain, protecting her from the downpour. With you gone she drowned in the grief. You didn’t expect her lip to tremble and her to burst into tears. “I want my papa.”  Those 4 words broke your heart as you huddled her into your arms, rocking lightly to bring her confort. There was nothing you could say, you just brought her into your bed and held her as she cried, painting her skin with whispers of your love “I know, bebe, I know, I promise it’ll pass, I promise, and I will be here. The pain will go. It will pass Alex and I will be here.” It became a mantra that you whispered into her skin.

As she calmed down you took a moment to think. As you got out of bed and she groaned in annoyance you hushed her with your lips to her skin. “Un momento, mi amor, I have something for you.”

You presented it nervously, unsure of the reaction you would get.

It was a framed picture that you had created. Not like your usual artwork as it was made from coal. Coal from the Putellas barbecue to be exact. It was a sketch of a man in the stands of a football stadium, somehow, eyes beaming with pride, laugh lines visible on his face. A footballer with a long ponytail and similar features jumping into his arms.

It was a scene you had witnessed hundreds of times throughout the years. You didn’t need to see it again to create it. The coal added a haunting and beautiful dimension to it. When you explained your reasoning Alexia looked deeply into your eyes. Holding onto the frame with white knuckles like her life depended on it.

“I love you.” 

And when Alexia scored and helped her team to win the U19 Championship for her country not 3 weeks later. Celebrating with eyes to the sky, fingers pointed. You knew that, eventually, she would be okay. 

So the years went by I stayed the same But she began to drift away I was left alone Still, I waited for the day When she'd say, "I will always love you"

It was as though it had been destined for years but finally finally the news came that Barcelona FC would have a women's team. Mapi had texted you with glee when the news broke out, she knew that she was stuck in her own contract but the fact it existed made it a possibility for her dreams to come true. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, was a free agent. You thought, privately, that even if she wasn't a free agent that she would break every law on planet earth to play for her childhood club. She was offered a contract and signed without any hesitation. A mist in her eyes at the missing presence in her signing photos. You drove with Alba to collect her and all her things from a year in Valencia directly to your apartment. As you unpacked her stuff, Alba on a food run with money you had shoved into her hand, your small flat suddenly felt full. “Alex,” You called, from the living room, you heard her shuffle around and pop her head into the bedroom where you stood, surrounded by boxes. “Si, conejito?” she asked, breathlessly. You took in her smile, that you had missed over the months, the light in her eyes, the ease of her movements. “I am just asking, I don’t actually remember asking you to move in?” You say, teasingly, gesturing to her boxes surrounding you. It was true, you hadn’t, it had just been assumed by both of you, as well as both of your families. A blush rose up her neck, “I mean… I-i-..”. You burst out laughing. “I am just teasing you”. A glint in her eyes took over and you had half a second to brace yourself before you were tackled by an almost 6ft wall of muscle. You landed gently on the bed with a thump. “Well, light of my life. I think it’s too late for that. Maybe I can make up for my rudeness.” Her voice takes on a sultry tone, attacking your neck with kisses, making you groan. “No, No, No, No, stop it you two! Why is this my life!” Well. Alba was back, You groaned as Alexias full body weight fell onto you as she heard her sister. You had a feeling you both had plenty of time to make up for it. Living with Alexia full time was natural. You had obviously had practice from the year she spent in Valencia but you didn’t realise how easy it would be. You knew where to step to not fall over her boots in the hallway without looking. 

You amended your grocery show to include all her weird protein-packed foods. She would help you get ready for work in your evening gowns that you had to wear to fit in at the weddings, and she would stay up to make sure you got home safe and listened as you babbled on about your favourite parts, all the while taking it in for ideas for your own wedding. You continued to make money at weddings, Alexia rose through the ranks at the new Barcelona Femini team. Quickly establishing herself as a calm and serious captain. 

She took her role seriously,  she would study games religiously at home as you would paint or sketch. Your easel set up in the living room or on the balcony. She would rub your shoulders as you painted, eyes set on the TV at the game. The shared time doing your own activities matched you both perfectly. And just like that, years passed. Years in domestic bliss. Spent together and with your families. Vacations in Ibiza and even a pet cat called Pablo Petcatso, or Pabs for short, entered your little family unit. He was a ginger cat who loved a cuddle and loved getting into Alexia's kit bag, he even made it to the training once or twice, and you had to drive over there to pick him back up. Dragging him away from 22 cooing footballers. 

Women's football grew, as did Alexia's paycheck. And with that, you think, looking back, as did the cracks in your relationship.

“We're here!” Alexias excited voice explained, you had pulled up outside a tall apartment building in the centre of Barcelona. She hadn’t shared with you where you were going. Insisting it needed to be a surprise.

“And where is here?” you looked up at the towering glass building above you, you didn’t come into the city much, you preferred the quiet of your suburb.

“You’ll see, you’ll see!” Her excitement was catching, and you found yourself giddy as the elevator took you further into the skies of the city.

“Ta-da!” She presents a huge open plan space before you, the glass fronted living room has views over the city to the sea. You could count at least 3 bedrooms from where you stood in the hallway. The kitchen was sleek, straight lines and clean granite. 

“What is this place?” you ask, confused, taking in your surroundings. “It's our new apartment!” What? “What?” you breathe out. “Don’t you love it?!” Alexia remains giddy, her excitement not fading and she fails to notice your unenthused reaction. Your mind whirred. “Come look, come look!” she grabbed your hand, and pulled you further into the apartment. Proudly presenting each room to you. “And this room. I thought you could have it as your art studio!” “Art studio?” you whisper. “Yeah! Isn’t it so cool, and so much space. Now I wont get cross at you for getting paint all over the kitchen! Pabs will have so much room to explore!” She turns around and pulls you into her embrace, you are still shellshocked at everything presented to you. “I promised you, didn’t I? I would give you the world conejito.” Her eyes are so bright with joy, the smile so wide on her face, you couldn’t help but smile. Yes, the sleek lines, the large space, and the modern kitchen were beautiful. You didn’t see it for yourself, you preferred your terracotta tiled balcony and your plants overtaking your kitchenette. You loved painting in your living room when Alexia would watch a match. Pabs crawling over your shoulders, your little bubble with your family. But you could see how proud Alex was of herself, of what she had achieved. You must have taken a moment too long, as her eyebrows furrow. “You don’t like it.” you said, plainly, “No… No Alex, I do! I was just so surprised. I love it, and I love you.” “Yeah?” her eyes brighten again. You kiss her lips softly, “Yeah.” “Good! And think conejito, maybe one day there would be room for a bigger family?” she asks, shyly. Your heart melted as you nodded frantically and threw yourself into her embrace. As Alexia's career grew, so did the pressure on her. She was often away, it was something your whole relationship had survived, but now, being away with both club and country, as well as in an apartment that had never truly felt like home. You felt lonely. You would come home from weddings with only Pabs to greet you, you would create art in your studio without the background noise of Alexia watching a game, or preparing a smoothie. She would do that in the living area. Nights together were rarer. Your love never dimmed. Alexia showed you in her every movement that she adored you. Date nights, whilst few and far between, were the highlight of your week. Though that soon became the highlight of your month. The one saving grace during this time was that Mapi had finally joined Barcelona Femini and you took it on yourself to be her personal Barcelona guide. As Alexia's fame grew, you shied more into the background. You weren't an extrovert. You would never hide your relationship and you never asked Alexia to but the only social media that you had was that to promote your artwork. Meanwhile, Alexia's followers grew and grew. A few crazed fans had deep dived into her archives and knew of you but that was only a portion of the fanbase. She hated the delving into her private life, and that caused her to stop posting anything of you onto her public accounts. Any trace of you, gone. Before being a footballer, in Alex’ mind, she was your protector, that hadn’t changed from 15 years ago. With 2021 came great change. All of the years of dreams and hard work had paid off and Barca had reached the champions league final. You travelled to Gothenburg with Eli and Alba, a nervousness in your stomach more than usual. For both your girlfriend and your best friend. You celebrated the win with a euphoria you had rarely felt. Everything felt worth it. The lonely nights, the travel around the country, the sacrifices you had to make as the partner of La Reina.

And as she pulled you into her arms after the final whistle, and pulled you over the barricade the same way she did when she scored her first professional goal your heart couldn’t swell more with pride. You don’t want to say that Alexia changed after the Ballon D’or. Because she didn’t. Well, maybe she did, she suddenly sported bright blonde locks which, you admit was sexy, but you missed the softness her natural hair gave her face. By the second Ballon D’or you thought maybe it was you that changed. Maybe it was you that put up a barrier. One that couldn’t be identified easily. But with study it could be noticed. The problem was that Alex wasn’t there to notice. Yeah, you were together, you did things together, you made love and you made memories. You went back to Mollet regularly and ate with your families and you went to games with Alba.  But Alexia was busy. She had brand deals, she had interviews, she had achieved her dream of being the best footballer in the world. You knew she was since you were 12. But now the world knew too. And the world wanted her attention. 

Oftentimes she was exhausted when she got home. She didn’t want to cuddle on the couch. She didn't want to walk around the plaza. She didn’t want to hear about your day. She would ask, but you could tell her mind was elsewhere, in some contract somewhere, so you started to lie. To give answers which would satisfy her without arousing suspicion. Always trying to put her ease first. 

You would decline for nights out with her teammates, you even lied once or twice and said you had a wedding to paint, just to avoid suspicion. Alexia would take your answer as the truth, and kiss your cheek lightly as she left the apartment which quickly felt like it had become your prison. Mapi could see through you. She would try to get you to talk, but she was Alexia's team mate. Alex was her captain. It didn’t feel right to discuss your relationship issues with her. Not when you wouldn’t even talk to the woman in question about it. You found yourself in the familiar seats of the Johan Cryuff stadium taking in the first home game of the new season. Alba and Eli by your side. The first game was always a family affair. With the Putellas cousins in attendance, a restaurant booked for this evening for you all. It was an easy win for the Champions of Europe. And as you stood with Mapi and her new girlfriend Ingrid at the end of the match chatting, Patri bounded over, sweat on her brow and joy in her eyes. “Hola Senora La Reina” she teased you, kissing your cheek, you had been around the team so much that they all knew you well. “Ay, Idiota, hands off” and large, familiar hands wrapped around your middle, a kiss planted to your other cheek as you melted into her embrace. “Congrats bebe” you muttered, craning you neck you see her looking down at you with a smile. “Senora Reina, you’ll come out for drinks with us to celebrate the win, won’t you?” Parti asked, full of joy. 

The attention of the 4 footballers on you suddenly unsettled you. Maybe it was the busy environment. Maybe it was being with Ingrid who you’d only met a few times. Maybe it was Alexias hands around you for the first time in what felt like months. But you struggled to get your words out. “Ah, gra…grac…gracias  for the invite diablo, but m…m…me…” “She’s coming out with mi familia Patri, it’s tradition! You know that! Vamos, I will come out quickly for a drink then join you all, conejito” Alexia interrupted you, planted a final kiss on your cheek and headed to the changing rooms. She didn’t feel you freeze in her embrace. She didn’t see Patri and Mapis expressions change. She didn’t see Ingrid's look of confusion. You felt sick. You felt like you were about to burst into tears. Your throat burned and you struggled to swallow. 

You felt small. You shuffled your feet on the ground and looked up to see Mapis' face had grown furious, her girlfriend's arm had come to rest over her shoulders, trying to settle her but unsure why. You went straight into damage control. Alexia has protected you your entire life. She had never interrupted you, she knew you couldn’t stand when people would finish your sentences. It was the worst thing you could do to someone with a stutter. She knew that. You don’t know why Alexia's endless patience ran out that day. But you knew you wanted to protect her from your best friend's rage. You knew it would happen one day, you just wish it had happened without any witnesses. For both of your sakes. “Mapi, it's fine.” “It is not fine!” Patri backs away from the situation with a kiss to your cheek and an apologetic look. “I don’t know what's wrong with her lately. I am going to kill her…” she moves towards the changing rooms but you pause her with a soft hand. “Maps, please don’t. It’s f…f…okay. I am okay. Ju…just go get changed and go on your night out. I will t..text you tomorrow. Please.” You look to Ingrid for help, you don’t know her well but she has the power over Mapi seemingly, and as she guides her to the changing rooms the small Spaniard seems to settle down. 

Not enough though, apparently, because as soon as she sees her captain again, a flicker of that rage comes back to her. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Mapi hisses to her captain, “Maria, stop” Ingrid tugged her by the elbow, trying to take her away. Alexia looked up from her phone with a look of indignation, yes she was Mapis friend but she was still her captain, and they were in front of the whole team. Her defensive wall immediately came up. “Discuple?” Her eyes cast across the changing room, their team mates continued to get changed and pretended they weren’t eaves dropping into the mini argument that had developed.

“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mapi spat out. “Why did you interrupt her?” Something in Alexia's stomach dropped. Her hands become clammy, her body reacting to the accusation before her mind could. “What? I didn’t. I would never.” she whispers in reply, but more to herself. “No, No I didn't.” she said more surely, somewhat desperately. 

Mapi takes in her best friend's demeanour, the usually stoic and strong captain looked devastated, maybe even petrified? Mapi knew what she had done, but could see that Alexia would punish herself more than Mapi ever could. She stepped away, guided by Ingrid. Leaving Alexia to replay the last 10 minutes, desperately. Mapi saw the moment that realisation came to the Catalan Captain, as she bolted out of the changing room, hair damp, throwing her shirt on as she sprinted back into the stadium. Which is where she found you, moments later. You were sitting in the friends and family section, Alexias new baby cousin settled onto your knee, playing with your hands and babbling to himself. You made cooing noises and spoke softly to him and all her Tias and Tios got rounded up for your meal out. You felt her presence behind you, you could practically feel her anxiety coming off her in waves. You looked back quickly and confirmed your suspicions, her blonde hair damp and wetting her shoulders, her foot twisting against the concrete floor, hands knotted together and bottom lip drawn into her lip, chewing anxiously. “It’s fine Alex.” you said, as you turned, attention back on the baby in your lap. She must have seen this acknowledgement as her body surged towards you, she loudly collapsed into the seat next to you, the anxiety coming off her in waves. “Conej…” she started. “No Alex, I pr…pr… I swear. It’s okay. But I’m currently holding the ba…bab…ba… child.” you take a sigh. “I am holding the child and I don’t want to cry so p…please. It’s okay.” If it's possible. She looked even more devastated. Her whole face collapsed. She hated when you would revert to old techniques to speak, by changing up your words mid sentence. Alexia was your protector. It was her proudest badge. Before she was a footballer, in her mind, she was your partner. And she had let you down. She had done the worst thing she could have done. To an outsider Alexia's moment of impatience may have been a minor indiscretion at most. But to you? To Alex? It was the basis of your whole relationship. You felt safe with her. You had a voice, she said, all those years ago when you fell in love, and you deserved to be heard. And now she has brought that into question. “Can I touch you?” she asked, gently. This brought tears to your eyes and you nodded, whilst still entertaining the baby in your lap with coo’s and a false smile. She touched your knee, the heat of her hand bleeding into your skin. “You don’t need to mask in front of me y/f/n.” Alexia never used your name. “Please. Use the words you want to use. I am here to listen. Always.” You are interrupted as Alexias Tia comes to claim her baby, who you hand back with a last pat on the stomach and raspberry to the cheek. You are trying to avoid the next 5 minutes you know will happen. Alexia is somewhat rude when her Tia offers her congratulations, eyes boreing into your head. You sweep your hair back as you face her, having had a moment to think you get your words out easier. “Alex, it’s okay. It was bound to happen one day. Don’t worry about it. Please. Go out with your friends. I will go to the meal as planned. I promise. Alba will drive me home later.” “No.” Alexia says desperately, clutching your hand in hers, “Let’s just go home, amor. Please.” “Ale I made a promise to your mami. I am going to eat. I will see you later.” you press a kiss to her cheek and wander off towards her family.  As she stands, watching you interact with her sister and her mami, her teammates call her over. She feels torn. She just wants to go home with you. She just wants to wrap you up in cotton wool and keep you in her arms. Safe. But you don’t want that right now, so she turns to do as instructed. Throwing one more glance your way, missing Albas worried face as she wipes a tear from your cheek.

Lonely and forgotten Never thought she'd look my way And she smiled at me and held me Just like she used to do Like she loved me When she loved me

You came home early. You asked if Alba could drop you off as soon as you had finished your meal. She was happy to oblige, worried about your silence the entire meal. You were looking down at your phone as you entered your apartment. Assuring Mapi again that you were fine and she should enjoy her drinks. You go to flick on the light in the living area when a stream of light below the door of your studio distracts you. You push the door open cautiously and see Alexia standing there, looking at your work in progress. It was different to your usual work. A close up sketch of a hand, wrapped around a flower, tenderly, it was in the early stages, you could see the lines of the palm and the blades of grass in the field behind. It was mounted onto canvas on your easel and the splashes of colour you had started to add contrasted against the paleness of the room. She hadn’t heard you enter, too lost in the image before her, but Pabs making a run for the door as it opened brought her attention to you. As you stand there, under her gaze, you struggle to remember the last time you saw Alexia in your studio. Yeah she would bob in to let you know dinner was ready, or that she was heading out, but she didn’t come in often enough to take in your work anymore. Now it wasn’t forced on her in the living space. It seemed Alexia had the same realisation as she broke her gaze with you and gestured towards your painting, and then further, to your desk overlooking the window, where more of your work lay. “You’re amazing. I didn’t… I.” a deep breath. “I hadn’t forgotten but I think I… Got lost? Somewhere along the way?” you tilt your head curiously. You don’t know what she’s talking about. “I have been a bad partner to you.” 

“Alex…” “No. I have. And I’m not interrupting you but I won’t let you lie to protect me.” her eyes go again to your easel. “You’re amazing. You are so talented. You are filled with so much kindness. You deserve so much more than this.” her eyes fill with tears and she looks at you. “I tried. You know? I promise I did. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought this,” she gestures towards you and around you “was what you deserved. And it is. But more than that you deserve everything.” She takes a step towards you and grasps your hands with hers, her hands are cold, you note. As you take her in you see dried tear tracks down her cheeks, and… damp hair. “Alexia, did you not go out with the team?” “How do you think that I could go out with the team after what I did?” she asks, aghast. The reminder of the way the evening went washes over you. Alexia panics when she sees your eyes fill with tears. And she pulls you into her chest. “I am so, so sorry mi amor. I am so sorry” she whispers into your hair. “I have broken something sacred between us. And I will never forgive myself.” she swears to you. Though that doesnt bring you any joy. “I forgive you Alex.” she shakes her head in despair, joining you in tears. “You said it was bound to happen someday,” she starts, “Do not think like that amor. It was not. This is not your fault. In any way. It is mine. Please don’t think that, you deserve to be heard. I am so so sorry. So sorry. I will never do it again, promesa.”  All you can do is nod into her chest.

She pulls you from the room and settles you both into the sofa, keeping the light off, only the skyline of the city illuminating your living room through the large, glassed wall. 

She lets you cry into her t-shirt, soaking it more than her damp hair, and through the darkness you pull away and take in her face, she looks youthful. Gone, the professional make up, the expensive jewellery, and hair darkened by the dampness from her shower. You take in a large choked breath. “We need to talk.” you let out. Fear takes over her features and she starts to shake her head. “No, Mi Conejito please no, don’t do this.” she wails. It is a heart wrenching sound. She thinks she's going to be sick. “Woah, woah, woah” you place your hands on her cheeks and pull her panicked eyes to yours; “Mi amor I am not breaking up with you.” you state, clearly. “I am not. Now breathe with me.” Her eyes steady from their darting around the room in fear, and you place your hand on her chest, making her breathe with you. “Okay, okay… okay. Yes, please. Talk to me.” she begs, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs.  “I feel alone. I feel… sa…sad. A lot of the time. And I know… you y…you aren’t doing it on pur…purpose.” Your girlfriend looks heartbroken. Like she had just found out her entire family had died. But refuses to interrupt you as you speak. But you have needed this conversation for so long, that the words start to tumble out of you. Getting lodged in your throat. Har large hand comes up to that familiar place, and massages the soft tissue behind your jaw. Trying to help you without interrupting. “You aren’t doing it on purpose.” you repeat. She pauses for a moment and doesn't ask what you thought she would. “Why am I making you anxious?” she asks, cutting through your thoughts. You move away from her and settle your elbows to your knees. Rubbing your face as you feel a large hand settle onto your back. You hated your stutter. You hated that it ruled your life, but most of all you hated how it exposed you. You were like a child who can’t hide a blush in front of their crush. “You aren’t, Alexia.” “Alex.” she corrects, “I am Alex to you” she insists, “your Alex. It’s just me, mi amor.” she looks at you desperately. “I feel alone, you are never here, and when you are here physically, you aren’t here in your head. Your head is in the clouds, it is with your agent, with your coach, it is not with me.” you’ve started now, so you won’t be able to stop yourself “it is me and Pabs and, even though you're dumb as bricks bebe, you're a better conversationalist than him” you try to joke, a half smile on your face. Which she matches, hand not stopping her ministrations on your back. 

“I cannot remember the last time we just sat together, the last time that we cooked together. Can you Alex?” you don’t receive a reply, 

“I haven’t had your eyes, look at me, really look at me for months. You give your time so easily to those around you, your team mates, people I see you out with at events. I can’t blame you, this is what you always dreamed of. But… I miss you.” Your speech is strong now; “and I love you. That will never change. But you need to know how I am feeling. So it's fair to you. I feel as though you are bigger than the world. And I am just the girl you saved in the art room.” She is openly crying now. “Don’t say that, you are everything” she mumbled, through tears. 

She knew that she had been busy. But she didn’t realise the damage that she had done. She had been to events, you had been at her side. But. When was the last time she asked about a wedding you’d worked? God, you used to sit for hours describing the beautiful scenes, and she’d store away ideas for your own wedding.  The last gallery you had shown at? When had she last visited your mami and papi, who had been there for her her entire life? She kept you off social media for your protection, but she didn’t mean to erase you. When had she become so god damn selfish. “Amor, I think that somewhere along the way, I had forgotten, and forgotten to remind you. There are more important things than football. Well. Football is second”.

You are thrown back to a memory, a school championship 15 years ago, sat on the bleachers watching your school get destroyed. The lanky football captain sat by your side. You can’t help it but tears fill your eyes. You missed her. That girl. The one you were and the one she was. “But.. you told me once, that I could have both.” she whispered, into your neck, “and you can, Alex. Of course you can. But you have to want both. And at the moment. It feels. It feels like you don’t want me.” “No! Mi Amor, Mi Vida, Mi Conejito. You are everything. Eres mi mundo. I am nothing without you.” she takes a breath, deep and shuddering. “I will fix this. Thank you for telling me how you feel. I have a chance to fix this. Si?” she asks, desperately. You nod, “Of course Alex, and it's for both of us to fix, I should have said something sooner.” She refuses your admittance of guilt and drags you into bed. She sticks to you like a second skin. Moves with you to brush your teeth. Standing waiting whilst you use the toilet. She places a fresh glass of water on your bedside table.You want to tell her to give you a bit of space, but the fear in her eyes prevents you from doing so. As soon as you crawl into your side of the bed she has pulled you into her embrace and the warmth that fills you goes beyond the shared body heat. For the first time in a long time, you wake up in the strong arms of Alexia. She hasn’t moved in the night an inch, and you take a moment to take her in. This is what you missed. Just breathing the same air as her. Just existing in the same space. As though she can feel you looking at her she begins to stir. Taking a moment to come to her senses, her arms grip you tighter around your waist. “Hola, Mi amor” she whispers into the air. Your response is a kiss to her lips, which she steals, hungrily. As you deepen the kiss you feel her begin to pull away. “Lo siento, mi amor, we cannot get carried away. Things to do.” your heart hurts again. You roll off the taller girl and reach for your phone as a distraction. 

You thought, maybe, just maybe, for today at least. You would spend the day together. “Things to do!” she repeats, jumping out of bed with glee. “Where’s your passport”. That grabs your attention. “Que?” you ask, confusingly. “Your passport amor, Vamos!” She had long ago left the bed, and had started moving around the room, picking up various bags which had definitely not been there when you went to bed and moving them into the hallway. She was like a ball of energy, she stripped off her oversized t-shirt she had worn to bed, leaving her standing in just her boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight. Well, you think, at least all the time not spent with you was doing something good. You find yourself in a trance, practically salivating at your view.

A change of clothes being thrown at your head brings you out of your stupor. “Dressed. Go.” Alexia teases you, definitely having caught you starting. This makes you finally start to move as you shrug on the jogging bottoms and hoodie she threw at you. Happily, you note, it's one of hers that you’ve already destroyed with paint marks on the cuffs. “Why do you need my passport Alex? What's with the bags?” “We’re going on vacation!” That stops you, half in, and half out of your hoodie. Getting yourself stuck. “Vacation?” you ask, voice muffled by the fabric. You hear Alexia make her way over to you, then feel her gently pull you free from your fabric prison. “Si…” she gently tells you. A look overcomes her face which you can’t distinguish, then she kisses your nose, softly. “Vacation. Just me and you amor.”

“But what about work?” you ask, still catching up. “You don’t have anything booked for 6 days, I checked your calendar. And where we are going, you can bring all your art things if you need them. I’ve packed the basics in my carry-on already.” “Not my work. Alex, your work. You have a busy week.” at this point you seem to have lost her attention as she turns to your question dismissively. “I cancelled it.” she replies, simply. “You cancelled it.” you repeat. “Si.” “Alexia! Have you lost your mind! You have training, you have that meeting with Oakley - you have the pre-euros media to do! You have a game in 3 days”  you reel off her calendar, watching as she continues to dress and pack her toiletries. She heaves out a sigh and turns back to you.

“Conejito, I know what I had, you don’t need to tell me I have just spent all night cancelling all of them. I spoke to Jona and he’s happy for me to miss the game. The rest of it doesn’t matter.” she moves closer to you again, “So no, I have not lost my mind. But, I did almost lose you, so please. Please tell me where your passport is so we can get on the plane I booked. Mapi will be here in a moment to take Pabs for the week.”  You find yourself standing there, stunned. She seemingly had thought of everything. You look into the hall at the bags packed there ready to go. Pabs sniffed them curiously. She’s looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. There's nothing else for you to do you suppose. As you turn from her and open your bedside table,  a smile can’t be kept off your face, you turn triumphantly with your passport held high. “Voila!” you present it to her; “What are you waiting for then Alex! We've got a plane to catch!” as you scurry out of the room and you hear the front door knock. Alexias cackle behind you. Alexia was always full of surprises when she wanted to be and she remained tight lipped all the way to the airport, refusing to tell you your destination. 

You assumed it would be one of the islands somewhere, with the size of her luggage maybe somewhere farther afield, sun, sea and a pool somewhere promised. But she shocked you. When you got to the check in desk and realised you were flying to Switzerland you could have been knocked down with a feather. Your Alex, who was upset when she even had to wear a bikini top in the month of August, has booked for you to go to Switzerland? 

She ignored your curious stare and just continued to sweet talk the check in lady, upgrading you to business class. As you descended hours later, between the snow peaked mountains against a stunning orange sun you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your hands itched to claim the sketch book from Alexias carry on. Soon, after collecting your luggage and Alexia picking up a hire car that has also been pre booked (seriously did this girl sleep at all the night before?), you found yourself being driven through a mountain forest, as a lodge that seemed to cling to the mountainside came into view, isolated and beautiful. You stood on the wooden balcony, hands gripping a warm drink as you took in the view of the sun setting behind the mountains. “Look at that, Amor.” you felt, more than heard, whispered against your ear. Lips planting a kiss at your jaw as strong hands settle over your stomach. 

You fell back into her embrace. “It’s so beautiful.” you replied, eyes focused on the scene before you. “I saw this advert. Months ago.” she continued. “Just in the back of a catalogue at work. They will have the Euros near here, you know, 2025?” That made you snort with laughter. “Ah, I see Putellas, now it makes sense how you’ve been dragged from the beach, scoping out the environment are we? Anything for that competitive edge.” your teasing is clear in your voice. 

You feel a pinch on your stomach, “No, idiota,” though the laugh is clear in her voice. “I saw that advert and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It is so beautiful here.” you hum in agreement, “But what I could not get out of my head was that I wanted you to see it. I love seeing the world through your eyes.” 

She turns you in her embrace and she places a gentle kiss to your forehead as you feel her breathe you in. “You see things so beautifully, Amor, and then you paint them for the world to see. You are so special.” Your heart melts at the blonde, and you feel some of the despair that had settled into your stomach over the last months shrink. Here Alexia was, at work, flicking through some promotional material between interviews and training, and her thoughts are with you. “And I will not let you forget how special you are, ever. Never again”. You spent those days in pure bliss. You spend the days hiking - her pretending to be as tired as you at the peak of a mountain, she was a terrible actress but you appreciate the sentiment non the less - having picnics, exploring the mountain villages, and on one particularly spicy day, skinny dipping in an isolated mountain lake that a swiss teammate had told Alexia about. Evenings were spent looking up at the stars together, you firmly in alexias lap on the balcony, sharing a glass of wine which you held. She pointed out stars that her Papa had shown her and given silly names to, and you were there to catch her tears. She would complain only minimally that she was cold, and you would offer to warm her up and she would lead you gently into the bedroom. Nights spent in each other's embrace, sighs shared and no alarms to wake you. You would dance around the kitchen, play cards at the table, share wine and stories and just catch up. 

The pit in your stomach mended with each kiss, each peel of laughter and each stroke of the skin. 

One evening, after the skinny dipping adventure in which the footballer insisted that she must have hypothermia and had taken herself off over an hour ago telling you she wasn’t coming out of the warm shower until she had become a prune. You had started to add the finishing touches to a sketch of the scene beyond your lodges window when you felt the blonde return into the room, You eyed her quickly, flannel tartan pyjamas covering her tall frame, hanging over her wrists, matching shorts which are despicably short. Fuzzy socks on her feet. She looked absolutely adorable. 

You didn’t know why she was staring at you though, She moved towards you and you made space for her on the couch.  “You have your glasses on, Conejita.” she mumbled, and you reached up, as though to confirm they were on your face, “I didn’t know you still wore them.” You didn’t, too be honest, but with the long day of fresh air and a strong sun on the mountainside your eyes had grown tired. You shrugged at her, as she placed a soft kiss on your lips. Lovesick look in her eyes. “You’re so hot.” She mumbled, more to herself. You hear though, and the blush runs up your neck. 

You moved to get your work off your lap but she stopped you, pulling you back into her embrace and you automatically moved your knees up to rest your sketchbook there. “Carry on, please.” her chin rested on your shoulder. You hesitated, you didn’t come all this way to not spend time with the blonde, you wanted to soak in every minute. You wouldn’t be happy if she started to kick a ball around in the kitchen. She could sense your hesitation, “please. Remember, I like the sound of your pencil.” she moves your free hand to her bare thigh, “and it gives me goosebumps.” You fell in love again over those 6 days. You never fell out of it. But maybe you both just needed reminding. You felt whole, your communication about how you were feeling had worked, Alexia had listened. You just had one worry though, as the plane landed back in Barna you couldn’t hold it in. “Alex.” you said, before the seatbelt sign came on, gripping her arm lightly. “This was the best trip of my life. Thank you.” Her smile cracked her face, and she looked immensely proud of herself. “Mine too, Amor.” she agreed, easily, her face was peaceful . “But. I can’t go back to how things were again, si? I don’t think I could survive it, not after this week.” she's already shaking her head. “It won’t, I promise. I will not let that happen. Me and you, Si? That is all that is important” you take a moment, “And Pabs.” you amend for her, breaking the tension. “Si, of course” she rolls her eyes, “and Pablo Petcatso.” 

When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart When she loved me

“Hey, Al?” you shout, into the living room as you enter your flat. It's been a few weeks since you returned from your impromptu get away. A busy few weeks. You have been booked up and Alex had to make up for the time she had lost, Barca were still in 4 competitions so the match load was heavy. You could see she was trying though, so that made the darkness that had started to creep back in more bearable. She wasn’t home from training yet. Which disappointed you more than usual. You were giddy. 

You had just found out that your art had been selected to be shown at a huge gallery opening in the centre of the city. An established and high-end gallery. It was a big deal, and it was potentially your big break. You got flutters in your stomach even thinking about the commissions it could make you. Pabs popped his head around the door and you picked him up giddily and span him around, his meow in response you took as a congratulations as you danced and laughed. You didn’t hear the door behind you open but you heard your favourite voice in the world, “And what have I walked into here, hey, a party with my favourite two? Without me?” Alexia laughed.  “Alex, we're celebrating!” you let Pabs free from your grip as he scurried away from his crazy mama. Her arms loop around you as you move into a slow dance, grinning up at her; “Ah, Si? And what are we celebrating?” “I got chosen! For the gallery!” Your feet leave the floor as the taller girl fully brings you into her arms, lifting you and spinning you around in glee, the squeal she lets out is full of childlike joy. “Of course you did! You are amazing!” she plops you back down and attacks your face with kisses. “I’m so proud of you Mi Amor and I am so excited to see your gallery. Oh I can get all dressed up and be your arm piece!” The thought brings you pure joy, the image of Alexia standing by your side, proudly, champagne in hand. Your Mami and Papi and Eli and Alba all present. Pabs in a little bow tie. “Si?” you ask, shyly, much more used to being by her side, “You’ll come? It is in 4 weeks. The 16th. You should be just starting on break.” A shadow of sadness passes her face at your insecurity, “Amor even if I was not on break I would not miss this for the world. If I had the world cup final I would call in sick. I will be there.  I will be the girl with the biggest bouquet of flowers in all of Barna with the lovesick look on her face.” It had been a whirlwind of a month, you had to put the finishing touches on your pieces. 

You have chosen to showcase your best landscapes. 

Scenes from the road to Valencia, The Square in Mollett, Beach Scenes in Barca, Snow capped mountains of Switzerland.

It was the story of your love for Alexia. Told through scenes only the two of you could understand the significance of. 

In the week leading up to the opening, you would spend late nights at the gallery, setting up lighting with Mapi and your Papi. Eli would walk around straightening frames on the walls. As you settled into bed each night, Alexia would open her arms and bring you into her warn embrace. 

You couldn’t wait to share your love story with the world. Alexia was having a bad day. It started bad. And continued to be bad. First, she woke up alone, which she hated. 

She recalled a kiss to the forehead and a whispered ‘I'll see you later’ before she'd dozed back off.  Then she realised that she had forgotten to charge her phone and was therefore late to training. Well. Not late for normal people. But late for Alexia. Then she forgot her socks and had to steal some of Irenes. She had a bad training session and Patri beat her in all their 1v1’s. And then the icing on the cake. She was dragged out from her gym session to do media which she hated. By the time she had finished the changing rooms were mostly empty, with only Pina and Patri left, scheming together in a corner.

“Ah now, Capi! Turn that frown upside down!” Pina teased her, “Ay, come out for a drink with me and Patri, the girls are all coming later, a bonding session before the break!”

And Alexia would usually say no, she wasn’t one for massive social events. But a drink sounded good. And it was the last day of training before the break.

Which is how she found herself 4 drinks in, deep in a booth in Patris favourite bar downtown. Most of the girls had joined them and laughter and chatter filled the roped off space. Something was missing and it took Alexia a moment to realise that there wasn’t a yapping in her ear.

“Ay, Pina, where are Mapi and Ingrid?” 

“They text the group, they had something on but they’re going to join us after. Ah… here they are!” Pina turned as Patri dragged her to the dance floor. Alexia turned to where Pina had pointed and saw Ingrid and Mapi walking towards her. She smiled and raised her hand in a wave, as they got closer she took in their state of dress; “Ay, sexy mamas, it’s only a night out with the team. Why are you dressed so nice? Have you just come from your wedding?” Mapi looked at Alexia. But really, really looked at her. “What?” nothing. “Maria, what? Why are you looking at me like that? Ingrid?” she faced the usually kind woman but she wasn’t met with her usual smile, “What’s happening? Wh-ohmygod.” It hit Alexia like a freight train. Like 10 freight trains. She physically had to hold onto the chair to her side to remain standing.  “No, no, no, I didn’t, I couldn’t have done.” She starts to pat herself down and pulls her phone out, dead, still uncharged from the night before. She holds it up to Mapi, as evidence, evidence of what she doesn’t know. As though it gives her a lifeline. She knows it doesn’t. “Ingrid? Ingrid please tell me I didn’t miss it.” she asks, desperately. The tall girl looks away, as though she can’t even face what the captain had done. “Alexia.” The rage is barely contained in Mapis' voice. “I can’t even look at you.” Mapi turns to leave, but it's as though her anger wont let her; she turns again and spits out; “Do you think she needed a reminder on her phone to know when the Champions League final was? Do you think… I can’t… I have just come from her gallery opening. Her life's work. A life shared with you. And here you are. At a bar. Celebrating, what?  A game of football? A half season well done? Fuck off. Seriously. Fuck. Off” Ingrid grips her hand and tries to pull her away. All Alexia can do is stand there and take it, it's not a hundredth of what she deserves. “No Ingrid.” She pulls her hand free and pushes her finger into Alexia's chest. “You are a selfish monster. She thought you must be hurt. That's what she thought. She thought you were in a ditch somewhere. She almost cancelled the whole thing to run around hospitals to find you. But then Alba saw you on Patris instagram. And here you are. La Reina.” Mapi looks her up and down, pure disgust on her face. “Your Mamis held her as she sobbed. Alba redid her makeup. I would steer clear of her Papi for months if I were you. She is strong, and she gave a speech.” Alexia couldn’t breathe. You gave a speech? She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there.  “Please, Maria, stop. I can’t listen.” Alexia couldn’t take it. She moved Mapis' hand off her chest and ran to the door of the club. One thought in her mind. Get to you. Get to you. “It's too late Alexia.” Mapi shouts to her back. She ignores her. It can’t be. No It can't be. She jumps out of the uber onto the unfamiliar street. The lights to the gallery are off but she desperately tries the door regardless. Banging on it with her fist in frustration. She lets out a scream into the empty street. Peering through the windows she sees wall after wall of your work. Scenes she recognises from her life. Football pitches. Beaches, Mountains. The scene from your balcony in Mollet. It was all so beautiful. So carefully curated. And she wasn’t there. She takes off at a run. It’s not too late. Mapi is wrong. It’s not too late. She will die if it is too late. “Y/N!” she barged into the apartment. She must have ran 10 miles. “Y/N are you here?” She runs from room to room. But there is no one there. When that's established she plugs her phone into the charger on the breakfast bar and makes her way back through the apartment. She goes into the bedroom. No, please no. The wardrobe is open, your side is empty. She looks around. Your things are gone.

The kitchen remains largely unaffected. Though the picture of you and your parents no longer sits on the shelf. Your trainers are gone from the hall. Your favourite blanket from the couch. She looks at the walls. Anything you had painted. Gone. Alexia always insisted that your art be on the walls, in each home you shared together. “Why would I want strangers work on the walls, Mi Amor? When I have the best artist in the world here?” she would say, making you blush. She was addicted to that blush. She walks back into the hallway. One picture remains in pride of place. The picture you presented to her in her darkest moment. You would never take that away from her. It was a gift of pure adoration. All it does is make the stabbing pain in Alexia's heart worsen. She pushes open the door to your art studio. All that remains are paints and blank canvases. Except. In the middle of the room. The easel. A picture she had seen before, in its early stages. A hand. A hand holding a beautiful flower. But it had changed somehow. Pressure lines had appeared. The flower beginning to wilt under the force. It wasn’t your usual work. Alexia stood closer. Entranced. As she inspected the image she saw the light tease off still wet paint. You had touched this up recently. Her eyes search, frantically for anything of your last moments in the apartment when she catches it. Too light for anyone not searching for it. 11. Blended into skin at the wrist of the image. A tattoo. So lightly painted but it etched itself fiercely into Alexia's soul. This was her hand. This hand that was silently destructive, was hers.  She saw a post it note stuck to the leg of the easel and in your looping handwriting: ‘Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting that they won't use it.’

She brought her hand up to her mouth and let out an audible gasp. She runs into the kitchen and dry heaves over the sink. There, she watches as her tears splash into the marble. And as she watches. She takes note of a single paint droplet. Her tears joined it, creating the most heart crushing piece of work she had ever seen.

God. She used to get so angry at that paint in the sink.

It's been years, she thought, years since she found paint in the sink. How much did you have to lessen yourself in order to be with her?

She collapsed into a seated position. Back against the kitchen cabinet. And brought her knees to her chest. She sobbed. And sobbed. She was joined at one point by Pabs. She thought you’d taken him with you. But no, in a typical act of kindness you wouldn’t leave her alone in her despair.

His little bow tie still sat around his neck, skew-whiff, as he looked at his mama curiously. He licked her nose and she sobbed harder.

Weeks passed.

She doesn’t know how she got through those weeks. Thousands of missed calls. Hundreds of messages. Went unanswered.

Alexia didn’t hear from you. Her Mami and Alba had forgiven her after Alba had found her in a state and unable to look after herself but they made it clear they were on your side. Mapi wouldnt look at her. They wouldn't tell her where you were, they wouldn’t pass on any message.

She was too frightened to go to your Mami and Papa.

She hadn’t trained well for weeks, She arrived at training exhausted. Sleep would never find her. She was barely clinging on. Jona still insisted she play. She was La Reina.

And then she broke. And that's where Irene found her, after another match of lacklustre performance. In a back corridor of the stadium. Broken and staring at the wall in front of her.

A ghost of the woman she was. 

Her phone lay next to her. A message from you. A response to her apologies, her thoughts, the pain she had told you she felt for your failed relationship. 

Finally, Word you were alive. 

3 words in fact. “It’ll pass Alexia.”

[bunni-v1]

Past and Future (Happy Birthday Lighter)

🍓Finished this shit at 4:30am, if y'all don't enjoy this I will kill myself. Anyway had fun writing this, it's more of me fucking around and finding out with Lighter's character, but I think it's fluffy and cute so... enjoy lol

TW: Mentions of Death; Suicidal ideation

Info: Lighter x GN!Reader; Angst to Fluff (?) Kinda?; hurt and comfort (i think??)

Word Count: 2k

December 27th. Two days after Christmas, five days before New Year's. Oddly placed on the calendar, awkwardly smooshed between two major holidays in New Eirdu. To most, it was insignificant, just another day. To Lighter it was something he dreaded each year. Between the holiday cheer and the buzz of excitement for the new year, it was nothing more than a looming cloud dampening his mood.

December 27th, Lighter Lorenz’s birthday, one of the worst days of his life.

He didn’t hate birthdays, they were nice when they were for other people. He had to admit he enjoyed getting gifts for others and seeing their eyes light up when they opened it, and the light atmosphere when everyone sang a horrendously off-key rendition of the birthday song was hard to hate. They were celebrations of the life of that person, a hurrah to cheer them into another long year until the next came around. He just hated his own.

Gifts and cake and warm fuzzy sweet nothings acted only as reminders that he was alive. He was alive, and everyone else who deserved to be wasn’t. Another marker of another year since he lost everything. He wanted to pretend it wasn’t there, maybe sleep until the 28th or run away for a while, but the girls wouldn’t let him.

They’d managed to weasel his birthday out of him about a year into his being here, and they made a point to celebrate it each year. Nothing big, they knew he wasn’t one for huge crowds outside of his fights, but still a party where they showered him with gifts and congratulations that he did not deserve. He didn’t have it in him to tell them to stop.

So, year after year he grinned and bared it with as much grace as someone as fucked up as he could. It wasn’t hard to be grateful for all they did for him, but it was always hard to smile and accept it like he deserved it. The nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him that he shouldn’t be allowed to be this happy, not when his stupidity cost the lives of good people – wonderful people, who he loved.

He usually only lasted until Burnice got out the nitro fuel, then he would quietly slip away from his own party to be alone. The quiet was easier on his mind than the distractions of colorful confetti and sweet cake made just to his taste. He liked to sit in the pain, to recede into that cocoon of hurt, as if to apologize to his friends by torturing himself. 

This year was no different, of course. Just as Burnice handed out the nitro fuel, he quietly slunk into the shadows, smiling to himself as the rest of the Sons of Calydon remained celebrating in his steed. He walked his way to his bike, sighing in the cool night air. The breeze on his skin was the only comfort from the hell in his mind.

He let the air out, hand tucking into his pocket to pull out the little thing of candy he carried around on him. The little lemon drops fall into his palm with ease, and he tosses them back with practiced ease. He rarely felt like smoking anymore, but his birthday was always a struggle. The heightened emotions made him want to take the easy route out, to fall back on his old ways and make stupid mistakes in hopes it would make him feel better. Instead of giving in, though, he sucked on those candies like a saving grace. It was the least he could do for his old friends.

As he stopped in front of his bike, he shoved the candies back into his pocket. Taking a second to himself in the quiet of the night. It was almost over, just a few more hours, and the pain would lessen back down to an ache again. A little longer and he wouldn’t have to worry about constant reminders of being alive, and he wouldn’t have to save face for everyone else’s sake.

“Lighter?” A quiet, soft, almost worried voice from behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes softening when he saw it was you. You’d been quiet about his birthday all month, not bothering him with any reminders. You knew, intrinsically, how much he hated it. You always knew everything about him, it was an infuriating quirk of yours that he would never want to go away. 

“Hey, dollface,” his voice just as quiet as he raised his arm for you to duck under, “got tired of the party?”

You press yourself into his side, enjoying the warmth of your personal heater, “I saw you leave and I wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything stupid.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Me stupid? Never. Just needed some air.”

“Is this getting some air just for you, or could you use some company?” You offer, giving him the reins.

He liked the alone time, he wanted to wallow in self-pity more than anything in the world. His head reminded him that he deserved to be alone on a night like this. Yet, your eyes flutter a little at him, and your lashes brush away those awful thoughts like nothing. 

“I’ve always got room for you,” he hums, giving you one last squeeze before helping you on the bike.

The drive is peaceful, the breeze cooling his hot skin like an apology from the world for all he’d been put through. He doesn’t think he deserves it, but he wouldn’t deny the feeling either. Your arms wrapped firmly around his middle, head pressed against his shoulder only calmed him further. It grounded him back in the present, reminding him that the past had long passed and that he still had things to live for.

The Sons of Calydon, who took him in and cared for him despite how distant he was at the start. The Proxies, who took special care to stop by earlier and give him a gift, congratulated him for being so strong and thanked him for his constant help when they needed it. The other former members of his mercenary group who, despite how much he wanted to deny it, held no ill will to him and wished him the best for the future.

And, of course, you curled against his back. You trusted him with your life, and he would easily lay his down for you – not that you’d let him if you had any say. You kept reminding him every single day that he was someone worth loving, that he was more than his past, and that he was the one who could define what his future looked like. It was hard not to picture it without you there, not with how attached he’d become to your little displays of love for him.

Displays like this, following him out of his party to make sure he wouldn’t do anything to hurt himself more than he was already hurting. He smiles warmly back at you as he eases his bike to a stop at his favorite quiet spot. You smile back pressing a kiss to his shoulder before moving to get off the bike.

You intertwined your fingers with his like it was second nature as you walked to the fence at the cliff's edge. From here you could see the endless desert, and the edge of the hollow, the moon peaking over it in an almost beautiful display. He helps you sit on the fence, placing a protective hand around your waist to keep you from falling forward.

Your hand presses his head into your shoulder, scratching at his scalp with such care it nearly makes his knees buckle. Another reminder of what he has that he couldn’t afford to lose. No one has known him the way you know him, no one has ever had the effect you have on him. It was almost enough to make all the horror of his past dissipate in his mind, but a small part of him still clung to it. Unwilling to allow himself to fully forget.

“You okay?” You ask, interrupting the quiet bubble that had formed around you.

He nods, “Thinking.”

“About…?” You urge with a raise of a brow, unbearably cute in his mind's eye.

He smiles, genuine for the first time that night, “About how much I love you.”

You shake your head at him, but you don’t argue with him about how he’s lying, or try and force him to tell you everything. You don’t need to. You always trust that he’ll tell you when he’s ready. It’s another thing about you that he couldn’t risk losing.

You let the quiet fall over you again, leaning into his chest with a content hum. He allows himself to indulge in your affections for now, preferring having you here in his arms than staring aimlessly at the skyline by himself. It was easier to swallow the ache in his throat with you to soften the harshness of the feeling, regardless of whether you knew you did it or not. 

He wonders, hopelessly, what his old friends would think of you. They would like you, he was sure of that. You had a personality that would let you fit right in with their eclectic group. The idea of you smiling side by side with them warms his chest, his heart aching as it fades away. A dream he’d never get to see.

He’s not aware that he’s crying, he’s not sure how long he has been crying, all he knows is that you turn to him and cradle his face in your hands. They wipe at his tears without needing to be asked, another quiet reassurance that you cared for him regardless of what was going on in his head.

Lighter sniffles pathetically as his eyes lock with your worried ones. You seem to know what's wrong without him needing to say it, which he likely wouldn’t be able to do if you weren’t able to deduce it on your own. You frown at him, bringing him down to kiss his forehead.

“I’m sorry it’s so hard,” You whisper, wrapping your arms around him.

He pulls you in tightly, desperate for the skinship you offered up, “It never gets easier. Everything is a reminder.”

“I know, that’s okay,” you press a kiss to the side of his face, “I don’t think you need to forget it, Lighter. I think you need to learn how to live with it.”

He closes his eyes, the hollow where they’re buried fading from sight as if looking at it would blind him now. He holds you even closer, letting your words sink in. Learning to live with it, sounded much easier than it probably was. Maybe you were right though, he’d done so much wallowing and running, maybe it was time he found a way to live with the pain.

“Mistake, failure, accident… it doesn’t matter what you call it,” you continue, pulling him back to look him in the eyes, “It’ll always hurt, but that hurt is a reminder of how human you are. You don’t want to lose that. Remember it, feel it, and they’ll never really leave you.”

You swallow, taking him in with those pretty eyes of yours. It’s not perfect, but it’s what he needed to hear tonight. He presses you into a kiss, soft and light and nervous. He was afraid you’d disappear if he was too rough. You melt into it, indulging him like he hoped you would. This was the only way he knew how to show you his appreciation, words would never be enough to display how deeply he cared for you.

When he pulled away you were breathless, face flushed from lack of oxygen, and indescribably beautiful. He smiled subconsciously at you, and you returned the look with all the love and admiration in the world.

“Happy Birthday Lighter,” You say soft as the wind still tussling your hair, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” He repeats back, and he feels the ache in his chest lessen every second he spends looking at you. You taught him a lot since he met you. A lot about himself, a lot about those around him, a lot about you. Most importantly, tonight you taught him that despite his past, he made a future for himself that he should be more determined to remember to protect.

[allaboutynn]

THE SPARK BETWEEN US

💐 synopsis — it was good being the maknae of aespa, they always treated you like their younger sister, well Except one member who definitely thinks of you more than that.

⚠️ warnings: Urm idk why I wrote this in first persons POV but never trying that again :/, 5th member reader, avoiding

💬 Rin: first actual attempt at writing something that’s fic related, yay(?) came up to the decision of making this blog my writing fics blogs and created another for reading and interactions!

☀︎︎☁︎︎ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 ꆭ ᷎ ࣪ 🎀ᩖ ࣪ ۪ ̃ ✿

As I spent more time with the members of aespa, I couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging. They were all so kind and welcoming, always making sure I felt included and comfortable. Karina would often give me advice on fashion and beauty, while Giselle would share stories about her love of food and cooking. Ningning would tease me playfully, but always made sure I knew she was just joking.

But there was one member who treated me differently. Winter would often find excuses to sit next to me, or to touch my arm while we were talking. She would look at me with a gaze that was almost... intense. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I knew that Winter saw me in a different light.

At first, I tried to brush it off as mere friendliness. But as time went on, I began to realize that Winter's feelings for me went far beyond friendship. She would make subtle comments, or find ways to be close to me, even when it wasn't necessary.

I have to admit, it was a little intimidating at first. But as I got to know Winter better, I realized that she was genuinely kind and caring. She would do anything to protect me, and make sure I was happy.

And as I looked into her eyes, I couldn't help but wonder... did I feel the same way?

As I pondered my feelings, Winter's gaze seemed to hold mine for a bit longer than usual. I felt a flutter in my chest, and my heart skipped a beat. I quickly looked away, trying to brush off the sensation.

But Winter's eyes seemed to follow me, and I could sense her gaze on me even when I wasn't looking. It was as if she was trying to will me to look back at her, to acknowledge the unspoken tension between us.

I tried to focus on the conversation around me, but my mind kept wandering back to Winter. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if we were more than just friends.

As the evening drew to a close, Winter walked me home, her arm brushing against mine. The touch sent shivers down my spine, and I felt my heart racing in my chest.

As we stood outside my door, Winter turned to me and smiled. "Thanks for tonight," she said, her voice low and husky. "I had a really great time."

I smiled back, feeling a sense of nervousness. "I had a great time too," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

Winter's eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I thought she was going to kiss me. But then she seemed to hesitate, and instead, she leaned in and whispered, "Goodnight."

As I watched her walk away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. But at the same time, I knew that Winter's feelings for me were real, and that she was willing to take things slow.

I smiled to myself, feeling a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, Winter and I could explore something more than friendship. And as I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but wonder what the future held for us.

The next day, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something had shifted between Winter and me. We had always been close, but the way she had looked at me the night before, the way she had whispered "goodnight" in my ear... it all felt so intimate, so personal.

As I went about my day, I found myself wondering what Winter was doing, whether she was thinking about me too. I felt a little silly, to be honest - I had never really considered Winter in a romantic way before, but now I couldn't seem to get her out of my head.

It wasn't until we met up for practice that afternoon that I saw Winter again. She smiled at me as I walked in, and I felt my heart skip a beat. We exchanged a few pleasantries, but I could sense a newfound tension between us, a sense of awareness that hadn't been there before.

As we began to practice, I found myself stealing glances at Winter, watching the way she moved with such precision and control. She was always so focused, so dedicated to her craft - and yet, when she caught my eye, I saw a flicker of something else there, something softer and more vulnerable.

I felt a pang of curiosity, and before I knew it, I was wondering what it would be like to kiss her, to hold her close and see where things might go. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I quickly looked away, trying to compose myself.

But as the practice drew to a close, Winter caught up to me, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice low and teasing. "You seem a little distracted."

I felt my face heat up, and I looked away, trying to play it cool. "I'm just tired, that's all," I said, trying to brush it off.

But Winter just laughed, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I don't think that's it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think you're just avoiding me."

I felt my heart skip a beat, and I turned to her, my eyes locking onto hers. "Why would I be avoiding you?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

Winter just smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I think you know why," she said, her voice low and husky. And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me feeling stunned and confused.

As Winter walked away, I felt a pang of curiosity. What had she meant by that comment? Was she really suggesting that I was avoiding her, or was she just trying to get a rise out of me?

I decided to follow her, to see if I could get some answers. I caught up to her in the hallway, where she was waiting for the elevator.

"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual. "What did you mean back there?"

Winter turned to me, a sly smile spreading across her face. "I think you know exactly what I meant," she said, her eyes glinting with amusement.

I felt a flutter in my chest as I met her gaze. There was something in her eyes, something that made me feel like she could see right through me.

"I'm not sure I do," I said, trying to play it cool.

Winter laughed, a low, throaty sound. "Don't play dumb," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know you feel it too."

I felt a shiver run down my spine as she stepped closer to me. "Feel what?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Winter's eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I thought she was going to kiss me. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," she said, her voice husky with emotion.

And with that, the elevator doors opened, and Winter stepped inside, leaving me standing there, feeling stunned and confused.

For the next few days, I made a conscious effort to avoid Winter. I would take the stairs instead of the elevator, just so I wouldn't run into her. I would sit in a different part of the cafeteria during meals, and I would arrive early to practice so I could warm up before she arrived.

It wasn't that I didn't want to see her - it was just that I needed some time to think. I needed to process my feelings, to figure out what was going on between us. And I couldn't do that with Winter around, being her usual charming and persuasive self.

But as the days went by, I started to feel a little guilty. I was avoiding Winter, and I knew she had noticed. I could sense her eyes on me during practice, could feel her watching me even when I wasn't looking.

And then, one day, Winter decided to confront me. We were at practice, and I was sitting on the sidelines, taking a break. Winter walked over to me, her eyes fixed intently on mine.

"Hey," she said, her voice low and serious. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

I nodded, feeling a sense of trepidation. I knew what was coming.

Winter sat down beside me, her eyes never leaving mine. "I've noticed you've been avoiding me," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "And I want to know why."

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Winter raised an eyebrow. "Don't lie to me," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "I know you've been avoiding me. And I want to know why."

I sighed, feeling a sense of resignation. I knew I couldn't avoid this conversation forever.

"Fine," I said, looking down at my feet. "I've been avoiding you because...because I don't know how to feel around you. Okay?"

Winter was silent for a moment, and I could sense her processing my words.

"Because of what I said the other day?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle.

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief. "Yeah. Because of that."

Winter nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. "I see," she said, her voice thoughtful. "Well, can I ask you something?"

I nodded, feeling a sense of trepidation.

"Do you feel the same way?" Winter asked, her voice soft and gentle.

I felt my heart skip a beat as I met her gaze. Did I feel the same way? I wasn't sure. But as I looked into Winter's eyes, I knew that I couldn't deny the spark that had ignited between us.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Winter's eyes seemed to bore into mine, as if searching for the truth. I felt a flutter in my chest, and my heart began to beat faster.

"I...I don't know," I stammered, trying to sound nonchalant despite the turmoil inside me.

Winter's expression didn't change, but I sensed a flicker of disappointment. "Okay," she said softly, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "I understand."

But I could tell she didn't understand. Not really. And I couldn't blame her. I was confused myself.

Winter stood up, her movements fluid and effortless. "I'll leave you alone for now," she said, her eyes still fixed on mine. "But can I ask you one more thing?"

I nodded, feeling a sense of trepidation.

"Will you at least think about it?" Winter asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Think about how you feel, and what you want?"

I nodded again, feeling a sense of resolve. "I'll think about it," I promised, my voice firm.

Winter smiled softly, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Good," she said, her voice gentle. "I'll be waiting."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me feeling more confused and uncertain than ever. But also, somehow, more hopeful.

I watched Winter walk away, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. I was glad that the conversation was over, but at the same time, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just made things more complicated.

As I sat there, trying to process my emotions, I couldn't help but think about Winter's words. "Will you at least think about it?" she had asked, her eyes pleading with me to consider my feelings.

And I had promised her that I would. But as I sat there, I realized that I had no idea where to start. I had never really thought about my feelings for Winter before. I had always just assumed that we were friends, and that was it.

But now, I wasn't so sure. Winter's confession had thrown everything off balance, and I was left feeling confused and uncertain.

I decided to take a walk, hoping that some fresh air would clear my head. As I strolled through the streets, I couldn't help but think about Winter. I thought about the way she smiled, the way she laughed, and the way she always knew how to make me feel better.

And as I walked, I started to realize that my feelings for Winter went far beyond friendship. I felt a flutter in my chest, and my heart began to beat faster. I couldn't believe it. I had feelings for Winter.

But what did it mean? And what was I supposed to do now? I felt like I was standing at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take. But as I looked up at the sky, I knew that I had to be honest with myself. I had to acknowledge my feelings, no matter how scary it seemed.

And with that, I made a decision. I would talk to Winter again, and I would tell her how I really felt. I was nervous, but I knew it was the right thing to do.

I took a deep breath and made my way to Winter's room, my heart racing with anticipation. I had been thinking about our previous conversation nonstop, and I knew I had to talk to her again.

As I knocked on the door, Winter answered with a curious expression. "Hey, what's up?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with interest.

I smiled, feeling a sense of nervous excitement. "I wanted to talk to you about what you said the other day," I began, my voice barely above a whisper.

Winter's expression softened, and she nodded encouragingly. "I've been thinking about it a lot too," she said, her voice gentle.

I took another deep breath, feeling my heart pound in my chest. "I have to admit, I was surprised at first," I said, my eyes locking onto Winter's. "But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I feel the same way."

Winter's face lit up with a radiant smile, and she took a step closer to me. "Really?" she asked, her voice trembling with excitement.

I nodded, feeling my heart soar. "Really," I replied, my voice firm.

Winter's eyes sparkled with joy, and she reached out to take my hand. "I'm so glad," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

As our hands touched, I felt a jolt of electricity run through my body. It was like the whole world had come alive, and everything felt new and exciting. I smiled up at Winter, feeling my heart full of joy and anticipation.

As Winter's eyes sparkled with joy, I felt my heart skip a beat. We stood there for a moment, hands touching, and I knew that everything was going to be okay.

Winter smiled and leaned in close. "I'm so glad you feel the same way," she whispered, her breath tickling my ear.

I nodded, my heart racing with excitement. "Me too," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

As we stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together. And I couldn't wait to see what the future held for us.

✰𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐀

[nottriddlethis]

pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Ravenclaw!reader

summary: Mattheo has always been annoying you. So since when did the things change?

warnings: smut, oral (male!receiving), dirty talk, language, 50/50 soft!Mattheo🤷🏻‍♀️, use of pronoun 'I'

author note: dedicated to all these tiktok creators, I love you with all my deepest💞🔥 Green - Mattheo, pink - you.

. ✦ 「 ✦ me ✦ 」 ✦

It always pissed me off how Mattheo Riddle could be so perfect without trying. No, the fact that he was related to a bloody villain who had practically built a new world on bones certainly cast a shadow on him, but he handled it masterfully. He was perfect at Quidditch: dexterous movements, strong back and arm muscles. (all these girls surely were delighted, and that made me even more irritable) And if only that! He had not only strong magic, but also a bloody sharp mind. I bet he would have been the best in grades if he had cared even a little bit about it. As a Ravenclaw, the squandering of such a gift infuriated me almost from our first meeting. And I probably would have let it slide over time, if he hadn't looked at me so condescendingly, so relaxed and so… his way. If he hadn't always inserted his idiotic phrases and smiled so annoyingly wide.

He's been around all the time, barbarically stealing my peace and thoughts.

. ✦ 「 ✦ Mattheo ✦ 」 ✦

Your name is the first thing that would come to my mind if I were asked about pleasure. The pleasure of seeing those brows drawn together in anger. The pleasure of making those lips purse in irritation. The pure pleasure squeezing my cock when you scream at me, your cheeks flushing and your chest heaving wildly. Up and down, up and down. Just like my hand, which would give me pleasure much later.

Because teasing you - is the sin I'm going to die with.

. ✦ 「 ✦ Potions project ✦ 」 ✦

"If you wink at that Gryffindor one more time, I'll brew you into an impotence potion," I whispered sharply, pressing the Potions book hard to the table. His arrogance is unbelievable.

Mattheo chuckled faintly and leaned back lazily in his chair. "Are you jealous, beauty?"

I swear, I've never rolled my eyes so hard before. "I'm annoyed. That's not the same thing."

Mattheo pretended to be deep in thought, tilting his head to the side.

"So, I annoy you?"

"Wow, how did you guess?"

I continued writing, not interested in the conversation anymore. Mattheo, of course, didn't let up. He lazily ran his fingers over the pages of the book. I glanced at how his arm muscles flexed at the motion. Big and strong. Big and strong? I slap myself out of these thoughts. Mattheo then leaned closer, as if he was about to say something really important.

"You know," - he lowered his voice a little, so that I felt the warmth of his breath on my fingers, and I even cocked up my ears, "I think you spend too much energy resisting my charm."

I looked at him from under my brows, my lips pursed involuntarily. “No, I'm just too smart to be seduced by you.”

Mattheo froze, looking at me, and then… smiled. Widely, slyly, with some strange, deep interest. I kept my gaze on him longer than usual because... I've seen him smile many times but now something hot spilled from my chest. The rest is required. Let’s finish this finally. I stood up, collecting the books and getting ready to put them back in their places.

“I know,” - he said quietly behind my back. “That's why I'm crazy about you.”

I felt the heat spread even more and blossomed in my cheeks. I was about to say something harsh, but for some reason… for some reason my lips trembled slightly in a smile. I walked further to the shelves to hide my confusion. Flawless bastard. I felt his self-confident grin behind me.

"Still," he yelled, leaning back in his chair, "Impotence potion won't break me, not after I've seen you."

The students turned to snicker at his shout, and I smacked him over the head with my Advanced Potions Course.

"Keep it up, Riddle, and I'll brew you something else."

"Like a love potion?"

"Oh, aren't you already in love with me?"

I rolled my eyes, but the lack of his usual humor gripped my heart in a vice.

. ✦ 「 ✦ Charms project ✦ 」 ✦

"Is it some kind of ancient curse bringing you to be my partner in every possible project?" you muttered, and as my own ritual, I was enjoying your narrowed eyes, the beautiful wrinkle on the bridge of your nose. Right up until the moment when you slammed your bag on the table and threw off your robe. Damn Merlin would have turned around in his grave. Pure Witch.

I overheard you mutter something like "barely made it after a shower" and deservedly praised the creator of muggle clothing. The blue top with wonderfully thin straps hugged your rounded breasts and outlined your waist. Do you think it's not enough for a rock hard cock? Think again.

You sat down at the table and the mounds of your breasts were almost next to my drool-filled mouth. Just an arm's length away. Bin-go.

"You know, you could work at Mungo's…", you looked up warily at my words, and I continued, "well, treat impotence, for example." "Mattheo…", here was a beautiful blush on your cheeks and liquid fury in your charming eyes. Pleasure when you always switch to my name when you are furious. I watched you leaned on the table and bent over. Breasts pressed against each other from the pressure. And my cock definitely felt it too. "So, judging by how much you mention this disease, it is something personal, right?"

"And will you help me?"

You demonstratively sat back and pulled out a parchment from your bag. This project will be just as long.

***

"… you still double-check my every word. So what's the point of writing?" I tore my gaze from your thin fingers clutching the quill and moved it to your eyes. Of course, stopping my gaze on the cleavage along the way. An absolute gorgeous.

"I just won't include your name in the work," you said seriously. And a smirk determined my next steps. One wave of my hand, and I leaned closer to inspect my work. Your quill, which had just been supposed to write down a list of counter-curses, wrote in my handwriting: Mattheo Riddle.

You frowned. Crossed out the name and tried again.

Mattheo Riddle.

Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you turned sharply to me. "You." How I missed your attention, beautiful.

"Me?"

"Stop it."

"Stop what" I leaned closer, looking at your scribbled sheet. "Oh, my. Apparently your body recognized me before your brain did."

And for about 10 minutes, you tried to disenchant the quill. With each unsuccessful - literally all - spell, the quill wagged its tip and its feathers slapped your cheek.

"If only you'd used half that power of yours to study…" you threw your hands up in indignation. I watched as your breasts jumped with the movement. How loudly would you scream if I bit them now? How deeply would you blush if I pulled that damn top down? How angry would you be if…

A sly smile spread across my face. I looked up, catching your movement. Just as your fingers closed around the quill, intending to break it, I jerked my hand, whispering a spell.

And I was ready to undo in my pants as soon as the tip of the quill rested against your round breasts. You froze, looking at it. It came letter after letter, and it felt like a measured jerking of my cock.

Mattheo Riddle.

Black on your breasts.

And the last thing I remember before I managed to run away from the rage in your eyes is your sweet open mouth, incredibly red cheeks and neck, and the most fucking hard nipples sticking out under the fabric of your top.

. ✦ 「 ✦ Astronomy project ✦ 」 ✦

I had washed off the ink long ago, but for the second week in a row, every time Mattheo Riddle looked at me, my chest burned and I felt every letter of his name. It burned in a way I would never admit, as behind the closed curtains of the bed, I ran my hand over my chest, shuddered, and went lower and lower. And only when I came silently on my hand - imagining his broad forearms, muscular back, and dirty whispers - did the burning calm down.

Tonight, the Astronomy project was separate for everyone and everyone finished closer to 1.30 am. We were sitting at low round tables with food, specially organized for late practices.

The damn feeling that Mattheo knew everything tickled me from the very beginning. He sat at the next table, constantly smiling at Blaise and completely ignoring me. Worse, his body was clinging to a single black T-shirt. And then, as if sensing my gaze, Mattheo stretched - invitingly, slowly - flexing his muscles, and exposing a strip of skin above his belt. For Merlin's sake! I turned away, but only to notice unpleasantly that I was not the only one who appreciated his actions. The girls were devouring him with their eyes. I pursed my lips. Don't you look at him. Just for a second I imagined if Matteo became tired of all these jokes for me, and one of these girls would capture his attention instead. Jealosy washed all of my feelings off.

I came to my senses when I was poked in the side and I heard Mattheo calling. He was looking at me attentively and holding a bowl in his hands. "What?" I whispered with my lips only and managed not to smile.

There were strawberries in the bowl. "Damn delicious. Just like you." Mattheo saluted me with the bowl and groped with his other hand on his desk. I felt the usual tension in my chest, my thighs moved together, my pussy clenched. But I didn't have time to answer him.

"And this is me," Mattheo raised his other hand and deliberately slowly poured thick white cream into the bowl. I watched without blinking as the viscous liquid dripped, came into contact with the pink strawberries, mixed and filled everything.

Gasps of surprise and confusion came from all around, and I could literally feel the girls staring at us.

So keep your eyes open then. I reached for the bowl and snatched it from Mattheo. I looked only at his eyes - blackened and insolent - and brought the bowl to my mouth and took a few sips. Pink drops ran down my chin from the edges of the wide bowl.

It was pure pleasure to watch his eyes open, devouring my movements. His mouth parted and a heavy breath escaped it. He couldn't help but understand my hint, as I did his. I would have given him 100 points for his clenched jaws, and all 1000 for the bulging veins on his tense hands.

Only one thought was troubling me at that moment - if only after the lesson there wouldn't be wet traces left on the fabric pouf under my panties.

. ✦ 「 ✦ - pre-quidditch? ✦ 」 ✦

The irritating tension of the final cup match almost reached the level of irritation at the lack of you. Malfoy doubled the training, Zabini scheduled free time to study strategy. Although the only strategy that worried me was 'how to finally get you'. Undoing three times in a row that night only because of the thick drops on your chin didn't seem enough. The cock throbbed to be inside your throat.

Two hours before the match the mood was furious. I last saw you at breakfast, talking to Nott about something. That's where the rage started. Well, that's pretty nice fuel for an important game, I decided, walking last to the team's locker room. The last thing I expected was to be suddenly pushed into a spare and dark room. The whisper of a locking spell reached for my ears. My cock recognized that whisper before I did and twitched. The whole world went off as I watched you go down on your knees. Am I already the winner?

. ✦ 「 ✦ - pre-quidditch. ✦ 」 ✦

I saw how Mattheo's eyes widened in surprise as I suddenly pulled him to the wall and sank to my knees before him. A light blush spread across his pale cheeks, highlighting his shock at my bold move. Perfect. Perfectly Mattheo Riddle in his tight quidditch uniform towered over me distracted and vulnerable. His breath hitched in his throat as my gaze met his, a flicker of desire mixed with confusion in his dark eyes.

"D..don't think I don't like it but now.., beauty?" he stammered, his usually confident demeanor cracking slightly. Despite his words, his hips twitched forward almost unconsciously, drawn to my proximity. I rolled my tongue over my gums in anticipation and studied him.

He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. His hands hovered uncertainly at his sides, itching to reach out and touch but hesitant to some reason. The dim candlelight cast shadows across his toned chest and abs, visible through his partially unbuttoned team shirt. Merlin help me, he is so flawless. Puppy eyes for such an arrogant nature.

His eyes flicked down to my lips, then back up to meet my gaze. The air between us was charged with a new kind of tension, a mix of flirtation and vulnerability. I licked my lips slowly and almost approach them to his pants' zipper. Mattheo let out a heavy breath, his hands clenched into fists. I ghost the zipper outline with my lips, feeling his groin was already rock hard. I licked it with a tip of my tongue. All along.

His primal groan sent shivers down my spine right into the already soaking pussy. His hands flew up to grab me but..

"Touch me and I'll stop, Riddle"

"No, you bloody witch..." Mattheo pleaded but obeyed. His hands fell to his sides, and he closed his eyes to seek some control.

A pleasant choked moan escaped his swollen lips as I boldly undid his pants in few swift motions, freeing his hard, throbbing cock. Sweet, so fucking sweet finally. It sprang up, already leaking precum from the purplish head. He shuddered, seemed to fight the urge to guide my head down.

"Fuck, please, beauty... if you keep this up, you're going to be the death of me," he panted, his voice strained with desperation. His hips twitched with the need to thrust into hot mouth.

As my hand wrapped around his thick shaft and stroked him, Mattheo couldn't help but let out a loud, wanton moan. His cock pulsed and jumped in my grip, the veins along the underside throbbing with his racing heartbeat. Despite his desperate moaning his words still raw and seducing, "Ohhh fuck... ur fuckin little fingers feels s' good...but bet your little pink pussy is tight even for them."

My pussy clenched in responce, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body. "So think about how your cock will be tightly squeezed inside", i teased him.

His only answer was my groaned name.

That's when I reached forward and took him fully into my mouth at once. Mattheo threw his head back and let out a desperate, whining sound that echoed through the empty room. His cock hit the back of my throat, and he had to bite his lip hard to stop himself from rocking into this heat.

"Shit, ur mouth...'s every lustful thought I had," he panted, his hips rocking slightly as he tried to restrain himself. I loved how his moans are mixed with bold words, "Suck me just like that, you naughty little minx... Fuck, I want to touch you so badly, to grab your hair and fuck your pretty face until you choke on my cock... but I'll be good, I promise, don't stop beauty.."

I enjoyed. Enjoyed as...

Mattheo was practically sobbing with need, his voice a desperate wreck as he fought to obey my rule. "Please, I've been waitin so long for you girl.." The sounds of his moans and whimpers bounced off the walls, a lewd symphony in the dim light. He was utterly at my mercy, consumed by lust and craving my touch. So good, Merlin, so good. What took me so long to fall for him? So noisy, so desperate, so pleading.

So, I sucked him off so boldly and fast, taking him all for myself. Enjoying every inch of his arousal, touching his pelvis with my nose. Damn Mattheo Riddle was finally getting what he was crazy about. And it made me even more wet between my legs. I tortured him even more, gulping him fully far down. Then licking only his swollen head. Repeated that. Repeated. Mattheo's eyes rolled back in bliss as I focused my attention on the sensitive head, swirling my tongue around it and lapping up his leaking precum. The teasing was driving him absolutely mad with lust. "yes, beauty, 'es... just for once 'm gonna be a good one.."

Then I finally whispered those two magical words - "Touch me" - and Mattheo didn't hesitate. His hands flew to my hair, gripping it roughly as he finally allowed himself to thrust widely into my eager mouth. He set a fast, almost punishing pace, his heavy balls slapping against my chin with each pump of his hips.

"Hell yeah, fucking witch.. my little hussy," Mattheo growled, his voice ragged and desperate. He pulled my head up, forcing his cock deeper as he chased his rapidly approaching orgasm.

"'m gonna fuck ur mouth 'til you can't breathe, 'til all you can taste 's my cum. Drink it all down like the greedy hussy you are." And then his hands were more rough in my hair, his hips thrusting more wide.

I was suffocating. But it was nothing because I had not eaten anything since yesterday evening, I could now take him without any particular obstacles. I plot it enjoyably. The gag reflex perfectly bypassed his cock. The small room filled with the obscene sounds of his flesh slapping against mine, mixed with his guttural moans. Wild, desperate, whining my Mattheo. A few more furious thrusts later, Mattheo let out a long, low groan that seemed to come from the depths of his being. His cock pulsed and throbbed violently before he slammed deep into my throat and came abundantly. Sticky, warm, lovely seed flowed down my throat while he trembled and cursed non-stop.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, ma beautiful chippy...fuckin long s' fuckin long 've been waitin for you" His voice, his body were shaking after orgasm, mouth spitting out unconscious links of words.

As the last spurts dribbled out, Mattheo collapsed down to the floor, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His grip on my hair loosened "Ohhhh fuck... only dreamt abou..." he stopped mid-word because I kissed him fiercely, licking and marking his lips. I was so horny, so needy for his touch but he had to win this match, so I pulled away and stood up.

His eyes watched as a thin, shiny thread of my juices hung from under my skirt to my knee. And he, still sitting on the floor, reached up and licked it off my knee with his hot tongue. The shiver of subsequent events after the match made me bite my lip.

"The winner will take all." His voice was low and confident. I knew - he would do both:

Win this match right now.

And take me then.

[tulip-room]

"You're late" "I know...I'm sorry."

Pairing: Sakusa x Reader

Words: 3k

Content: Sakusa falls out of love with you. You realize it too no matter how much he would like to pretend you don't. Eventually he realizes he was just scared. Hopefully he isn't too late.

a/n: I wrote this because my lovely mutual @hiraethwa asked me for it. I of course had to take the chance to write angst. As you can see I didn't stop myself and it's a bit longer than my stories usually are. I hope you guys enjoy it!

It’s almost poetic that the things that made you fall in love with someone are the same reasons you fall out of love with them. Their passion for their job turns into fights about not making time for each other. Their cleanliness turns into fights about how you don’t do the dishes properly. Them speaking their mind turns into hurtful words that neither can take back. Things that with the right communication wouldn’t be so bad. But that was another bad habit the two of you had.

Not talking to each other after getting mad. You were always the one to “fix” it though. Putting a bandaid on a broken glass never gets rid of the crack though. 

Sakusa thinks these are the sorts of things that force him to take off his rose tinted glasses, ones that had turned muddy and foggy, and look at you. You leaving the dishes overnight in the sink because work was so exhausting now made him upset. He was exhausted when he got home but still managed to clean up after himself. You drooling in your sleep used to be cute but now all he can think of is how disgusting he feels. 

You disgust him. 

He used to let you lay up against him because your touch used to bring him comfort. Now it makes his skin crawl. 

You’re not blind. You can see the way he has started to recoil when he thinks you’re going to touch him. The walls of your home have started to lose their warmth. The blankets not holding in their warmth like they used to. You shiver even when the house is set to 80. Sakusa’s cold gaze makes icicles go down your back. The same brown eyes you used to love. The same eyes that used to look at you like you hung the stars. 

The hands that used to hold you now sit close to his body. The lips that used to kiss yours when he arrived home are gone. He thinks you don’t notice. He thinks that you can’t see how he forces himself to hold your hand in public. He doesn’t want his friends to see what he’s become.

A man who is no longer in love with you. You who used to be the light of his life. His friends aren’t stupid. He would like to think they are but they see what’s going on. They see as your skin turns paler. How your lips are always chapped and broken from biting on them. It’s at dinner that one of them notices the first petal. 

The forsaken petals. Komori wants to write it off as just a stray petal from outside that got caught in your hair. He knows better. And so do you. You know what’s going to happen to you. You’ve started wearing hats. 

It’s the petals that also spur on your next fight. 

“They’re everywhere! Where do they keep coming from?” Sakusa says as he picks up another flower petal that was sitting upon the couch. “You need to stop bringing them in here from wherever you’re getting them.” He never yells but his words hit just the same. It was your fault. It wasn’t his fault that he saw what you really were. Just someone who had managed to get him to fall in love with them. That seemed like a lifetime ago. Afterall, bandaids don’t fix breaks in glass, liquid still spills. 

Here was the result of using bandaids to fix things that are broken. Sakusa was still none the wiser of what was going on. You had gotten better at hiding the petals. You had begun placing them in bags. You almost had done something that would’ve been truly evil. You had almost labelled the bags “What is left of me” and left while he was at work. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave no matter how badly you needed to. You loved him. 

Love really is a fickle thing. Someone who you used to spend every minute with could become a stranger to you again in less than a week. Sakusa felt like a stranger with a familiar face. The man you loved no longer loved you. You weren’t entirely sure how much longer you had left. It could be days. It could be weeks. You just knew that eventually there wouldn't be a you to come back to. 

It seemed everyone but him had realized what was happening. Komori had enough of it. You still had your lunches, it was Komori who had introduced you two afterall. He was still your best friend. He still cared for you. He was sure Sakusa did too. “He just needs some sense knocked into him.” or “Give him another chance, I’ve never seen him love someone as much as he lov-loves you.” Komori had almost messed up during that sentence. He almost said ‘loved’. 

He couldn’t see his best friend destroy themselves like this anymore. That night he took Sakusa out for dinner. They were going to talk about it until Sakusa realized he did still love you. He was going to realize that you were still the love of his life. 

“What happened.”

“What?”

“What could they have possibly done to deserve what you’re doing to them?”

“Y/N?” He rolls his eyes and sighs. “What am I doing to them?” 

“They’re dying.” Simple and to the point. “They’re dying and it’s because of you.”

He scoffs. “What are you on about? They’re perfectly fine.”

“No. They’re not. They’re dying. Why don’t you love them anymore? Tell me why.” Komori looks at Sakusa in a serious way. He would answer this question. 

“I don’t know. They’re annoying. The things I used to find charming aren’t anymore. They never do the dishes, we’re always fighting and they try to ``fix” it-” he puts quotes around the world. “Taping up a broken window doesn’t mean it never broke.”

Komori shakes his head. “They annoy you? That’s what caused you to decide you don’t love them anymore? You realize it takes two people to break and fix a relationship.” Him saying that made Sakusa roll his eyes again. He looked out the window. He was starting to tune his cousin out. 

Sakusa wasn’t the problem here. It was that you were too demanding. You were too much. You always wanted more. Volleyball season started up again so he couldn’t have as many dates with you. He thought you would be used to it by now. You had been fine with it for the past few years. Why the sudden change now? He thinks back.

The first year of you two being together was perfect. The two of you had communicated what you needed and what you expected. The first time he had missed a date he had texted you not even five minutes later letting you know the situation and that he would try better next time. By the third week of this happening you had learned he wasn’t able to focus on two things at once. Or more accurately he couldn’t focus on you and volleyball. That was fine. You can’t expect to be the center of his universe all the time. He always abologized for the dates he did miss. Once volleyball season was over you found that he was all yours again. 

By year two you hoped it would be different. It wasn’t. Once again it started out fine. Text messages to let you know he wouldn’t be able to make it. You still weren’t upset enough to really fight about it yet though. He would bring you gifts the next day to apologize. A kiss and a sorry attached to whatever gadget he had gotten you. 

By year three the gifts made you angry. He had time to go out and get a gift but not enough time to show up for one date? He was tired, you would tell yourself. It’s not you, he’s just busy. Maybe you’re lazy. Maybe you’re the problem. Maybe he just didn’t want to be around someone as needy as you. Who would to be honest? This was the year you had finally brought it up to him. A mistake. 

“I can’t do this Kiyoomi.”

“Can’t do what?” “This. I know that volleyball is important to you but I want to feel important too.” You pleaded with him.

“You are. I’m here right now aren’t I? Let’s go on a date now.” He sighed and he turned off the TV and started getting up.

It was no use. He wasn’t going to understand. You still felt like an afterthought. You didn’t think it would ever change. What was the point of it all? Maybe you should just leave. Maybe then you could find someone who would make you feel like you were enough. 

This was also the year you downloaded a dating app. You couldn’t bring yourself to actually ever open it though. No matter how insignificant you felt you would never do this to him. You couldn’t live with yourself if you did this. 

The app was deleted almost as quickly as it had finished downloading. 

Maybe what he really needed was just more. More than you had. Someone who was able to understand his love for volleyball. That it was his love first and it would be his last as well. No matter. In a few more months he would be yours again. In a few more months he would act like nothing had ever happened. In a few more months he would apologize with gifts that made your stomach churn and with sweet words that left a bad taste in your mouth. 

Year four. This year. This was the year that he hadn’t come back to you. The year he hadn’t returned to being your sweet wonderful boyfriend. You had waited until after volleyball season to plan a date but he had gotten so used to not having them that he had forgotten. He had forgotten about dinner and he had forgotten about you. He hadn’t even come home that night. You were sure he hadn’t because the dishes were still in the sink. If he had come home he would have done them and then told you off. 

You waited for three hours before you got the notification. It was from one of his teammates. More specifically that they had posted to their story. You opened it and there he was. In the background drinking with the rest of them. He had left you to go drink. Something he doesn’t like to do. Something he obviously liked better than you. 

Your mother had called you the next day to ask if she should start wedding preparations. You didn’t have the heart to tell her your worries. You just laughed with her and told her to hold off for a little longer. You were sure it would be soon. That’s what you told her. 

Now you were dreading the message that she would have to make a different kind of preparation. A funeral. You didn’t understand how someone could do this. How he could go from caring and sweet to cold and distant so quickly. You didn’t know when you had started to feel numb instead of sad. How the cold eyes that would turn to you stopped making you shiver. 

You didn’t know when you had stopped crying. At some point the tears had stopped and your breathing stopped being labored. 

Maybe the change wasn’t as sudden as he originally thought. Maybe he just hadn’t noticed the change until it had already happened. How you stopped planning dates. How you stopped holding his hand as tight. Your eyes had changed. They were once so full of trust and love. Now they were dull. You still held love for him in your eyes, he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was just a joke. 

He needed to rethink everything now. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He thinks about everything. Why did he start loving you in the first place? 

He loved how you always surprised him. That you challenged him to be better. You didn’t let him off easy just because you liked him. Sure Komori was the one who introduced you but you were the one who chased him. It seems like you never stopped. Now he was even further away than he had started. 

Nothing more than a stranger who knew your secrets. A person you loved but had changed and not in a way that included you. He thought about why he had started dating you.

Because you were good for him. At some point he softened. He allowed room in his life for another person. One who could see his ups and downs. Because around you he felt safe. He felt loved and he discovered he wanted you to feel that way around him too. He wanted to provide you with safety. He wanted you to feel loved. He wanted you to feel like you were always enough for him. 

He shakes his head. Funny way of showing it. He had done nothing but put you off since that first year. You had been nothing but supportive. You had understood when he had to miss a date because of practice. Except he didn’t have to miss those dates. He chose to. Every time he missed one was of his own accord. He realized he hadn’t thought of it as important enough. He hadn’t thought of you as important enough. 

How could he have been this cruel? He didn’t think of himself as cruel before this moment. He hadn’t really thought about it. He thought it was for the best that he pushed you away until you finally left. He thought it would be too much work to break it off with you from the start. He knows now that you hadn’t gone away. He had. He was the one who had started every fight. The one who hadn’t communicated his feelings and had outright ignored yours. 

He thought about why he didn’t love you anymore. 

Because you left dishes in the sink? Was that the best he could come up with? He knew why he decided he didn’t love you anymore. Because you made him feel. You made him afraid. You made him feel so safe that he was in a constant state of waiting for it to end.

If he pushed you away first you couldn’t do the same to him. If he decided he didn’t love you anymore it wouldn’t hurt when you did finally leave. He was scared that you would leave. He didn’t love you because he was scared you would leave. Now that it’s laid out in front of him he sees how stupid he was. He still has one more realization though. 

You were dying. 

Those flower petals he had gotten mad about. They weren’t just flower petals. They were the cause of your death. And from the amount of them there had been a week ago, you didn’t have much time left. Suddenly he wasn’t so calm. How could he be? The person he loved was going to die. And it was his fault. You were going to die because you thought the same thing he had. That he didn’t love you anymore. 

He looked towards Komori with wide eyes. “I think I still love Y/N.” 

“You think?”

Sakusa takes a breath. “I’m in love with Y/N.”

“Go tell them that before you’re too late.” 

Sakusa gets up from the table and runs to get a taxi. 

You’re laying in your bed. Numb. You laugh bitterly. Right up until the end you loved him. You gave him all of you. How inconsiderate of you to leave such a mess for him to pick up. The same petals that he had just gotten upset over were the petals of the same flower he had gotten you for your first date. The same flowers that started your love were going to finish them. 

Sakusa was starting to get desperate. He didn’t deserve you anymore but he was going to spend the rest of his life trying to mend what he had broken if that’s what it took. You weren’t picking up your phone. “Come on. Pick up. Please, pick up.”

The phone was ringing beside you but you didn’t have the energy to reach it. You barely had the energy to keep your eyes open anymore.

Sakusa bursts through the door. His breath is uneven and rapid. He scans the room and sees you nowhere in sight. He looks down and follows the trail of flowers leading to your room. He felt like it was only your room as he rarely slept there anymore. He opens the door and races to your bedside. 

He grabs your hand and tries to catch his breath. “Y/N. Please. Open your eyes. I’m so sorry.”

Nothing. 

“Please. I love you. I know I don’t deserve to say that but I do. You deserve so much better than what I have given you. You deserve so much better than I can give you. But I love you. I’m sorry I was so blind before. I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you because now I know what it feels like to not have you and it made me feel so empty. I know I’m being so selfish. I don’t deserve you. You. Beautiful you who lights up every room they’re in. You who loved me even though I only kept hurting you. Please Y/N. Open your eyes. I need you. I need you and I’m sorry that I didn’t realize it sooner.” He’s crying now. He doesn’t deserve to shed tears over you because he’s the reason you’re like this. But he does. He holds your hand and he  cries. 

“You’re late.” A dry, broken voice calls out. His head snaps up. There are those eyes you love so much. 

“I know…I’m sorry.”

“I can’t forgive you yet.”

“I know.”

“I hate you for what you did.” “I know.”

“But I still love you. Please. Just. Love me better this time?”

“I will spend every day of the rest of my life proving that I love you. Even if you don’t fully forgive me for what I’ve done. I will love you and prove it to you everyday. I promise.”

taglist: @hiraethwa @sanaexus

masterlist

rules

[nelle-y]

A love story told through voicelines (I)

C/W: slow-burn, Diluc x gn!reader, reader works at the flower shop in Mondstadt

Note: Part 2 is hereeee! This was so fun to write

(You) About Diluc

The name rings a bell… Oh, is he that one bartender at Angel’s Share with red hair? He owns it?! Hah, no wonder my friends keep dragging me along when he’s behind the bar—they’re setting me up with him! Very intimidating gaze, though. He doesn’t seem like much of a talker. Wait, don’t tell him about what my friends are planning—or what I said about him being intimidating!

(Diluc) About you

I have seen them a couple of times at Angel’s Share, but I never pay much heed. A customer is a customer; they make friends if they want. Besides, they always come with their friends, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t talk to them properly. Would I like them as a partner? Hm… You know where my duties lie. I’m afraid I would be too busy for relationships. Also, some rivaling company or the abyss could bring them harm, so it’s best if I keep a distance.

(You) About Diluc: The first approach

I just ran into him, actually! He was on his way to the tavern, and I was placing down some boxes for Flora. Finally got the courage to greet him, too. … ‘Master Diluc’? No, I just greeted him by his last name. Oh shoot—was I supposed to address him as Master?!

(Diluc) About you: The first approach

It felt refreshing to hear someone address me as something other than ‘Master Diluc’. Their approach gave me the impression that they’re very friendly. It’s not everyday you get to meet someone whose enthusiasm is that contagious. I found myself smiling the whole afternoon.

(You) About Diluc: Idle chitchat

Last night, I had a drink at the tavern—without my friends—and coincidentally, Diluc was manning the bar! Yeah, we had some idle chitchat here and there, but he didn’t really talk much about himself. He’s a stoic man. In an oddly charming way, not gonna lie. Eh… it might just be me, though.

(Diluc) About You: Idle chitchat

They came to Angel’s Share last night alone. I don’t usually strike up conversations, but they seemed approachable. Something about their energy made the atmosphere lighter. I answered a few of their questions, though I kept it brief. I didn’t mean to come across as distant—it’s just habit. Still, it was pleasant. Oddly pleasant.

(You) About Diluc: A little closer

I ran into him again while helping Flora, and this time, he actually stayed for a chat. Well, ‘chat’ may be a bit of a stretch—he’s still reserved, but he asked how the flowers were selling. I tried asking him about the tavern, but his answers were so short! You’d think he was guarding state secrets. But, like… I could tell he was trying, you know? For someone as closed-off as him, it counts as an effort. I’m kinda intrigued to see where this could go.

(Diluc) About you: A little closer

I encountered them near the flower shop again. They seem to have a knack for brightening the mood, even in simple conversations. I caught myself lingering longer than usual—something about them makes the world feel so… uncomplicated. I wonder when I might see them again.

(You) About Diluc: Getting to know

So get this—I was reading a book on one of the benches near the flower shop, and he actually approached me this time! He mentioned that the book I was reading was one of his favorites, and we got to more chatting. For ten minutes—TEN! That might just be a personal record for him. We talked about more books we liked, then our hobbies and interests… I think I made him laugh at some point. Erm—more of a… smirk, actually. But hey, when it comes to a guy like Diluc, I’ll take what counts.

(Diluc) About you: Getting to know

I saw them reading a favorite book of mine recently. We talked for a while—longer than I anticipated, but it felt worth it. We got to know each other a bit, and I caught myself speaking more to them than I do around others. They smile a lot, don’t they? It’s so contagious, I couldn’t help but let one slip. I don’t think they noticed, though.

(You) About Diluc: An invitation

Hahaha! I invited him to Good Hunter with me for lunch! It’s not like I was planning to eat with him, just a casual suggestion. He was leaving the tavern, I happened to pass by, and it just slipped out. I thought for sure he would decline, but… he said yes. Okay, I know it really doesn’t sound like a big deal, but this is Diluc. He’s the type of person who doesn’t go out with people that much. We did have a good time, though. I found out we share similar values and perspectives on Mondstadt and stuff like that. For once, he looked more relaxed… I think he needed that. And honestly? So did I.

(Diluc) About you: An invitation

Yes, I almost declined, as I normally would. My duties often leave little room for anything else, and I’m not one to easily let my guard down. But… there was something in their voice, something that made me reconsider. I agreed, though I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did. Sharing a meal, in a place so simple, with no distractions… It felt beautifully unfamiliar, and for once, I didn’t have to think about my responsibilities. I’m glad I went. Would I go again? If the opportunity comes.

—

[mya-valentine]

if you can write this may I request, (Cyno, Wanderer, Lyney/Diluc (you can pick which one, not sure You write these characters and I don't know your character limit)

That has a s/o who always wore hoodie baggy clothing, when their love deepen, s/o finally took off her hoodie, only to reveal that she has a HUGE BREAST. Like cup G. I wonder what's their reaction when she finally show off her curve infront of them, It's no wonder they always wore a hoodie because they have such a beautiful body like a model.

This is mostly crack request, and can be suggestive if you want lol

Headcannon: Cyno, Wanderer, Lyney, and Diluc With a S/O That Has Large Breasts

A/N: Now this, I think I can do😁 I actually have large breasts myself and have self image issues at times because of it, so this was rather nice to write. Also, there isn't a limit, but please be nice😅 I did all four btw, hope you enjoy

Cyno

Cyno is always perceptive, but the sight of you without your signature hoodie would still leave him speechless for a moment. He's used to seeing you in your usual baggy clothes, which is part of your charm to him. So, when you finally reveal your curves and your full figure, he would blink, trying to process the change. His eyes would widen slightly as he takes in your model-like physique, realizing just how much you'd hidden beneath those oversized hoodies.

Cyno isn’t one to overly react outwardly, but you’d catch the subtle changes—his gaze lingering longer than usual and the faintest hint of a smirk curling at the edge of his lips. “You’re full of surprises,” he’d say with a playful tone, appreciating not just your appearance but the trust you’ve shown by revealing this side of yourself.

He’d make sure you know that, to him, you’ve always been beautiful—whether in baggy clothes or without them—but now that he’s seen your full figure, he might tease you lightly. “No wonder you’re always in that hoodie. Were you hiding all of this from me on purpose?”

Though his teasing would be gentle, he’d still maintain that air of protectiveness and admiration, ensuring you know his feelings haven’t changed—they’ve only deepened.

Wanderer

Wanderer, with his typically aloof demeanor, would likely be taken off guard when you finally reveal yourself without your hoodie. He’s accustomed to seeing you in your comfortable, baggy clothing, which he finds endearing, but the moment you take it off, he would find it hard to maintain his usual composure.

His eyes would widen, and for a brief second, he might just stare, trying to process the change. The sight of your curves—especially if they’re as striking as cup G—would certainly catch him by surprise. He’d blink, his expression shifting from surprise to something softer, a hint of admiration crossing his face. “You—” he would start, struggling for words, “You look... different.”

While his initial reaction might be one of shock, he would quickly recover, a smirk forming on his lips. “It’s no wonder you prefer baggy clothes. I suppose you were hiding quite the treasure,” he’d say, his voice laced with playful teasing.

Despite his teasing, he’d also want you to know that he finds you beautiful just as you are, hoodie or not. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to seeing you like this,” he’d say with a slightly softer tone, stepping closer to appreciate your beauty fully.

Wanderer’s affectionate nature would shine through as he reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re stunning, you know. You don’t need to hide.” His words would carry genuine admiration, deepening the connection you share as he encourages you to embrace your figure with confidence.

Lyney

Lyney is the kind of person who appreciates beauty in all its forms, and when you finally reveal yourself without your hoodie, he would be captivated. He’s used to seeing you in your baggy clothes, which have their own charm, but the moment you take off the hoodie, his playful demeanor might momentarily falter.

His eyes would widen as he takes in your stunning figure, and a wide grin would spread across his face. “Well, well, what do we have here?” he’d say, his tone teasing yet full of admiration. He’d lean in closer, eyes sparkling with mischief, and add, “I always knew there was more to you than met the eye.”

Lyney would likely make a show of pretending to fan himself, dramatically feigning a swoon. “You should’ve told me you were hiding such a masterpiece!” His playful nature would shine through, as he makes you feel confident about your body while still keeping the mood light.

He’d also appreciate the trust you’ve shown by revealing this side of yourself, and his affection would deepen even more. “You’re absolutely stunning, and I’m lucky to have you,” he’d say, pulling you in for a warm embrace, making it clear that he loves you for who you are, hoodie or no hoodie.

You’d leave him speechless, but in a good way—his heart would swell with admiration, and he’d likely be even more enchanted by your confidence in showing off your curves.

Diluc

Diluc is known for his stoic nature and deep sense of responsibility, but he has a soft spot for those he cares about, especially you. When you finally reveal yourself without your hoodie, he would be momentarily taken aback.

As you take off the hoodie and show off your stunning figure, including your impressive curves, Diluc’s expression would shift from surprise to a warm, appreciative gaze. He’d stare for a moment, his usually composed demeanor softening. “I didn’t realize you were hiding such beauty beneath those clothes,” he’d say, his voice low and sincere, conveying both admiration and affection.

His cheeks might flush slightly, betraying his typical calm, as he approaches you. “You’re breathtaking,” he would add, his tone more serious now, ensuring you know that he truly means it. He would step closer, gently taking your hands in his, and his gaze would linger, not just on your figure but also on your face, reflecting how deeply he cares for you.

Diluc would make sure to reassure you with his actions. “You don’t have to hide,” he’d say softly, wanting you to feel comfortable in your own skin. His protective instincts would kick in, and he might instinctively wrap an arm around you, pulling you close, as if to shield you from any outside judgment.

He would emphasize that he loves you for who you are, both inside and out, and he’d enjoy every moment of seeing this new side of you, encouraging your confidence and showing just how much he cherishes you.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[knavesflames]

hiii I really really love your writing and i just read your post about insecure reader x arlecchino ! 🫶 i was wondering if you would be willing to write something similar but with a reader insecure about the opposite, being too feminine/curvy like having wide hips, a tummy and big thighs, it's ok if not tho, thank you for reading 💗

Of course!! As a curvy gal myself I can resonate with this HARD. There aren’t super many who write curvy reader (and the ones who do slay, btw) so I am more than happy to write this. I’ve actually been excited for this ever since I received this ask.

Contents: insecure curvy reader, arlecchino being arlecchino, fluff with a hint of sadness sprinkled in

Word count: 1120

Writing utc!

Having dragged Arlecchino along to a lunch with your friends, you’d think you’d be happier than you are right now. Arlecchino is not like your friends in the slightest, them laughing and talking loudly with playful slaps on each other's arm as they melt in hysterical laughter. You suppose that is why Arlecchino zeroes in you and your behaviour now. Arlecchino is usually the quiet one, cracking a small smirk at a joke or huffing in laughter occasionally, you being the bridge between hysterically happy and Arlecchino’s level of calm. And yet, there you sit, poking the small salad leaves with your fork, a miserable expression on your face.

She frowns, glancing over at the plates of your friends. Pasta, focaccia, a burger.. why on earth do you have a salad? One that doesn’t even look good, of all things. Her foot moves to nudge you under the table.

“Eat. There is almost nothing on your plate and you look miserable. Shall I go and order more for you?”

You’re quick to deny her offer, a little too quick for Arlecchino’s liking, if she’s honest. She watches you for the rest of the lunch, watching how you smile and say you’re too stuffed to get dessert. She gives you a pointed look when you say that. She says nothing, but somehow you know that she’s not about to let this go.

You both walk home at a leisurely pace in comfortable silence. Feeling the slightest of breezes against your skin and listening to the afternoon birds chirping relaxes you, and it’s always a pleasure to walk through the town. Arlecchino’s arm snakes around you, resting gently on your hip. A silent gesture, but one she does often, one you usually enjoy.

“Don’t.”

The word pierces through the air as you shrug her arm off, continuing to walk in silence. Her eyes focus on you again, your face holding the same miserable look, like you’re about to burst into tears. Her brow creases and she folds her arms over her chest, her tone almost accusatory. Almost.

“What has gotten into you, love? You do not wish for my touch, you did not eat, you lied to your friends.”

“No—“

“If you say “nothing”, I swear to the Tsaritsa I will sit you down and not let you move until you tell me.”

You both walk the rest of the way home in tense silence, her words simmering. You know she isn’t joking, she would. She has done it once before, and it was the longest hour of your life. Of course, she only means well, but sometimes her ways of showing it can be a little.. tricky. You’re home before long, sliding the keys into the door and shutting it with a small click. You know you have approximately five seconds before—

“Tell me. You have not eaten except about five salad leaves, it is 4pm, your clothes are unusually baggy for your taste. Unless you plan on turning into a rabbit, you will tell me what is going on inside that pretty little head of yours.”

Her stare is unwavering, piercing through you in a way that would make anyone shudder and run away. You are not afraid, you know how soft she really is, at least around you, but you know you can’t put off telling her any longer.

“They are smaller than I am.”

“What? You are slightly taller than them, yes. What is wrong with that?”

“No. Not like that. They’re just.. smaller. Smaller breasts, smaller hips, smaller thighs. I don’t understand why I have to be this way.”

You mutter, gesturing to your body, hidden under the clothes. They are indeed baggy, chosen quickly when you glanced at yourself in the mirror this morning. She is silent for a while, clearly pondering. Arlecchino has a tendency to be blunt, a little too blunt, and it’s obvious she’s trying to soften her words.

“That is true. That does not make you any less beautiful. You are very feminine. I enjoy that.”

You stare at the floor, sniffling a little. It takes her a few seconds to realise you are crying, albeit trying to hide it to the best of your ability. But she is vigilant, she knows. She always knows.

“It is not a bad thing to have the body you have. You are healthy, you just have curves. Many people have surgery to get what you have naturally.”

“They can have it. I don’t want them.”

“Stop. I do not want to hear this nonsense. It is ridiculous. You..”

She walks behind you, pressing her lips to the nape of her neck. You swat her hand away when it brushes your arm, but she tuts and brings it back, gently caressing the skin.

“You are stunning. Your breasts are perfect. They are full and I can hold them in my hands just right. If I must admit, they are good to lay on. They are soft, and they move with your breathing.”

Her hands move, tracing the outline of your breasts through the baggy shirt. She traces a heart before she moves downwards.

“Your hips are beautiful. They are wonderful to hold, both when I come up behind you while you back, and while you are on top of me doing things only we speak about. And, they will be perfect, should we have a child.”

“Your stomach is wonderful. I enjoy massaging it, kissing it, and it may or may not be a weakness of mine when you wear those lovely dresses I know you own.”

Arlecchino’s hands gently knead the skin of your stomach as your tears slowly come to a stop. You can’t help but feel a little better knowing that the person you love finds you just as attractive as you hope she would.

“Your thighs, my god. They are so plush and you know how I love nipping at them, leaving pretty marks only you can see. I love feeling them next to either side of my head, feeling them clench around my head when.. well, you are aware, are you not? Having curves does not make you any more or less of a woman than someone with less curves than you. You are perfect the way you are.”

A small smile graces your face, a smile that always makes her warm inside, though not once will she admit it. She returns a smile of her own. Rare, but genuine.

“I will make you pasta. You will eat it. There is no argument.”

You groan, following her to the kitchen, though you attempt to hold back a giggle when you speak.

“Arlecchino, you.. you lack in the cooking area.”

“Did I ask?”

[koolades-world]

Hey there! I'd Like to request something. So like, MC is an Artist (Style doesn't matter they just have to draw humanoid things) and then they draw the brothers+dateables in their style, what would the reaction be?

hello! sure thing :)

I myself am admittedly not a very good artist, which is my my preferred art form is writing. the only time I draw is usually during gartic phone games with friends, and thanks to my franticness under a time limit it's always very chaotic. but at this point I've just embraced it and it's always funny

enjoy!

Artist Mc

Lucifer

you draw him while he's seated at the dinner table on a saturday morning while he's reading the newspaper and enjoying a coffee

not that you didn't intend to show him, but suddenly he was leaning over your shoulder, staring, and it caught you off guard

as you scramble to explain, he just smiles and sits back down in his chair and goes back to what he was doing to keep being you model

once you're done, he asks if he can at least have a copy to keep, which in itself is a huge compliment, but it's so he can think of you every time he looks at it 🥺

Mammon

during class, he happened to look super cute as always while looking wistfully out a nearby window a few rows in front of you and the lesson was getting boring anyways. next to your notes, you begin to doodle him, using highlighters for color

you forget it's there and lend him that very notebook since he had tuned out that same lesson

once he opens it, he seems himself and doesn't know how to react. he's a babbling, red mess

once he regains motor functions, he shakily declares that it's very becoming of the Great Mammon and that you did a great job. success!

Levi

the two of you are hanging out in his room. he's playing a ruri game and you're lounging behind him, sketching on a bean bag

you're not drawing anything in particular and were searching for an idea when suddenly, the idea found you

levi wasn't paying attention to you, so you could easily look at him and ruri, and sketch them side by side in matching outfits

once he stops for a moment to get a snack, you happily show him the drawing and he does the demon equivalent of blue screening. give him a minute to reboot then try again haha

Satan

when you decided to draw him, the two of you were seating together, with you in his lap while he read a book so he saw the drawing from it's first line to it's last

made positive comments about it the entire time, like about how you captured the green of his eyes perfectly, or telling you his hair looked better in the picture than it did in real life

at some point, he stopped pretending to read the book and sat watching you with his chin on your shoulder

he added cute little notes around it once you were done with little hearts around them

Asmo

he's asked you to draw him jokingly a few times, but never expected you to actually do it the next time he asked

when you tell him if he wants, he can pick something else to wear, he almost strips down so you can draw him nude but you stop him as soon as he started to take his shirt off

he scurried away and was back quickly in a new outfit, and posed how he would for a picture

talks to you basically the entire time you draw, and once you're done, he squeezes you into a tight hug and asks if he can post it on his Devilgram

Beel

after joining him enough times for Fangol practice, you knew it well enough to begin making sketches of him as he practiced

drawing him in action was a little challenging since he never held still, but you were determined

you drew a few since his practice went on longer that day, and got to proudly show him the results

he was equally as proud of you since he thought you did a great job. he asks if he can have one, and if you give it to him, you'll find it hanging up next to his bed next to all his Fangol trophies <3

Belphie

he's an easy model to draw thanks to his lethargy, so you often find yourself sketching him

something about his peaceful nature and natural frosted tips was just so drawable, so you had at least a few pages full of him napping in various positions with different blankets

one time, he wakes up while you're next to him drawing, and is a little shocked in a good way. he didn't know you viewed him that highly

he's still half asleep, so he just compliments your artwork and moves to lay his head on your lap, then falls back asleep, ensuring you're the flustered one now

[hungarianshinobi]

Ryomen Sukuna x F!Reader - His favourite Obsession

Summary:

"I have many obsessions, but not the finest booze, nor the best fucking drug in this world compares to you, (y/n)"

Ryomen Sukuna. The man who's responsible for many crimes in the heart of Japan along with the other members of his yakuza organization. The man whose heart and eyes are as cold as ice when it comes to killing someone, not feeling the slightest pity for those he sees as a threat. He's the most feared man in Japan for a reason. Everyone knows who he is throughnout the country. His own men are fearing him, yet nobody knows him actually. Not even (y/n), but he knows everything about her. She is oblivious to that fact for a very long time, having no clue that the man of topic is stalking her. His love for her is beyond affection. It's an obsession. The kind of obsession where he would do literally anything for the woman he loves. He takes the phrase 'I would kill for you' rather seriously.

His favourite Obsession - Sukuna x F!Reader

Written by: Hungarian Shinobi

Started on: 2025.04.15.

Completed at: ~Still ongoing~

⚠️EXPLICIT CONTENT⚠️

✓ I only own the storyline of the book

× I do not own the characters of Jujutsu kaisen

Disclaimer + Chapter 1

Disclaimer (MUST READ)

Please don't skip this short disclaimer, there are important informations included within this "chapter".  (If you skip, don't blame me that I didn't warn you about a few things, because I always do.)

First of all... NO MINORS! Or at least no minors who are not mature enough for the explicit themes I am going to write in this story.

So if you are a snowflake and can't handle violence, bloody themes, mentions of murder, kissing, lemons/smuts or whatever that can be included in this category, you should stop reading right here. I'm sure you can find a more suiting book for yourself if you can't handle these kind of stuff and prefer rainbows and sunshine when it comes to books.

I'm not a merciful person when it comes to mature content, so don't blame me if you've proceeded to read further. I'm not taking responsibility for causing a shock or you losing your innocence. ✌️

Okay, let's start...

As in my other stories, I would like to thank you for clicking on my book and giving it a chance! It really means a lot to me! ❤️

What I give in exchange for clicking on my story is nice adventure! Something that my crazy mind created...

Those who have read any of my other stories know what kind of writing style I have, but for those who are new, I'm going to tell a few things:

• I usually write 2000 words per chapter. However there are times when I make it a bit longer if there is a lot happening according to the plot. I think 2000 words for a chapter is the most comfortable to both write and read.

• I am a merciless person when it comes to cliffhangers so bear with me.

• Speaking of which... Yes I do write in my free time just like most of the fellow fanfiction writers here. I have a life, a family with two kids, so please be patient and don't ask for an update when I just updated. (Of course badly waiting for it is something else, but I'm not going to force myself to write if I don't have time or if I'm not in the mood)

• I LOVE drama, fluff and dirty minded scenarios. I honestly live for these kind of themes so prepare yourself if you are as rotten as me when it comes to mature content ✨

• Yes the story will contain smut. (How could I not include any in it ತ‿ʖತ) I know that somewhere deep you all seek for quality smuts just like me... Wattpad as well as other platfroms lack quality ones. There are rarely any in my opinion that are actually great. Those chapters will definitely be longer than my usual 2000 words. Yes you read it right 😌 if you don't believe me, peek into one of my latest stories for proof.

• I won't always put a warning before the chapters, sometimes I forget about it. Oh and be sure to get the whole world's holy water for yourself. (Honestly I think it's going to be useless. We are all going to rot in hell for liking these kind of books but if all the hot anime men are waiting for us there who cares 🤷‍♀️)

• Also I am very cruel because I try to describe feelings as detailed as possible. This is both true to happy and sad feelings. Make sure to always have ice cream in your freezer and brewed tea. If you don't have any, come back here, I am giving them away for free. Extra popcorn and tea is free as well. Choose to your liking: 🍧🍨🍦, 🍿🍿, 🍵🫖

• I do love plot twists and make my readers confused or fool them with these twists so be prepared 😈

Things I appreciate:

💟 I love any kinds of feedback. Let it be comments, votes or messages. It makes me want to write more and update more frequently to satisfy your needs. So if you have anything to say, feel free to do it! I always appreciate it!

💟 If you have any fantasies in your mind you want to see throughnout the story tell me! There are no limits. (If you knew how dirty my mind is you would run away I swear)

A few more things that are important:

° My first language is not English so I apologize for any kind of grammar mistakes, I try my best. (Typos don't count)

° I'm not going to follow the anime's timeline. I mean, there will be a few things included to bring life to my book and be close to the world of Jujutsu kaisen, but this is a fanfiction where I am the boss 😎 Besides, this is a Mafia/yakuza AU. No cursed energy etc in this world.

° You may also find me on Archive of our own (Ao3) and Wattpad so you don't have to dm me and tell someone stole my work if you see the story there.

https://archiveofourown.org/users/HungarianShinobi

https://www.wattpad.com/user/Hungarian-Shinobi

But if you perhaps see my work somewhere else, let me know. I never give permission to anyone to post my stuff somewhere else.

Speaking of which. NEVER and I mean it... Never! Ever! rewrite, repost, use my story as a base or steal it. Any kind of form within the meaning of using my work in anything is absolutely unacceptable! I work hard on my books, please respect my effort and don't do this.

° I do not own the anime/manga, nor the characters. They all belong to the dear creator, Gege Akutami.

° This fanfiction was created for fun and created for fellow Sukuna simps.  ^^

° I do not own any of the pictures and fanarts I put inside the story unless I say so.

° I only own the storyline and a few ocs here and there throughnout the story.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

His favourite obsession - Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Written by: Hungarian Shinobi

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Time for advertising 🎉

Demon slayer/Kimetsu no yaiba stories:

Uzui Tengen x Reader - His Princess: A story in which (y/n) is part of the Rengoku family. Tengen is a teasing, flirtatious bastard and she wants to avoid to fall for his charm. But of course she fails eventually... (Completed)

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader - F#cking Proffessor Rengoku: The title says it all I guess (Completed)

Reliving the past - Kokushibo x Reader: manga spoilers about Kokushibo!! (Ongoing)

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Overhaul x Reader stories:

FORBIDDEN: An alternative universe where Overhaul is not a yakuza. He's a doctor. He's married and y/n has a huge crush on him for a long time. No spoilers! (Completed)

From haters to lovers: Going mostly by the anime's timeline. The title says it all. Spoiler alert! (Completed)

Dabi x Reader stories:

When I was your man: Y/n works as a prostitute. The story is about how Dabi wants to get her back because they broke up. Also it tells their story of their meeting and progress. (Completed) Spoilers about the truth of Dabi!

Our Destiny: High spoiler alert! If you haven't read the manga or don't know the truth about Dabi and don't want to get it spoiled, don't read! Y/n and him know each other since childhood. Toxic relationship. (Completed)

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Chrollo Lucilfer x reader: The Devil's angel

(Y/n) is a young billionaire and she completely and utterly falls for the epitome of gentlemen. Chrollo Lucilfer. First love. (Ongoing)

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Other JJK work:

Fushiguro Toji x Reader - Red flag? I'm colorblind

The title says it all! (Ongoing)

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Thank you for taking your time and reading this far if you did.

-Hungarian Shinobi

Chapter 1

Third person POV:

So beautiful. So... god... damn... beautiful....

He would think to himself whenever he steals a quick glance at the screen of his phone or the monitor back at his home. Yes... He has cameras installed all over the place where she lives and he hacked his way into the security cameras she most frequently visits in order to keep a close eye on her. He wished he had cameras in her home too, because he can't see what she does there inside.

Even from a distance he admires her. He loves her... Or rather, he is beyond obsessed with this woman named (l/n) (y/n).

He only talked to her once in person. In that same moment he fell... he fell so hard in love with her that there's never a moment he doesn't think about the woman he loves so badly.

He didn't even think he's capable of such emotions. That is until he met her on that certain day about half a year ago.

.

.

.

The bustling streets of Tokyo hummed with life, the neon lights reflecting off the damp pavement from the recent drizzle. (Y/n), a petite young woman with warm, doe-like eyes, was hurriedly making her way home, arms laden with groceries.

As she navigated the crowded sidewalk, her mind preoccupied with the mundane tasks ahead, she suddenly collided with a tall, imposing figure. Startled, she stumbled backward, her heavy canvas bag tumbling from her grasp and spilling its contents across the damp concrete.

"Ah-... I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed, quickly crouching down to gather her scattered belongings. Sukuna, a man of sharp features and cold, piercing eyes, knelt down to help her, his long, elegant fingers deftly picking up wayward items.

As they both reached for the same fallen apple, their fingers brushed. (Y/n)'s cheeks flushed at the unexpected contact, her heart fluttering in her chest. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and apologetic. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there."

Sukuna's gaze lingered on (y/n)'s face, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and wide, innocent eyes. He felt a strange sensation in his chest, as if something inside him had awakened and was demanding attention. He gently took the apple from her hand, his fingers brushing against hers once more.

"No, no, it was my fault," Sukuna said, his voice smooth and low, like distant thunder. He handed her the apple, his eyes never leaving hers. She took it, her hand shaking slightly. "Thank you." she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

As Sukuna stood up, he felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to keep her by his side. He felt possessive, territorial, and his mind raced with thoughts of her. He couldn't stop staring at her, drinking in the sight of her delicate features, her soft skin, her innocent eyes. He couldn't explain it, but he felt a sudden, intense connection to this innocent girl. Her pure, untainted beauty was like a siren's call to him, drawing him in and refusing to let him go.

His heart pounded in his chest like a drum, drowning out the cacophony of the city around him. He wanted to reach out, to touch her again, to mark her as his. The primal urge to claim her was overpowering, unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

His heart pounded in his chest as he watched her walk away, her figure small and delicate amidst the sea of strangers. He felt a strong urge to follow her, to ensure her safety, to know every little detail about her.

Sukuna trailed behind (y/n), his eyes never leaving her as she navigated the crowded streets. He followed her all the way to her apartment, noting the address and committing it to memory. As she unlocked the door and stepped inside, he lingered across the street, watching the lights flicker on in her window.

Sukuna's heart raced like a teenager's, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. His hands trembled as he ran them through his hair, his mind racing with unanswered questions. Who was this girl? What was it about her that had him so entranced?

A surge of emotions crashed over him. Confusion, curiosity, possessiveness, and a strong, undeniable desire to know more about her. He felt a connection to her that he couldn't explain, like an invisible thread binding their souls.

Was he obsessed? Is it possible in such a short amount of time? Yes...

From that day on, Sukuna's life was no longer his own. His mind was consumed by (Y/n), his every waking moment filled with an insatiable hunger to know everything about her. He found himself questioning his own sanity as he became increasingly obsessed with uncovering every detail of her daily life. Days turned into weeks. He barely slept, his mind constantly wandered to her, imagining her daily life, her habbits, her smile, the sweet scent of her hair. He felt like he was going mad, driven to insanity by his obsession.

He would wake up in the middle of the night, his mind racing with images of her, wondering what she was doing at that very moment. Was she sleeping? Reading? Thinking of someone else?

Someone else...

The mere thought of another man's eyes on her, or their thoughts drifting to her, filled Sukuna with a sickening jealousy. His stomach churned and his fists clenched at his sides. He couldn't bear the idea of sharing her, even just in someone's imagination.

He became obsessive, finding himself outside her apartment building at odd hours, just to see if she was home. He'd watch as other men passed her on the street, their eyes lingering on her innocent beauty. Each glance felt like a physical strike against his chest. "She's mine." He would whisper to himself, his voice low and dangerous. The thought of anyone else claiming her attention, her time, or her affection made him see red. He found himself growing increasingly irritable, snapping at his underlings and strangers alike when they would inadvertently mention a woman's beauty or charm.

Sometimes at night, unable to sleep, he'd stare at her window, imagining her sleeping form. The thought of some unknown man ever laying eyes on her bare skin made him positively murderous. He found himself inventing scenarios in his head... what he'd do if someone dared to touch her, dared to love her...

(Y/n) is his afterall...

Sukuna's obsession grew like a cancer, consuming every waking thought. He began to stalk her more brazenly, unable to keep his distance despite the installed cameras. He'd appear near her workplace, her favorite café, pretending coincidence. Each 'accidental' encounter sent electrical jolts through his body.

"Funny running into you here..." he said smoothly, approaching her table. His heart hammered in his chest at their proximity, at how the sunlight caught in her hair. "Mind if I join you? I have a few minutes before work and..." he trailed off, letting his eyes meet hers.

"Wait... weren't you..." she started, her eyes widening with recognition. "The man who... ? The apple..." she stammered slightly, putting down her coffee cup. He smiled, a slow, knowing smile. "Guilty as charged." he said, sitting down across from her.

"It's a small world, isn't it?" he murmured, eyes locked on hers. He could feel the weight of his obsession in every word, every glance. He wanted to reach across the table, to take her hand, to claim her right then and there.

"How have you been?" he asked, voice softer than usual. He already knew from his stalking she'd been well, her favorite matcha latte order hadn't changed.

Sukuna quickly softened his expression. "You know what, I should apologize." he said gently, leaning back slightly to give her space. "I realize we've only met briefly before, and here I am, invading your personal space."

He offered an apologetic smile, genuinely seeming to regret overstepping. "I hope you don't mind my rude interruption. It's just, after our brief encounter, you left quite the impression. I thought perhaps fate was trying to connect us again, silly of me, isn't it?"

She laughed, finding his self-deprecation surprisingly charming. "Not silly at all," she replied, picking up her coffee cup again. "You're so funny."

Sukuna chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You really don't think I'm following you, do you?" He teased lightly, watching her reaction closely. She shrugged, oblivious to his ulterior motives.

"No, of course not!" She exclaimed, her eyes widening innocently. "Why would you follow me? I'm not interesting enough for someone to stalk." she said sweetly, completely unaware of the predator sitting across from her.

Sukuna's heart nearly stopped at her innocent naivety. How could she possibly think she wasn't interesting? Every single detail about her captivated him. The way she held her coffee cup, how her eyes sparkled when she laughed, the faint rose color of her lips. Everything...

He felt a primal urge to protect her, to shield her from the world's harsh realities. Even from himself. He was a mafia boss in the dark underworld afterall. And she was so pure, so unspoiled by the darkness that lurked in people's hearts. He wanted to keep her that way, locked away from anything that might tarnish her innocence.

For now, he would bide his time, slowly weaving himself into her life. He'd be patient, meticulous. He'd court her like a gentleman, shower her with affection and attention. He'd make her fall in love with him, blindly, deeply. He'd learn everything about her, from her favorite flowers to her deepest fears. He'd become her rock, her confidant, her everything. And when she was irrevocably his, he'd reveal his true self... slow reveals, designed to keep her hooked, to make her too entangled to leave.

"My name is Ryomen Sukuna. May I ask your full name?" he inquired politely, his voice as smooth as velvet, tilting his head slightly. "I feel like we've had such a pleasant encounter, and I'd like to know the name of the lovely woman I had the fortune of meeting." He finished his coffee in the meantime, placing the cup down gently on the table in front of himself.

"Of course." she replied with a sweet smile. "It's (l/n) (y/n)." She held out her hand politely, as if expecting him to shake it. Sukuna's heart skipped a beat at the chance to touch of her soft hand in his.

Gently, he grasped her hand, lifting it up to his lips. He barely brushed his lips against her knuckles, a subtle, almost imperceptible kiss. But it was enough to send shivers down her spine and make his heart race. "Enchanté, (l/n) (y/n)."

(Enchanté=delighted, overjoyed - french=english)

(Y/n)'s cheeks flushed a delicate pink as Sukuna's lips barely grazed her knuckles. Her heart fluttered wildly, unprepared for the electric spark his gentlemanly gesture ignited. "Oh!" she gasped softly, a startled and pleased sound escaping her parted lips.

He released her hand gently, a charming smile playing on his lips. He could see the effect he had on her, and it only made him want to pursue her more.

He glanced at his rolex which rested neatly on his wrist, hiding the tattoo beneath, part of his façade as a wealthy businessman. "I apologize, but I need to leave now." he said regretfully, standing up. "It was a pleasure running into you again, (y/n)." His voice was warm, his smile sincere... a lie...

Her eyes widened slightly, and she gasped softly, "Oh, you have to leave so soon?" She pouted gently, but her smile remained warm and inviting. Her cheeks still held a soft blush from his kiss on her knuckles. She looked genuinely disappointed that their encounter was ending so abruptly.

Sukuna chuckled lightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm afraid so. The life of a businessman is a busy one." he lied smoothly, his gaze never leaving hers. "But perhaps we'll bump into each other again soon."

She nodded, a wistful smile on her face as she watched Sukuna prepare to leave. "I hope so. I work on the other side of the street, so... I always drink my morning coffee here." she said softly, waving goodbye with a gentle flutter of her fingers.

"Until we meet again, (y/n)." he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity that belied his true intentions.

He'd slowly introduce her to his world, gradually reveal his true nature. By the time she realized the monster he was, she'd be so enmeshed in their love that she'd never consider leaving. He'd keep her locked in his mansion, his queen, his obsession...

The bell above the cafe door jingled melodically as Sukuna stepped out, his eyes lingering on (y/n)'s form until the door swung shut behind him. He took a deep breath, a satisfied smirk curling his lips.

Phase one complete...

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

End of Chapter 1

Comments and feedbacks are always appreciated! ❤️ Don't forget to follow me for further updates!

You can support me and my work on Patreon here: https://www.patreon.com/user?u=104357938

The rest of the chapters (ongoing) are only availbale on patreon yet and won't be uploaded here for a long time! Can be purchased as a collection or can be bought one by one. Further details on my patreon. Other works are available. (Will be uploaded here too, soon.

-Hungarian Shinobi

[jade-bright]

I just thought of this, and it was too funny for me not to share XD

For whatever reason, Arthur's back, and him and Merlin meet Derek and Stiles

Arthur: ...

Derek: ...

Arthur: Does Stiles have magic?

Derek: ...we're not really sure

Arthur, skeptical: And yet you allow him to join you and the rest of you in fighting people and creatures that are much stronger than him?

Derek, raised eyebrow: You let Merlin come with you and with no weapons or armor

Arthur, slightly grimacing: He knew not to get in the middle of any battles and I made sure to protect him, but he had magic, so he wasn't completely defenseless

Derek: Yeah, well, neither is Stiles

Derek: And if he's right, which he usually is, he'll prove it to you when we have to, most likely, fight whatever it is the two of you brought with you

Arthur: What?

-

Stiles: Sooo, you're kinda just me if I was the one who had to keep what I was a secret instead of the Were's

Merlin: Really? Do you not have some ability you need to keep hidden?

Stiles: The only magical thing I've done myself was with mountain ash, and I probably just seemed crazy or high to anyone who saw me using the stuff

Merlin: Oh yeah, I get that, *laughs* I was practically seen as the biggest fool back then, and I had to just keep making myself seem like such an idiot in order to use magic and save the kingdom, my friends, and of course, Arthur

Stiles: Heh yeah, but hey, it's definitely proven to be an advantage for me, the people that we end up fighting always think because I'm just human, I'm an easy target

Stiles: And then bam! I get them when they least expect it, save my friends and we save the day until the next time things go to hell, which I'm pretty sure will be soon

Merlin, deadpanned: can't wait

-

After fighting whatever big bad popped up

Arthur: *In shock*

Merlin: Close your mouth or you'll catch flies, my lord

Arthur: How in the world did he defeat it? He's actually just human!

Merlin: Oh please, it's hardly that different from when I would take care of something and you didn't know I had magic yet

Arthur: Yes, except he doesn't have magic, Merlin!

Derek, coming up to Stiles: Are you okay? How do you feel? *checks Stiles for injuries*

Stiles, lets himself be checked: I'm okay, on a scale of 'when you push me up against a wall' and 'swimming in a pool for hours meanwhile holding you up,' this is less than 'getting beat up in the Argent's basement'

Derek: *sighs, pulls Stiles in to hold him against him, cups the side of his face and takes his pain* Is the first aid in your jeep stocked?

Stiles: *sags into Derek and leans into his hand* Yup, and I'm feeling close to crashing, so give me my post-fight kiss and lets go

Derek: *amused, huffs but does lean in to give Stiles a slow kiss*

Arthur and Merlin, no longer arguing: *stunned, didn't know they were together*

*Derek still kissing Stiles, bends down a bit to hold the back of Stiles thighs and lifts him up. When the kiss ends a few seconds later, Stiles just rests his head on Derek's shoulder and Derek carries him toward the jeep*

Arthur and Merlin: ...

Arthur: *remembering all his fantasies of wanting to do something similar with Merlin, starts to turn red*

Merlin: *thinking about Stiles earlier comparison of each other, also turns red*

(oop, accidently thru in some merthur pinning at the end there, my bad :] lowkey, this could be a oneshot I write after my finals)

[bedoballoons]

I’m back

I’m not sure if you write wlw or nblw/gnlw or anything like that but hear me out

anyway I was thinking, imagine the (fem! Or gn!) mechanic reader (yes my genshin self insert is a mechanic and I’m delulu) with lyney or Furina, or any other characters you wanna add if you want (idk how this works). Where the characters keep breaking things on purpose just so that the reader can come over and fix it and so they get to see reader. The reader catches on and teases the character. (You can make it lead to nfsw or not if you want ;) )

also I’ll give myself an emoji so here’s mine

-💫

I do any forms of relationships as long as they aren't incest or pedophilia! I absolutely love this idea!! I think it's super cute so I hope you don't mind but I decided to make it fluffy!! Enjoy and thank you for requesting <3

P.s Can I call you the starstruck anon?

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Just one more thing before you go~༺}

CW: Super sweet fluff! Reader works as a mechanic and the characters keep calling them up to fix things so they can spend time with them!

(Includes: Lyney, Navia, and Furina!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney kneeled down beside you, trying his best not to get in your way as you worked on the latest broken thing in his home...he just couldn't help it. Whenever he was near you it was like his heart decided to do its own performance, beating faster and skipping whenever your eyes landed on him...because of this sometimes the simple machinery he used in his home...would mysteriously end up not working, "So how goes the fixing hmm? My apologies for having to call you out here again, usually I'd just have Freminet take a look but he's currently busy"

"Seems to me like someone's intentionally sabotaging your heater...they even left the screwdriver inside of it." You turned to him with a sly smirk playing on your features, holding the screwdriver up to him so he could read Freminets name from it. The blush that followed was so adorable you couldn't help but tease him a little, "If you wanted me to spend time with you Lyney, you could have just asked~"

𑁍༄Navia:

"I truly cannot thank you enough for coming to my rescue again. It seems every time you leave the Spina di Rosula has yet another problem to fix...of course it's not particularly a bad thing because I enjoy your company immensely." The beautiful blonde chuckled nervously, trying to get ahold of herself before she ended up confessing her feelings to you, she was honestly shocked she hadn't yet..

"I'm always here whenever you need me Navia, it's definitely not a bad thing for me. I get to hang out with a goregous woman and get VIP treatment from the Spina."

"You're always welcome to anything here at-...I'm sorry did you just call me goregous?"

"Well...I figured since you're always bringing me here to fix things you've clearly sabotaged, it's only fair a make a little advancement myself.~"

The poor girl's face heated up, you'd figured it out? How long had you known?! "I- oh my..."

𑁍༄Furina:

"I truthfully have no idea how anyone expects a archon to live under such conditions, every time I go to use something it's no longer working. If I didn't have you'd I'd surely have left this place for something better by now." Furina talked away while you worked, trying to act as normally abnormal as ever...even though inside her emotions were on a rampage. If only you knew she wanted so desperately to play the part of your lover more than any other role, she'd even sabotaged her own residence so she could see you more often.

"I actually believe I've found a solution to keep things from breaking...if the archon so wished to hear it."

She went dead silent, unable to fathom how you could possibly stop anything in her house from breaking, "The archon wishes to, even someone with my divinity can't even think how a simple human could make something no longer able to break, I'd love to see what maniac idea you've come up with."

"Its actually very easy, all I have to do is ask if you'd like to go out sometime. Then we could spend time together without you needing to break things~"

"I-i what on earth are you talking about? I wouldn't break something just to spend time with someone, I am a archon with a busy life. I don't have the time for such nons-"

"Lady Furina..."

"Yes?"

"You left your glove in the pipe."

"..."

"May I take you out on a date?"

"...yes you may..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧