#but i do know that art and fic and the people i love have kept me sane these last few years
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soupandsorcery · 3 days ago
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all i really have to say is keep making art. keep engaging with your communities. keep your loved ones close, and if you're in a position of privilege, look out for the people in your life who don't have that protection. lift up the people who are making and doing things you love until it drowns out the hate.
that's all we've got at the end of the day.
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fushitoru · 3 months ago
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trouble a gojo satoru fic
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pairing âžș bully!satoru gojo x reader
summary âžș an unexpected tutoring session with your bully satoru gojo leads to somewhere...unexpected
warnings âžș SMUT (MDNI), fluff, slight angst, college au, porn with really mid plot, bullying, humiliation, PANTY INSPECTION, p i v sex, unprotected sex, aftercare, creampie, he whimpers a lot but also degrades you a lot, gojo satoru king of dirty talk it might not make sense lolz, this is not edited in the slightest, didn't even do it a once over, implied that reader is a virgin but not really art by the goat 3-aem
a/n sorry for being so ia. will be answering asks after the ao3 author ahh events that went on this past week T-T as a result this is kind of mid, might delete later, based on this req
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This could not be happening to you. NO, no, no. You must be dreaming, right?
Because Satoru Gojo was sitting right across from you in your math professor’s office, looking akin to a kicked puppy, ears drooping as your professor continued ranting about his late assignments, his efforts to cover his grades up, lost potential, laziness, how he should learn from you—but you were only dreading the aftermath of this conversation, when you were left alone with Gojo. 
Because he was your college bully.
It didn’t get as violent as in those Asian dramas, but you were often left humiliated from the nuisance he was. For example, take the instance when you both first met. 
Head deep in the textbooks you just bought, you were scanning the formulas in an effort to get ahead; after all, for someone like you—dependent on a scholarship to attend university—slacking off was not an option. Only for the nepo trust fund babies—which you were not. There, in the prestigious university you had fought tooth and nail to get into, you were at peace. 
But it all went out the window as someone moved to tap you on your shoulder, making you turn your head towards possibly the most handsomest boy you’ve ever seen but undeniably a spoiled kid. Because what came out of his words were definitely grounds for sexual harassment.
“Are Asian people your type? Because I’m China get in your japanties.”
If crickets could make their way into the study room you were sitting in, their chirps would be LOUD. You blinked, heat creeping up your face as he leaned closer to your face, eyes flirtingly honing in on yours and your lips. Abruptly—-flustered—you stood up, gathering your belongings and apologizing profusely. “I”m so—sorry—I don’t—-you might be talking to the wrong per—” because there was no way in hell he was addressing you. From what you could see, he looked like a rich kid, the kind with a lot of money—something that could land you in trouble. You booked it the hell out of there, ignoring the confused look on his face and missing the disappointment flicker across it as he saw your retreating figure leave his sight.
And thus, your love story with Satoru Gojo—who you soon found out was the most popular boy on campus—started. 
Small encounters with Gojo kept plaguing your first semester. They would be chance encounters, where Gojo would catch your eye in the middle of a crowd and make his way towards you, a snarky grin creeping up his face as he cornered you into a hallway with less traffic. Sometimes even in a closet.
It wouldn’t be anything grave, to say. All he would ask is how your day was, all sweet nothings and cute smiles made to woo you. And they definitely did—but you couldn’t let it show, couldn’t let him woo you.
“What’s your next class, baby?” The both of you were in a janitor’s closet, him having cornered you in the room and locked  the door. You kept biting your lip nervously, the edge of it red and swollen as you peered at him somewhat nervously.
“Uh—I don’t know,” you whispered, darting your eyes somewhere on the floor, so he wouldn’t see the avoidant look on your face.
Let’s get the record straight: you weren’t scared of Gojo. Sure, at 6’ 3’’ with piercing, glow-in-the-dark sapphire eyes, he made you nervous, but you knew you could pine for him at best. Because god knows what would happen if you ever cross him or his dozens of fan girls, some with considerably more power than you on campus. Putting a target on your back while you were trying to graduate wasn’t one of your goals, but trying to pass your math classes with honors was.
And you hated the fact Gojo could read you like a book. Because in the cramped, dark space, his eyes were almost..soft as he put his forearm across the wall on top of your head, effectively caging you in as he steps toward you. You hug your big and heavy books closer to your chest, the squish of your breasts over your top not lost to Gojo who eyes them with lidded eyes. Then, they make their way to meet yours, and it’s like he can see the pining in your eyes. The fact that he’s a carrot dangled in front of your head, something you want but if you ran, you would never have him. A perpetual race to make him yours.
He smiles, gives a soft chuckle. “You don’t know?” he teases you and your blatant lie. “C’mon, let me walk you there.”
But you blurt out an immediate “No!” and then regret it, because hurt flashes across his face. “I mean–” you falter, “please don’t. You’ll be seen publicly with me.”
A quizzical look, one that is so innocent that it makes you want to cry, because how could Gojo ever understand your problems? “What’s the problem?” And then he pouts. “You embarrassed of me?”
“No–no—” you shake your head, squirming slightly from where you were both standing. “It won’t be good for you, for me.” Then, you swallowed, waiting and screening for his reaction.
Praying to whatever gods that were listening to you that he would understand, it seemed that they were answered because an emotion you couldn’t place etched its way on his face until he nodded. A resolute one, yet something that made you a bit
uneasy was in his eyes. Because it meant nothing but trouble.
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Then on went your days. Seven days, in fact, because it only took a week for you to be walking across the hallway, daydreaming about a boy without a face cuddling you in the winter, eating cookies in Christmas. You hated being single and hated the fact you were confined to your academic responsibilities; quickly, your professors caught onto your potential, assigning you to tutor your peers during recitations. You preened at the attention and validation but felt lonely because it occupied all your time to catch up on others’ expectations. In your rumination of your upcoming responsibilities, you didn’t notice the hand shoot out and firmly grab your arm until you were in a janitor’s closet. Yet again.
Shocked, you resisted the unknown person who had led you in here, instincts flaring up until said person turned on the light. 
Gojo.
“Gojo, what are you—” You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence, as Gojo had covered your mouth with his arm, one to avoid causing too much commotion before you were discovered there.
“You said no one could see us, right?” A mischievous—yet yearning—look flashed across his face and it was then you realized his play. “So this is okay?”
No, this stubborn man wasn’t going to let you go—he was going to torment you. In secret.
The only response you could conjure your brain was a whimper because a tentative hand was creeping its way up your thigh, softy caressing the insides of it. All you could feel was pleasure and how it was so right despite it being so wrong that Satoru Gojo, the campus sweetheart, had cornered you into the janitor’s closet to give you the most dizzying touches, some you couldn’t deny.
So when he moved his other hand that was at your mouth to grab at your pink skirt, he lifted the hem with both his hands and then paused. Looked at you with darkened eyes. “Let me do this.”
You could only close your eyes in your flustered state, pinching them shut as you gave him a slight nod. It only took him a millisecond to move, using both of his hands to uncover what was between your thighs, eyes focused and widening as he inspected your panties.
“Pink with hearts, huh?” You could hear the chuckle in his voice, the cockiness basically oozing out and you could only continue to heat up deeper. “I like it, baby.” Jumping as you felt his hands roam and trace the edges of your panties, he hooked his finger in the crotch, your thighs tightening slightly as his index just oh so grazed your bare folds as he pulled and pulled, until he let go of the tension and it snapped back in its place. “Look at me.”
As per his instruction, you opened your eyes, only to be taken aback by the intensity in his. Then, his lips moved. “Be my girlfriend.”
The moment broke as clarity hit you. This shouldn’t have happened. “I’m sorry, Gojo, but—”
“Don’t call me that,” he groaned, stepping back and raking an arm through his hair. “What’s even your problem? Did I do something wrong?”
Incredulous, you utter out a “Something wro—you don’t think you did something wrong?”
He looked at you for a bit, made to say something, but you cut him off. “You know what Gojo? Get this through your head. We can’t do this. I don’t know how many girls fall for this, but I can’t. I’m sorry.” With that, you made to move, but he quickly reached out, pleading for you to stay. You wrenched his hand out of your grip and said, in the most serious voice you could muster, “Don’t ever talk to me again.” And you walked out, pretending you weren’t scared of what would happen after you retaliated against the Satoru Gojo.
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Surprising, all went well for the rest of the semester. You did get some whispers and stares because of the stray rumor or two passing around about you and the mysterious instances when the campus king stared at your figure for a flicker too long. But it wasn’t nothing but passing because you didn’t share any classes with Gojo, and he respected your wishes. You didn’t miss the bitterness in his stare when you passed by his friend group in the hallway, speeding up to shake off the weight of his eyes on you.
So, you were at peace. Until second semester’s Calc III.
You soon realize that with gradients and vectors comes an additional burden, one specifically sporting white hair. Because as you’re pulled into your math professor’s office and see him, you oh so desperately want to book it. 
“And this, Satoru,” your professor pauses and looks at him sternly while gesturing towards you, “is your ticket out of failing. Miss Y/N here,” he gives you a comforting smile, one that does nothing to ease the stiffness flooding your body at the thought of Gojo right next to you, “has the highest grade in the class. She’s a seasoned teaching assistant too, helping a lot of people in her classes next year.” You silently curse, your smile growing more strained as you realize Gojo’s looking at you. “I trust that you’ll be in good care.”
Once the professor finally dismissed you both, you braced yourself, shoving your notebook back into your bag with far more force than necessary. The prospect of *actually* tutoring Satoru Gojo—the one person who seemed hell-bent on making college a gauntlet for you—was absurd.
You didn't look up as you pushed past him, but Gojo kept pace, following you out of the office and down the hall with that easy, unbothered stride of his. "So," he drawled, “how's this tutoring thing going to work? Are you coming to my place, or am I coming to yours?”
You stopped, turning to face him. "My place," you said firmly. The thought of seeing him lounging in some flashy, high-end apartment was insufferable. Besides, at least in your dorm, you could set some ground rules.
He blinked, looking surprised. "Your place? Bold move, Miss Perfect," he teased, that trademark smirk flickering onto his face. “Didn’t think you’d be so eager to have me over.”
"Trust me, Gojo, I'm only doing this because I have to. And there will be rules," you said, crossing your arms. "No messing around, no games—just math."
“*Just math,*" he repeated, his tone playful as his eyes glinted with mischief. “Got it.”
You swallowed, hoping he meant it. "Fine," you said briskly. "I’ll see you tomorrow at six. Don’t be late."
“Oh, wouldn’t miss it,” he replied, and with a little salute, he strolled off, leaving you with a sense of impending doom.
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The knock came precisely at six.
You opened the door, and there stood Satoru Gojo, surprisingly punctual, hands shoved into his pockets and a playful grin on his face. You gestured to the small study area you’d set up by your desk, filled with neatly organized notes and textbooks.
“Take a seat,” you said shortly. “We’ll start with the basics.”
He slid into the chair, his gaze flitting from the textbooks to you, an amused glint in his eye. “You weren’t kidding about tutoring. You’re all set up like a professional.”
You ignored the remark and opened the textbook to the chapter on derivatives. “Alright. Let’s go through this. If you understand derivatives, the rest of Calc III will start making sense.”
For a while, he seemed to actually pay attention. He followed along, asking a few questions, which you answered as patiently as possible. But as the explanations went on, his attention started to drift. After one too many halfhearted nods, you frowned, putting your pencil down.
“You’re not even trying, are you?”
He leaned back in his chair, that smirk resurfacing. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting off the blush creeping up your cheeks. “You needed my help. I didn’t force you to come here. If you don’t want to do this, then—”
He held up a hand, the teasing gone from his face. “Alright, alright. I’ll focus.” He paused, then added, “In fact, to show you I mean it, I’ll do you a favor. Whatever you want. My way of saying thanks.”
You eyed him warily. “A favor?”
“Anything,” he said, leaning in with a grin that spelled trouble. “What’ll it be? An escort to class? Carrying your books around? Name it.”
 “I’ll let you know when I think of something.” You’re dismissive, knowing he’s not that serious about this, playful about this like he is everything else. 
He chuckled, nodding. “Looking forward to it.”
And with that, he finally settled into his chair, this time with genuine focus, leaving you both in the kind of quiet that held a new, unspoken promise—a favor, an IOU hanging in the air between you.
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You don’t know how you ended up under Gojo on your bed. 
Satoru sat close—closer than you’d expected. His knee brushed yours as he leaned forward to study your notes, and every few minutes, his arm would brush against your hand as he reached for the pencil you were using to write equations. Each little touch sent a jolt through you, and judging by the lingering glances he kept giving you, he didn’t mind it either.
“Okay, so the derivative here is...?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you pointed at the next problem.
Satoru leaned even closer, squinting at your notebook. “I think I get it,” he murmured, his face inches from yours, his breath warm as it brushed your cheek. But instead of looking at the math, his eyes flicked to yours, lingering just a second too long.
Your heart hammered as you forced yourself to focus. “Right. So you should get
 uh
 that answer,” you managed, feeling his gaze still trained on you.
“Uh-huh,” he replied, not breaking eye contact. His hand shifted on the table, the back of his fingers grazing yours.
You didn’t move. Neither did he. Your fingers stayed where they were, brushing against each other, the soft, deliberate touch making the silence between you feel louder. Finally, you broke the tension by clearing your throat, quickly pulling your hand away to grab a different textbook.
“So—um, yeah, you’re almost there,” you stammered. “But you missed a step here.” You pointed to another section, hoping he wouldn’t notice the slight shake in your voice.
He noticed, of course. You could see his smirk in the corner of your eye.
“Is that all I missed?” he asked, leaning so close that his shoulder pressed against yours. His voice was lower now, more intimate.
You nodded, trying to focus on the page but finding it impossible with him so close. “Yeah. Just
 that,” you said softly.
“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice dropping even more as he shifted his hand, his knuckles brushing against your knee now. It wasn’t intentional—at least, you thought it wasn’t—but neither of you moved. You felt frozen, caught in a quiet, charged moment, where all you could hear was your own heartbeat.
You swallowed, forcing your gaze back to the problem on the page. “Maybe, um
 maybe we should take a break?” you suggested, needing a second to breathe.
He tilted his head, an amused, knowing, intense glint in his eye. “A break sounds nice.” 
Your breath caught as he looked at you like that, his hand still warm where it lingered just a little too close. And in that brief moment, you wondered just what kind of favor you’d end up asking of him—or what he might ask of you in return.
And it seemed like he knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he said oh so breathlessly, in the way that made you want to throw yourself at him yet simultaneously bludgeon his head in, “wanna fuck?”
You reeled back, incredulous, but he quickly grabbed your head with both his hands, gently drawing you in. “What?”  
“I mean,” and he giggled, “what better use of a favor for than me to rid you of your virginity?”
You gasp, struggling in his hold to no avail. “Why would you assume I’m a virgin? I have plenty of experience, thank you very much—”
All the man does is snigger, despite your glare at him and looks at you, peering at you through his eyelashes with an oh-so-adoring smile. “It was clear how much you soaked through your panties that last time you’re a virgin, baby.” And you can’t help but whimper, reduced to a melting mess because of his sweet words. 
He laughs meanly. “If you’re not a virgin, you better not be soaked right now, baby. I’m kind of excited to see what panties you’re wearing this time” He moves his hand between your thighs, and you pliantly spread your legs for him, clenching as his hands rove over your panties in between your skirt. And he’s right, because it’s almost like you’ve wet your panties with the way your slick was flooding out of you because of your proximity with Satoru. “Look at that,” he coos and he pulls his hand away, much to your dismay, to examine his fingers. They glisten vulgarly in the fairy lights in your dorm, and Satoru turns his head to look at you. “So you gonna let me fuck you?”
And that, dear reader, is how you find yourself face down in your plushies on your dorm room bed, clutching them for dear life as Satoru spews dirty talk as if he was born doing it. “Satoru, faster!” you sob, having gone past the initial discomfort of having something in your pussy. 
“Satoru, faster,” he mocks you, grabbing your hips and drilling into your heat, groaning at how you’re just so tight. The tears flowing down your face make you even more beautiful as you succumb to your pleasure, one that no one other than Satoru has ever made you feel. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to fuck you?” You don’t answer past your moaning, and that annoys the fuck out of Gojo. He slaps your ass consecutively and can’t help but be more aroused looking at the red handprints he leaves. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” you moaned, anything to stop his assault on your ass, “I wanted this is sooo bad.” At that—rather than being satiated—Satoru sped up, hitting your spot with the accuracy of a sharpshooter.
“Yea, baby?” He laughs, meanly, leaning down to grab you by the chin, forcing you to look at him. His fingers squished your cheeks, thereby pursuing your lips as he tried not to cum from the sight of your eyes rolling back with each stroke into you. From the way you were clenching and pulsing more regularly around him, he could tell you were close. “Gonna cum?”
You whined, nodding while sobbing into his hands, trying to focus on the feeling of orgasming. It was so close, you could feel it coiling in your belly—
Just for him to rip out of your cavern, leaving you in shambles due to the emptiness you were feeling. “What—”
He tutted, his hand now slowly stroking his cock while he was sitting on his knees, looking down at you. “I’m only letting you come if you agree to be my girlfriend.”
“Gojo, what—”
“It’s Satoru,” his eyes flared, looking at you with an intensity you hadn’t noticed before. “And say it. Say you’ll be mine.”
For a moment, you searched his eyes for any signs. Signs of insincerity, of humor. But all you could find was desperation and yearning. Ever since you kept having your chance encounters with Gojo, you couldn’t help but deny the fluttering in your heart; the way his eyes unconsciously looked for you, a mere stranger he had taken interest in, in every crowd made you feel seen in a world where you were otherwise invisible.
And you couldn’t help but want to continue being in that world, in his world.
“Fine,” you whispered. “I’ll be your girlfr—”
Before you could finish, he smashed his lips into yours, joining them in a messy, wet embrace. His tongue explored your mouth in a way that made you leak even more while he aggressively laid back down on the mattress, effortlessly lifting you onto his crotch and onto his dick. As he thrusted into you, desperately, he couldn’t help but continue blabbing sweet nothings.
“I’ll treat you so well—haah—take you out on dates,” he heaved, eyes watering as he thrusted slowly into you in long, deep strokes. His eyes never left you as he made love to you, his face going up to nuzzle in between your breasts, peering at you through lidded eyes lovingly. “Fuck you well every night, show you off to the world.”
You could only sob Satoru as you looked at his face through your tears, him doing all the talking for you. “Every day,” he groaned, his cock pulsing and twitching in your walls, “I’ll love you like you’re my wife and fuck you like you’re my slut. So—” and he took a sharp intake of breath, one that you could interpret as him getting close with the way his hips were continually getting more and more sloppy, “so proud of you, baby. Gonna take care of you.” Then, he meets his eyes with yours as he starts to speed up, hand moving to gently rub at your clit in circles, with such prowess that you know you’re not going to last long. “Pull you—haah—pull you aside and see what panties you wore for me that day. Coming inside—coming inside and making you walk around with my cum leakin’ out of your panties.”
And then he whimpers as he loses control. “Gonna—” he utters in between short breaths, “gonna come baby. Come with me.”
“I will, Satoru,” you whine. “Please, I wanna—I wanna kiss!” That’s when Satoru can’t hold himself back anymore, his cum shooting in ropes inside of you at the innocent gesture you wanted him to do while he was doing such filthy things to you. You come alongside with him, everything so overwhelming as you ride out your orgasm on top of him. 
As you’re both settling down from your orgasm, he pulls you off—the both of you wincing at the sudden emptiness—as he lays you down next to him. Without a word, he nuzzles in between your breasts, giving a content sigh as he literally melts like a cat, relaxed in your embrace. You can’t help but giggle at his antics, and he takes his face out of your cleavage to give you a boyish grin. “What’re you laughing at?” “Nothing,” you shake your head. “Just the fact I’m chained to you now.”
“Hey!” he pouts, moving his arms so he’s embracing you tightly, effectively trapping you in. “Say that again and I’m going to sleep on top of you and never leave.”
“Can’t believe I’m chained to y—”
Satoru plops on top of you, making a show of tickling your ribs and stomach as you gasp and laugh in surprise. “Satoru!” He doesn’t relent, until you feel a familiar liquid ooze and leak out of your pussy.
This time, your shriek of Satoru’s name doesn’t go unnoticed. At the murderous look on your face–as well as the sheer messiness in between your thighs—he gets up. Smiles sweetly. “Should just leave you like this, leaking my cum. It’s only fair for how you ignored me!”
At that, he gets a pillow to his face, reminiscent of a kicked puppy as he trudges to your bathroom to clean you up. 
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comment and reblog your thots! <3
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jaylver · 1 year ago
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SLUT! — P.JS
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synopsis: experiencing love in your last year of high school was totally unexpected, especially when it’s the fact that you had fallen for the boy everyone wants. what you weren’t prepared for was the troubles that came with it. however, you were willing to pay the price just for the sake of love. 
pairings: non-idol!jay x afab!reader
genre: acquaintances to lovers, high school au, romance, angst, coming of age (?)
warning(s): profanities, (slight) slut shaming, underage drinking and partying
wc: 6.7k
a/n: last fic of 2023! thank you for all the support đŸ«¶ a little piece dedicated to everyone and also those who loves this song equally as much as me! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx
masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.
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Finding love was the last thing you had on your list right now.
It was the final year of high school. Everyone was freaking out over the fact that they were growing older and their time in high school was over. The Californian air couldn't be any more duller after that. Senior prom and graduation preparations were already starting even though it was just the start of the year. What was stopping them anyway? 
Being a teenager was art, but what they didn't tell you about growing up was the process of falling in love. 
It was torture. Witnessing people in love all around you while you struggled with advancing past the talking stage. No, it wasn't fair. However, having cupid strike its bow at you unexpectedly one day was the worst of crimes.
You know the embarrassing feeling when you see your classmates outside of school? Right. That was how you felt the moment Park Jong Seong walked into your mother's clinic, your eyes widening behind the counter. Must you be responsible for the counter at this very hour?
“Hey—Y/N?”
Jay was a classmate. You didn't really know him and neither did he know much about you. It was just neutral, where you coexist in the same space until the bell rings and the day ends. You get the gist. 
That doesn't exclude the point where Jay was widely known, though. He wasn't like his popular jock friends or an athlete whatsoever. Instead, he was a studious guy who kept his reputation clean. Basically, he was your typical golden boy. You knew he wasn't completely innocent to an extent, but at least he was good at hiding it. 
There is no denying that everyone wants him. He was a nice guy paired with strong, distinct features. It was no secret he was also known for his looks and caring manners.
“Jay? What are you doing here?” 
He was wrapped in a thick hoodie, hands hidden in his pants pocket. “Caught a cold. I thought I should drop by to see a doctor and get some medicine,”
“Oh no,” you tried your best at giving a concerned expression, though you were busy skimming through files on the laptop. “Do you have a record here?”
“I do. Not my first time,”
You tried for his full legal name instead of ‘Jay Park’ and thankfully, his record showed up. “Found it,” you glanced up just to find him staring back at you. This was probably the first time you were this close to him, enough to be able to distinguish the moles on his face.
“I'll call you in a bit,”
You did what you always do every time, inform your mother and call the patients in. But Jay wasn't just another patient to you. When you called his name, you watched as he got closer, casting you a sweet smile right before he disappeared behind the door, leaving you to your seat at the counter, overthinking the littlest details that you knew you'd have to spill to your best friend after.
Jay waited patiently by the counter once it was time to pay. His gaze followed your every move as you got his prescribed medicine and stuffed them carefully into a bag. 
“Here you go,” you passed the bag over, then accepted the cash he had been holding for a while. “Thanks,” you muttered, taking the chance at avoiding eye contact when you slipped the cash into the register.
“Thank you too,” Jay said, immediately gaining your attention. He was still managing a smile even though you could tell he was shivering slightly. 
“No problem. Rest well,” you took a piece of candy from your own bowl of personal sweets stash. “Here,” 
“Candy?”
You nodded, humming softly. 
“Thanks,” his voice was quieter, sounding as if he was in disbelief. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes twinkled, a hint of fascination lingered. “I'll see you around, Y/N.”
“See you.”
That night, you laid awake replaying the encounter you had with Jay. It was the first time you've ever talked to him, and it was barely anything, but you somehow understood why people liked him by then. Not like you didn't like him initially, you meant, romantically.
It was definitely an odd place to meet and talk to him. Out of all the possible places, it just had to be your mother’s clinic that none of your peers came to once, that was until him. But somehow, it was the right timing despite the location. It was the wrong place at the right time.
Who knew his cold and your candy would soon start something neither of you expected.
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“Do you wish you made out with him or something?”
Telling Yunjin about it was probably the best and worst idea. Sure, she could be a great moral support, except she lacked filters when needed.
“What the fuck—no!” You glanced around, hoping none of the passing students heard your stupid discussions. “He's hot but not like that, at all,”
“So you admit he's hot!”
You rolled your eyes, chucking the bag of Doritos back to her. “I never said he wasn't,”
“You intended it, said you didn't get the ‘hype’ around him,” 
“Until now!” You threw your hands up in surrender, only getting a cackle from Yunjin as a response. “Whatever. It's a one time thing. He's out of my league. It's a whole ‘You Belong with Me’ music video type of situation excluding me being friends with him,”
“You're yapping at this point,”
“Thanks, I know,”
“It's not that serious, Y/N. You fighting your life trying to defend yourself only makes it seem like you're in denial,” why must she always be on point?
“Whatever, whatever,” you waved her off, stubbornly ignoring what she said. “I'm at the back of the line anyway, I should be worrying about graduation and college,”
“Oh right!” Yunjin physically jumped, her backpack shook. “I need your opinion on something.”
That whole Jay discourse had swarmed your head that was currently leaning against the window. You purposely picked a seat by the window at the back of the class, hoping for some space to think since it was a class you didn't have with Yunjin. 
“A dollar for your thoughts?”
To your right stood Jay, shouldering his backpack and offering a warm smile. You knew you shared this class with him, but to have him walk up to you at that very moment was something beyond unexpected.
“Hey,” you greeted rather stiffly, not knowing what to do now that you were put under the spot. “W–what are you doing standing there?” Facepalm.
“Oh—do you mind if I sit beside you?” He pointed at the empty seat next to you, and you shook your head. You usually sat with random classmates anyway, having no close friends in this class was a struggle. 
Jay's face broke into a smile of relief, plotting his bag down before taking a seat. “Thanks, I don't really have anyone I know here,”
“You don't?” That's weird. You always noticed how people naturally swarmed around Jay's table, either greeting him or chatting with him.
“Not really. None of them are really my friends,”
But you were?
“You're a friend to me, though,” he added, as if reading your mind at that instant.
You were taken aback, but you hid it well, masking it with nonchalance. “Really?”
He nodded, a sincere smile that told you he meant it. You let yourself loose this time, reciprocating his smile. “I'm honoured,”
“I'm even more honoured.”
Throughout the class, you didn't miss the occasional glances from him and neither did you stop yourself from looking at him. He was much more breathtaking up close. Who were you to deny that?
By the end of the class, the bell rang and everyone started to pack up, some already rushing out in a hurry. You, on the other hand, was too caught up in your headspace to notice Jay was already done tidying up beside you and was waiting for his queue.
“Uh—Y/N?” he tapped you on your shoulder, stealing your attention at once. You stared at him expectantly, blinking with curiosity behind your eyes.
“Yeah?” You dragged the word out slightly, packing your last book into your bag.
“Would you like to go to a party this weekend?”
A party? That'd be your first.
“Where's that? Can I bring my friend too?”
“Yes and it's at Jake's house,” he winced, forgetting you're not one of those frequent party goers. “I'll text you the details—wait, I don't even have your number,” he laughed awkwardly, which only made you smile.
“Real smooth, Jay,” you signalled for his phone, and he grabbed it out of his jeans pocket without saying a word, eyes following your move as you typed in your number. 
When you handed his phone back, he didn’t hesitate to press the call button. Obviously, you heard your ringtone coming from your backpack. You glanced at Jay, giving him a face that was saying ‘really?’, quite incredulous that he’d doubted you. 
“Just wanted to be sure,” he smiled, scratching the back of his neck out of awkwardness. “I’ll make sure to text you,” he held his phone up, waving it a little and slowly getting up from his seat, to which you followed suit. At that moment, the classroom was already almost empty, so it was just a few lingering students with you and Jay, but it all felt like you were in a completely different universe altogether.
“Cool,” 
“Cool,” Jay echoed after you, and you resisted yourself from laughing. Apparently he noticed your tight smile and smiled along with you. Wordlessly, you two communicated through each of your smiles even as you walked side by side out the door. 
“Which way are you going?” he was quick to ask, eyes shining with expectations.
“I’m going that way,” you pointed to the right, down the busy corridor.
“Oh,” Jay visibly faltered, the expectations he held behind his gaze were crushed. “I’m heading that way,” he pointed to the left, the opposite direction of where you’re going. 
“I guess that’s it for today,” you patted his shoulder, unbeknownst to how Jay had froze under your touch for a second. “Until our next class together, then,”
“See you,” he waved, gradually backing away.
You couldn’t help but grin. “Bye!” 
You watched as he walked away, his back now fully facing you. It took you another beat before your feet were willing you away to where you were meant to go. But what you failed to realise as you concentrated on your steps was Jay turning his head back to catch a glimpse of you, his head only filled with the thoughts of you.
He’s so screwed.
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Staying at the library was the last resort for you once you got to know Yunjin had an impromptu extra hour class after school. She promised she'd take you to the pool, considering the weather was only getting hotter day by day. But you suppose it'd have to wait for now.
What was worse, the heatwave or high school? Trick question.
The library was mostly empty by this hour, only a couple of students remained to either study or chill around just like you. It was one of those times where you wondered why you didn't explore more. As you wandered along the towering shelves filled with old books, you caught sight of an interesting looking one.
Instinctively, you pulled the book out of the shelf without thinking twice. But what caught your eyes wasn't the cover of the book or the book itself in general. Instead, it was the pair of eyes staring back at you through the small gap from where the book originally sat.
The most surprising bit of all was you knew and recognised who those eyes belonged to. Jay.
Your eyes widened, so did he once he saw your reaction. For some inexplicable reason, you stood up straight, unknowingly fixing your hair out of a nervous habit. 
You were nervous? It's just Jay. No, wait, that's probably why. It's Jay. How were you not going to feel nervous around him?
Quick, think! Were you going to find him in the next aisle or run away. Maybe not the latter. You turned on your heel and walked forward, deciding to find Jay and greet him out of courtesy. 
You were just about to turn the corner when you stumbled into the man you were looking for, perfect. Actually, not perfect. The moment you crashed into him, you stumbled into his chest and his hands flew up to catch you, the book originally in his possession dropped to the ground with a firm thud.
There you were, literally in his arms and looking frenzied. His wide eyes matched yours. It took a few beats and a moment for your mind to formulate what's happening for you to finally push yourself from him, absolutely flustered from embarrassment.
“Hey,” you dusted your front in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks.
“Hi,” he replied rather breathlessly, mirroring your rosy cheeks.
The book that fell to the ground suddenly became unimportant to Jay, but to you, it was a mark that was burning into the precious floorings. You moved fast and picked up the book, yet you weren't quick to hand it back, instead you took a look at it.
“Pride and Prejudice?” You noted from the old cover, then glanced at him, a glint of interest sparked. “Didn't know you're like that,” you extended the book out to him. 
He took the book back into his possession, smiling rather sweetly. “Literature is the death of me,”
“Isn't it a selective subject?”
“It is. I was an idiot for thinking I could hold on,” he rolled his eyes, making you giggle softly.
“I'm sure you will. You're—like—Einstein smart,”
“Are you trying to stroke my ego right now?” He crossed his arms, leaning onto the bookshelf ever so casually.
“No, I'm just pointing it out. You literally rank in the top 5 every year! It's annoying,”
“Is it so?”
“Very much,”
“Should I be flattered? I'm flattered,” he bowed dramatically, unable to hide his smug smile. It was your turn to roll your eyes, shaking your head at him. He only let out a laugh at your reaction. “What are you doing here at this time anyway?”
“Oh—Yunjin, my friend, had a random impromptu class so she had to stay back. I was waiting for her since she’s bringing me to go swim, but now I don’t know if that’s happening,”
“You could always stop by my place for a swim,”
You blinked, head tilting to one side. “What?”
Jay seemed to have become embarrassed judging from the reddening tips of his ears that you were (thankfully) oblivious to. “I have a pool, and my parents are out of town for maybe a few months or so for work, so it’s practically unused,”
“What about your friends? Don’t they go over to swim?”
“They do, but they’re looking to take more advantage of it by wanting to throw a party soon since my parents are away,” he grumbled in the last part.
“Well, are you?”
“I guess? I don’t mind it,” he hummed, bright eyes flickering to you. “Will you come if I do?”
“If I’m invited,”
“Obviously you are,” Jay said matter-of-factly, eyebrows raised. “So what do you say?”
“Sure,”
“Great. I’ll hold you to it,” he snapped his fingers, and was basically beaming now. It only made you form more visible heart eyes. “But for now, I’ll see you at Jake’s party,”
 “Deal.”
That day, you left the library with a lovesick smile instead of a book. You didn’t even get annoyed after knowing it was too late for a trip to the pool, and obviously Yunjin caught onto that. On the walk home, you thought about him and the party. Anxiety and anticipation were both building up, until he came up in mind again and everything disappeared.
You got lovestruck and it went straight to your head. It was almost the first time you’ve actually felt the way you’re feeling now, nobody had once made you fully experience every emotion of having a crush in your years in high school. No one was even capable of it, that was until Jay appeared into your life. 
Going to bed that same night, you thought of him again. At that point, you wondered if he would materialise in your bedroom from the amount of times you had him in your head. Maybe he’d be accidentally manifested into life. 
Tossing and turning, you kicked your feet at the imaginations you had of him. Upon realising your own behaviour, you covered your face with a pillow and screamed into it. Were you crazy? Oh my God, you were! 
Then it hit you.
You’re admitting this now. You like Park Jong Seong. 
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“I can’t believe we’re here,”
Yunjin was currently having the best of her life even though nothing has happened yet and you both had just arrived at Jake’s house. 
The walk in was already shocking. On the lawn of Jake’s house were knocked out drunks, then by the door were people making out and doing weird things you didn’t want to think of again. You were surprised that everything happening before you was something you’ve seen in movies and you were actually experiencing that now. 
“Is this even 
 legal?” you glanced around, cringing at the tacky set ups and badly picked music in the background.
“No. But you’ve drunk before, so who are you to say?”
“Touche,” 
Wandering further into the house, you realised there were many people here, but you weren't surprised at all. Jake was a well known footballer anyway, how could he not be popular in the first place?
"Y/N!"
At the sound of your name being called, you looked over your shoulder to see Jay approaching you. His eyes carried the same kind of brightness he has around you, the corner of his lips were curved up into a wide smile. Let's not forget how he has his hair styled up at that moment. Was he expecting you to not feel anything?
"Jay! Hey," you waved meekly at him until he was standing before you. You noticed his gaze on your friend who was standing beside you, a look of unfamiliarity clearly written in his expressions. "This is Yunjin, by the way,"
Yunjin and Jay both greeted each other amicably, though a little awkward but it was natural for it to be like that. Jay turned to look at you, eyebrows raised. "This would be a great chance to introduce my friends but—"
"Jay!"
"I take that back," 
You and your friend exchanged a brief look, stifling your laughter at Jay's demeanour. He was flailing his hand to get his friend to come closer, and by then, you could recognise who it was. 
"Bro, why were you running around all night? Were you expecting someone—oh, hey," Jake, the host of the party and the popular footballer, had finally taken account of you and your friend's presence. "I'm Jake, nice to meet you,"
"Likewise, I'm Y/N,"
"Yunjin," 
"Y/N and Yunjin, you guys are new faces around here," 
"It's not really our scene," you nudged Yunjin a little, and she nodded in agreement. It's true, you and her equally preferred a night in with a romcom playing than this. But you'd make it an exception this time, and maybe the next time for Jay's party. 
"You're always welcomed. Any friend's of Jay or friend's of Jay's friend are welcomed to our party," Jake patted Jay's back, while the latter only rolled his eyes at his friend.
"Jake! Your toilet's clogged—" another one you recognised to be a part of the friend group appeared out of the blue. It was Sunghoon. Star hockey player and basically every girl's crush, he was known for his wits, charming good looks, and crazy hockey skills, duh. 
If you told yourself from months back that you'd somehow become friends with Jay and meet his friends, you'd think you're crazy. 
"Hey, sorry," Sunghoon winced, but gave Jake a pointed look after. Jake scoffed in annoyance, then left with a huff and a wave of goodbye to you and Yunjin. "Sorry 'bout that, I'm Sunghoon,"
"I'm Yunjin," when did she become this bold? Whatever it was, you were willing to support her.
"I'm Y/N," 
"You're Y/N?" Sunghoon gasped quietly, glancing between you and Jay, interest forming in his head.
Jay slapped the back of Sunghoon's head, and in the midst of the latter's grumbles, he could only smile awkwardly at you. "Shut up," he hissed to Sunghoon.
"First, ouch. Second, whatever," Sunghoon bumped Jay roughly with his shoulder. "Wanna get some drinks?"
"I'm fine, I'll pass. Maybe Yunjin can go along with you?" You eyed Yunjin, and you saw her giving you those 'i owe you my life' type of eyes. 
"Sure," Sunghoon smiled at Yunjin, but gave Jay a firm nudge, his gaze alone conveying the message. Apparently bro telepathy was a thing, because in a few seconds, he decided Jay was staying with you and wandered off along with your best friend. 
"It's just us two now," you said, as if it wasn't already obvious. 
"Yeah," Jay was equally stiff as you were. "Sounds crazy, but do you want to go up to the room? It's a little loud here,"
"I don't think it's 'a little' but totally, sure. Lead the way," you figured Jay was familiar with his way since it was quite literally his best friend's house.
He wordlessly took your hand and intertwined it with his. It was so casual and sudden that it was unexpected, knocking the breath out of you. He made sure you were walking in front of him the whole time, hand never leaving yours and only gripping tighter as he held you close to avoid the crowd. 
In a world of boys, he was a gentleman. 
He eventually brought you to a quiet room down the hall upstairs, into a bedroom that was decorated much simpler. You guessed it was the guest room, it would've made most sense. 
"Do you normally bring girls here?" 
Jay's face contorted into a mix of shock and disbelief, arms thrown into the air. "What—no!"
"Really?"
"What makes you think that?"
You shrugged, taking a seat on the bed. "I don't know? Well, everyone wants you—"
That was your crime.
"—you're popular, smart, cute, kind and—am I talking too much?" You paused, feeling the bed dip beneath you as Jay joined your side. 
"I like it," he hummed, turning to look at you. "I like you,"
You blinked. One second. Two seconds. 
"What?" Your eyes were widening, whereas Jay was just staring back calmly with an unwavering smile.
"I like you, Y/N," the confession rolled off his tongue like a secret he has been keeping for too long. The eyes that were searching for yours were filled with longing and hope.
Was this really happening right now?
"I like you too, Jay," 
It felt like the world had stopped and it was just you and him there. You were taking in his confession and so was he. It might've been silent but it was comfortable. 
"Can I—" he leaned in, but stopping just an inch away from your lips. You could feel his breath on yours, noses making contact. That was how close he was. 
"Yeah," 
Just before Jay could press his lips against yours, the door burst open and you jumped, literally. You heard a thud too, and realised Jay was on the floor. 
You turned to look at the door, finding the culprit standing there awkwardly. It was Jake, and he, too, was self aware that he had crashed an important private moment.
"Uh—I just wanted to find Jay
"
"Jake, if you don't close that door right now, I swear—"
Jay didn't even need to finish his sentence when Jake slammed the door shut, yelling out 'sorry's and saying he'd be waiting for Jay down the hall. Talk about awkward encounters. 
You locked eyes with Jay, who looked thoroughly embarrassed but also humoured. It didn't take long before you burst out laughing and he joined along. Soon, he returned to his original spot next to you too.
"That was 
 bad,"
"It was," you were fidgeting with your hands, suddenly nervous. "I guess the timing wasn't right,"
"It really wasn't,"
Silence fell between the two of you, and there was something in your mind that was bugging you. "Does this mean we're 
?" You didn't need to finish what you were saying for Jay to get the meaning. 
"I mean, do you want to try it out first? We don't need to rush into anything, don't even need to be official. I just wanted you to know how I feel," 
"I can do slow," you nodded, catching a brief glimpse of Jay. 
"I'll always be waiting for you," Jay took your hand in his, and that was when you finally had the courage to meet his eyes again. "Whenever you're ready."
People say dating the popular guy was a bad idea, but for once, you were willing to let loose and give your heart a go.
Who knew the start of your newfound romance would soon blossom into a whirlwind of tears, love, and scandalous teen romance.
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"So you're dating him now?"
Having Yunjin scream into your ear in the morning during the first period was not surprising. Maybe telling her everything over the phone and leaving her hanging wasn't the best idea. It wasn't your fault she was hungover anyway.
"Shush! Do you want everyone to know?"
"I'm sure everyone knows by now,"
You gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"
"Jake kinda saw you guys, then he blabbered it to Sunghoon, and I guess others heard it because he was not quiet about it,"
Jake. You heaved a sigh, shaking your head a bit. "We're not boyfriend girlfriend official, but just 
 trying things out, you know?"
"I know," Yunjin let out a satisfied hum. "I think he'd be great for you,"
"Really?"
"He's a nice guy, Y/N. Judging from his reputation, he seems like a good man," Yunjin practically gave you her seal of approval, and it left you feeling happy for the rest of the period.
That was until lunch break where everything fell apart way too fast.
Walking out to the cafeteria, you didn't think much about anything else as you listened to Yunjin rant about her latest online purchase. But the moment you heard Jay's name along with yours in passing, your ears perked up. You thought nothing of it, leading up to Kim Minjeong confronting you head on and you knew that's when you should start worrying.
"Are you 
 the one with Jay?" 
You glanced at Yunjin for a split second, anxiety bubbling in your stomach. "I guess?"
"You're a slut. Don't you know I have a thing for him? There's something call girl code—"
"Woah woah, wait, what? Look, we don't even know you like that," Yunjin quickly butt in upon seeing you fall silent. 
"Everyone knows me! Everyone knows Jay and I had a thing! What is it you want? His popularity? Money—"
"Shut up," 
Speaking of the devil.
"You okay?" Jay appeared by your side, gaze softening once it landed on you. "I was searching for you, didn't know this is happening,"
"I—"
"Jay! What are you doing? Why are you with her—"
"Can you just quit it? We've been through this many times, Minjeong. I don't like you and I never have, why can't you just accept it?" He sounded exasperated, almost as if he had been putting up with this for ages. "Put my girl's name out of your mouth and leave her out of this. She's the one I want, not you,"
The only way you could describe Minjeong's face there was rageful. Her expressions were contorted and her lips were etched into a frown. She knew she couldn't defend herself further, so she eventually left with a huff.
It was quite unsalvageable at that point and you felt yourself breaking down from the inside out. Even when Jay called your name, you only shrugged him off and brushed past him. The worst part of all: he didn't run after you either.
Great. Now you were going to spend the rest of the day mulling in bed.
That didn't last long either. Once you got into bed, ready to sleep away from the day's incident and think back to Yunjin's pep talk, you heard your phone buzz. Not once, but multiple times. Who was sending messages at that time? Of course, it had to be him.
jjongster: hey, can we please talk?
jjongster: like right now
you: right now?
jjongster: yeah, send me wherever you're most convenient to meet
This was stupid. Sneaking out of your room when it's dark out and meeting Jay down the street from your house. All when your emotions were not stable and set yet. You've sent him the address and now he's waiting there, standing by his car like a dream. 
"Hey," he called out softly as you walked closer to him. 
"Hi," you hated this, the sudden stiffness and awkwardness that got between you two, you shouldn't be suffering because of it.
"Sorry for asking you to come out this late," he was quick to apologise, taking a step closer to you. He was always so nice, so kind and loving. "I–it's just eating me up, and I really wanted to tell you—speak to you—in person. I wanted to see you,"
"It's okay, I get it. I'm sorry too, for leaving so abrupt and ignoring you. That was wrong of me to do," you were feeling guilty about what you did earlier, letting your emotions get the best of you and neglecting Jay.
"I understand, don't worry. Are you feeling okay? I didn't expect that to happen, I'm sorry,"
"Don't apologise, it's not on you," you brushed away the strand of hair that constantly fell onto your face, occasionally avoiding his stare. "And I don't know. I don't know how or what to feel,"
He frowned. "Tell me, tell me what's on your mind,"
"Jay, what if this was all a bad choice? You're you, and I'm 
 me. You're the golden boy, everyone wants you! Now they're talking behind our backs and all I do is hear rumours that aren't true, names being called 
"
"It's not a bad choice, Y/N! I want you 
 so much. No one else compares. Can't you see that?" Jay moved closer to you, his hands now on both your shoulders. "Don't push me away now,"
Jay was taking his chance, and you thought it was a big mistake, but he doesn’t. It might blow up in his pretty face, and you didn’t tell him straight on to do it anyway, yet you knew he was going to and he wasn’t going to care what others think.
"I could never," you shook your head, welcoming his embrace as he pulled you in, and before you knew it, the tears you held in all day started streaming down your cheeks.
He held you there on the pavement as you broke down in his arms, his hold on you never once loosened. There that night, under the starry sky and illuminating street lights was a connection and trust formed unknowingly between you and him, love that blossomed like a flower in spring. 
"Gosh, I probably look stupid right now crying," you chuckled, pushing yourself slightly off of him to glance at his face. 
"You look pretty, gorgeous to me," his thumb travelled to your cheeks, wiping away the tears that remained. 
"I shouldn't have said that 
 us being a bad choice," you said quietly, cursing internally that you've even doubted it in the first place. "I trust you, Jay, I do,"
"Thank you," his hand travelled down to hold onto yours, a smile ever so soft. "We'll go at your pace. Whenever you're ready,"
"Whenever I'm ready." you repeated, unable to stop yourself from smiling either.
Jay knew he was already in deep, experiencing feelings he's never felt before in his eighteen years of life, but seeing you then, made him realise maybe young love was something to believe in. For once, he had a love to fight for. 
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Jay was true to his words. He, in fact, did throw a party at his place. But what he didn't tell you was the cleaning up, and boy, was it a headache.
Once everyone had filed out a little after midnight, it was only you and Jay left. It was peaceful. In an empty house that had music blasting in the background, you and Jay each struggled to pick up all the rubbish strewn. You liked this. You like him.
It might've taken a while, but eventually you had the place cleaned, or at least, rubbish-less. There was probably more deep cleaning needed (that was for the next day to worry about). However, for now, it was finally just the two of you, and a whole lot of space with nothing to do.
"Wanna go for a dip?"
"Now?" You glanced at the clock, then back at Jay, who was trying to convince you with his starry eyes and nodding his head like an overly enthusiastic puppy. "Fine."
You didn't even know why you agreed to it. It was a lucky decision you brought an extra pair of everything since you were staying over. 
Jay was already in the pool, floating around when you walked out. The light coming from the pool was the only thing providing light. Blue reflection and wet messy hair made Jay increasingly dreamy, till the point where you stood there for a bit too long and he had to call for you.
"Coming!" You huffed, but the moment you reached the edge of the pool, you found yourself stuck and feeling nervous. 
The sight of Jay's bare front and your lack of clothing was nerve wracking to even think about. Your mind was in a fuzz even as you accepted his hand and let him pull you in, the cool water invading your senses. 
His arms came to wrap around your waist, the only thing you could hold for support was his bicep, so that was what you reached for. Jay didn't mind, he only held you tighter, a conspiring glare glazed over his eyes.
"Hey," he tilted his head, gaze travelling all over your features. You were close, very close. It was almost as if you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.
"Hi," you whispered back. Your hand was on its own journey, absentmindedly moving to his shoulder.
You should be dying out of anxiety by now, or even freak the fuck out, yet, you successfully kept your composure, in front of a hot man. Hooray!
"How's the water? I swear it's clean. I gated it off before the party,"
You laughed, remembering how Jake was so insistent on keeping the pool part of the party. He claimed that a pool party was way cooler than just a regular party. Jay was not convinced.
"It's nice. Chilly," 
Jay nodded for a bit, pursing his lips, thinking for a beat. "I'm glad you were here today,"
"Why?"
"I just like having you here, that's all,"
"You're so cheesy, it's annoying," you joked lightheartedly, knowing you secretly enjoyed this side of him.
"Whatever, you tolerate it anyway,"
He was right, you did. Over the few months, you've grown to memorise and remember every part of Jay. His habits, his likings, et cetera. It was crazy how your relationship grew with time, but the much crazier part was the fact that you two had not gone official yet.
"Against my will,"
"That's a lie,"
"Whatever you say," you said in a sing-song tone, which only made Jay roll his eyes, reaching up to pinch your cheek. 
His gaze never left yours, not even once. It was trained on you, always had been and always will be. The eventual silence got to you, and it was just the distant noise of the water that filled the air.
It was one of those moments where you think 'was this real'. Spoiler: it was. He was testing the waters, you could tell, and you let him. 
Jay inched a little closer, eyes flickering between you and your lips. It was obvious that he was nervous from the shaky breath and wavering confidence, but it only made you more relieved. 
You let out a breath, meeting his lips halfway. At first, he was shocked, you were too, but for different reasons. Kissing him was a breath of fresh air. His lips moved against yours naturally as if it was his first instinct, like he has been waiting for this for ages, which was not entirely wrong. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss and you swore you felt yourself imploding.
The moment you two finally pulled away to catch your breath, you could only stare at him and hold onto him tighter as if you were afraid he might not be real. Jay chased after your lips, pressing haste pecks and smiling into every one of them. It was infectious, everything about him was and it had you intoxicated. 
You realised at that second that you’d be willing to go against the world for him if you had to. Even if someone called you a ‘slut’ again, maybe it’d be worth it for once, and you knew he’d always be right there to defend you.
“I'm ready,”
“Hm?” he was still in a haze, eyes staring back at you with more than love in them.
“I’m ready to be yours, Jay, I’m serious,”
“You are?”
He has never been so relieved and happy leading up till that moment, just having you in his arms was about to make him burst. All he needed was to see you nod and watch your lips mouthing ‘yes’ as a confirmation before lifting you up, arms tight around you. 
Under the moonlit swimming pool, you’ve never been happier.
The night might’ve already ended for others, but to you and Jay, it was still ongoing, and you wished for it to not end. So, there you were, in his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he lay beside you. There was barely any space between you and him, his hand brushed against yours from time to time, neither of you dared to move from your original position. 
Half asleep, you were taking your time to do something. You took the chance to move your hand closer and gently made contact with his. It didn’t even take a beat for him to lace his fingers with yours, his grip ever so firm, calloused skin against yours. You could tell Jay was equally drifting in and out of sleep as you were, mind in a haze but awake enough to comprehend that you were next to him and not a figment of his imagination.
“I’m in love with you,” 
It was faint, almost a whisper, but a mumble that was audible came from Jay. You turned your head to look at him, even under the dim lights, you were able to see that smile from him. The one that always made him look like a lovesick fool, that his friend would claim he’d have whenever he talked about you; it was a smile only reserved for you, and you were the cause of it too.
“Goodnight,” he mumbled out, eyes remained shut, but the smile stayed. 
“Goodnight.” 
There in the bed slept two young lovers, a fresh love that was unbreakable that connected the two of you together, all of it was fated. From the clinic to now, it might’ve started at the wrong place but it surely was at the right time, and you were glad to be next to him, hand in hand, anticipating what the future had in store for you two. 
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( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )
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wosofutbolfan · 6 months ago
Text
When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful)
Alexia Putellas x Reader
A story of a lifetime spent growing together. To what end?
Songfic
WC: 17k. Check TW inside.
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TW: Bullying based on disability. Death of a parent. Angst. Grief.
Hi Guys.
This has sat in my drafts for months and inside my head for even longer. There is no part 2 planned. This is angsty with fluffy moments. Be warned.
I think we can all agree the most heart wrenching media moment of all time is Toy Story 2 and the below song.
If you don't agree. Move along this is not for you.
Reader calls Alexia, Alex throughout this fic. That's based on this video. Cause I have never heard someone refer to that and I thought it was cute. Alexia refers to R as 'Conejito' as a literal translation of bunny - I have since realised there's a more vulgar translation of this which I'm ignoring. Ha.
Spoiler Alert - This story deals with the death of a parent. Which I went back and forth on writing. Something about it still feels ick to me because these are real people. I may delete. Everything within is based on my own experience of parental loss. And it comes from no place of malace or weirdness.
This also deals with a severe speech impediment - which again, I do not suffer from myself but have experience with and hope I have done the struggle justice for anyone who may suffer.
My spanish is google translate because I am an ignorant English speaker. Apologies.
When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart
It was raining on the day that you met her.
That was strange. For Barcelona. The rain.
You found yourself where you usually could be found, to anyone who would take notice. Which wasn’t anyone to your knowledge except for a few observant teachers. In the art room, in the back corner, working relentlessly at an easel that your favourite teacher would set up for you.
You had transferred into the school part way through term, and for the first few days as with most schools you were the new and shiny thing. At 12 a lot of the kids in school had known each other since birth and you were new fresh blood to entertain them.
That didn’t last too long though when they realised you weren’t actually that interesting.
Shy and quiet as you always had been, you kept yourself to yourself. Its not that you didn’t want to make friends. You did. You so desperately did. But you just didn’t know how.
You had a stutter. That never helped. Kids could be cruel. And with the move from your hometown to Mollet for your mum's job it had only gotten worse. 
Words felt like lead in your mouth, your jaw felt tight and you struggled to get your words out. They stuck in your throat and refused to move from there. 
The teachers were kind. Your peers were not. Your speech therapist was helping. You spent more time than any 12 year old should thinking about sentence structure and breathing techniques.
You knew your parents worried about you. Waiting for you to get home from school every day with worried glances and eager smiles; “Did you make any friends today niña?” your dad would ask, pretending to be casual, flicking through some book or another. “Not today Papi.” You would reply, never wanting to lie to your family, before happily jumping the couch next to him and starting to scribble in your notebook.
“Maybe tomorrow niña. There is always tomorrow”.
Well. Turns out dads are clever.
Because there was always tomorrow. And on an unusually rainy day for Mollet tomorrow came.
“Putellas!! Get back here! Pute-...”
The door to the art room quickly opened and slammed closed. The noise jolts you out of your peaceful reverie. A tall brunette girl smashed her back against the door and a hand quickly flicked out to turn the lights off to the room.
She clearly hadn’t noticed you huddled in the corner as she slid down the door onto her butt. Closing her eyes she let out a deep sigh and rested her forehead on her knees.
You didn't know what to do.
You knew who she was. Of course you did. She was Alexia Putellas.
The Alexia Putellas. Futbol superstar. Well
 the 12 year old playground version of that. The coolest girl in school. She oozes confidence. Was always surrounded by a gaggle of your peers. Never without a ball at her feet or in her hands. But she hadn’t noticed you. Arm still raised working on the canvas in front of you, vision now impeded by the dark she had forced onto the room by turning the light off. You froze. Mouth slightly agape and hand starting to sweat. You watched as she rocked her forehead side to side on her knees. Your arm became tired in its upright position and the noise of you plopping the brush back into the water jar seemed to jolt her out of her stupor. Her neck snapped up and you met her wide, hazel eyes that bore into you. “Oh! Lo siento, I didn’t
 I didn’t know anyone else was in here.” She was met with silence. Your stutter affected you terribly on a good day. Nevermind your safehaven suddenly being invaded by the coolest girl in school. Who you had idolised from afar since arriving in Mollet. Her head tilted curiously as she took you in. You felt her eyes drift to the canvas behind you. “Did you paint that?” She stands to her full height, still keeping her distance from you. “Why are you painting in the dark
?” She asks curiously. Head still tilted. Faced with a direct question you couldn’t put it off any longer. You couldn’t delay the inevitable. “Y..y
you, tu
tu
.switched off
.” Changing the words you intended to use halfway through was a coping mechanism that your therapist had tried to get you to work out of your system. She called it masking. You called it getting by. You raise your hand and point to the lightswitch that she had flicked when she entered the room. She looks at you harder now. You feel her eyes boring into you and wait for the inevitable laughter. The pity. Maybe even the cruelty that you are used to when people hear you speak. You cast your eyes down, waiting for the blow. But you just hear a flick of a switch, and the darkness behind your eyelids lifting. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have switched it off if I had known. I was just trying to get away. I kicked a football at Senorita Lopez by accident in the gym. They won’t let me play outside in the rain. Idiotas” You lift your eyes at her gentle, lilting tone as a smile teases your lips. She's moved closer to you now. “You didn’t answer. Did you paint this?” Her hand comes out to hover over the lines of your still-wet painting. Carefully. Again, you’ve been asked a direct question. “Si.” you reply, quietly. You don’t struggle so much with single words. “By yourself?” she asked, aghast, wonder taking over her features. You nod in reply. “This is so cool! Show me!” A grin overtakes your features as you nod more enthusiastically. Glasses slipping down your nose. Pulling out a fresh canvas for your new friend. “Lo siento, I haven’t told you my name. My Papa says it's rude not to introduce myself
” she stands tall and thrusts out her hand. Very formally. Very practised. “I am Alexia Putellas Segura.” You pause for a moment, looking at her outstretched hand. You wipe your clammy hands on your jeans. And shake her hand. “A
A
” you grow frustrated with yourself, the words getting stuck in your throat. You pull your hand away but Alexia keeps her grip firm and nods at you encouragingly. “Al
Alex
 Alex.” you give up. Eyes downcast. Maybe you can tell your papa you nearly made a friend today. “Alex! Cool! I’ve never had that nickname! Most people call me Ale. But it can be our thing. I know you, you are y/n I remember Senora Perez making you stand at the front of class. Show me how to paint! Please? ”  Alexia was not a good painter. She quickly got bored and distracted by the newspaper on the desk intended for a paper mache project which she screwed up together, fashioned into a football and then spent the rest of the wet lunchtime kicking around the art room aiming for various targets that she would shout out to you. 
You dutifully cheered at every successful hit of the target. That night as you climbed onto the couch next to your papa and he asked; “Did you make any friends today niña?”. You couldn’t wait to reply; “Si! Alex.” You missed the way his newspaper dropped ever so slightly, and he caught the eye of your mami who was in the kitchen. “Ah, Si? Alex should come for dinner! We would love to welcome him!” He replied, his delight even obvious to you. “No tonta
 Alex is a girl!” you let out. In that hilariously moody way only 12 year olds can. You became inseparable. Alexia was your best friend. Complete and total opposites. She would spend wet lunches in the art room with you. She would drag you to the playing fields after school and on break and you would be a goalie for her. Which was really just you standing complaining about where you found yourself and you dived away from balls as she cackled out a laugh. She came round for dinner with your family most nights. You spent every weekend at the Putellas household, travelling to her football games, strapped up next to Alba in the back of the Putellas family car, scribbling away in a notebook as you drew landscapes that you passed. On the way home you would sketch and sketch, only slightly hindered by the weight of your gangly best friend as she slept on your shoulder.  Your art would sit on both family fridges. Alex’s football boots would litter both entrance ways. Your mami would pick Alba up from the junior school if Eli got stuck at work. Joint family dinners were the norm.
Your relationship evolved through the years. Easily. Blissfully. You grew together. You became taller, however still paling in height compared to your best friend. You got braces and had them removed, You wore contacts most days now instead of your thick rimmed glasses. Though you still could usually be found in the art rooms.
Alexia filled out, she became less gangly and more strong, after years dedicated to football and training. 
Your speech improved. Your stammer only comes out rarely and you know your triggers. You worked hard every week with your speech therapist but you always credited Alexia. She gave you confidence. 
No one at school would roll their eyes or laugh at you when Alexia was by your side. She didn’t rush you. She didn’t finish your sentences. Nothing was more formidable within your school walls than if Alexia had found out someone had made fun of you, or not been patient with you. She got in trouble countless times defending your honor. Even if the teachers hated punishing her for it. 
You maybe realised on some level that you were as important to Alexia as she was to you the day that caused her to miss the U15 School Championship final. 
One of the more idiotic older basketball boys had caught you in the hallway. Trying to impress his gaggle of followers he had tripped you up as you were on your way scurrying into the art rooms to finish the sign you had made for Jaume to wave at the upcoming championship final. You had fallen flat on your face, quickly moving onto your back and pressing yourself against the wall. It had been a while due to Alexia's influence but you had dealt with bullies your entire life and you knew you had to just make yourself small and wait it out. “Oh s-s-s-s-s–s-s-oooorry it w-w-w-as an a-a-a-a-accident!!” the boy taunted you, leaning over you and exaggerating your stutter. 
His spittle hitting your face and making you wince. He brought himself to his full height, which was impressive for a 16 year old and turned to his friends. “Honestly, how is she even in this school, she is so estupida!” His guffaw was matched by his followers however their faces quickly dropped as they looked behind their ringleader. “What did you just say to her?” a cold, terse voice entered the conversation. You didn’t see his face drop but you could imagine it. 
He quickly turned and looked at Alexia standing in the doorway. Sunshine behind her darkening your view. As she stepped into the halfway you took in the thunderous look on her face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her as angry. 
You barely recognised her. “I-i-i sai
” This time he wasn’t impersonating you. 
He knew he was fucked. She moved quicker than you had ever seen her move on the football pitch. The tall boys friends quickly scattered as she grabbed him by his shoulders. He may have had at least two foot of height difference on her but that quickly diminished to nothing as she kneed him squarely between the legs. He doubled over in pain as she landed blow after blow to his stomach. “Alex
 stop.” you instructed, gathering yourself to your feet. 
Your voice cut through her rage and she immediately stopped her punches. He scurried off as soon as he was able to, no serious damage done apart from to his ego
 and maybe his balls. She turned to face you after shouting some choice expletives to his back, face immediately morphing into one of concern, eyebrows furrowed as her hands cupped your face. “¿Estás bien?” She asked, seriously. Hands moving to check you over. 
“Si, Si, estoy bien.” you replied. “You shouldn’t have done that Alex.” you regarded her with sceptical eyes. 
Her brow furrowed further, “What should I have done then? He’s un maton, he hurt you. I taught him a lesson. I would do it again. I would. I am not sorry.” she said firmly as she moved your head beneath her chin and wrapped her strong arms around you. 
You tried to pretend that the butterflies in your stomach erupting at her protectiveness were a normal reaction to a friend. 
Right? She repeated the same platitudes the next day, but this time with Jaumes hand on her shoulder as she sat in the headmaster's office. The boy she had humiliated so happened to be the son of one of the school governors. The headmaster told the footballer and her father that if Alexia apologised to the boy then she would go unpunished, otherwise, he would be forced to stop any of her extra-curricular activities, including the interschool championship final. Which, as headmaster, he really didn't want to do when his school had their first chance of winning in over a decade. She refused. 
She was banned from playing.
The team lost. 
Badly. The guilt ate away at you as you both watched from the sidelines as the 5th goal against your team went in. 
She grasped your knee, and still watched the game. “Stop feeling guilty. I am still not sorry. There are more important things than football conejita.” 
You took a breath and placed your hand on top of hers. You turned to look at her incredulously. “I mean, very few. Football is still in the top 2. Food is 3.” she continued, deadpan. Forcing a laugh out of you. You asked her once, years after first meeting, one sleepover when you were both lying side by side on the Putellas trampoline looking up at the stars. Why was she so patient with you? When no one else was? She looked at you, dumbfounded, genuinely confused by the question. “You have a voice y/n. You deserve to be heard.” she replied. Moving into her favourite position which was pulling all of your weight completely on top of her. Your head rested over her heart. You could hear the thump thump thump against your ear. You hoped she couldn’t feel the fluttering of yours.  
It was that simple to her. “Plus you looked like a rabbit in the headlights when I barged in, you were too cute. Mi pequeña coneja”.
Your Alex. 
You transitioned from best friends into girlfriends at 16 with no fanfare. A shy kiss after a win at Alexia's latest championship sealed it. Her grin splitting her face. Yours matching when you realised your dreams could become a reality. Hands held tentatively in the backseat of Jaumes car as he smiled at the scene through his rear view mirror.  Days later, as you both stood in front of your mami and papi shyly holding hands you realised, squeezing the trembling hand in yours, that it was the first time you had seen Alex nervous. In all of your years of friendship.
Alexia still had her weirdly formal streak, the same as the day you met her, so you let her do what she felt she needed to.
“Senor y Senora y/l/n
 “ she started, taking a breath. “Mi and y/f/n
”
Your parents caught your eye, dumbfounded. She never used their titles. They rarely heard her use your name. You were always conejito.
“Alexia
 estimada
” your mami started, with kind eyes. You could tell she knew what was coming. You shook your head at her slightly, Alexia too caught up in her own moment to notice. Your mami let her speak.
“Mi and y/f/n
”
Your papi, however, was not as emotionally in tune as your mami, “Monito, what is going on? Why are you being muy loca? Have you got mi mija pregnant? I know you're an overachiever bu
” “Papi!” you screeched out, interrupting him. 
Alex stood mouth agape, face flushed as she looked to you for help. “Papi, Mami, Alex is tr
try
tryi
 telling you that we’re together together.” you let out, raising your joined hands. Your mami let out a laugh behind her hands, your papi however stood and exclaimed, “Was that some sort of secret!? Dios Mio of course you are! We thought you had been for years!  You made me change your bedtime story from princesses to football-playing princesses on the day you met!  Why do you think your Mami makes you keep your door open when this one stays, Mija?” 
Now it's your turn to blush as your mouth drops open. As he passes Alexia he gently smacks her upside the head, ruffling her long brunette hair. “Now come on cabeza de bola, me and the guys from work are starting a 5 a side. I need your help on penalties
” You huff out a laugh as your girlfriend is dragged away, confused look stuck on her face - eyebrows adorably drawn and mouth furrowed and clinging to your hand until distance forces her to let go. 
Your mami settles her arm across your shoulders. “I’m happy for you Mija” she mutters, in her gentle tone as you fall into her embrace. “You’re going to marry that girl one day.” Even after everything that would happen and the hell you would feel, you thank God for the unseasonal rain in Barcelona that day in junior school.
And when she was sadI was there to dry her tearsAnd when she was happy, so was IWhen she loved me It wasn’t long after you made your relationship official that you had your first real test.
You knew something was wrong with your girlfriend probably before she did. You knew her like the back of your hand. Though it finally came to a head one early evening at the Putellas household.
You had both picked Alba up from school, and you had set out to making dinner in the Putellas kitchen whilst Alexia's parents were both stuck at work.
It was standard practice, occurring at least once a week. You moved through the kitchen with ease. The ease is what alerted you.
Usually, on nights like these, Alba would huff off to her room like any other pubescent teenager, head stuck in her phone and earphones firmly in place. Alexia however, would usually be found attached to your back, arms wrapped around you as you cooked, or sat at the breakfast bar, swiping chopped veggies til you hit her with a spoon to make her stop, rolling your eyes as she insisted she was a growing girl and she needed the extra.
No, this was too easy, you thought, as you moved around, you missed your big inconvenience in the kitchen and you made sure your pasta sauce was bubbling nicely and went to search for her. 
You find her in the living room, her large frame draped over the sofa, eyes mindlessly watching the TV. But you can tell she isn’t watching whatever is on. Ale isn’t a big TV-watcher. She's very rarely sitting still for long enough to concentrate. The exception being if you're in her lap, where she entertains herself by playing with your hair or tracing the lines on your palm. “Hey, amor, estás bien?” your voice brings her out of her thoughts, “Ey? Ah sí conejito, lo siento, is dinner ready?” she asks, making to stand, but being stopped by your hand on her shoulder.  “Ay, when did I become the hired help, ey?” you ask, trying to tease a smile out of your girlfriend. “Dinner will be ready soon. Tell me what's on your mind.” The thing about Alex is she’s an open book. People may think she is stern and serious but she wears her heart on her sleeve. You can always see her thoughts plainly on her face, so you know something troubling her. She knows she can’t hide it from you, so she doesn’t try. “I’ve been offered a professional contract.” She states, plainley. Your heart lifts for her. Your whole life Alexia has bled football. For many years she believed, and you did too though you would never admit it, that it wouldn't be possible to make a career from the sport. You don’t think you have ever seen Alexia as sad as when she aged out of the Barcelona FC teams. She was devastated. It was a harsh reminder that Spain wasn't the USA. The opportunities are not always available. But the thing you loved most about Alexia was her dogged determinedness. She would train in the morning, in the afternoon, between classes. You are overjoyed that all of that hard work has paid off. Something wasn’t adding up with her reaction, however. “Alex, that's amazing news!” you exclaimed, unable to hide the joy in your voice. “Why are you not more excited? Is it a bad deal?” “No, amor, it is a fair deal.” she sighs. You just look into her eyes, waiting for her to tell you what she wants to share. She takes a deep breath. “It’s Levante, I would have to move to Valencia.” Ah, you see. Your heart breaks at the sad frown painted on the usually stern face of your girlfriend. Your hand moves up to trace her eyebrow, forcing them to unfrown and moving down to cup her cheek. She leans heavily into the warmth of your hand, and damp eyes open, fixing to yours. “Oh Alex, it’s okay” you whisper. The truth is you had always known that with the career your girlfriend was destined to follow, that you would have to spend time away from each other. You already did. Alexia has often been away throughout your friendship and now your relationship for national camps. 
You had a very mature relationship for 17 year olds. Having been woven into each other's lives for so many years. You were part of each other's DNA. You knew how to manage the time without your girlfriend. You were both grade A communicators. You accepted that this would be different, and no doubt unimaginably hard for the footballer, her family was her life. But so was football. And you know you needed to encourage her to take this step. “It’s not okay!” she stated, firmly, sitting up straight on the couch. “It’s not fair! Finally I get what I have dreamed of but it comes at the expense of everything I love. Mi familia, Barcelona, you! Why can’t I have both? I don’t know what to do” “You go to Levante, Alexia.” you say, seriously, “This is a huge opportunity for you.” She looks at you incredulously and you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong. “Oh, so it is that easy for you? Si? You just let me go like it doesn’t even bother you!” You aren’t used to Alexia's stern frown being sent your way, usually it's aimed at someone in defence of you. Or at a goalkeeper.  You, however, know the brunette is feeling vulnerable, she has waves of insecurity at times, she puts so much pressure on herself it's inevitable, but you are always there to assure her of her worth, and your love. “You know that's not true, amor.” you say, tenderly, hand reaching into her brunette locks to sooth her. “I agree, it’s not fair that Barca don’t have a women's team but I have always known your talent would take you away from me, “ she opens her mouth to interject, “but I love you. And I know you love me. We are tethered. Forever. When, not if, you go to Valencia, we will make it work. You know we will amor, you can have both” “But I will miss you.” she whimpers, pathetically. “I will miss you every second. But it will get better, it’ll pass Alex.” Her head finds your neck as she settles in there. Her larger frame is quite comically draped over you. “Do you promise?” she lets out, weakly. And you don’t let a moment pass, “I promise.” and seal your promise with a kiss to the crown of her head. She moves her chin up and faces you, “Beso, por favour” she asks, who are you to refuse? You kiss softly, you don’t know how many minutes you are tasting her sweet lips pass before you are interrupted by a sulky 14 year old.  “Ewwww!”
Alba appeared, making the two of you split apart, her disgust at the scene she's found making you laugh as Alexia peels herself from you, rolling her eyes.
“I’m gonna tell Mami that you two were making out instead of feeding m
ahh!” Albas accusations getting lost as Alexia chases her around the living room, ready to fight in a way only sisters can.
A strange smelling odour fills your nose. Oh
 Oh no. You rush into the kitchen to find your dinner smoking on the hob.
“Oi, Putellas diablos!” You stick your head into the living room where you find Alexia sat on her younger sister whilst she tries to battle off the huge weight she finds on herself. They both pause and look at you guiltily. “C’mon, shoes on, we’re going out to eat, on me, we’re celebrating!”
Both of them unite in cheers as they childishly jump up and run to the front door in glee, shoving each other out of the way to try to get their shoes on first as you watch, affectionately shaking your head.
It will be months later, after a summer filled with memories made with your girlfriend, days at the beach, trips to the market, lazy days at home and soft moments made in the streets of Barna, that you would find yourself alone in bed.
That was weird.
You had spent the day packing with Alexia, the sadness of moving away had started to be replaced with excitement from the tall girl. Her dreams were coming true, okay, it may not be perfect, she finally understands, but it's a step in the right direction.
She can’t believe that she's going to get paid to play football.
Paid. The evening after a long day of packing was spent having a family meal at the Putellas household. Your family is also in attendance. It was a loud and joyous affair and it helped to keep the sadness out of your girlfriend's eyes. After a long evening of sombremesa Alexia had insisted on coming back with you to your parents to your house.
She didn’t want to spend her last evening in Barcelona in her empty bedroom, instead finding solace in yours. You had both talked into the early hours, in the arms of each other, trading soft touches and exchanging breaths until sleep took you. You pretended for her sake that you couldn’t hear her rattling breaths or feel the dampness of her cheeks on your fingers.
Now, however, you were alone, and unsure at what woke you up. Until a tapping comes to your attention. You sit up in bed and hear it again. What is that? You get out of bed and go towards your window, yep, there it is again, coming from outside. You throw open the curtains and peer out into the moonlit garden.
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness but you can’t take that moment because you suddenly are hit squarely in the face by a pebble. 
“Ouch.. what the he
” you stand suddenly and bang your head on the window frame “Ow, Fuck!” “Ay Dios Mío, lo siento amor! I didn’t see you had opened the window!” Alexia's panicked voice reached your ears, why was she in the garden? What the hell was going on? “Are you okay conejito?” You take a moment to steady yourself and your mind into your new and abrupt situation. “Conejito?” “Yes, Alex, I am fine. What are you doing out there?” You’re met with silence. “Al?” The tall brunette is scuffing her foot against the pebbles of the garden that she had previously been launching at the window. “I don’t want to say. I feel stupid now.” You arch your eyebrow in her direction. You don't think that she can even see it but she knows what's aimed in her direction. “I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. And also sad. And muddled. And I will miss you so much so I was just imagining how good it will feel when you visit, or I visit. Or when I score a goal and you’re watching. Which I know you’ve seen but now it's my job.” she rambles, pausing momentarily to take a breath. 
“Anyway, I thought about how cool it would be if I came to visit and woke you up by throwing stones at your window like in a film! You’d love that! Then I just couldn’t wait to do it. So here’s me, doing it. I’m being romantic.” She throws a crooked grin up at the window and your heart literally melts. “I..I
.” and you promptly burst into tears. “Oh no mi amor no! Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to throw a pebble at your face! I’m sorry!” she gestures towards you with her hands frantically. “It’s not that Alex, you’re just such an idiot. And I love you so much. I am going to miss you so much. Get up here.” needing her arms wrapped around you. She nods vigorously and makes to climb the trellis that goes to your window. “No you idiot! Use the door! You have a key!” “Oh yeah.” you hear her mutter to herself before she scurried back inside. As you’re settled back into her warm arms, her huge hands palming through your hair. “That was very romantic Alex.” you mumble and you practically hear her purr with pride at herself. “Next time though bebe, use your key, I would much rather you be here in bed with me.” “Noted.” she mumbles into your skin, wiping away the tears that you can’t stop from rolling down your cheeks. Alexia got settled into her professional team quickly and efficiently, she was one of the youngest but easily the most talented on the pitch. You would travel up with Jaume religiously at the weekends wherever you could, your time in the week spent busy with the Art College you had enrolled in. Alba sometimes tagging along when you bribed her with snacks.
As promised you were there when she scored her first professional goal, her beaming smile sent directly to you and Jaume in the stands, stood cheering for her. You witnessed her wide eyes, after the game, as you stood waiting for your celebratory hug and maybe a cheeky kiss, when she was stopped by a little hand. “Hola.” the small girl had to crane her neck to look up at your girlfriend. She was shaking with excitement. “Hola?” she replied, confused. “Can I have your autograph por favour?” she asked, sweetly. Alexia just stood there, like a sim. 
You stepped forward with your notepad and drawing pencil that you carry everywhere, you had more drawings of inside a football stadium than anyone would need. You ripped out a page and handed Ale the pencil. “Of
of course?” She scribbled down her autograph for the young girl who beamed and ran away holding it above her head to show her mami who picked her up in glee. Alexia's wide eyes stared at you. “Did you see that?” “I saw that bebe, I handed you the pencil. I also saw your goal, superstar!” You couldn’t control your grin, which was mirrored by your girlfriend. “You played so well! Alex!” You're interrupted as she drags you over the fencing and pulls you into a bear hug. Her face nuzzled into your neck, her body vibrating with excitement. “I scored for you conejito!” she says “Well, hija, I won’t be offended, I have only been to every game you’ve played for 10 years” Jaume appears above you both still in the stands, smiling teasing his lips. “And you papa!” she releases you and pulls her papa into a hug. Dragging you back in after a moment before declaring that her first goal means that she deserves pizza and ice cream courtesy of her papa. 
Through the summer and the fall We had each other, that was all Just she and I together Like it was meant to be
You finished your college course and your love for art had never died. You made the trip to Valencia wherever possible to see Alex and she came back to Barna at least once a month to see her family and you on an off weekend. You would spend those weekends living at Alexias house, soaking up every moment together as much as possible. 
She would bring her clothes home for Eli to wash as she was useless at anything practical. You would make sure that you would always snag a sweater of hers before it was washed and keep hold of it, soaking in her scent before you could swap it out again. Alexia, used to pretend she hated it, they would always be returned with paint stains around the cuffs which would harden and she said irritated her skin.  You tried to be more careful but you didn’t stop stealing them.
You saw the same amount of her family as before she moved away, your lives had been so intrinsically linked that you had become an honorary Putellas, and she was a part of your family. You hung around with Alba and you helped Eli with her shopping when her car broke down. You were family.
Weirdly enough, it was you that met Alexia's future best friend first. After college, you started to make money from your art by being a live artist at weddings.
You knew your parents were worried about what you would do with your art. Teaching was the obvious choice but with your speech issues, it was your idea of hell.
This was perfect.
It was a niche business but you got paid well and you loved it. You got to go to weddings for a job. You got to capture people's joy on the most important day of their lives.  You would sit in the corner with an easel set up, sketching and painting guests, the dance floor, the top table. And you could immediately give your paintings to the couple and their guests, the validation was enormous, you were good at what you did. Discreet and professional.
You soon get a client list for miles and the money starts to pour in.
It was at one of these weddings that you met Mapi. She caught your eye during the speeches and you started to draw her outline. She was clearly very very gay at a very straight wedding. But it wasn’t just that that caught your eye, her tattoos intrigued you. And you loved sketching them and adding hints of colour here and there.
She looked up at you and caught you sketching, as guests often would, you were able to not let it distract you, ever the professional you offered a gentle smile.
“You like football?” a heavily accented voice reached your ears as you were adding the finishing touches to the dancefloor scene that was set out before you.
“Que?” It wasn’t often that guests interacted with you, but sometimes it happened.
“Your bag, FC Barcelona? That's not usual for a pretty girl like you, to like football.”
“Ah, Si.” You reply, your eyes not moving from your painting. “It’s my girlfriends.” you reply, emphasising your relationship status, not wanting a moment of confusion.
“Ah, boo, you have ruined my fun.” She replies, “Maria Leon '' She introduces herself, hand out for you to shake, you don’t take her hand, handing your paint-y hands up. She holds her hands up in surrender. “I see, I see. FC Barcelona though. Good team. No women's team though.”
“No, but there will be, and my girlfriend will be their top scorer when it happens”  you reply confidently. “You seem so sure?” “I am.” She lets out a laugh. “I can’t argue with that, then I will be their best defender” she offers a huge smile. Mapis smile is magic and makes you smile.
You and Mapi become firm friends. She talks. And talks and talks and talks. You don’t know how she has so much to say. But she is fun and she is kind. Your stutter makes an appearance as it sometimes does but it is perfectly offset by her inability to stop yapping. You don’t feel a pressure to fill the silence because you know she will. 
Years later, at a supercup final, you will both laugh about your first conversation. About how both of your statements came true. Turns out, people paid well for authentic paintings of their favourite moments. And as a young adult you found yourself with enough money to get yourself a small apartment in Mollet. You loved it. And you loved the independence it brought you. You think that was the happiest time of your life. You would spend days on your sun drenched terracotta tiled balcony. Painting watercolour and sketching the scenes both in your mind and your view over the square that your apartment was on. You had quite the online following and would get some commissions for your art which brought you a sense of purpose and joy. The absolute best time was when Alexia had a free weekend, or a break, she would stay with you and you would live in domestic bliss. It was an unspoken agreement. No question that she would make her base for her time back at your apartment. Even when she wasn’t there you wouldn’t sleep on her side of the bed. More of her clothes made their way into your closet. More of her sweaters would get paint marks on them. You would cook together, sing together, dance together in your small kitchenette. Feeling happy and in love as only young people can. Nothing gets between you. Training had been kind to your girlfriend, and you struggled to keep your eyes off her as she would do basic tasks. She was thick. For want of a better word. Her gangly limbs had become pure muscle, her back would ripple when putting on a t-shirt, you would find yourself staring at her forearms as she would cut vegetables. She knew what she did to you and she loved it. Often sending a wink your was and sending you into more of a stuttering mess then usual, heat climbing to your face. You felt your heart grow as you would go shopping for groceries together. Take strolls in the square, you sitting on a bench and sketching as she inevitably got herself involved in a football game with the local kids. Her favourite time of day would be Friday nights. Often, if she was lucky, she would be scheduled an early kick off on fridays. You would travel back from the game together with her papi. You took the backseat as you knew you would monopolise her time back all weekend. Giving her a chance to catch up with her family. You would get home, she would shower whilst you made a light dinner, both taking it in on the balcony before moving inside and settling on the couch. She would put on some illegally screened recordings of the game she had played in. But she would mute it as she pulled you into her chest. You would have a sketchbook in hand and continue working on your art, or a piece from a wedding that needed finishing up. You always told her the commentary wouldn’t distract you. But she insisted. Once finally saying, “I like the sound of your pencil, it soothes me, and sometimes you trace the sketch on my leg with your free hand. It gives me goosebumps. I like it.” you never asked again. You argued, of course, like any couple did. But it never lasted long. Alex would get angry when she would find paint in the sink, and you would struggle to share your space at first. But you never went to bed in a fight. Even if you tried to be stubborn your body would fail you and you would gravitate towards her in the moments before sleep, muttering your apologies or forgiveness. In those early days of young adulthood it would be the only time in your relationship where you had more money than Alex. 
Football did not pay well. It did not pay a living wage. 
You didn’t care. 
You felt privileged every time you scanned your card for the groceries, or paid for dinner on a date. You knew she hated it though. “One day conejito, I will give you everything life can offer, I promise” she would whisper into your skin whilst she tried to make it up to you in other ways. You would always tell her you had everything you needed right there with you. It was perfect. Life was perfect. You had friends, a stable job, the love of your life. Yes, distance was hard, yes, each time she left you would cry and hold her tighter to you, but you knew it wasn’t forever, and you never felt that distance in your relationship. You grew together, like a plant, your love was carefully cultivated in experiences and shared memories.
And when she was lonely I was there to comfort her And I knew that she loved me
You had never felt sadness like it. It was all encompassing. You couldn’t get away from it. You were sad for your chosen family. You were sad for your own family. You were sad for yourself. But you were devastated for your girlfriend. You didn’t know what to do with so much sadness. You couldn’t hold it in, but you couldn’t let it out. You needed to be strong for your girlfriend. Who was walking around as a shell of the person that you knew her to be. Well, that was when she was walking, she would throw herself into her childhood bedroom and stay there silently for hours. You would be okay with it if she was sleeping, but she just stared at the wall aimlessly. Her Papa was her inspiration. The reason she got into football. She would look up to him even as she towered over him. And it was so so cruel that he had been taken away from her in such a manner. A week after Jamues passing you found yourself next to Alexia at his funeral. It was a beautiful affair, a celebration of the life of a man who loved hard and was loved hard. The morning had been difficult, you had ironed Alexia's dress and set it out for her. She took your instruction like a small child, you brushed her hair straight and pulled it out from her face. You struggled to speak. Such immense grief you felt the words became garbled in your mouth, rendering you mute. But you didn’t want any pressure on Alexia. 
You knew when your stutter made an appearance she would drop everything, concentrate on doing your exercises with you, hand automatically cupping your jaw and massaging the soft area beneath your ear because she knew that relaxed your facial muscles. So you both moved around silently. That morning. As you guided her around what needed to be done. As you packed her bag with tissues you hoped that you needed to use them. You hadn’t seen her cry since she rushed home from Valencia to the news. So no, you didn’t know what to do with your grief. You loved him too. He was the first person you had loved and lost. You had your own special relationship built from long car journeys and shared snacks. He would put your art on his fridge like you were one of his own. He was kind and he was half of the person who you loved to your core. God. If you felt like this. You don’t know how Alexia was still breathing. You had been spending all week as the Putellas household. Not leaving Alex's side. But also not leaving Alba, who would lean heavily into you of an evening, seemingly crying all of the tears that her sister couldn’t. It felt healthy though, through the tears you could share memories and make her laugh. You would go to bed with Alex and the silence would continue. When you were sure she was asleep you would sneak out of bed and grab your sketch pad, settle into the corner of the room and just let it out. Her dad told you once at a game how his father worked as a coal miner. He said it proudly, he adored hard work. That's where Alexia got her devotion from. It was a passing moment, a memory that you didn't even know you had. But it stuck with you as you went into the Putellas garden and took a lump of coal from the barbeque and settled yourself into the dewey grass. Hand not stopping over your sketchpad and tears rolling down your cheeks.
The night after the funeral you stayed at your own parents house. You couldn’t handle the loneliness of your own apartment. You didn’t want to intrude at the Putellas residence, and you hoped that maybe some time with her family would be what Alexia needed to open up. You were right, but not in the way you imagined. A soft clink, clink, clink, woke you up, This time you were not frightened. You had heard this noise before. You immediately jumped out of bed and ran to your window, showing it open and shoving your head out. “Alex! What are you doing here, why didn’t you use your key?” The brunette looked up at you with sad eyes, you saw she was in her pyjamas, eyes sideways showing no car, she had walked here. “I forgot it.” she let out, morosely. “Oh mi amor, no p..p..problem, hold on I will come down and let you in.” before you had a chance to bring your body back into the house you heard her again, “You left me.” your heart cracked into two. You didn’t reply but instead hurried downstairs into the moonlit garden. She stood there, with all her muscle and height, looking everything like a toddler who was lost in a supermarket. You took her hand in yours and used your other to cup her cheek. “Oh, mi amor I didn’t leave you, I thought you wanted some space.” Maybe you expected her to agree, maybe you expected her to disagree and shout at you for getting it so wrong. You didnt realise that you were to her, like an umbrella in the rain, protecting her from the downpour. With you gone she drowned in the grief. You didn’t expect her lip to tremble and her to burst into tears. “I want my papa.”  Those 4 words broke your heart as you huddled her into your arms, rocking lightly to bring her confort. There was nothing you could say, you just brought her into your bed and held her as she cried, painting her skin with whispers of your love “I know, bebe, I know, I promise it’ll pass, I promise, and I will be here. The pain will go. It will pass Alex and I will be here.” It became a mantra that you whispered into her skin.
As she calmed down you took a moment to think. As you got out of bed and she groaned in annoyance you hushed her with your lips to her skin. “Un momento, mi amor, I have something for you.”
You presented it nervously, unsure of the reaction you would get.
It was a framed picture that you had created. Not like your usual artwork as it was made from coal. Coal from the Putellas barbecue to be exact. It was a sketch of a man in the stands of a football stadium, somehow, eyes beaming with pride, laugh lines visible on his face. A footballer with a long ponytail and similar features jumping into his arms.
It was a scene you had witnessed hundreds of times throughout the years. You didn’t need to see it again to create it. The coal added a haunting and beautiful dimension to it. When you explained your reasoning Alexia looked deeply into your eyes. Holding onto the frame with white knuckles like her life depended on it.
“I love you.” 
And when Alexia scored and helped her team to win the U19 Championship for her country not 3 weeks later. Celebrating with eyes to the sky, fingers pointed. You knew that, eventually, she would be okay. 
So the years went by I stayed the same But she began to drift away I was left alone Still, I waited for the day When she'd say, "I will always love you"
It was as though it had been destined for years but finally finally the news came that Barcelona FC would have a women's team. Mapi had texted you with glee when the news broke out, she knew that she was stuck in her own contract but the fact it existed made it a possibility for her dreams to come true. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, was a free agent. You thought, privately, that even if she wasn't a free agent that she would break every law on planet earth to play for her childhood club. She was offered a contract and signed without any hesitation. A mist in her eyes at the missing presence in her signing photos. You drove with Alba to collect her and all her things from a year in Valencia directly to your apartment. As you unpacked her stuff, Alba on a food run with money you had shoved into her hand, your small flat suddenly felt full. “Alex,” You called, from the living room, you heard her shuffle around and pop her head into the bedroom where you stood, surrounded by boxes. “Si, conejito?” she asked, breathlessly. You took in her smile, that you had missed over the months, the light in her eyes, the ease of her movements. “I am just asking, I don’t actually remember asking you to move in?” You say, teasingly, gesturing to her boxes surrounding you. It was true, you hadn’t, it had just been assumed by both of you, as well as both of your families. A blush rose up her neck, “I mean
 I-i-..”. You burst out laughing. “I am just teasing you”. A glint in her eyes took over and you had half a second to brace yourself before you were tackled by an almost 6ft wall of muscle. You landed gently on the bed with a thump. “Well, light of my life. I think it’s too late for that. Maybe I can make up for my rudeness.” Her voice takes on a sultry tone, attacking your neck with kisses, making you groan. “No, No, No, No, stop it you two! Why is this my life!” Well. Alba was back, You groaned as Alexias full body weight fell onto you as she heard her sister. You had a feeling you both had plenty of time to make up for it. Living with Alexia full time was natural. You had obviously had practice from the year she spent in Valencia but you didn’t realise how easy it would be. You knew where to step to not fall over her boots in the hallway without looking. 
You amended your grocery show to include all her weird protein-packed foods. She would help you get ready for work in your evening gowns that you had to wear to fit in at the weddings, and she would stay up to make sure you got home safe and listened as you babbled on about your favourite parts, all the while taking it in for ideas for your own wedding. You continued to make money at weddings, Alexia rose through the ranks at the new Barcelona Femini team. Quickly establishing herself as a calm and serious captain. 
She took her role seriously,  she would study games religiously at home as you would paint or sketch. Your easel set up in the living room or on the balcony. She would rub your shoulders as you painted, eyes set on the TV at the game. The shared time doing your own activities matched you both perfectly. And just like that, years passed. Years in domestic bliss. Spent together and with your families. Vacations in Ibiza and even a pet cat called Pablo Petcatso, or Pabs for short, entered your little family unit. He was a ginger cat who loved a cuddle and loved getting into Alexia's kit bag, he even made it to the training once or twice, and you had to drive over there to pick him back up. Dragging him away from 22 cooing footballers. 
Women's football grew, as did Alexia's paycheck. And with that, you think, looking back, as did the cracks in your relationship.
“We're here!” Alexias excited voice explained, you had pulled up outside a tall apartment building in the centre of Barcelona. She hadn’t shared with you where you were going. Insisting it needed to be a surprise.
“And where is here?” you looked up at the towering glass building above you, you didn’t come into the city much, you preferred the quiet of your suburb.
“You’ll see, you’ll see!” Her excitement was catching, and you found yourself giddy as the elevator took you further into the skies of the city.
“Ta-da!” She presents a huge open plan space before you, the glass fronted living room has views over the city to the sea. You could count at least 3 bedrooms from where you stood in the hallway. The kitchen was sleek, straight lines and clean granite. 
“What is this place?” you ask, confused, taking in your surroundings. “It's our new apartment!” What? “What?” you breathe out. “Don’t you love it?!” Alexia remains giddy, her excitement not fading and she fails to notice your unenthused reaction. Your mind whirred. “Come look, come look!” she grabbed your hand, and pulled you further into the apartment. Proudly presenting each room to you. “And this room. I thought you could have it as your art studio!” “Art studio?” you whisper. “Yeah! Isn’t it so cool, and so much space. Now I wont get cross at you for getting paint all over the kitchen! Pabs will have so much room to explore!” She turns around and pulls you into her embrace, you are still shellshocked at everything presented to you. “I promised you, didn’t I? I would give you the world conejito.” Her eyes are so bright with joy, the smile so wide on her face, you couldn’t help but smile. Yes, the sleek lines, the large space, and the modern kitchen were beautiful. You didn’t see it for yourself, you preferred your terracotta tiled balcony and your plants overtaking your kitchenette. You loved painting in your living room when Alexia would watch a match. Pabs crawling over your shoulders, your little bubble with your family. But you could see how proud Alex was of herself, of what she had achieved. You must have taken a moment too long, as her eyebrows furrow. “You don’t like it.” you said, plainly, “No
 No Alex, I do! I was just so surprised. I love it, and I love you.” “Yeah?” her eyes brighten again. You kiss her lips softly, “Yeah.” “Good! And think conejito, maybe one day there would be room for a bigger family?” she asks, shyly. Your heart melted as you nodded frantically and threw yourself into her embrace. As Alexia's career grew, so did the pressure on her. She was often away, it was something your whole relationship had survived, but now, being away with both club and country, as well as in an apartment that had never truly felt like home. You felt lonely. You would come home from weddings with only Pabs to greet you, you would create art in your studio without the background noise of Alexia watching a game, or preparing a smoothie. She would do that in the living area. Nights together were rarer. Your love never dimmed. Alexia showed you in her every movement that she adored you. Date nights, whilst few and far between, were the highlight of your week. Though that soon became the highlight of your month. The one saving grace during this time was that Mapi had finally joined Barcelona Femini and you took it on yourself to be her personal Barcelona guide. As Alexia's fame grew, you shied more into the background. You weren't an extrovert. You would never hide your relationship and you never asked Alexia to but the only social media that you had was that to promote your artwork. Meanwhile, Alexia's followers grew and grew. A few crazed fans had deep dived into her archives and knew of you but that was only a portion of the fanbase. She hated the delving into her private life, and that caused her to stop posting anything of you onto her public accounts. Any trace of you, gone. Before being a footballer, in Alex’ mind, she was your protector, that hadn’t changed from 15 years ago. With 2021 came great change. All of the years of dreams and hard work had paid off and Barca had reached the champions league final. You travelled to Gothenburg with Eli and Alba, a nervousness in your stomach more than usual. For both your girlfriend and your best friend. You celebrated the win with a euphoria you had rarely felt. Everything felt worth it. The lonely nights, the travel around the country, the sacrifices you had to make as the partner of La Reina.
And as she pulled you into her arms after the final whistle, and pulled you over the barricade the same way she did when she scored her first professional goal your heart couldn’t swell more with pride. You don’t want to say that Alexia changed after the Ballon D’or. Because she didn’t. Well, maybe she did, she suddenly sported bright blonde locks which, you admit was sexy, but you missed the softness her natural hair gave her face. By the second Ballon D’or you thought maybe it was you that changed. Maybe it was you that put up a barrier. One that couldn’t be identified easily. But with study it could be noticed. The problem was that Alex wasn’t there to notice. Yeah, you were together, you did things together, you made love and you made memories. You went back to Mollet regularly and ate with your families and you went to games with Alba.  But Alexia was busy. She had brand deals, she had interviews, she had achieved her dream of being the best footballer in the world. You knew she was since you were 12. But now the world knew too. And the world wanted her attention. 
Oftentimes she was exhausted when she got home. She didn’t want to cuddle on the couch. She didn't want to walk around the plaza. She didn’t want to hear about your day. She would ask, but you could tell her mind was elsewhere, in some contract somewhere, so you started to lie. To give answers which would satisfy her without arousing suspicion. Always trying to put her ease first. 
You would decline for nights out with her teammates, you even lied once or twice and said you had a wedding to paint, just to avoid suspicion. Alexia would take your answer as the truth, and kiss your cheek lightly as she left the apartment which quickly felt like it had become your prison. Mapi could see through you. She would try to get you to talk, but she was Alexia's team mate. Alex was her captain. It didn’t feel right to discuss your relationship issues with her. Not when you wouldn’t even talk to the woman in question about it. You found yourself in the familiar seats of the Johan Cryuff stadium taking in the first home game of the new season. Alba and Eli by your side. The first game was always a family affair. With the Putellas cousins in attendance, a restaurant booked for this evening for you all. It was an easy win for the Champions of Europe. And as you stood with Mapi and her new girlfriend Ingrid at the end of the match chatting, Patri bounded over, sweat on her brow and joy in her eyes. “Hola Senora La Reina” she teased you, kissing your cheek, you had been around the team so much that they all knew you well. “Ay, Idiota, hands off” and large, familiar hands wrapped around your middle, a kiss planted to your other cheek as you melted into her embrace. “Congrats bebe” you muttered, craning you neck you see her looking down at you with a smile. “Senora Reina, you’ll come out for drinks with us to celebrate the win, won’t you?” Parti asked, full of joy. 
The attention of the 4 footballers on you suddenly unsettled you. Maybe it was the busy environment. Maybe it was being with Ingrid who you’d only met a few times. Maybe it was Alexias hands around you for the first time in what felt like months. But you struggled to get your words out. “Ah, gra
grac
gracias  for the invite diablo, but m
m
me
” “She’s coming out with mi familia Patri, it’s tradition! You know that! Vamos, I will come out quickly for a drink then join you all, conejito” Alexia interrupted you, planted a final kiss on your cheek and headed to the changing rooms. She didn’t feel you freeze in her embrace. She didn’t see Patri and Mapis expressions change. She didn’t see Ingrid's look of confusion. You felt sick. You felt like you were about to burst into tears. Your throat burned and you struggled to swallow. 
You felt small. You shuffled your feet on the ground and looked up to see Mapis' face had grown furious, her girlfriend's arm had come to rest over her shoulders, trying to settle her but unsure why. You went straight into damage control. Alexia has protected you your entire life. She had never interrupted you, she knew you couldn’t stand when people would finish your sentences. It was the worst thing you could do to someone with a stutter. She knew that. You don’t know why Alexia's endless patience ran out that day. But you knew you wanted to protect her from your best friend's rage. You knew it would happen one day, you just wish it had happened without any witnesses. For both of your sakes. “Mapi, it's fine.” “It is not fine!” Patri backs away from the situation with a kiss to your cheek and an apologetic look. “I don’t know what's wrong with her lately. I am going to kill her
” she moves towards the changing rooms but you pause her with a soft hand. “Maps, please don’t. It’s f
f
okay. I am okay. Ju
just go get changed and go on your night out. I will t..text you tomorrow. Please.” You look to Ingrid for help, you don’t know her well but she has the power over Mapi seemingly, and as she guides her to the changing rooms the small Spaniard seems to settle down. 
Not enough though, apparently, because as soon as she sees her captain again, a flicker of that rage comes back to her. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Mapi hisses to her captain, “Maria, stop” Ingrid tugged her by the elbow, trying to take her away. Alexia looked up from her phone with a look of indignation, yes she was Mapis friend but she was still her captain, and they were in front of the whole team. Her defensive wall immediately came up. “Discuple?” Her eyes cast across the changing room, their team mates continued to get changed and pretended they weren’t eaves dropping into the mini argument that had developed.
“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mapi spat out. “Why did you interrupt her?” Something in Alexia's stomach dropped. Her hands become clammy, her body reacting to the accusation before her mind could. “What? I didn’t. I would never.” she whispers in reply, but more to herself. “No, No I didn't.” she said more surely, somewhat desperately. 
Mapi takes in her best friend's demeanour, the usually stoic and strong captain looked devastated, maybe even petrified? Mapi knew what she had done, but could see that Alexia would punish herself more than Mapi ever could. She stepped away, guided by Ingrid. Leaving Alexia to replay the last 10 minutes, desperately. Mapi saw the moment that realisation came to the Catalan Captain, as she bolted out of the changing room, hair damp, throwing her shirt on as she sprinted back into the stadium. Which is where she found you, moments later. You were sitting in the friends and family section, Alexias new baby cousin settled onto your knee, playing with your hands and babbling to himself. You made cooing noises and spoke softly to him and all her Tias and Tios got rounded up for your meal out. You felt her presence behind you, you could practically feel her anxiety coming off her in waves. You looked back quickly and confirmed your suspicions, her blonde hair damp and wetting her shoulders, her foot twisting against the concrete floor, hands knotted together and bottom lip drawn into her lip, chewing anxiously. “It’s fine Alex.” you said, as you turned, attention back on the baby in your lap. She must have seen this acknowledgement as her body surged towards you, she loudly collapsed into the seat next to you, the anxiety coming off her in waves. “Conej
” she started. “No Alex, I pr
pr
 I swear. It’s okay. But I’m currently holding the ba
bab
ba
 child.” you take a sigh. “I am holding the child and I don’t want to cry so p
please. It’s okay.” If it's possible. She looked even more devastated. Her whole face collapsed. She hated when you would revert to old techniques to speak, by changing up your words mid sentence. Alexia was your protector. It was her proudest badge. Before she was a footballer, in her mind, she was your partner. And she had let you down. She had done the worst thing she could have done. To an outsider Alexia's moment of impatience may have been a minor indiscretion at most. But to you? To Alex? It was the basis of your whole relationship. You felt safe with her. You had a voice, she said, all those years ago when you fell in love, and you deserved to be heard. And now she has brought that into question. “Can I touch you?” she asked, gently. This brought tears to your eyes and you nodded, whilst still entertaining the baby in your lap with coo’s and a false smile. She touched your knee, the heat of her hand bleeding into your skin. “You don’t need to mask in front of me y/f/n.” Alexia never used your name. “Please. Use the words you want to use. I am here to listen. Always.” You are interrupted as Alexias Tia comes to claim her baby, who you hand back with a last pat on the stomach and raspberry to the cheek. You are trying to avoid the next 5 minutes you know will happen. Alexia is somewhat rude when her Tia offers her congratulations, eyes boreing into your head. You sweep your hair back as you face her, having had a moment to think you get your words out easier. “Alex, it’s okay. It was bound to happen one day. Don’t worry about it. Please. Go out with your friends. I will go to the meal as planned. I promise. Alba will drive me home later.” “No.” Alexia says desperately, clutching your hand in hers, “Let’s just go home, amor. Please.” “Ale I made a promise to your mami. I am going to eat. I will see you later.” you press a kiss to her cheek and wander off towards her family.  As she stands, watching you interact with her sister and her mami, her teammates call her over. She feels torn. She just wants to go home with you. She just wants to wrap you up in cotton wool and keep you in her arms. Safe. But you don’t want that right now, so she turns to do as instructed. Throwing one more glance your way, missing Albas worried face as she wipes a tear from your cheek.
Lonely and forgotten Never thought she'd look my way And she smiled at me and held me Just like she used to do Like she loved me When she loved me
You came home early. You asked if Alba could drop you off as soon as you had finished your meal. She was happy to oblige, worried about your silence the entire meal. You were looking down at your phone as you entered your apartment. Assuring Mapi again that you were fine and she should enjoy her drinks. You go to flick on the light in the living area when a stream of light below the door of your studio distracts you. You push the door open cautiously and see Alexia standing there, looking at your work in progress. It was different to your usual work. A close up sketch of a hand, wrapped around a flower, tenderly, it was in the early stages, you could see the lines of the palm and the blades of grass in the field behind. It was mounted onto canvas on your easel and the splashes of colour you had started to add contrasted against the paleness of the room. She hadn’t heard you enter, too lost in the image before her, but Pabs making a run for the door as it opened brought her attention to you. As you stand there, under her gaze, you struggle to remember the last time you saw Alexia in your studio. Yeah she would bob in to let you know dinner was ready, or that she was heading out, but she didn’t come in often enough to take in your work anymore. Now it wasn’t forced on her in the living space. It seemed Alexia had the same realisation as she broke her gaze with you and gestured towards your painting, and then further, to your desk overlooking the window, where more of your work lay. “You’re amazing. I didn’t
 I.” a deep breath. “I hadn’t forgotten but I think I
 Got lost? Somewhere along the way?” you tilt your head curiously. You don’t know what she’s talking about. “I have been a bad partner to you.” 
“Alex
” “No. I have. And I’m not interrupting you but I won’t let you lie to protect me.” her eyes go again to your easel. “You’re amazing. You are so talented. You are filled with so much kindness. You deserve so much more than this.” her eyes fill with tears and she looks at you. “I tried. You know? I promise I did. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought this,” she gestures towards you and around you “was what you deserved. And it is. But more than that you deserve everything.” She takes a step towards you and grasps your hands with hers, her hands are cold, you note. As you take her in you see dried tear tracks down her cheeks, and
 damp hair. “Alexia, did you not go out with the team?” “How do you think that I could go out with the team after what I did?” she asks, aghast. The reminder of the way the evening went washes over you. Alexia panics when she sees your eyes fill with tears. And she pulls you into her chest. “I am so, so sorry mi amor. I am so sorry” she whispers into your hair. “I have broken something sacred between us. And I will never forgive myself.” she swears to you. Though that doesnt bring you any joy. “I forgive you Alex.” she shakes her head in despair, joining you in tears. “You said it was bound to happen someday,” she starts, “Do not think like that amor. It was not. This is not your fault. In any way. It is mine. Please don’t think that, you deserve to be heard. I am so so sorry. So sorry. I will never do it again, promesa.”  All you can do is nod into her chest.
She pulls you from the room and settles you both into the sofa, keeping the light off, only the skyline of the city illuminating your living room through the large, glassed wall. 
She lets you cry into her t-shirt, soaking it more than her damp hair, and through the darkness you pull away and take in her face, she looks youthful. Gone, the professional make up, the expensive jewellery, and hair darkened by the dampness from her shower. You take in a large choked breath. “We need to talk.” you let out. Fear takes over her features and she starts to shake her head. “No, Mi Conejito please no, don’t do this.” she wails. It is a heart wrenching sound. She thinks she's going to be sick. “Woah, woah, woah” you place your hands on her cheeks and pull her panicked eyes to yours; “Mi amor I am not breaking up with you.” you state, clearly. “I am not. Now breathe with me.” Her eyes steady from their darting around the room in fear, and you place your hand on her chest, making her breathe with you. “Okay, okay
 okay. Yes, please. Talk to me.” she begs, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs.  “I feel alone. I feel
 sa
sad. A lot of the time. And I know
 you y
you aren’t doing it on pur
purpose.” Your girlfriend looks heartbroken. Like she had just found out her entire family had died. But refuses to interrupt you as you speak. But you have needed this conversation for so long, that the words start to tumble out of you. Getting lodged in your throat. Har large hand comes up to that familiar place, and massages the soft tissue behind your jaw. Trying to help you without interrupting. “You aren’t doing it on purpose.” you repeat. She pauses for a moment and doesn't ask what you thought she would. “Why am I making you anxious?” she asks, cutting through your thoughts. You move away from her and settle your elbows to your knees. Rubbing your face as you feel a large hand settle onto your back. You hated your stutter. You hated that it ruled your life, but most of all you hated how it exposed you. You were like a child who can’t hide a blush in front of their crush. “You aren’t, Alexia.” “Alex.” she corrects, “I am Alex to you” she insists, “your Alex. It’s just me, mi amor.” she looks at you desperately. “I feel alone, you are never here, and when you are here physically, you aren’t here in your head. Your head is in the clouds, it is with your agent, with your coach, it is not with me.” you’ve started now, so you won’t be able to stop yourself “it is me and Pabs and, even though you're dumb as bricks bebe, you're a better conversationalist than him” you try to joke, a half smile on your face. Which she matches, hand not stopping her ministrations on your back. 
“I cannot remember the last time we just sat together, the last time that we cooked together. Can you Alex?” you don’t receive a reply, 
“I haven’t had your eyes, look at me, really look at me for months. You give your time so easily to those around you, your team mates, people I see you out with at events. I can’t blame you, this is what you always dreamed of. But
 I miss you.” Your speech is strong now; “and I love you. That will never change. But you need to know how I am feeling. So it's fair to you. I feel as though you are bigger than the world. And I am just the girl you saved in the art room.” She is openly crying now. “Don’t say that, you are everything” she mumbled, through tears. 
She knew that she had been busy. But she didn’t realise the damage that she had done. She had been to events, you had been at her side. But. When was the last time she asked about a wedding you’d worked? God, you used to sit for hours describing the beautiful scenes, and she’d store away ideas for your own wedding.  The last gallery you had shown at? When had she last visited your mami and papi, who had been there for her her entire life? She kept you off social media for your protection, but she didn’t mean to erase you. When had she become so god damn selfish. “Amor, I think that somewhere along the way, I had forgotten, and forgotten to remind you. There are more important things than football. Well. Football is second”.
You are thrown back to a memory, a school championship 15 years ago, sat on the bleachers watching your school get destroyed. The lanky football captain sat by your side. You can’t help it but tears fill your eyes. You missed her. That girl. The one you were and the one she was. “But.. you told me once, that I could have both.” she whispered, into your neck, “and you can, Alex. Of course you can. But you have to want both. And at the moment. It feels. It feels like you don’t want me.” “No! Mi Amor, Mi Vida, Mi Conejito. You are everything. Eres mi mundo. I am nothing without you.” she takes a breath, deep and shuddering. “I will fix this. Thank you for telling me how you feel. I have a chance to fix this. Si?” she asks, desperately. You nod, “Of course Alex, and it's for both of us to fix, I should have said something sooner.” She refuses your admittance of guilt and drags you into bed. She sticks to you like a second skin. Moves with you to brush your teeth. Standing waiting whilst you use the toilet. She places a fresh glass of water on your bedside table.You want to tell her to give you a bit of space, but the fear in her eyes prevents you from doing so. As soon as you crawl into your side of the bed she has pulled you into her embrace and the warmth that fills you goes beyond the shared body heat. For the first time in a long time, you wake up in the strong arms of Alexia. She hasn’t moved in the night an inch, and you take a moment to take her in. This is what you missed. Just breathing the same air as her. Just existing in the same space. As though she can feel you looking at her she begins to stir. Taking a moment to come to her senses, her arms grip you tighter around your waist. “Hola, Mi amor” she whispers into the air. Your response is a kiss to her lips, which she steals, hungrily. As you deepen the kiss you feel her begin to pull away. “Lo siento, mi amor, we cannot get carried away. Things to do.” your heart hurts again. You roll off the taller girl and reach for your phone as a distraction. 
You thought, maybe, just maybe, for today at least. You would spend the day together. “Things to do!” she repeats, jumping out of bed with glee. “Where’s your passport”. That grabs your attention. “Que?” you ask, confusingly. “Your passport amor, Vamos!” She had long ago left the bed, and had started moving around the room, picking up various bags which had definitely not been there when you went to bed and moving them into the hallway. She was like a ball of energy, she stripped off her oversized t-shirt she had worn to bed, leaving her standing in just her boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight. Well, you think, at least all the time not spent with you was doing something good. You find yourself in a trance, practically salivating at your view.
A change of clothes being thrown at your head brings you out of your stupor. “Dressed. Go.” Alexia teases you, definitely having caught you starting. This makes you finally start to move as you shrug on the jogging bottoms and hoodie she threw at you. Happily, you note, it's one of hers that you’ve already destroyed with paint marks on the cuffs. “Why do you need my passport Alex? What's with the bags?” “We’re going on vacation!” That stops you, half in, and half out of your hoodie. Getting yourself stuck. “Vacation?” you ask, voice muffled by the fabric. You hear Alexia make her way over to you, then feel her gently pull you free from your fabric prison. “Si
” she gently tells you. A look overcomes her face which you can’t distinguish, then she kisses your nose, softly. “Vacation. Just me and you amor.”
“But what about work?” you ask, still catching up. “You don’t have anything booked for 6 days, I checked your calendar. And where we are going, you can bring all your art things if you need them. I’ve packed the basics in my carry-on already.” “Not my work. Alex, your work. You have a busy week.” at this point you seem to have lost her attention as she turns to your question dismissively. “I cancelled it.” she replies, simply. “You cancelled it.” you repeat. “Si.” “Alexia! Have you lost your mind! You have training, you have that meeting with Oakley - you have the pre-euros media to do! You have a game in 3 days”  you reel off her calendar, watching as she continues to dress and pack her toiletries. She heaves out a sigh and turns back to you.
“Conejito, I know what I had, you don’t need to tell me I have just spent all night cancelling all of them. I spoke to Jona and he’s happy for me to miss the game. The rest of it doesn’t matter.” she moves closer to you again, “So no, I have not lost my mind. But, I did almost lose you, so please. Please tell me where your passport is so we can get on the plane I booked. Mapi will be here in a moment to take Pabs for the week.”  You find yourself standing there, stunned. She seemingly had thought of everything. You look into the hall at the bags packed there ready to go. Pabs sniffed them curiously. She’s looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. There's nothing else for you to do you suppose. As you turn from her and open your bedside table,  a smile can’t be kept off your face, you turn triumphantly with your passport held high. “Voila!” you present it to her; “What are you waiting for then Alex! We've got a plane to catch!” as you scurry out of the room and you hear the front door knock. Alexias cackle behind you. Alexia was always full of surprises when she wanted to be and she remained tight lipped all the way to the airport, refusing to tell you your destination. 
You assumed it would be one of the islands somewhere, with the size of her luggage maybe somewhere farther afield, sun, sea and a pool somewhere promised. But she shocked you. When you got to the check in desk and realised you were flying to Switzerland you could have been knocked down with a feather. Your Alex, who was upset when she even had to wear a bikini top in the month of August, has booked for you to go to Switzerland? 
She ignored your curious stare and just continued to sweet talk the check in lady, upgrading you to business class. As you descended hours later, between the snow peaked mountains against a stunning orange sun you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your hands itched to claim the sketch book from Alexias carry on. Soon, after collecting your luggage and Alexia picking up a hire car that has also been pre booked (seriously did this girl sleep at all the night before?), you found yourself being driven through a mountain forest, as a lodge that seemed to cling to the mountainside came into view, isolated and beautiful. You stood on the wooden balcony, hands gripping a warm drink as you took in the view of the sun setting behind the mountains. “Look at that, Amor.” you felt, more than heard, whispered against your ear. Lips planting a kiss at your jaw as strong hands settle over your stomach. 
You fell back into her embrace. “It’s so beautiful.” you replied, eyes focused on the scene before you. “I saw this advert. Months ago.” she continued. “Just in the back of a catalogue at work. They will have the Euros near here, you know, 2025?” That made you snort with laughter. “Ah, I see Putellas, now it makes sense how you’ve been dragged from the beach, scoping out the environment are we? Anything for that competitive edge.” your teasing is clear in your voice. 
You feel a pinch on your stomach, “No, idiota,” though the laugh is clear in her voice. “I saw that advert and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It is so beautiful here.” you hum in agreement, “But what I could not get out of my head was that I wanted you to see it. I love seeing the world through your eyes.” 
She turns you in her embrace and she places a gentle kiss to your forehead as you feel her breathe you in. “You see things so beautifully, Amor, and then you paint them for the world to see. You are so special.” Your heart melts at the blonde, and you feel some of the despair that had settled into your stomach over the last months shrink. Here Alexia was, at work, flicking through some promotional material between interviews and training, and her thoughts are with you. “And I will not let you forget how special you are, ever. Never again”. You spent those days in pure bliss. You spend the days hiking - her pretending to be as tired as you at the peak of a mountain, she was a terrible actress but you appreciate the sentiment non the less - having picnics, exploring the mountain villages, and on one particularly spicy day, skinny dipping in an isolated mountain lake that a swiss teammate had told Alexia about. Evenings were spent looking up at the stars together, you firmly in alexias lap on the balcony, sharing a glass of wine which you held. She pointed out stars that her Papa had shown her and given silly names to, and you were there to catch her tears. She would complain only minimally that she was cold, and you would offer to warm her up and she would lead you gently into the bedroom. Nights spent in each other's embrace, sighs shared and no alarms to wake you. You would dance around the kitchen, play cards at the table, share wine and stories and just catch up. 
The pit in your stomach mended with each kiss, each peel of laughter and each stroke of the skin. 
One evening, after the skinny dipping adventure in which the footballer insisted that she must have hypothermia and had taken herself off over an hour ago telling you she wasn’t coming out of the warm shower until she had become a prune. You had started to add the finishing touches to a sketch of the scene beyond your lodges window when you felt the blonde return into the room, You eyed her quickly, flannel tartan pyjamas covering her tall frame, hanging over her wrists, matching shorts which are despicably short. Fuzzy socks on her feet. She looked absolutely adorable. 
You didn’t know why she was staring at you though, She moved towards you and you made space for her on the couch.  “You have your glasses on, Conejita.” she mumbled, and you reached up, as though to confirm they were on your face, “I didn’t know you still wore them.” You didn’t, too be honest, but with the long day of fresh air and a strong sun on the mountainside your eyes had grown tired. You shrugged at her, as she placed a soft kiss on your lips. Lovesick look in her eyes. “You’re so hot.” She mumbled, more to herself. You hear though, and the blush runs up your neck. 
You moved to get your work off your lap but she stopped you, pulling you back into her embrace and you automatically moved your knees up to rest your sketchbook there. “Carry on, please.” her chin rested on your shoulder. You hesitated, you didn’t come all this way to not spend time with the blonde, you wanted to soak in every minute. You wouldn’t be happy if she started to kick a ball around in the kitchen. She could sense your hesitation, “please. Remember, I like the sound of your pencil.” she moves your free hand to her bare thigh, “and it gives me goosebumps.” You fell in love again over those 6 days. You never fell out of it. But maybe you both just needed reminding. You felt whole, your communication about how you were feeling had worked, Alexia had listened. You just had one worry though, as the plane landed back in Barna you couldn’t hold it in. “Alex.” you said, before the seatbelt sign came on, gripping her arm lightly. “This was the best trip of my life. Thank you.” Her smile cracked her face, and she looked immensely proud of herself. “Mine too, Amor.” she agreed, easily, her face was peaceful . “But. I can’t go back to how things were again, si? I don’t think I could survive it, not after this week.” she's already shaking her head. “It won’t, I promise. I will not let that happen. Me and you, Si? That is all that is important” you take a moment, “And Pabs.” you amend for her, breaking the tension. “Si, of course” she rolls her eyes, “and Pablo Petcatso.” 
When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart When she loved me
“Hey, Al?” you shout, into the living room as you enter your flat. It's been a few weeks since you returned from your impromptu get away. A busy few weeks. You have been booked up and Alex had to make up for the time she had lost, Barca were still in 4 competitions so the match load was heavy. You could see she was trying though, so that made the darkness that had started to creep back in more bearable. She wasn’t home from training yet. Which disappointed you more than usual. You were giddy. 
You had just found out that your art had been selected to be shown at a huge gallery opening in the centre of the city. An established and high-end gallery. It was a big deal, and it was potentially your big break. You got flutters in your stomach even thinking about the commissions it could make you. Pabs popped his head around the door and you picked him up giddily and span him around, his meow in response you took as a congratulations as you danced and laughed. You didn’t hear the door behind you open but you heard your favourite voice in the world, “And what have I walked into here, hey, a party with my favourite two? Without me?” Alexia laughed.  “Alex, we're celebrating!” you let Pabs free from your grip as he scurried away from his crazy mama. Her arms loop around you as you move into a slow dance, grinning up at her; “Ah, Si? And what are we celebrating?” “I got chosen! For the gallery!” Your feet leave the floor as the taller girl fully brings you into her arms, lifting you and spinning you around in glee, the squeal she lets out is full of childlike joy. “Of course you did! You are amazing!” she plops you back down and attacks your face with kisses. “I’m so proud of you Mi Amor and I am so excited to see your gallery. Oh I can get all dressed up and be your arm piece!” The thought brings you pure joy, the image of Alexia standing by your side, proudly, champagne in hand. Your Mami and Papi and Eli and Alba all present. Pabs in a little bow tie. “Si?” you ask, shyly, much more used to being by her side, “You’ll come? It is in 4 weeks. The 16th. You should be just starting on break.” A shadow of sadness passes her face at your insecurity, “Amor even if I was not on break I would not miss this for the world. If I had the world cup final I would call in sick. I will be there.  I will be the girl with the biggest bouquet of flowers in all of Barna with the lovesick look on her face.” It had been a whirlwind of a month, you had to put the finishing touches on your pieces. 
You have chosen to showcase your best landscapes. 
Scenes from the road to Valencia, The Square in Mollett, Beach Scenes in Barca, Snow capped mountains of Switzerland.
It was the story of your love for Alexia. Told through scenes only the two of you could understand the significance of. 
In the week leading up to the opening, you would spend late nights at the gallery, setting up lighting with Mapi and your Papi. Eli would walk around straightening frames on the walls. As you settled into bed each night, Alexia would open her arms and bring you into her warn embrace. 
You couldn’t wait to share your love story with the world. Alexia was having a bad day. It started bad. And continued to be bad. First, she woke up alone, which she hated. 
She recalled a kiss to the forehead and a whispered ‘I'll see you later’ before she'd dozed back off.  Then she realised that she had forgotten to charge her phone and was therefore late to training. Well. Not late for normal people. But late for Alexia. Then she forgot her socks and had to steal some of Irenes. She had a bad training session and Patri beat her in all their 1v1’s. And then the icing on the cake. She was dragged out from her gym session to do media which she hated. By the time she had finished the changing rooms were mostly empty, with only Pina and Patri left, scheming together in a corner.
“Ah now, Capi! Turn that frown upside down!” Pina teased her, “Ay, come out for a drink with me and Patri, the girls are all coming later, a bonding session before the break!”
And Alexia would usually say no, she wasn’t one for massive social events. But a drink sounded good. And it was the last day of training before the break.
Which is how she found herself 4 drinks in, deep in a booth in Patris favourite bar downtown. Most of the girls had joined them and laughter and chatter filled the roped off space. Something was missing and it took Alexia a moment to realise that there wasn’t a yapping in her ear.
“Ay, Pina, where are Mapi and Ingrid?” 
“They text the group, they had something on but they’re going to join us after. Ah
 here they are!” Pina turned as Patri dragged her to the dance floor. Alexia turned to where Pina had pointed and saw Ingrid and Mapi walking towards her. She smiled and raised her hand in a wave, as they got closer she took in their state of dress; “Ay, sexy mamas, it’s only a night out with the team. Why are you dressed so nice? Have you just come from your wedding?” Mapi looked at Alexia. But really, really looked at her. “What?” nothing. “Maria, what? Why are you looking at me like that? Ingrid?” she faced the usually kind woman but she wasn’t met with her usual smile, “What’s happening? Wh-ohmygod.” It hit Alexia like a freight train. Like 10 freight trains. She physically had to hold onto the chair to her side to remain standing.  “No, no, no, I didn’t, I couldn’t have done.” She starts to pat herself down and pulls her phone out, dead, still uncharged from the night before. She holds it up to Mapi, as evidence, evidence of what she doesn’t know. As though it gives her a lifeline. She knows it doesn’t. “Ingrid? Ingrid please tell me I didn’t miss it.” she asks, desperately. The tall girl looks away, as though she can’t even face what the captain had done. “Alexia.” The rage is barely contained in Mapis' voice. “I can’t even look at you.” Mapi turns to leave, but it's as though her anger wont let her; she turns again and spits out; “Do you think she needed a reminder on her phone to know when the Champions League final was? Do you think
 I can’t
 I have just come from her gallery opening. Her life's work. A life shared with you. And here you are. At a bar. Celebrating, what?  A game of football? A half season well done? Fuck off. Seriously. Fuck. Off” Ingrid grips her hand and tries to pull her away. All Alexia can do is stand there and take it, it's not a hundredth of what she deserves. “No Ingrid.” She pulls her hand free and pushes her finger into Alexia's chest. “You are a selfish monster. She thought you must be hurt. That's what she thought. She thought you were in a ditch somewhere. She almost cancelled the whole thing to run around hospitals to find you. But then Alba saw you on Patris instagram. And here you are. La Reina.” Mapi looks her up and down, pure disgust on her face. “Your Mamis held her as she sobbed. Alba redid her makeup. I would steer clear of her Papi for months if I were you. She is strong, and she gave a speech.” Alexia couldn’t breathe. You gave a speech? She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there.  “Please, Maria, stop. I can’t listen.” Alexia couldn’t take it. She moved Mapis' hand off her chest and ran to the door of the club. One thought in her mind. Get to you. Get to you. “It's too late Alexia.” Mapi shouts to her back. She ignores her. It can’t be. No It can't be. She jumps out of the uber onto the unfamiliar street. The lights to the gallery are off but she desperately tries the door regardless. Banging on it with her fist in frustration. She lets out a scream into the empty street. Peering through the windows she sees wall after wall of your work. Scenes she recognises from her life. Football pitches. Beaches, Mountains. The scene from your balcony in Mollet. It was all so beautiful. So carefully curated. And she wasn’t there. She takes off at a run. It’s not too late. Mapi is wrong. It’s not too late. She will die if it is too late. “Y/N!” she barged into the apartment. She must have ran 10 miles. “Y/N are you here?” She runs from room to room. But there is no one there. When that's established she plugs her phone into the charger on the breakfast bar and makes her way back through the apartment. She goes into the bedroom. No, please no. The wardrobe is open, your side is empty. She looks around. Your things are gone.
The kitchen remains largely unaffected. Though the picture of you and your parents no longer sits on the shelf. Your trainers are gone from the hall. Your favourite blanket from the couch. She looks at the walls. Anything you had painted. Gone. Alexia always insisted that your art be on the walls, in each home you shared together. “Why would I want strangers work on the walls, Mi Amor? When I have the best artist in the world here?” she would say, making you blush. She was addicted to that blush. She walks back into the hallway. One picture remains in pride of place. The picture you presented to her in her darkest moment. You would never take that away from her. It was a gift of pure adoration. All it does is make the stabbing pain in Alexia's heart worsen. She pushes open the door to your art studio. All that remains are paints and blank canvases. Except. In the middle of the room. The easel. A picture she had seen before, in its early stages. A hand. A hand holding a beautiful flower. But it had changed somehow. Pressure lines had appeared. The flower beginning to wilt under the force. It wasn’t your usual work. Alexia stood closer. Entranced. As she inspected the image she saw the light tease off still wet paint. You had touched this up recently. Her eyes search, frantically for anything of your last moments in the apartment when she catches it. Too light for anyone not searching for it. 11. Blended into skin at the wrist of the image. A tattoo. So lightly painted but it etched itself fiercely into Alexia's soul. This was her hand. This hand that was silently destructive, was hers.  She saw a post it note stuck to the leg of the easel and in your looping handwriting: ‘Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting that they won't use it.’
She brought her hand up to her mouth and let out an audible gasp. She runs into the kitchen and dry heaves over the sink. There, she watches as her tears splash into the marble. And as she watches. She takes note of a single paint droplet. Her tears joined it, creating the most heart crushing piece of work she had ever seen.
God. She used to get so angry at that paint in the sink.
It's been years, she thought, years since she found paint in the sink. How much did you have to lessen yourself in order to be with her?
She collapsed into a seated position. Back against the kitchen cabinet. And brought her knees to her chest. She sobbed. And sobbed. She was joined at one point by Pabs. She thought you’d taken him with you. But no, in a typical act of kindness you wouldn’t leave her alone in her despair.
His little bow tie still sat around his neck, skew-whiff, as he looked at his mama curiously. He licked her nose and she sobbed harder.
Weeks passed.
She doesn’t know how she got through those weeks. Thousands of missed calls. Hundreds of messages. Went unanswered.
Alexia didn’t hear from you. Her Mami and Alba had forgiven her after Alba had found her in a state and unable to look after herself but they made it clear they were on your side. Mapi wouldnt look at her. They wouldn't tell her where you were, they wouldn’t pass on any message.
She was too frightened to go to your Mami and Papa.
She hadn’t trained well for weeks, She arrived at training exhausted. Sleep would never find her. She was barely clinging on. Jona still insisted she play. She was La Reina.
And then she broke. And that's where Irene found her, after another match of lacklustre performance. In a back corridor of the stadium. Broken and staring at the wall in front of her.
A ghost of the woman she was. 
Her phone lay next to her. A message from you. A response to her apologies, her thoughts, the pain she had told you she felt for your failed relationship. 
Finally, Word you were alive. 
3 words in fact. “It’ll pass Alexia.”
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ramp-it-up · 3 months ago
Text
Knock You Down: III
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Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down. Bucky feeds you after the failure of date number 2.
This is a follow up to Part II
Word count: 2.3 K
Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: Okay I Lied! I added more words as I edited this and it ended up over 5K. So... there will be four parts to this fic which has posessed my soul. It will be posted Tuesday 10/15. Thank all of you for rocking with me on this one. This was in part inspired by Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run đŸ« , and partially inspired by an old song by some problematic people, lol. This is the result. As usual, I am Basil Exposition, so this is broken into parts.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, idiots in love, playful banter. Bucky and reader talk about sex, without talking about it. Or doing it. This is fluffy, yet angsty and I feel like you might not like it. Let me know if you do.
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
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Bucky Barnes was sitting at your table eating Thai food with you and you weren’t mad. He had ordered twice the amount you requested and damn you, you thought it was cute.
He was cute, casual in t-shirt, sweats and a ball cap. He looked as alluring as he did in a suit.
You were doomed.
Bucky didn't try to get into a deep discussion or get close to you. He just kept you company as you ate and poured you some of the best rosĂ© that you’d ever tasted. 
Food was your love language, and having good food did a lot for your mood. It also didn’t hurt that the delicious snack known as James Bucky Barnes was sitting across from you.
You respected his game.
But somehow you didn’t think it was a game. He’d been honest and straightforward with you. As much as a man in his position could be. Then you realized that he’d probably told you too much.
“What is it, Frumoasă? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Are you here to give me a last meal and then kill me?”
Bucky laughed loudly. He loved that you had the ability to make him do that. He loved

“That mind of yours, Y/N.” 
He shook his head at you.
“I’m not going to kill you. I want you safe. Even if you are not going to be mine.”
Your ears perked up at that phrase.
You already knew that Nico was parked outside of your place. You realized that he had been hanging around since Monday night. 
But what you were tripping over is that Bucky said that he wanted you to be his. 
You normally weren’t into possessiveness, but on James Barnes it was sexy as fuck.
After eating, it was only polite that you gave him a tour of your brownstone. He didn’t touch you, but the proximity of his body to yours at the door of your bedroom was heady stuff. You wanted him to
 
But you just took a deep breath and led him back down to your front door.
“Before you kick me out, I have something to say.”
Bucky had never felt the need to explain anything to anyone in a very long time. But you weren’t just anyone.
“I apologize for giving you a security detail without your knowledge. And then piling my friends on as well. They wanted to check you out, and I wanted to be sure that you were safe. Those gossip blog posts have heightened the risk for you.”
Your eyes widened.
“What posts?”
“We’ve been papped every time we’ve gone out. You didn’t know? I thought that’s why you asked what you did tonight.”
You groaned. 
“No, my friends must have seen them. What do they say?”
Bucky hesitated. Just a moment, and then responded to the look on your face. He ascertained that he was going to have to be straight with you consistently if he wanted to be in your company.
“Well
 Since we’ve been spotted together more than once, one particular site is claiming that we’re already in a relationship. They say you are my girlfriend.”
The softness of his voice when he said ‘girlfriend’ got to you.
Whoo boy.
You groaned, then laughed.
“That’s ridiculous, you’ve never even kissed me.”
Bucky laughed too.
“Ha ha. Yeah. It’s crazyyyyyy.” 
“Isn’t it though
?
You tried to look deep into his eyes, and he let you. You saw something that didn’t really surprise you. So you decided to just ask the question that was on your mind.
“James, what do you want out of this? This
”
You didn’t say what you were thinking, but he knew exactly what you were thinking when you didn’t finish your sentence.
Bucky looked off as if he were seeing something that wasn’t there yet, then back at you.
“I want
 you. I don’t want a one night stand. Or a situationship.”
He watched you carefully as he said the next words.
“I want, I need so much more from you.”
He took both of your hands into his as he leaned against the door frame.
“Listen. When you left earlier this evening, it knocked me on my face. You’ve got me thinking about a lot. Things like what our life might be like in the future.”
You were spiraling as he spoke. ‘Our life,’ ‘future.’ But you tried to remain calm.
“This was never supposed to happen to me. Y/N. But ever since you came into my office on Monday, my heart has been racing. I’ve got feelings for you. Strong ones.”
“Wow.”
It was all you could say. But when you thought about it, you felt the same exact way. You smiled at him and his nerves calmed. 
Just a bit.
“I have to admit that every morning when you text me, I get the biggest smile on my face. That wasn’t something I wanted or planned.”
You looked down at your fingers entwined with his. Yes. This could be a thing.
“It’s not exactly convenient to have these kinds of feelings this fast, James. Especially with all has happened.”
You looked up at him, and the hurt on your face destroyed him.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N. And I understand if you want to pump the breaks. I-”
“If you want me, then why haven’t you made a move?”
You interrupted him to ask about the next most important topic on your list.
Bucky recognized your insecurity.
“Don’t ever doubt the sexiness of your appeal, Frumoasă. I want to kiss you, and more to be honest. But I haven’t because I am so afraid of you.”
The way he looked at you caused a tingle of fear to unfurl in your belly.
Or was it desire? 
“You are afraid of me. I see. You’re a terrible kisser. That’s why you don’t go on second dates. I get it now.”
Bucky threw back his head and laughed.
“Maybe so.”
He gazed at your smile and the way your entire face was alight. Then he brought one of your hands to his lips.
His mouth on your palm enabled you to feel the salt and pepper whiskers on his face. And when he slid those lips to your wrist you moaned a little and squirmed and his eyelids fluttered closed as he inhaled the scent there.
“The skin here is so soft and fragrant, makes me wonder about
”
He stopped speaking but the silence spoke volumes. This man was having wild thoughts about you. Of that you were sure now. You wanted him everywhere.
Bucky brought your hand down from his face and rubbed your wrist with his thumb. The sensuality of the act made you feel unstable. You must have wobbled because his hand went down to your waist to steady you. But you just felt more dizzy.
He chuckled at your tell and saved you again.
“Can we sit?”
“Yeah.”
The couch was a bit dangerous, but the blood was leaving your head.
“Truth?”
“Always, James.”
“Okay. The truth is I don’t think you could handle it.”
You scoffed at the challenge.
“Come again?”
He smirked at you and you rolled your eyes and then he sobered up.
“If I kiss those lips, Y/N, I’m not going to abandon them in haste. I’m going to take my time. And I’m not being cocky, but I’m pretty sure things will progress rapidly. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to stop myself from giving you anything you ask for. Anything.”
The sensual promise was making you wet. You clenched your thighs together, causing Bucky to look down at them and lick his lips. When he looked back up, his eyes were dilated.
You knew that you could have him right now if you wanted. You took a deep breath to clear your head and Bucky’s eyes were on your lips.
This feeling was a drug.
“I’m already falling for you, but I know that I will crash into you. I can get intense about the things and the people that I care about. And you’re not ready for that, Frumoasă. Not at all.”
You pulled your hands away from his even though you wanted to jump his bones. 
“How do you know what I’m ready for, Mr. Barnes?”
Bucky smiled at you.
“You just said that your feelings for me aren’t convenient.”
You sucked your teeth at him and crossed your arms, turning your body away from him. Bucky was charmed by your pout, but a little mad at you closing yourself off from him. If you were his, he’d teach you a lesson about that. He’d open you up. 
But damn, he didn’t need to be so hard right now. You had an important day ahead, and he wasn’t going to rush this experience. He tried to calm down, but his voice betrayed him.
“You also haven’t asked me for a kiss. Although you did tell me that you wanted to fuck my voice...”
You dropped your head, embarrassed.
“Let’s not!”
He laughed, on cloud nine at your shyness with him. He’d teach you to be wanton, and have a grand time doing it.
“Frumoasă mea, you could request a kiss at any time. And I will always give you anything you ask of me. If you ask nicely of course.”
You cocked your head and Bucky bit his lip at how adorable you were.
“You want me to beg you for a kiss?”
Bucky took in the fire in your eyes and his own darkened.
“A kiss is not what I want you begging for.”
You coughed to cover a whimper as your mind went where Bucky wanted it to go. You couldn’t believe that your panties were soaked by someone you’d never even kissed.
“I just want you to know what you’re signing up for if we get physical.”
“From a kiss? It’s like that?”
You tried to be incredulous, but you believed every word that he said. You just wanted to verify.
“So let me get this straight. I kiss you, you rock my world, but I’m not ready for it?”
You’d never been so annoyed yet so turned on.
Bucky shrugged.
“Or you could be right. I’m a horrible kisser. A lousy lay. I’m just trying to stretch out the good times with you before you find that out and dump me.”
You shook your head at him, not wanting to laugh, but doing so anyway.
“...But, in order to find that out, I would have to kiss and lay with you.”
“Of course.”
“You know what
”
Bucky teasing you was the best kind of foreplay. You felt comfortable with him. And now you were intrigued.
“I can’t with you.”
“So we agree.”
“I hate you.”
“You don’t, but you’re cute when you’re angry.”
“Fuck you, James.”
“Is that a request?”
This banter was everything.
You got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen.
“I’m going get you something to drink. Do you drink tea? You seem a little thirsty.”
“As long as you drink with me. You seem a little parched yourself.”
Bucky called after you while watching your curves in your sweats as you flipped him off. He rubbed his hand on the ridge of his semi-hard dick. You were so damn hot. He concentrated on calming down while the kettle heated.
“Honey?”
“Yes, dear?”
You laughing was amazing.
You came back with a tray of herbal tea, milk, and honey and sat down again.
“I do want to talk to you about something else.”
He said it as he prepared his cup.
“Yes?” 
“I want to let you know, as much as I can, the plans for me to go legit. Can I have just a little bit of your time tonight? And then I will let you get some rest.”
Your heart melted and you smiled at him.
“Yeah. You got it.”
—-
You woke up at 3 am, Bucky’s steady heartbeat under your ear and his arms wrapped around you. You had fallen asleep after hours of talking about the future. You looked up at him and those lips were right there. 
You could just steal a kiss.
But you didn’t, just tried to ease out of his arms so you could go pee.
Bucky’s arms tightened around you and you couldn’t move. He was awake.
“What time is it?”
“A little after three.”
He let you go and sat up, looking around, then at you.
“I’m sorry, I talked your ear off and bored you to sleep.”
You shook your head. 
“I wasn’t bored. You made me feel safe.”
Bucky grinned.
“I’m glad that you feel safe with me. You are, you know.”
His morning voice was sensual heaven. You never wanted to kiss someone more in your life.
“And for your safety, I probably need to leave now.”
You wanted him; his body felt good against yours. But he was right. You chuckled and then led him to your door.
“Okay.”
At the door, Bucky turned and looked down at you. He was thoughtful.
“Do you have plans for Sunday?”
“No, why?”
“I wanted to ask you on date number three Saturday night.”
You two stared at each other for a beat before he continued.
“How do you feel about a late dinner at my place after the exhibition? Since you don’t have to get up early the next day.”
You took in his meaning, but you didn’t address it.
“Are you trying to feed me, James?”
His gaze got intense. You got wet again, realizing the double meaning. 
“You have no idea, Frumoasă.”
Holy shit. He caught it too. You gulped.
“Okay. Sounds
 intriguing.”
Bucky looked like a little boy on Christmas morning.
“I’ll stop by the center around midday, then go shopping for our meal. Nico will bring you by. About 8?”
“It’s a date.”
You two grinned at each other like idiots. Then he opened your door to leave.
“James.”
“Yes, Frumoasă?”
“Can I have a kiss?”
“Yes.”
He pulled you into his arms and kissed you on the forehead. It was perfect, and a little bit like a promise.
Then he left, straight into the early morning fog, waving at Nico as he got into a sleek black sports car, blew a kiss at you, and then pulled away.
That felt like an escape from the inevitable.
To both him and to you.
——
As always, let me knowww! ❀
Part IV Here
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songmingisthighs · 22 days ago
Text
Pitiful, You’re Pitiful
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ch. vii
group : ateez
pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader
genre : angst, mature
word count : 3.4 k
warning : mentions of miscarraige, negative depiction of wooyoung, cheating
a/n : i finally got over my writer's block for this series.
a/a/n : happy new year
buy me coffee ?
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For the first time in weeks, you woke up feeling better, lighter even.
It wasn't just because for the first time in a while, you had slept on a real bed instead of your couch.
It was Dayoung's idea which surprised you. She had come to you a couple of nights prior, avoiding your eyes and blushing which made you almost equally nervous because she seemed like she was going to confess to a crime. It was Woohyun who told you that Dayoung had suggested for you three to sleep together in Woohyun's room (because you wouldn't want to sleep in a teenage girl's room filled with posters of whichever band she was fawning over staring at you at the dead of night and her dirty laundry strewn everywhere like a modern art installation) where she had taken her and Woohyun's mattresses, put them together in a way you three could be comfortable.
To say that you were beyond touched was an understatement but knowing that it was your daughter, you knew you needed to play it cool or else she wouldn't want to take credit. So while you wanted to sob while hugging your daughter, you simply nudged her shoulder and made a lame joke to which she rolled her eyes and called you a nerd but didn't bother to hide her amused smile.
For the first time ever, you slept through the night between your children; Woohyun was firmly attached to your side with his limbs wrapped around your body and Dayoung facing the other side but she kept her body close to you. Even though you were having such a rough time with your husband, you felt somewhat happy that your children were getting close to you.
On top of that, you were somewhat amused that Wooyoung had been showing considerable shame through the whole ordeal. He had the decency to skulk around whenever he saw you and took care of himself and his own needs without bothering you. Sure, you still include his portion when you cook and you still urge your children to spend time with their father (no matter how reluctant Dayoung was), but it was as if you both were separated.
It was hard living as such because you still loved Wooyoung no matter his mistake. You knew you could never tell any one of your friends about your feelings because they would remind you how he cheated on you with his own employee, how he used your miscarriage against you, and how he was just an overall asshole, completely skipping over the fact that you had spent almost two decades together, completely skipping over how you two shared so much love for each other, completely skipping over your history, and completely skipping over the fact that the two of you were bound together forever through your children. To say that you should lose all the love you have had and still have for your husband is to say that you should turn your back on the pieces of your husband in your children. It was to say that you should not find joy in the way Woohyun cackles like his dad or you should not be touched by the way Dayoung show her love and care by doing something for someone. Your friends, especially your girlfriends would not understand your predicament and they never will.
That's why you went to the one person you know might.
"Thanks for sparing your time for me," you smiled sheepishly at Yunho who chuckled as he sat himself down with his cup of coffee. "Hey, you're saving me from having to deal with the academy's internal business so I should thank you," he pointed out.
You had a feeling that one of the things he meant was the situation you created, the possible internal People investigation and possibly Harin trying to fight the academy back because as promised, her reputation was absolutely tarnished. Not to mention Wooyoung being put on leave for his injured back and then being put on administrative leave for his inappropriate action must have ruined their internal scheduling. Along with the entire mood of the academy, considerably.
"How are things? How are the guys there?" You asked after taking a sip of your peach tea. Yunho pursed his lips, mulling over how to share the discourse between the friend group. How was he supposed to tell you that everyone was split by their own convictions; Hongjoong who only focused on the operations of the business, Seonghwa who was worried about what was right after facing you himself, Yunho who was obviously on your side, Yeosang who felt conflicted and in disbelief over his friend's action, San who felt completely betrayed as a man of big moral and feelings, Mingi who kept making comparisons of what he would and wouldn't do if he was Wooyoung like a show of moral superiority, and Jongho who was just tired of the drama and wanted the workplace to return to its normalcy without all the cheating.
"The guys are focused on their own things, we can't seem to meet up a lot outside of work these days," Yunho smiled, hoping that it would satisfy your curiosity. Seeing as to how you simply nodded and didn't ask any follow-up questions, Yunho felt a bit glad. Or, he did felt glad until you suddenly cleared your throat and the aura shifted to a more serious one. "I actually called you because I have something to talk about and I couldn't think of anyone other than you to talk to." Yunho was quite surprised because you two had never gotten to a level of friendship where you would talk about secrets or break big news to each other. To be quite frank, the two of you had never really shared anything personal, ever. You two were connected through Wooyoung and neither one of you had initiated a more platonically intimate relationship. Heck, you both don't even have each other's numbers saved and you had to look for it from the group chat Seonghwa made for Hongjoong's surprise birthday party two years ago. Yunho loved you as his friend's wife and he had grown considerable admiration for you for supporting Wooyoung all these years which was why Wooyoung's betrayal of you hit him so hard.
With an eyebrow raised, Yunho stared at you, trying to see whether he should brace himself for bad news or good news. The two of you sat slightly tense, facing each other while the rest of the cafe went on, oblivious to your situation.
"I'm pregnant."
Silence.
The sound of the coffee machine whirring and steam hissing along with other customers that was so prominent suddenly died down in Yunho's ears and he couldn't help but stare at you with wide eyes and jaw hanging open. His brain was trying so hard to process your words, repeating what you said over and over again as if it was something hard to comprehend but it isn't, it absolutely isn't.
"Hello?" You waved a hand in front of Yunho, trying to break his trance, "Yunho, did you hear me?"
Yunho seem to broke out of his trance once you called his name with a shake of his head. When your words finally sunk in, Yunho gasped and rushed out of his chair to hug you, taking you completely by surprise. "Oh my God, congratulations, (y/n)! Your third child, finally!" he shakily exhaled out of excitement. His energy rubbed off on you because at his congratulatory sentiment, you chuckled and patted him on the back, "Thank you so much, Yunho, I truly appreciate it."
Once Yunho got back to his seat, another realization dawned on him. "Wait, when did this happen? With what's going on with you and Wooyoung, how is this gonna work?" he asked, genuinely concerned. His questions didn't catch you by surprise as it was also something you had been thinking about a lot recently. "If you're asking me when I last slept with Wooyoung, I will actually buy a bagel and smack you with it," Yunho couldn't help but chuckle at your feistiness, "But... About how this is going to work with me and Wooyoung... I actually don't know. Hell, even if we don't put the baby in question, I don't know how things are going to be like with Wooyoung," you sighed. Yunho pursed his lips, thinking, "Well, have you thought about it before? Are you still going to stay with him?" Had someone else asked that question, you would have taken somewhat of an offence because the question would have most definitely come from a place of judgment, like as if you don't know that divorce is an option and that they would bring up some spiel about women empowerment, girl power, and equality as if those had anything to do with your situation as if there was only you and he in the equation and not your two children. But you know Yunho meant well and his question came out of curiosity and worry. "Honestly, I don't think I want to leave Wooyoung over this," you said, voice low and eyes glued to your intertwined fingers as if ashamed or scared that Yunho would react badly to your answer.
Thankfully, Yunho nodded at your answer knowingly and in full understanding, "Because you two had been together for so long and had been in love for so long that you can't imagine a life without him." Your head snapped up and almost immediately, a huge wave of relief washed over you, "Exactly. I... I can't just leave him, he's my husband for goodness sake, to me, that means something because when I said my wedding vows, I really meant it!" "So, you still uphold the part where you said 'through snotty nose and cheesy prose, I'll love you and your stubby toes'?" Yunho teased, making you roll your eyes, "Of course, you'd remember the part that mentioned toes. You're not beating your feetish allegations here, Yunho," you pointed back teasingly, causing Yunho to laugh.
When his laughter died down, he went back to being serious but still maintaining casualness as to not stress you out. "But really, have you... Tried imagining a life without him?"
At that, you closed your eyes and released a long exhale. "I see... Myself doing my normal routine; waking up, preparing breakfast, getting the kids up. This, this is not my current house, this is a small, cozy apartment somewhere in a neighbourhood that's not too packed and is very kid-friendly. It's cute, I can tell I decorate it but the kids have their things everywhere; Woohyun has his drawings on the fridge, and Dayoung has her things strewn on the couch. I see the kids, Dayoung and Woohyun running out of their rooms, heading straight for the food and,,, and... and there he is, our new baby in his playpen. He looked around one, with the brightest smile and gosh, he has Wooyoung's mole under his eye, a real copy of him and I love him so much. I see all this... Togetherness but I feel incomplete, like something is missing. There is so much happiness but my smile never seems to reach my eyes. I feel... Empty inside. Then... The bell rang. I open the door and I see Wooyoung, standing alone. He looked... Tired. He usually wear sharp, clean outfits but this time he's just wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants and he look... Sad. Like me. He came in and the kids greeted him, saying that they missed him and two five days was too long. Wooyoung went to play with the baby and I felt... Weird. I wanted to talk to him, I wanted to ask how he was doing and why he looked so... Fragile. But instead, I hid in the kitchen, pretending to be so occupied by the dishes. The kids then came out with their bags, asking me to not forget the things that needed tending over the weekend. The more they spoke about what they had planned with Wooyoung for the weekend, the harder it was for me to breathe. There's this... Nagging thought in my head that while the baby can't go with them now, he's going to be able to go with them soon to stay at Wooyoung's and it hurts to think that I would be spending days without my children, I would be missing days I could spend with them until they grow up and have their own lives. I imagine... It would be even harder for Wooyoung because he'd have even fewer days with them than I do and it's sad. It's so, so sad. I could see Wooyoung looking at me and vice versa. There is so much emotion, so many things unsaid. But with the things that happened, the decisions we took..." You slowly opened your eyes and felt your eyes sting, "And I don't want there to be such pain in my family."
Seeing you cry made Yunho's heart clench but he knew that his capabilities to help you were limited so he rushed to the cashier with a stack of tissue and offered it to you, making you chuckle at the amount he brought. "Sorry, I... I didn't mean to cry," you shakily said, cheeks burning out of embarrassment. Yunho immediately shook his head, "No, this is nothing compared to Mingi bawling because his favourite anime was ending," he scoffed. Knowing how passionate Mingi was with his anime, you knew how bad his crying must have been and you couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of a 6 ft man needing to be comforted like a baby in public.
Once you wiped all the tears and snot away, Yunho opened his mouth again, "I don't mean to make this seem so negative nor am I steering you into a certain direction or opinion, I just want to cover all the bases," you nodded in understanding, "Have you considered that it might not be that bad? I've seen other people who were better off being divorced and their kids seem all the better for it." To that, you couldn't help but smile softly, "Wooyoung and I are not like other people, our family was never like other people's."
Hearing you still felt so strongly about Wooyoung despite everything, brought a feeling of newfound respect in Yunho for you. A lot of people had been talking in the academy, people who were not in their inner circle that the reason why Wooyoung was not back to work yet was because you had left him and with what people know, they found entertainment it, deeming that he deserved to be left. While they tried their best to shut the conversation down, they couldn't help but have their opinion slightly swayed, skewed in your favour but leaning more towards condemning their own friend due to his action. They started putting themselves in your shoes, thinking what they would do had they been in your situation, had they been betrayed the way you had been. All of them imagined, and thought, and analyzed, and guessed, but here you were, the actual person who was experiencing the actual event, showing more humanity than anyone else ever could.
"I don't really talk about this, but my family has a past with cheating and while everyone acted like it was no big thing, I reacted rather poorly. I was one of those people who claimed that anyone who had been cheated should just leave their partner who cheated, I was rather adamant and I voiced my opinion rather obnoxiously. Because of that, I received a harsh talking to because my opinion, my belief was hurting the person who actually had to endure the pain. I was told that divorce should be plan zzz because marriage is a TON of work and people have the right to not want to do a lot of work but they should not get married. I was told that no one can come into marriage thinking "I could just get a divorce" because then your subconscious is already tainted and you will end up working your marriage towards a divorce. I was told that hard work happens every day in a marriage, not just when you go through hard things. When I got married, I learned what that actually meant because one day I was all lovey-dovey and so in love and I couldn't get enough of Wooyoung and the next, I wanted to strangle him just because he was breathing wrong when he was sleeping. Not to mention the kids, you know, people think that Woohyun is an angel, but he has his demons and Dayoung, as much as she's a handful, has her sweet moments too. I worked so hard for my marriage, my family. So in conclusion, I am... Painfully aware of what Wooyoung did and how it affected me and I don't think I can forgive him now but maybe it will happen... When or if I start working hard towards it. But I will never forget."
"So... You're really staying with him?" Yunho asked. You weren't sure what to answer because honestly, you're aware that any sane person with any self-respect who knew they could never forget what their partner did would have run far far away and started anew, those with or without children. So why couldn't you? Instead, you shrugged at Yunho, "I don't know, I'll have to see how we're going to work through this," you stated. "And... The baby?" "I'm planning on going to the hospital today to get the baby checked out. With what has been going on, I haven't had the time for a check-up since the last time." Yunho furrowed his eyebrows at your statement, "Last time? When was 'last time'?" "Remember the first time we found out Wooyoung was cheating on me? When he first hurt his back and Harin pretended to be his wife?"
For the second time that day, Yunho felt his jaw hang open in surprise. "You've known you were pregnant for so long and you didn't tell anyone!?" he screeched. "Well, I didn't know what to say or who to tell! It wasn't like the moment was right, I was stressed, under a lot of pressure, and I had now-things to worry about and deal with!" you defended.
Yunho slumped on his chair and huffed. "Well... When are you planning on telling Wooyoung about the baby? Do you need help or company?" he offered. You smiled and shrugged, "I'm planning on telling him with the ultrasound of the baby but I have to deal with getting Dayoung and Woohyun from the academy so it's-" "Hey, I can help get them!" Yunho said. You raised an eyebrow at him, "What?" "Yeah, yeah! I totally can help you get Dayoung and Woohyun from the academy! I'm going back there after this anyways, so it's perfect!" The way he got excited at the prospect of helping you was endearing and it helped made you feel... Seen.
"No, no, Yunho, I can't let you do that because Woohyun can be a handful and Dayoung finishes her classes an hour after Woohyun so you're gonna have to entertain Woohyun for a bit so-" "Which will be fine since I promised to teach him some new games!"
It was clear that Yunho was trying so hard to be useful. Not that usually he isn't, but you really didn't want to bother him.
"I don't know..." You sighed.
Yunho leaned on the table, looking into your eyes, "I can assure you that I can do this and I want to help. Please? So you'll have one thing less to worry about."
How could you say no when he was being so nice?
With a final sigh, you nodded. "Fine, but once any of them give you trouble-" "I'll send them to you in a bag," Yunho assured, saluting you. You rolled your eyes at him, "Bags might not be enough to contain them," you teased, causing Yunho to chuckle.
You said your goodbyes to each other, hugging in front of the cafe while thanking each other. You, because Yunho spared his time to talk, and Yunho, because you shared some very personal information and trusted him.
When you got into your car, you leaned back and closed your eyes as you waited for the engine to properly turn on. Whilst waiting, you felt your phone vibrate and you noticed it was a message from Wooyoung.
'Hey, I know you're out right now but I think we need to talk when you come back.'
"That makes two of us, bud," you scoffed before you tossed your phone to the passenger seat. Huffing one last time, you looked down at your stomach and smiled a little.
"Let's go give your daddy the heart attack he's due."
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tinydefector · 3 months ago
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Marine Centre 9 - Merformers
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: none
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Have the collection of the Oceanides I have art finished of
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After the incident with Big Blue and Angelfish they had distanced themself slightly, more out of embarrassment over anything,  the felt bad for Big blue they had been pestering the crap out of him and he had been avoiding them due to ‘that’.
They felt stupid more than anything, it was getting close to a lot of animal's breeding season so it was only expected the oceanides would be going into season as well. They couldn't blame him for avoiding them, if the roles were reversed they would have been mortified. 
They are snapped out of their thoughts as the small group of kids walk towards the entrance of the centre. a smile crosses their lips as they see their little cousin bouncing towards them. “Hey kiddo, woah look how tall you have gotten!” They laugh while ruffling their hair. 
“Mum and Dad said you asked if I wanted to visit!, woah are those the Mermaids you work with! They are so pretty!” They exclaim in excitement as they move to rest on the jetty. The three other kids move closer to watch as well. 
"Look, it's coming over! Can it understand us?" one boy called. 
A girl squealed as Angelfish swam near, clearly awestruck. "Mum, its staring! I think it wants to say hi!" As she waves slightly at him. 
"Hello fishy! My name's Jill. What's yours?"
Angelfish chirped softly, tilting his head at the odd, high-pitched sounds. Their enthusiasm, like playful otters, was infectious. He trilled in greeting, watching with amusement as Jill gasped.
"He talked to me! Did you hear?" 
Her brother laughed. "Silly, it doesn't have a name or talk. It just makes noise like a dolphin." 
Jill pouted stubbornly as Angelfish whistled quietly, hoping she'd understand he was friendly.
They shake their head softly at the kids. "Alright everyone. These beautiful beings are Oceanides. Or as I'm sure you all call them Mermaids, merfolk." They explain to the children. "All of them here have names. This sweet boy here is Angelfish. And if you're really good some of the others might come over to say hi" they hum while motioning to Angelfish. As they sit down ushering for the kids to move closer. 
The children gasped in awe, gathering around eagerly as Quin sat with them to tell more. "Angelfish is curious about you all too," she said with a smile at the sweet oceanide. "He knows 'hi' and can understand something. Can any of you say hello to him nicely?"
 Two brave kids leaned forward, waving. "Hi Angelfish!" 
He chirped happily in response, floating closer as he twirls and shoes off in delight. "He's so cool!" exclaimed a boy. "Can he really talk?"
"Well, not quite like us," Quin explained. "But Angelfish and his pod use special whistles and clicks to communicate. They can recognize each other, share danger signals and even tell stories that way. It's amazing!"
"They sing a lot, Angelfish here loves cuddles but you have to remember they are wild creatures and not all of the mers are the same. We have a big one here who doesn't really like people. His name is The Meg but i call him Big man, but then we have Angelfish, Cherry and Babybee who do very much like people" they explain as Bluestreak presses his head into their lap.
The children listened, enthralled, "Angelfish seems to really like you," noted a boy. They smiled, stroking Angelfish’s frilled head where it rested against their leg. "I've spent time getting to know them all. Angelfish was the first to become cuddly towards me” 
Jill raised her hand eagerly. "What's Babybee like?" "Oh, he's the sweetest little thing, so curious and playful! Not much bigger than you. Just don't squeeze too tight if you're lucky enough to meet him." 
Questions kept flowing as the youngsters soaked up every detail. "Quin would you mind taking them to meet the Turtles and show them the Ray's?" They ask with a smile as they watch the group of kids. Their little cousin looked excitedly to spend time with them away from the other group.
"Of course!" Quin replied warmly. Gaining the children's attention, she spoke with kind enthusiasm. "Who would like to learn more about our shelled friends and the stingrays we have here?" 
A chorus of raised hands answered, swarming Quin as they stood. 
Quin grinned at their eager faces, leading the way. "Now everyone listen closely please no loud noises or quick moves that might startle. The sea life once we head inside"
As the other kids and their parents walk away with Quin, their little cousin stays with them, moving to sit beside them on the jetty. "Would you like to meet someone very special to me kiddo?" They ask giving their little cousin a slight nudge with their elbow. 
The kid nods eagerly, bright eyes alight with curiosity. "Yeah! Who is it?" Their feet kick softly against the worn wooden slats, "Is it one of the Mermaids? Do you think they'll let me touch their tail?" They inquire while watching the oceanides.
"I'm sure you can if they let you, but just wait" they make a loud whistle which catches the oceanides attention but it's a quick little blur of yellow and black that comes darting towards the jetty, cooing and calling. "Yes, yes hello bubba!" They laugh as the pup nearly climbs up onto them. Their cousin gasps in delight as the sunny blur of scales comes clicking and chirping over the water. "A puppy! No, a Guppy!" 
Small hands reach out eagerly to greet the bouncing bundle of yellow and black with a careful pat and giggle. Up close, its skin gleams so smooth, like the jewels piled in tidepools but alive with vibrant colours. Their wide eyes drink in every shimmering detail. The flicking fins, bright little face, bubbly noises of joy. "Omg! He's so cute. What's his name?" 
" This is BabyBee, he's the only pup we have here, remember when I had to look after a really sick baby mer, well this was him. He's rather attached to me now" they chuckle. Hoisting him closer so that their little cousin could meet him. "Say hi Baby" they coo softly to the pup. 
The kid grins wide, gently waving hello. "Hi BabyBee! I'm so glad you're all better now. Thank you for coming to visit us." They gently pat his shimmering skin, marvelling at the silken texture. But even more amazing were the strange sounds he made.
"Bubba hi! You nice," Babybee chirps back, nuzzling their palm for scritches. His caretaker hugging him sends joy bubbling up his frame. They chuckle watching their little cousins face in shock hearing bumblebee talk. "Shhh, you're the first person outside of me to hear him talk. Don't want a lot of people knowing. " they whisper. As Babybee purrs and plays with their fingers.
Quickly pressing a finger to smiling lips, they nod eagerly. "It's our secret, I promise!" they whisper back. Gently wiggling fingers to play peek-a-boo. Bee wiggles his fins and frills giggling as he plays. His joyful chirps and trills make them smile in delight over being so taken with someone to play with. 
"He's the reason I asked your mum if you wanted to come stay with me for the weekend. Once the tours over with the other people I'll take you to the beach. You can come play with him and meet the others" they explain. Their cousin's eyes light up brighter than the midday sun. "Really?! I get to come here and play with Babybee all weekend?"  
"Thank you thank you! It's the best present ever!"
"Anytime kiddo" they give a partial hug to them. "All right bubba, you gonna go back in, I'll be back later" they coo to the pup as they settle him back into the water.
_______________________
From his perch on the rocks, Megatron watches the unusual exchange with contemplative interest. He hadn't ever seen the caretaker with spawn of their own, but to see how close this small one was with them he could only suspect.
Meanwhile, chatter rises high as ever among the gathering pods. "Didja see that?" Skywarp titters eagerly. "They are introducing their own kin to Bumblebee!" 
Ever-hopeful Bluestreak chirps with joy. "Just think of all the fun those bitlits will have playing! Don't that just warm your frills, Ratch'?.  Bumblebee has a playmate now"
Ratchet hums softly, as Bumblebee trills a farewell before darting back to play, Bumblebee chirps and whistles eagerly, spiralling around the gathering pods with buoyant glee. 
"Didja hear dat, didja hear? De bitlit coming to play wif me!" His words are quick and jumbled in his delight. “I saw pup, making new friends are you” Ratchet coos while checking the bitlet 
Rodimus rumbles a muted warning to his peers. As they swam closer, frills flared showing off the colours "Easy now, don't scare our soft-skins with your antics." 
But Sideswipe whistles an impish laugh, spiralling through the water with flared colours on proud display. "Aw, come on Roddy! Let'em see what they're missing!"
Bluestreak chirps from the jetty, a webbed hand resting on their leg as he coos up at them again. He whines softly before attempting to mimic one of their words again. “Bu..bubba?” He calls out his big black and blue eyes staring up at them pleadingly. 
Ever eager to one-up his peers, Sunstreaker slowly swims his way closer. He lets out a small growl at Bluestreak only for the soft skin to growl back at him. A smug look crosses his face as he lets out a pleased rumble.
Meanwhile, Jazz and Mirage watch in amusement. “You'd think if they were that desperate they'd go looking for another walker” Mirage states and Jazz just shakes his head in amusement. “five shells Sunstreaker is the one who woos them” Jazz hums to the other. 
Arcee watches before finally deciding she was going to give It a shot. “Move out of the way Guppies” she calls, pulling herself up onto the jetty partially as she flares her frills and calls out in a little melody at the softone even as they begin to walk away. It earns a look from them and it makes her feel rather smug. 
“Eat my tail you lot” she sparks at the boys.
__________
Later 
Laughter echoes across the sand as Their cousin runs across the sand towards the water. giggling wildly, as they move up onto the rockpools that line the coast. 
Bee zips towards shore with gleeful whistles. Breaking the waves as a bubbly blur of yellow and black scales. "Bubba! Bubba, here! Play now, yay!" He trills, wriggling onto the rocks and into the pools to follow. 
Small hands pat his slick hide with utmost care and delight. "Hi Babybee! I'm so happy to see you again. Did you have fun while I was gone?" Together they tumble into the foamy surf that washes into the shallow area of the rock pools, the pup chattering eagerly. "Don't leave the rock pools please, you two can play in the water but don't leave my sight" they state in a stern voice.
Babybee chirps obediently, while their little cousin nods eagerly at them. "We'll be good, we promise!" they call, small hands clasped around smooth yellow-black scales. Together pup and child splash and play among the glittering tidepools teeming with hidden worlds. Shrimp dart from probing fingers, anemones bloom neon against stones. 
Babybee chatters happily, chasing crabs and crunching down on them when he catches one, holding out some to his new friend who declines the crustacean. but trading shells and stones that they find as they giggle and play together. 
They move to sit with their feet handling into the water of the pool, eyes watching them cautiously as they settle into the shallows chasing little fish and crabs. It was peaceful even as the oceanides began pulling themselves out of the water to watch in delight to see the pup having a playmate. 
The Megs massive silhouette glides unseen amidst the dark swells, scarlet gaze fixed upon the two playing in the water. Within the pools, Bee chitters happily as he snaps at darting fish, kicking up frothy swirls for his small companion to squeal and giggle over. 
They feel the large presence of Oceanide behind them, tilting their head back slightly before smiling at the large Mer. " Hey Big man, you want a cuddle?" They coo softly as he makes himself comfortable on the rocks, chin resting against his arms as he watches the two younglings play. 
He regards them as they lean against his bulk with a considering hum. His rumble carries distant notes of laughter. Gently his serrated tail curls to grant shelter from the sea breeze. Bee's little trills echo the puppy's pure joy, swimming circles around their companion. 
They go quiet for a moment as they lean against him as they watch the two. "I'm sorry I couldn't save your pup, I keep thinking back to what I could have done." They mutter softly. "It should be your pup out there playing with Bee". 
 They nearly gasp as he moves, bright scarlet eyes locked on theirs as he brings his forehead to rest against theirs. With great care he nuzzles their brow, letting a soft whine leave his throat.
They hold onto him as they both continue to watch Bee and their little cousin. The Meg remains a watchful, silent guardian. 
______________________
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morgana-larkin · 4 months ago
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The more Melissa schemmenti fics the better . Could you please please please write one were Melissa does the leaning on the wall with the arm thing . Like the jock /cheerleader pose in the hallway . But with reader . I love that Melissa is bad girl with milf vibes .
So sorry that this took way longer than I thought it would. And I agree with you, the more Mel fics the better. I also put some inspiration from a fan art of Mel eating reader out with her glasses on and hair up and the creator asks for a fic about it and I honestly forgot their name. If you can let me know in the comment section so I can tag them in this then it would be appreciated! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!
On another note: I can’t believe that season 4 starts tomorrow and there’s a new episode of Agatha All Along! #spoiled
Another note: it was @dashbag-art that made the fan art of Mel eating someone out.
What She Wants
Warnings: bad girl Mel, smut, small praise kink
Words: 2.8k
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You’re walking down the hallway, collecting late book returns from students. You’re on your second year of being the school librarian and you’re loving it so far. You just collected a few books from Janine’s kids and now you’re on to Melissa’s.
“Alright my little eagles, who can tell me wh-” Melissa says and then you knock on her wide open door. Melissa looks and sees you and she instantly smiles. “Hello Y/n.” She says and you blush slightly.
“Hi Ms. Schemmenti, I need to talk to a few students in your class.” You tell her and she nods.
“By all means, who do you need?” She asks.
“Let’s see.” You say and look at your list. “Milly, Dominic and Avery.” You say and the 3 students sit up and walk out the door.
Melissa watches you for a second before she goes back to her lesson. She watched you while you did your first year here and she’s been watching you more closely since you came back and started your second year a couple months ago. You talk to the 3 students and then they return to their desks while Melissa continues the lesson. Melissa gives you a smile that you return before you go to the 3rd graders.
The next period starts and you have to go back to the library to see who is where this period and return the books that you were able to get, back to their place. About 20 minutes into the new period, you’re walking to a 4th grade classroom when someone stops you.
“Hey hon.” You see Melissa say and she traps you against the wall and she’s leaning on her arm that’s on the wall.
“Oh h-hi Melissa.” You stutter out and she smiles at you, you’re holding the couple books you have close to your chest.
“Do I make you nervous?” She says and leans in closer to you.
“A-a little bit.” You say to her and she smirks.
“And why is that?” She asks, a little cocky.
You have to admit that you didn’t think this is where the day would go. You’ve been attracted to Melissa since day 1 but never went for it from the things some other teachers have told you. They warned you to stay away from her as she doesn’t always tolerate people and knows what to do to get what she wants. They also told you that she knows several guys all around the city in various fields of work so be cautious. Now she’s close to you and asking why you’re nervous around her and you don’t know what to say.
On Melissa’s end is a bit different, she can probably guess that other teachers told you a few things about her. She found you cute since you started but she kept her distance since you were new. Now you came back for another year and she knows she wants you. She’s having fun watching you squirm a bit right now for an answer. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and you freeze.
“Why do I make you nervous hon?” She asks again and you look up and catch her eyes and you freeze again. She had beautiful green eyes that go perfect with her beautiful face and gorgeous ginger locks.
You start looking for a way out and notice that she’s trapped you pretty good as she’s gotten closer and there’s no one in the halls to help you.
“I-I
um.” You stutter and Melissa tilts her head a bit, still smiling.
“You’re adorable when you don’t know what to say. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that the other teachers warned you about me when you started?” She asks and you nod slightly. She hums as she thinks of what to say next now that she’s got you trapped. You take a second to look at her and see that she’s wearing the leather jacket you love on her as well as a pink low cut top and see a good amount of her cleavage. Melissa of course notices you staring at her chest and smirks. “My eyes are up here hon.” She tells you as she tilts your chin up with her free hand. She sees your eyes widen as you got caught and smiles at you. “I don’t mind you looking but not at school, we have to stay professional.” She tells you as she leans into your ear. “Come to my place after school and you can look all you want.” She tells you and then pulls back. You’re looking at her like a deer in the headlights and frozen in place. “Is that ok with you hon?” She asks and you nod your head, unable to form words. Melissa tucks another loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Good girl.” She says and then leaves.
You hear her heels clicking against the floor and you take a few breaths. What the fuck just happened and what did you agree too? You think and you look at Melissa’s retreating form. You see a slight sway in her hips and can’t help but look at her ass. The other teachers warned you about her and now you agreed to go to her house after school today. Are you very fucked right now? You continue to collect the books and talk to students about late books right until the end of the day. When you’re packing up to go home you get a text from an unknown number.
Unknown number: Hey hon, it’s Melissa. Here’s my address
You read and then get another text with an address.
You: How did you get my number?
Melissa: I know a guy
It’s all she says and then a wave of nerves hits you. In truth, Melissa went to Ava for your number and Ava gave it to her without much thought.
You pull up the driveway of Melissa’s house and walk up to the door. You’re about to knock when you glance down and see the ‘go away’ welcome mat and you hesitate. You then decide to fuck it and knock. Melissa opens the door a few seconds later and smiles when she sees you.
“Hey hon, come on in.” She tells you and steps aside to let you in. “Dinner is in the oven and it’ll be ready in about 10 minutes.” She says as she begins to lead you to her kitchen. “Want some wine while we wait?” She asks you and looks back and sees you looking at her pictures. “Those are just some family pictures.” She tells you a little smile makes its way to your face.
“You have a beautiful family.” You say and she smiles. “Some wine would be nice.” You tell her as she leads you into her kitchen. She pours a glass for you and hands it to you before she pours one for herself. She can see you still nervous even after a few sips of wine so she walks up behind you, spins you around and traps you between her and her counter.
“There’s no need to be nervous around me hon. I’m not going to do anything to you.” She tells you as your eyes are wide and looking directly at her. You don’t answer so she talks again. “What has been said about me that’s got you so nervous?” She asks you and you gulp. “Come on, be a good girl and tell me.” She says and you have to admit that those words affected you and you tell her.
“They warned me to-to be cautious around you as you know several guys in various fields and you know how to get what you want.” You tell her and she hums.
“Well like I said before.” She starts and starts trailing a finger on your wrist up to your shoulder. “I’m not going to do anything to you.” She tells you. “Unless you want me too.” She adds and you glance down and see her outfit better. She changed into a green tank top with a jean sweater, with her hair up, and that tank top doesn’t leave much to the imagination. “You can look all you want.” She tells you as she catches you looking at her chest again. She then places a hand on your hip and moves it up your side, making you squirm a bit. “I know you have a crush on me, and I do want you as well.” She says and your jaw drops. She then leans over to your ear. “I want to claim you as my own.” She whispers in your ear and pulls back to see your eyes turn black. She smiles and leans to your lips until hers meet yours and she starts kissing you and you don’t stop her, in fact you kiss her back.
She smiles into the kiss, knowing she got you. She wanted you and like always she got what she wanted. The other teachers were right about that, she gets what she wants and knows several guys who can help make it happen. She thought it would take longer to get you but then she realised that you already have a crush on her.
She trails her fingers to the hem of your shirt and pulls it up when you don’t stop her. She takes your shirt off and then puts her hands on your bra while still kissing you. She then goes to your back and unclips your bra before yanking it off. She immediately attaches her mouth to a nipple and you gasp and put your hands in her hair. She brings her hands to your thighs and wraps her arms around them before hoisting you up onto the counter. She goes and kisses your neck and starts sucking on it, marking what’s hers. While kissing your neck, she brings her hand over to your centre and starts circling it over your underwear. You’re a moaning mess at this point and all you want is for Melissa to fuck you.
“Me-Melissa, p-please.” You say and Melissa pulls your pants down and off, as well as your panties. She stares at you completely naked for a second before separating your legs and then bends down to where your clit is. Before she dives in, the oven timer goes off, startling both of you.
“Stay just as you are, baby, this will just take a second.” She says and then goes and turns the oven off but keeps the food inside to keep warm. She returns back and goes back in between your legs. “Now where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” She tells you with a smirk and then bends down again.
“Wait.” You say and she stops and looks up at you. “Do you mind, um
” You start but then get nervous.
“What is it, baby?”
“Do you mind, putting your glasses on?” You ask her and she tilts her head before smiling.
“Have you imagined me eating you out before with my glasses on?” She asks and you nod. “Naughty girl.” She says with a smirk before she puts her glasses on. She then doesn’t wait any longer and dives down to your pussy. You gasp out as her hot tongue finally connects with your centre. You put your hands in her hair and grab her ponytail. You’ve imagined this scenario many times before but never thought it would come true. But now here she is, eating you out with her glasses on and hair in a ponytail just like you imagined. Melissa then moves to your clit and starts licking and sucking as you moan out. She then inserts a finger inside of you and all thoughts leave your head besides thoughts of her.
“Mel-Melissa.” You moan out and you feel her smile as she continues sucking on your clit. You feel your orgasm approaching and you tighten your hold on her hair. She then inserts a second finger in you and she replaces her tongue with her palm and straightens herself so sheïżœïżœs face to face with you.
“I want to watch as you come undone by me.” She says seductively and you wrap an arm around her and dig your nails into her back. She can tell you’re close at that point and she starts going faster. Your mouth is hanging open and you dig your nails deeper in her back and she can feel you squeeze around her fingers. “Come for me, baby.” She says and then you come around her fingers. She slows down inside of you before removing her fingers. She then brings her fingers to your mouth and you waste no time in opening her mouth and licking her fingers clean of your juices. “Now how about we eat dinner and then I take you to my bed and fuck you with a dildo.” You hum and lean your head on her chest as you’re coming down from your high. She strokes your head and wraps an arm around your back and presses a kiss to the top of your head.
She gave you her jean jacket to wear as she thought you getting dressed was a waste of time as she’ll just take all your clothes off again. All through dinner you stare at her and her arms. You had no idea she had muscles as she usually wears sweaters and long sleeve shirts.
“What are you staring at?” She asks you.
“You.” You simply say, not embarrassed to admit it now that she’s fucked you. “Mostly your arms. Had no idea you have muscles.”
“Most people don’t.” She simply says and gives you a smile. After dinner she brings you straight to the bedroom, she takes off the sweater she gave you and then pushes you down onto the bed. “Since you like staring at my chest so much, you’ll like what you see without anything on.” She tells you before she removes her shirt and bra. As soon as she removes her bra, your jaw drops. There they were, the objects of your gaze and they’re perfect.
“Wow.” You breathe out and she smirks before getting you on your back. She then takes her pants and underwear off as you lean on your forearms to watch her undress. She goes to her closet and puts a strap on with an average size dildo and then walks back to the bed. She goes on top of you and starts circling your clit. Once she feels that you’re wet enough, she puts some lube on the dildo and then slowly slides in you. Once she’s fully inside you, she gives you a second before she starts moving and you start gasping and moaning.
“Your pussy looks so good, just sucking this dildo right up.” Melissa tells you. After a couple minutes, as your orgasm approaches, Melissa suddenly pulls out of you and you look at her in shock. “I want you on all fours, so I can pound into you.” She says seductively in your ear and you shiver. You then get on your hands and knees and Melissa aligns the dildo with your entrance and inserts it into you. She then starts pounding into you and you fall a bit and Melissa takes advantage of that and keeps your ass lifted, giving a better angle. Once you get close again, she lifts you up so your back is pressed against her chest and she starts circling your clit while still moving the dildo inside of you. “This pussy is amazing and it’s all mine.” She says in your ear and you reach behind you and grab a hold of her hair. You come a few seconds later and your sounds get her to come as well since the dildo was rubbing her clit. You both catch your breath and lay down on the bed after Melissa takes the strap on off.
“Melissa?” You say as you look at her and she looks at you. “Was this a one time thing?” You ask her and she looks at you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Do you want this to be a one time thing?” She asks you and you shake your head. “I thought you were scared of me and now you want to see me more?” She asks you.
“You’ve given me no reason to be scared of you.” You tell her. “You did tell me that you’re not going to do anything to me.” You add and she smiles at you.
“This wasn’t a one time thing, I would like to do it again. As well as take you out on a date.” She says and you smile at her.
“I would like that.” You say and she pulls you closer to her.
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lalalychee-x · 8 months ago
Text
DR. RATIO D!CK PROFILE ft. headcannons
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♡ WOOO! Per request, next up in this series is DR. RATIO! Didn't expect this series to gain so much attention; should I make a masterlist for it? Anyway, yk those comments that pop out hex codes about character's cock? Yeah, well, I'm going to do that too, and this time its our mundane know-it-all...!
♡ BASICS
girth: #edcfc7 body: #fae9e3 tip: #e8b3a7 size: 7inch-7.5inch texture: pale veins +veiny enough to feel them, very little curve thickness: 2.5inch foreskin: no
DR. RATIO! 's dick is probably well kept as he can't stand mess or imperfections. Looks like a work of ART, goddamn, like its perfectly sculpted. And he's generally one of the thicker ones.
DR. RATIO! 's cock doesn't curve much or at all, again looking pristine perfect. He's overall quite pale, and his tip is pale-reddish, thick and long. It takes up a good 2.5inches of his length off the bat...
DR. RATIO! is awfully stubborn though. He often just plays dead-serious, even if he is aroused by your antics. It does take him a lot of SHEER WILLPOWER to not give in.
DR. RATIO! However, expanding from that, the second he can get off of work, he has you bent over his desk and pounds you from behind. He likes tracing circles on the curve of your back, down your spine to feel and massage every curve and every bone. He grips and feels every lock of hair on your head as he pulls on it gently from behind. 
DR. RATIO! Heavily going off of that previous point, he just loves watching your figure shiny with sweat and fluid beneath him. He definitely mutters in awe at your figure, chanting how beautiful you look and worshipping your body as he fucks you: as if you were the most alluring piece of art to him.
DR. RATIO! is, despite appearing cold, praises you a lot; almost worshipping you when he sees your figure on display. He'll trail his hands (and occasionally his tongue) up and down your body, massaging and groaning with a furrowed expression as he does so. Will be constantly mutter praises and compliments breathlessly as he touches you.
DR. RATIO! is, however, a very work-orientated man. You often tease him, almost begging him to give you a bit of attention when he works long hours, or when he keeps saying 5 more minutes when you come to pick him up from his office to have lunch with him. But its not like you back down easily either...
DR. RATIO! Oh boy, you're lucky that his collegues respect him enough to not say anything when you've finally had enough and tug on his belt from under his desk. You purposefully choose when he is on a call or meeting of some sort with his camera on, before being agonisingly slow with sucking him off. You consider it a bit of payback for his cold nature (though, he is comforting at heart).
DR. RATIO! is (not so) surprisingly easy to annoy, but it's also (not so) surprisingly easy to get him hard. Just a few pumps and a couple of licks from you, means he's already having to mask his flustered state; you can tell because he starts furiously tapping his foot under his desk beside where you're sat. Out of view of the camera and the people he's talking to, of course, but he slips up once in a while. "Yes, I think we should — ! Mmh —! Hrgh, s-sorry. Repeat t-that?"
DR. RATIO! takes things slow in general, enough that he can savour you and really take in all of you, like he was analysing you. He relishes your figure as foreplay, kissing you in strange places, but it's pure admiration. To be admired by Dr. Ratio is insanely high praise.
DR. RATIO! ...How do I even describe balls?! Like, at all?! Am also working on a small Ratio x reader fic soon! Keep an eye out and tell me if you'd like that <3
Feel free to ask for other characters!
♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!
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geraskierfanficprompts · 4 months ago
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Eskel noted Geralt’s scent on the crossroads. There wasn’t a lot of overlap in their paths (with so few witchers left, the priority was to cover as much ground as possible, not seek company), but Eskel had chased a creature much farther west than he usually went.
After a long, difficult hunt, Eskel decided he deserved to spend a night in his brother’s company.
Only, as he’s following Geralt’s scent trail, he hears an unfamiliar voice. The voice is in the same direction as Geralt’s scent. But Geralt didn’t take people on hunts, did he?
Eskel finds the source of the voice at what could only be Geralt’s camp. A man in a multi-colored, unbuttoned doublet is cooing and chatting at Roach. Who, amazingly, tolerates the noise. She’s also letting the man braid her mane.
What the fuck?
Scorpion, having recognized Roach, announced their presence with a neigh. The noise startled the colorful man. The man spun on his heel, fumbling to pull out a knife at his waist.
That knife
that was a Kaer Morhen blade!
Upon getting a good look at Eskel, the colorful man relaxed and sheathed his blade.
“You witchers, always sneaking up on poor bards. I swear, one of you shall startle me into a heart attack one day.”
Though he griped, the colorful man looked cheerful as he approached and held out his hand.
“Jaskier the bard, master of the seven liberal arts, at your service. Who might you be, sir Witcher?”
He was baffled by the man’s sunny, fearless attitude, but he took the hand, saying, “Eskel of the wolf school.”
“How delightful! Do you know Geralt?”
“We consider each other brothers.”
“And yet he never mentioned you. That man,” Jaskier tsked, “He never tells me anything!
“If it’s any consolation, he doesn’t tell us much either.”
Jaskier went on to tell Eskel that Geralt was out hunting and would be back soon. The bard invited Eskel to make himself at home and join him by the fire. They simply must become acquainted!
As Jaskier went on, Eskel got a good whiff of his scent. It was familiar to him. It was something that hung on Geralt when he returned from the path. Not to mention, Geralt’s scent was all over this man.
Given all of these signs, Eskel could only come to one conclusion: this was Geralt’s secret lover. The only thing that could make it more obvious would be if they exchanged medallions, which was impossible because this man wasn’t a witcher.
Eskel wasn’t surprised that Geralt kept his lover a secret. He had always been a bit territorial. And getting personal details out of Geralt was like trying to pry an alligator’s mouth open.
How lucky he was to encounter Jaskier! They could fill each other in on the details Geralt was needlessly stingy with.
I'm a huge sucker for witchers-meeting-jaskier fics, especially when they come to the conclusion that Geralt is in love with his bard (because he is!) I love this, I love this, I love this!
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venomous-qwille · 8 months ago
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A NOTE REGARDING WIKIS AND LORE DOCS
I've mentioned this in Misutamojis before, but just realised there was nothing about it here so:
Please don't create public lore docs or wikis for GITM.
I totally understand that the story is already sprawling and there are a lot of characters to keep track of, but here is my reasoning behind this request:
GITM is still in its very early stages, there is so little that you concretely know about any of the characters/story that it is likely that any character bios people write will be fundamentally incorrect. Same goes for lore about the worldbuilding and the Sight. It's much easier to spread misinfo than fact, and certain stuff in fic is kept deliberately misleading/vague for fun story purposes.
GITM is not a TV show and I am not a showrunner. I am just another DCA fan on the internet who wants to chat about their OCs, I should be allowed to do that without having my every word indexed. To be clear, as I have said many many many many times in the past: people quoting what I say in discord, analysing my casual art/magmas/drabbles, or screencapping casual convos and jokes to pull them apart to dissect details from it makes me really really uncomfortable. If people started screencapping what I say to stick it on a doc for proof of XYZ thing about a character you guys haven't even met yet... I would probably stop interacting on this server point blank. Please imagine how you would feel if people were screenshotting your desktop background to read your filenames so they could theorycraft. That has happened in this server. More than once. Please stop. Your FOMO is not more important than my boundaries.
The intended reading experience for GITM is... reading GITM. Yes sometimes I share my personal headcanons and tidbits for characters, but I promise that all of this stuff will be discovered in fic. I don't want people to learn about Fool's favourite songs from a google doc. I want you to learn about it from GITM. That is why I am writing GITM: to tell you about these characters.
I would like the opportunity to make a GITM wiki myself at some point in the future.
I understand this might be frustrating, I know the lore is overwhelming as it stands. As always, if you have questions about the characters, you are welcome to ask in one of the discussion channels- I don't mind people @ ing me for that- I love talking about GITM! I am always happy to answer new FAQs at length.
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pro-sipper · 1 month ago
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I understand that we should just block content we don't wanna see, but I still think things like proships or ships that are wrong and illegal in irl should be kept private. Because that is exposing kids to the romantization of abuse, incest, and pedophilia. This content may expose them to predators, which could cause them harmful trauma, the type that people claim to use proshipping for. They may think that a person older than them liking a kid is ok, even though the adult has bad intentions. We know that they are fictional characters, but they represent real people and can still affect kids. And if this isn't supposed to affect them irl, why do so many groomers show proship media and illegal art to grow kids?
Don't want to start anything just curious
I think the short version of the argument is basically "the internet shouldn't have to be a 100% sanitized and safe space for children". But getting further into it...
"but I still think things like proships or ships that are wrong and illegal in irl should be kept private."
It's not worth mentioning now but "proships" aren't a thing. Proship doesn't stand for problematic ship, it's not an adjective.
My question is why this line of thinking only applies to ships? Murder and cannibalism are also illegal, but no one's going around saying you should keep your love of horror to yourself, or only watch R rated movies in the privacy of your own home.
"Because that is exposing kids to the romantization of abuse, incest, and pedophilia."
The majority of people interacting with media like this, or making posts about this, DO NOT want kids interacting with their content! They slap every rating, warning label, and trigger tag under the sun onto their work to say that it is not for kids. At the end of the day, that's all you can do. It is not one random proshipper's job to shelter every single child in the world.
Furthermore, kids are exposed to that crap from plenty of other places besides randos on tumblr. Walking into a library or turning on a television can easily expose kids to these topics just as much as going onto ao3 or opening tumblr could. That doesn't mean every professional author or tv writer on earth needs to create art that's palatable for children. Because that's not their responsibility.
"This content may expose them to predators"
It's grim to say, but literally anything on earth could potentially expose a child to a predator. Getting on the bus, going to the park, going to school, going to church, going to a friend's house, going home. Honestly I think it's a bit of a privileged mindset to think that a child would be 100% safe in this world if it weren't for faceless boogeymen online committing the sin of writing dark fic of their Blorbos.
"which could cause them harmful trauma,"
Again, that trauma could come from anywhere. And you're putting the weight of preventing that onto random strangers online, not anyone who's concretely in the hypothetical child's life, or actually responsible for them
"the type that people claim to use proshipping for"
Appreciate the subtleties of invalidating other people's trauma. Just because you don't have the same coping mechanisms doesn't mean theirs are invalid. Especially when countless licensed therapists agree that writing is one of the better ways you can help process trauma.
And to state the obvious, you don't need to have trauma to be a proshipper. Not everyone uses dark content for self reflection, some people just think it's neat.
"They may think that a person older than them liking a kid is ok, even though the adult has bad intentions."
A kid should not be getting 100%, or even most of their life lessons from fictional media. Parents, guardians, teachers, and other trusted adults in a child's life are the ones who need to teach them right from wrong, and how to protect themselves. I remember being a kid and being told by my mom "now if a stranger pulls up to you and says they lost their puppy and they'll give you candy if you help them look for it, do NOT go with them". That was her job as a parent.
Now I know that sadly, not every child has that kind of trusted adult in their life. But it's not the responsibility of a bunch of fanfic authors on tumblr to fill in the gaps.
"We know that they are fictional characters, but they represent real people and can still affect kids."
It doesn't matter how closely or loosely fiction depicts our reality, it's still just fiction at the end of the day. Movies have been using the whole "Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental" disclaimer for almost as long as there have been movies.
"And if this isn't supposed to affect them irl, why do so many groomers show proship media and illegal art to grow kids?"
One, art is not illegal. Unless you get caught graffiti-ing, then you might get fined. And no one is saying this kind of thing can't affect a child. But why, in this scenario, are you putting the blame on fanfic authors and fanartists before putting the blame on the actual groomer??
And again I ask, what exactly is "proship media" anyway? I'm guessing the kind of stuff that constantly appears on people's DNI lists, which could be anything from Steven Universe to Cannibal Holocaust, so who really knows??
Like I said in the short version, the internet should not have to be sanitized for the sake of the children. The entire internet does not need to be one giant safe space for kids. Adults have a right to talk about adult things with other adults. To explore dark topics in fiction, or to have fun with taboos in a harmless way.
I want the world to be safe for kids too. But the way to do that isn't to forbid adults from posting shit online. Instead of trying to shield children from every controversial, difficult, or uncomfortable topic under the sun, give them the tools they need to learn how to process these things.
Be a safe person to talk to if a kid has a question. Help them understand why something might be okay in a fantasy setting, but it's not something that should carry over into real life (like, a fairy tale prince kissing an sleeping princess to break a curse is fine, but in real life where there's no magic you should always make sure someone is okay with it before kissing them. Something like that)
Teach them internet safety, above all else. When I was a kid, you didn't give out any personal info. Nowadays kids have no qualms about giving out their full name, age, list of phobias and disorders, showing their school, their house - the list goes on.
Honestly, I think we need to go back to scaring kids with Stranger Danger, at least a little. But that's starting to veer into a different topic and I think I've said all I need to say about this one today.
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leviathanlazarus · 6 months ago
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In Your Fantasy
Tumblr media
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x (F) Reader
Word Count: ~5300
Warnings: semi-public sex (like...very low-key), oral sex (F receiving), unprotected PIV sex. 18+ only ~
This took me forever to finish because I started it before my stupid tonsillectomy and I was totally useless throughout most of the recovery. Also, it's been absolutely ages since I wrote a Jake x Reader fic so I'm not sure how I feel about it...I really enjoyed writing this regardless of my trepidation though. I loved the idea of falling in love with him at work and him being so cheeky...hope you enjoy it too <3
P.S. also ages ago, I wrote a Josh x Reader fic that also took place in a library which you can read here. Links on my desktop masterlist aren't active for some reason...but I found it using a certain tag lmao. If you know, you know.
---
You were finishing up fixing the order of some art books in the back of the library when you felt Jake come up behind you. “Wanna hear something kind of crazy?” he whispered in your ear, his chin nearly on your shoulder, his hair brushing against yours. Without even seeing him, the closeness and warmth of his body and the low, husky whisper sent a tingle up your spine–he certainly added a level of intrigue to working in a library. 
“Always,” you said, slipping the last book into the correct spot. It was a quiet Thursday afternoon–you’d thought it’d actually be busier given the rain that kept bucketing down outside, creating an even cozier atmosphere, but maybe people just wanted to stay home with their books instead. That was fine by you. You liked it when it was nearly dead silent throughout the building and Jake was there to occasionally break through, his voice a river through your thoughts and his subtle touches all shockwaves to your heart. 
When you turned around to face him, Jake looked like he was holding back a hilarious joke or something, eyes all eager and a grin tight on his lips like he was bursting at the seams. “So I just went to the bathroom and guess what I heard?” he went on, raising his eyebrows. 
You scrunched up your nose, already worried. This wasn’t what you were expecting when he’d said ‘something crazy.’ What sort of craziness happened in libraries anyway? “There are a lot of things I can think of. Is this a gross story?”
Jake chuckled. “It depends on your definition of ‘gross.’ Okay,” he said, looking around to make sure you two were still alone in the section. Then he looked into your eyes again and lowered his voice even more to tell you, “There were people fucking in there.” 
You scoffed, offended on behalf of the library–the sacred, beautiful space where people went to relax and read, not deal with lewd conduct. That wasn’t crazy, that was just offensive! “What, like two guys?” you questioned, tilting your head, a little irked at Jake finding this all so funny. 
“No, a guy and a girl.”
“Ugh. That’s even worse. Women shouldn’t have to deal with getting laid in a men’s bathroom,” you said, then were momentarily distracting yourself with yet another out of place book on the shelf.  “I’d never do that. I can’t believe someone else is. I mean, kids go here.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Jake said slowly. He leaned against the bookshelf and looked at you pointedly, his dark eyes even darker in the dim light. “Then again–”
Before he could finish, you had another thought. “Wait, Jake–did you say anything to them?”
“No. What could I say? I just high-tailed it out of there as soon as I heard.”
You sighed. The whole thing would be far more redeemable if your boyfriend had at least tried to throw out some warning words to the perpetrators. “You should have told them to stop. I would have.”
“I’m sure they finished soon after I left.” He smirked. “It sounded like they were pretty close.”
You groaned quietly and turned away, preferring to find another thing to busy yourself with now. “Gross. They should be banned.”
Jake followed along right at your side as you whisked through the rest of the art section and back to the cart you needed to empty. “I didn’t see who they were, so no chance of that.” At the cart, he put his hands on it, keeping it in place. “I actually thought you’d find it sort of amusing, Y/N.”
You leaned over, almost close enough to touch your noses together. “You’re such a guy. Only a guy would think it’s amusing and not disgusting.” 
“I don’t know about that. Maybe you’re just a little stuffy,” Jake replied, tilting his head up as if he were challenging you. “Although maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, considering we’ve never done anything like that.”
You scoffed again and leaned back, surprised and still a little irritated, but also genuinely curious. “Oh, so you want to fuck around in a public place? That’s something I didn’t know about you.”
Jake’s challenging stance turned crestfallen, and he lifted one of your hands to press a kiss to. “Forget I said anything about it. I mean, I suppose you’re right–it is kind of gross.” He kept your hand clasped in his for a few seconds as he said, “But I’d never make love to you in a public bathroom. I’d hope you know me better than that.”
You looked over your shoulder at the sound of a man clearing his throat, settling down into a chair with a newspaper. He wasn’t paying any attention to you or Jake, but you gave the cart a push anyway, cajoling Jake off it so you could navigate to where you needed to go next. 
“It’s really the fact that it’s the bathroom that makes it so gross,” you whispered as Jake kept following you. You couldn’t deny you’d had some secret fantasies about getting it on in the library–after all, it was where you and Jake had met and where you continued to spend the most time together. But none of your fantasies included the restrooms in the hall, or the utility closet or that little corridor tucked away across from the restrooms where the vending machines were. Too grody, too cramped, too obvious.
“At least our bathrooms are clean.” Jake parked himself right next to you once you were in the biography section, and when you stepped away from the cart, he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you in place. “But if I’m being really honest, I have thought about us, well, fooling around here. I think it’s quite surprising we never have.”
“Jake,” you said in an attempt to protest, but his sweet, pretty face and ticklish touch on your waist made you giggle, and his confession that echoed your own secret thoughts lit a little spark. “We work here!” 
“So? All the more reason. It’s always been our special place.” Jake smiled as he got even closer to kiss you; you kissed him back, looping your arms over his shoulders. He was smiling even bigger when you both broke away and he said, “You know, it’s just me closing tonight. You should stay after with me.”
“God, and do what?” you replied, but, despite yourself, you were growing more intrigued. 
“Well, don’t you think the study rooms here are nice and cozy?” Jake questioned, still latching himself to your side as you started to put more books away. “There aren’t any cameras in any of them either. No one would know.”
You looked up at him from your crouched position, sliding a book into place. “Someone would know. Someone would find out somehow.” You were quickly finding even more perfectly good reasons in your mind not to do this, to not even really toy with the idea, but the more you thought about it, the more you thought, why not? Could the risk make it more fun? Even just the new, ill-fitting, sort of scandalous environment? 
Besides, Jake really did look hot today. He looked hot every day, but the second you’d seen him after he’d come into work earlier, he’d lit a fire in your belly that was more intense than usual. His hair had the perfect level of slight messiness and the relaxed black button-down shirt was perhaps one or two buttons shy of being overtly inappropriate for work; the smooth tan skin of his chest exposed and acting as a lovely backdrop to the long silver chain dangling, the pendant hitting his sternum. You could imagine tugging on that chain, grasping the pendant in your palm, to pull him closer while he pressed you against one of those thick wooden tables. You’d run your fingers through his hair and kiss him in the frozen silence, and maybe no one would ever know after all.
“I can practically hear the wheels turning,” Jake remarked, tapping your forehead once you were standing again. “You know you want to.” 
You let out an inadvertent nervous giggle and rolled your eyes. “Yes, I’m thinking about it.”
Jake stepped closer, pressing you back against the cart of books. “I’d love to hear some of those thoughts,” he said, putting his hands on your waist.
“You’re lucky it’s dead here today,” you said, keeping your voice a whisper despite the, indeed, dead library around you. You rested your arms over his shoulders, twisting a strand of his hair between your fingers; Jake just kept looking at you with that sweet, silently begging gaze until you giggled, relenting. “Okay. I was, um
thinking about you pushing me down on one of those big tables.”
Jake’s eyebrows rose. “What else?”
“Well
” you began, looking down at his dark jeans rubbing against your skirt. “You’re giving me some more ideas now.” You lifted one foot off the floor to rub your calf over his, the delicate material of your tights creating subtle but scintillating friction against his denim. 
Jake ran the tip of his nose up your cheek and whispered in your ear, “Same here.” 
Just as you were closing your eyes and allowing yourself to let your environment fall away around you, to forget about all the risk of being caught right there, and just as Jake’s hand was sliding down between your legs, a person’s incredibly soft–thanks to the clever carpeting job–footsteps headed your way yanked you right out of the moment.
Jake, too. He shot back and cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair and looked in the direction of the footsteps; you did too, and soon enough an older woman with her nose already in an open book trotted past the shelves. 
“See?” you whispered, gesturing at the passer-by who was already out of view. “It’s so easy to get caught.”
“Please, that lady didn’t notice a thing. Alright,” Jake said before he stole one last hurried kiss. “I should let you keep doing your job and I should carry on with mine. But will you stay after with me tonight?”
You pursed your lips as you looked at him, considering, but it wasn’t long before you said, “Alright, Jake. I’ll stay after and we can play out your little fantasy.”
“It’s your fantasy too, baby doll,” Jake said with a wink before he half-turned, beginning to step away. “I think we’ve established that.”
-
There wasn’t a whole lot to keep your mind occupied as the afternoon carried on. The rain kept coming down, hammering hard against the roof and windows, and the sky outside was pure gray, all flat and blank. It reminded you of your first day working here, as a matter of fact–that morning in the previous late October, when autumn’s chill was officially in the air. A fine layer of frost had even been on the ground that morning; your shoes had crunched over it on the short walk to your car and you’d had to use your defroster once you turned the key, your anxiety peaking as you had to wait even longer to start the new job. 
How could such a quiet, peaceful place encite so much anxiety anyway? You remembered wondering that very question as you walked over the sidewalk to the library entrance for the first time since being hired, the concrete slick with that morning frost and the beginnings of a gentle rainfall. And just when you’d been settling in and getting comfortable, Jake had showed up and introduced himself, all casual and easy like he didn’t know he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.
Thankfully, Jake was also the sweetest man you’d ever met. It didn’t take long before his beauty and charm stopped intimidating you and instead just made you feel all light and full of joy–you were simply happy to chat with him whenever you both could spare a few minutes. Those few minutes steadily turned into shared breaks; then, shared lunches where you’d sit out back on the one picnic table when the weather permitted. Then he started bringing you special treats sometimes, things he knew you liked because he actually listened about what you liked, and then after that he started bringing you whole lunches packed with love and care that you’d never experienced before. 
So, after all that, was it really such a big deal to make love inside the place in which you fell in love?
None of your other coworkers even seemed to notice that you were staying later than planned this evening. But, just to be safe, you also made a point to hide out in the kid’s section when closing time crept up, busying yourself with cleaning up stray crayons and markers and then browsing through some of the newer picture book additions when you were done with that. 
When you were sliding one picture book back onto the shelf and reaching for another, you noticed the part of the library beyond the kid’s section dim; you stood up and walked out into the main area, and there Jake was behind the checkout counters flipping switches.
“Despite almost always being the one to close,” he said, flipping another switch. “I still sometimes forget which lights actually get turned off and which ones stay on.”
A path of yellow light led the way past the checkout and reception, past the few rows of public use desktop computers. Jake held your hand as you both stepped through the library, your heartbeat speeding up a bit with nervous yet delightful anticipation; a few more steps and you were further into the very back of the library, just about there. Four study rooms were staggered just beyond the teen reading section, two on the left and two on the right with a wall of windows in between. 
Jake opened the door to the last study room on the right. A large window was in there too, soaking in the deep sunset that was resting beyond the grass outside and the trees, and the mostly-bare branches of all the trees were throwing shadows across the library grounds. Then Jake flipped the light on, making it all disappear.
“Oh no,” you said, reaching behind him to flip it off again. “It’s sort of magical with the light off. Look at that sunset.”
Jake followed your gaze out the window to the wash of deep blue painted across the sky, nighttime so early in autumn that only a slight sliver of golden-orange remained just on the horizon. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago and had left a lingering mist on the ground, its faint haze trailing along just outside the windows–the whole scene was so much more peaceful than what was going on inside your head. You couldn’t shake the possibility of getting caught even though Jake was right about there being no cameras back here, and there was no one else around, not even any of the custodial staff, and not a soul out there in the fog. Just you and Jake in the little dark study room, his hand still warm around your own.
Your thoughts started to drift away, making space for your mind to comprehend the shadowed image of Jake before you as he gently turned you to face him. He smiled with the slightest bit of white teeth gleaming between his full lips, and you instinctively smiled back, pulled under his charm again. So, now effortlessly charmed and put at ease, you wrapped him in your arms and pulled him close, caressing his shoulder blade with one hand and the slight curve of his waist with the other as both of your smiles disappeared into a kiss. 
“You were making me crazy all day,” he remarked between the kisses that accelerated with both of your lips parted and the wet meeting of tongues. 
“Really? You kept it well-hidden.” Of course Jake did–you never doubted his affection and passion for you, but he kept everything so private. It was one of the many things you liked about him. You cupped the back of his head, sinking your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails just the way he liked it, and kissed him again.
“God, your ass in this skirt,” Jake said, voice a little rough, and he reached down to grab you there. “The way your hips move.” He licked his bottom lip as he took a moment to just look at you, his eyes scanning your face. “So unbelievably pretty.”
You held the side of his face. “You are too, Jakey.” He really was, and even in the dark–perhaps especially in the dark, actually. The shadows enveloped him in even more mystery than normal, but you could still so plainly see the angles of his face and the smoothness of his skin in the faint, distant glow of the lingering sunset. Jake smiled at the sound of that little nickname coming from you, then disappeared as he pressed his lips to yours again and pushed you back against the table just like in your little fantasy. 
You felt the warmth of his hand travel around your hip then slide down over your skirt; you kissed him harder and spread your legs a little wider when his fingers skated effortlessly up your thigh over your tights. Jake purred against your mouth as he traced the seam of those tights, and subsequently the crotch of your panties beneath, with one fingertip, and your own hands hurried down his body with much less grace to squeeze his ass and feel the hardness between his legs as reciprocity. 
Before you could do much more than that, he was pushing your skirt up all the way with one hand and continuing to use the other to tease you. Your breath caught in your throat as you were finding yourself trying to stay silent despite the library being completely empty; Jake carried on with longer, deeper touches over the crotch of your panties and tights. The steady back and forth of his fingers over the two thin layers of fabric sent a delightful tingle of pleasure up your spine but you couldn’t forget his either–you kept that one hand of your own on his crotch too, gently squeezing his erection through his pants.
Jake huffed softly and kissed you again; you clutched his arm with your other hand, squeezing his bicep. Maybe other people didn’t mind getting caught–maybe there really was some sort of thrill to it. Maybe other people actually sometimes wanted others to witness their most intimate moments but you didn’t. You couldn’t imagine doing this with the lights on in the middle of the day, with the soft noises of people beyond the walls and the risk of someone catching a glimpse from opening the door or from outside the windows. You were perfectly happy with having Jake all to yourself in the shadowed little square study room, his skin so perfectly warm, his kiss so perfectly molded to yours.
“Was this part of your fantasy?” Jake questioned as he slowly sank to his knees, keeping your skirt bunched up over your hips with both hands now. But it was obvious what he was doing, so you took their place to keep it out of the way while his hands squeezed your thighs as he pressed his face between your legs.
The scant sharpness of his teeth over your crotch made you gasp. “Maybe,” you answered, thighs quivering against the table behind you.
“Oh, come on,” Jake beckoned, looking up at you with a sweet but slightly mischievous gaze, his eyebrows raised just enough to display teasing curiosity. 
“Seems like you already know,” you replied, stifling a giggle at him struggling to get your tights down from beneath your skirt. 
“I don’t know how you wear these things,” he remarked, which made you actually let out a laugh.
“Just rip them for fuck’s sake,” you instructed, eager now, already wet for him. “They’re not expensive.”
Jake didn’t hesitate. “If you insist,” he said as he grabbed a fistful of black nylon in each hand and ripped the tights right open, then quickly pulled your panties to the side next, giving you no time to think at all anymore. Whatever words your mind may have found merely turned to shaky breaths as you watched Jake’s face disappear between your legs again.
He gave a little hum just as he went straight in, the bridge of his nose rubbing up against your clit while he dove his tongue into your center like he really did want to eat up all the arousal that had been conjured up just for him. Your fingers found his hair again, knuckles curling to tug the long strands while your nails scratched his scalp again and he let out a little pleased sound, almost like a gratified laugh, and dug his own blunt nails into your inner thigh as he kept you spread open. 
One word finally emerged from your lips–Jake’s name, simply spoken in a soft tone as the ministration of his tongue and lips had you squirming and quivering even harder, your heels digging into the carpet below as you slightly struggled to stay upright. The repeated flicks of tongue over your clit disappeared for a brief moment, then slowed to one long drag of his tongue over your center just to start that quick pace again. Sighs and whimpers were dragged out of you with each lick; when Jake slipped two fingers in, the slow but easy stretch made you tremble and clench your fingers into his hair even harder.
“You’re so tight,” he commented when he pulled back just enough for you to look down again and see your own wetness glistening on his lips and chin. You could feel it too, how much tighter you were clenching around his fingers as he gently thrust them and teased, curling them and now rubbing your clit with his thumb.
“You’re so good,” you told him breathlessly, closing your eyes again when the sensations had you arching your back. You hissed and bit your lip when Jake’s mouth found you again, his tongue teasing your clit more while he slid his fingers in deeper.
You had thought it would take more of a conscious effort to relax in this space and just let go, but it was easy, so easy–you just let your body respond to Jake with each tremble and moan and gasp and tug at his hair until your legs were outright shaking. Panting, the peak rising deep inside, you pulled him closer and he obliged, sucking on your clit as his fingers curled and gently tugged deep inside you too as if he was literally trying to pull you right to the edge you were already rapidly careening to.
His name from your lips once more wasn’t a soft little sigh; it was a sharp, long whine that seemed to boom in the little study room. Your ferocity surprised you even more when the overstimulation came on so soon and you yanked his head back with one hand and shoved him away with the other, your hand gripping his shoulder. Panting, eyes still shut, you could feel how much wetter you were with his saliva and the rush of your orgasm, the fluid soaking your panties that were pulled to the side and even the very inside of your thighs. 
Jake pressing a kiss to your thigh made you look down but he was getting up on his feet now; your gaze followed the steady movement of his rise and then you were whisked away into blissful darkness again when he closed in and kissed you–close-lipped because he was so polite. But you parted yours and slid your tongue over his and gripped his waist tight for a moment before hastily getting those buttons on his shirt undone, fingers trailing all the way down to get his pants undone next. 
He tentatively pushed you back onto the table a bit more so your feet were off the floor, legs still spread wide around him and dangling when he pulled his pants and underwear down just enough to reveal that heated hardness. His cock leaked just a bit as he stroked it once, looking at you, and a blip of that old insecurity born from adoration and fascination stroked your brain, because Jake was just so beautiful and his beauty was so much more stark in contrast to the plain white walls behind him. 
“That was intense,” Jake said with a chuckle, leaning in to kiss you. You sighed against his lips as he slid the head of his cock all through your wet center, making a point to rub longer and harder over your clit. As he slid in, taking your breath away entirely, he sighed too and you watched his shoulders drop and his chest flush and he asked, so casually, “Is your fantasy being fulfilled?”
Even with the impact of Jake’s cock filling you so perfectly, you had to laugh. “You're a fantasy, Jake,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, to make the head of his cock hit so deep inside you that you gasped again as if you weren’t expecting the feeling. “What about–” You had to pause when Jake gave his first thrust. “What about your fantasy? This was all your idea.”
“It was a shared idea,” he reminded you with the cutest little smile. How could anyone be so sexy and adorable at the same time, especially during the actual act of sex, especially when that sex was taking place inside a public library? But he was, and you kept your eyes on him as he steadily sped up with his hips and his hands explored your body over your clothes, one squeezing your breast through your shirt and the other smoothing down your waist, your hip, traveling around your thigh.
“Oh god,” you chirped when Jake’s fingers made contact with your still-sensitive clit; but he was gentle, clearly deliberately being slow with the little circles he was making. With your arms still a loop around his shoulders, you sank your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and held him there for a minute before the soft pink of his chest became too tempting not to touch.
“Fuck yeah, that feels amazing,” Jake said in that deliciously hazy, husky voice after you slipped your hands past his open shirt to toy with his nipples. Bringing more attention to him put your lingering overstimulation in the background–you continued to tease with one hand while the other skated over the other side of his chest, feeling his warm, soft skin, up to his neck. You caressed him there, your fingers lightly touching the tender skin along his throat and then up to his ear, and Jake moaned softly and tilted his head to try and get more contact.
That was fine by you. You lightly scratched behind his ear like he was a cat and he sort of purred like one anyway, making you giggle; Jake giggled too and surged forward, picking up his pace as he whisked you away with another series of kisses that were deep but just sloppy enough for your mutual moans to be voiced. 
But, also to your surprise, Jake began to voice more thoughts between increasingly ragged breaths: “Remember when we first met?” he asked, his fingers over your clit sliding down to get slick again from your own arousal. “That was–fuck, that was such a good day.”
“It was,” you agreed, playing with one of his earrings as your other hand squeezed his pec. “I’m lucky I even got the job here. For a lot of reasons.” You stole another lingering kiss before adding, “You’re the biggest reason.”
Jake smiled. The sunset that had been just barely clinging to life when you’d both began was gone now–the only illumination was coming from a parking lot light that was too far away from the windows to see, but the pale yellow glow was scant enough to see that alluring, mystical beauty that your boyfriend possessed. Just looking at his face was enough to make you come again.
But Jake’s skilled fingers and the heat, weight and stretch of his cock still thrusting into you certainly helped. You buried your face against his neck now that you had access to all of him; a thick sob was muffled as you tightened and spasmed around him, and you heard him let out a quiet “wow” as the second orgasm rolled through you. 
His fingers on your clit, thankfully, moved away. He gripped your thigh again instead; his pace was now messy and fierce, and you had to fight to stay in place not only from the harsh movements and how the table you were sitting on was skidding a bit across the floor, but also from that second round of intense bodily excitement. 
“God,” you huffed, stifling another laugh. Apparently it didn't matter where you were–if you were with Jake, he just gave you the giggles. “You’re really going for it.”
Jake cradled the back of your head, messing with your hair a bit. “And I’m–hmm–almost there.”
You kissed him softly and sweetly, from his collarbone and up his neck to his ear. “Good boy,” you whispered there, giving his ear a nibble. Jake moaned wordlessly in response and gave one last deep, solid thrust that jostled you backwards and made the table creak, then he went slack over you, his whole upper body all loose and so hot that warmth was radiating through his shirt.
When Jake lifted his head, you leaned back and waved the back of your hand over your forehead with a silly “whew” motion; Jake laughed and nodded, then slowly pulled out. He collapsed forward again, resting his head on your chest, and you wrapped your arms around him once more. 
“Well, we’ve done it once. Do we ever need to do it again?” you asked, petting his back.
“Like, um, sex?” Jake asked, mumbling against your chest. “Or sex in the library?”
“In the library, duh,” you said with a chuckle, and kissed him when he lifted himself up and looked at you. 
“Where else should we do it?” Jake replied, his tone and little smile making it obvious he was kidding–finally. You were glad to have played out this little fantasy and do something new and a little risky, but you’d be even more glad to just go back to the way things were. Nothing wrong with a classic. 
“Our bed, definitely,” you said, and Jake smiled and nodded again; you began working on buttoning up his shirt. “Our couch. The floor. Maybe the shower.” 
“Maybe?”
“Last time we tried the shower, you nearly cracked your head open,” you reminded him, lifting a hand to cup his jaw. “And nearly broke your perfect teeth.”
Jake’s smile grew wider. “That would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”
“I’d never forgive that stupid shower.”
Jake patted his hands from your shoulders down the length of your body, stopping at your ankles. “Well, babe, we’re both in one piece now, aren’t we? Time to close up?”
“Definitely. The custodians are probably going to be here any minute.”
“Oh my.” Jake held your hand to bring you off the table. “That would have been quite the show for them.” 
“No more shows,” you said as you both put the finishing touches on getting yourselves decent before Jake opened the door. “I should be the only one looking at you when we fuck.”
---
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jasmines-library · 1 year ago
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Hii! Sorry idk if your okay with this, if your not, feel free to ignore! <3
So I was wondering if you could do youngest batsib reader, who’s not really part of the family yet? Okay so, they’re a criminal like catwoman, they only steal from people who deserve it and just kind of a troublemaker around Gotham. They have electricity powers. They’re parents died at a young age and they ran away from the orphanage because they didn’t want to get adopted. They’re actually really smart, and know a lot of martial arts to help them get by. Anywaysss, I was wondering if during a place they were trying to rob, blow up for some reason. And it lead to them being knocked out and injured. Someone from the batfamily came across them and instead of turning them into the police, they take them to the batcave and patch em ip before putting them in a cell. They wake up and the batfam interrogates them, they find out they’re a kid and knows their secret identity (because he’s really smart) and after a bit, Bruce offers to take them in, and train them to be a vigilante. Reader is reluctant and doesn’t really trust them but they’re getting really tired of sleeping on the streets so they reluctantly says yes.
My Way Home Is Through You
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Note: This was fun to write, thanks for the request anon!
Warnings: Minor undescribed injury, theft, none really, fluffy found family fic.
Word count: 1.7k
⛀ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛀
You slunk along the sidewalks, clinging tightly to the walls as though a small child might do to their mother in a crowd of people. Hiding away in the shadows was nothing new to you, you had been a nobody for years. Constantly running, never settling in one place for too long before you were slinking off again and finding a new corner of Gotham to call your home for a few miserable days before the cycle started again. At first you had tried to cling onto the last shreds of your parents that you had left. You hung onto your name but soon that began to get you into trouble when the orphanages kept trying to pursue you and ‘bring you to a new and loving family’, so it was back to being just another face in the crowd. Just another ordinary kid trying to navigate their way through a big city.
Except
you were more than that. In your time alone you had discovered you had quite a knack for stealth. It started off when the nights became too cold and the growling in your stomach was so overbearing that it drowned out all other senses. You were still small, which you used strongly to your advantage, weaving in and out of the sea of faces before slipping small pieces of food under the hem of your raggedy sleeve that was far too long for you and dangled below your fingers. After that it soon became easy enough to steal other things. Just enough to get by. A ring here, a gold watch there. Small items from the cruel and the unworthy that you could pawn off for a little extra cash. 
There was something else about you though that helped out just a little bit. It was one of the reasons that you had spent so long trying to hide away. See, when you were young you discovered that there was something different about you. When you focused hard enough, you could feel the electricity channelling through your veins and sizzling at your fingertips. You learnt to manipulate it, to bend it to your will and it quickly became very useful when picking locks. You used it to fry them seamlessly before sneaking in and if worse came to worse, you could stun the police when they came thundering after you shouting profanities and threats and they ran, never to catch you with your nimbleness. They had tried to set the vigilantes on you more than once and you knew very well that their eyes were always on you, following your every move just waiting for the perfect moment to strike because you had seen them. Sometimes in the uniform. Sometimes not. As much as they tried to be they were much less subtle than they thought. 
When you reached the complex it was dark. All of the lamp posts nearby had flickered sporadically before burning out completely, so you hopped up the steps blindly before crouching down in front of the locks. You then outstretched your hand and took a deep breath, letting your body relax to feel the current dance in your veins and settle on your fingertips. You then directed the current towards the lock watching as it fried before swinging open. You darted in pushing it shut behind you and then set to work around the house. It was small and shabby with mould growing in some of the corners by the windows. It crawled up the walls, a darkened stain that emitted a putrid smell when you got a little too close. The floorboards cracked and groaned as you moved around the plot, weaving in and out of the furniture that had been strewn across the room. It was clear that someone had left in a hurry. You were shuffling around the unmade bed, reaching for the safe when you heard it. 
Tick. Tick. Ticktick. tickticktick.  
The sound was daunting, getting faster and faster as you scrambled to find the source, overturning chairs and throwing them to the floor as though they were nothing then tearing up floorboards. It was too late when you found it ticking away impendingly. The timer blinked by quickly as it neared zero and you were neft with no choice but to try and get as much distance between you and the weapon. The meagre metres you had out between yourself and the bomb hardly made any difference at all as it ignited flinging you across the room. Wood splintered around you as the concrete cracked and crumbled in heaps which you skidded to a halt on. You felt like you were going to hurl as your head thudded against the debris with a sickening crack that made your vision swam before all of the colours merged into one and you knew nothing more but a dark and heavy silence. 
~~~
“Move it! Go!” 
Nightwing shoved his little brother rather harshly in the shoulder to urge him forwards. Word had just reached them that a small house on the outskirts of the city had suddenly exploded and the number of casualties was currently unknown. Dick always seemed to get a sudden adrenaline rush whenever an emergency came in and not matter how fast he moved he always felt as though he could never get there fast enough even if he was hurtling through the city at an alarming speed. 
He had to swallow back his alarm when they skidded to a halt at the scene. There was nothing really left of the building besides a few odd shaped pillars of concrete and pipes that were strong enough to survive the blast. The rest of the building was a dismal load of ash and dust that rose in ribbons as the wind lifted up the pieces that were small enough and carried them away into a cloud of sky.
Nightwing pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered and ducked under the police tape despite their protests. His heart nearly stopped when he inched his way around what used to be a bed but was now a cluster of broken timber buried under a pile of rubble because he spotted your figure sprawled out across the floor. He skidded to the ground and began to pull the pieces of clutter away from you, grimacing at the sight of the blood that came away on his fingers.
Red Hood dropped down beside him just as Dick Grayson brushed some of the dust from your face and sudden recognition washed over him.
“Hood.” He said over his shoulder. “I think you better call B.”
~~~
Your head felt like it was going to explode when you woke up and there was a stabbing pain in your side but when you moved your hand to slide the hem of your stop up you were cut short by a metal handcuff securing you to the wall next to the bed you had been placed in. Shuffling around awkwardly you managed to push yourself up into a sitting position to gauge your surroundings better. The cell you were in although small was rather well lit and surprisingly homely. Too bad you had no intention in staying. You had planned to use your powers to fry the handcuff, but when you tried to summon the electricity you were left high and dry when nothing happened. 
“That’s not going to work.” A figure you hadn’t noticed in the corner of the room told you when you began to try again. 
Frowning at him, he folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “Power suppressing cuffs.”
Rolling your eyes you slumped defeatedly. You should have figured as much. 
“What were you doing in there?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you from behind his infamous cowl. 
“That’s none of your business.”
“I think it is, kid.”
You turned your gaze away from him and picked at the skin around your thumb. “It’s not that I wanted to be in there. It’s what I had to do.”
The vigilante stepped forwards and took a seat next to you. “Go on.”
“I needed the money. I can’t go to anyone so I have no choice but to find my own way around problems. I was gonna pawn the jewellery off. And besides it’s not like the guy owned it in the first place. He was the one that stole it from the jewellers last week.”
“How’d you know that?” Batman frowned. That information had only been revealed recently.
“I get around a lot.”
He pursed his lips. “What else do you know?”
You could have grinned like the cheshire cat right there and then as you began to list things you had learnt. 
“I know that you still haven’t caught that guy who escaped from Arkham last month. I know that you’ve all been watching me. Oh and I know that you are Bruce Wayne.”
The man faltered. “What? How?”
“You’re less subtle than you think.”
“Or maybe you’re smarter than you think. What d’you say your name is kid?”
“I didn’t.”
He sighed, watching you in silence until you eventually gave him your name. 
“You’re something, Kid. I’ll give you that much.”
“Thank you
?”
“How would you like to stay? We would train you to become a vigilante like us.” The question was so sudden that it made your head spin.
“I can’t ask that of you.” You told him. It was more of an excuse really. You weren’t sure if you could trust him or not.”
“You’re not. I’m offering. A warm place to stay, a family to care for you.”
A smile twinged at the corner of your lips. That was something you had longed for for so long but had never seen that it had slipped to the back of your mind forgotten. 
“So, what do you say, Y/N?”
“I think I would like that.”
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navybrat817 · 2 years ago
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I’m just gonna drop a little gift here

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LOOK AT HIM SO FUCKING GORGEOUS AND HOT AND đŸ˜©đŸ˜©đŸ˜©đŸ˜©đŸ˜©
Ok love you byeeeeeâœŒđŸ»
LOOK AT HIM. I say nothing is perfect and then he comes along. And are we getting a glimpse inside of Smartie's mind?
Daddy? Sorry.
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Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 760 Warnings: Discussion of Bucky being d-addy. Hehe.
A/N: Stud and Smartie nonsense. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
"You know what I don't get? The 'Daddy? Sorry.' thing," you told Natasha as you waited for Bucky to join you at the cafe for lunch. It was a beautiful day to sit outside. "Is it bad that I don't get it?"
"Not bad," Natasha replied, cocking an eyebrow at you and not questioning the out of the blue topic. "But what exactly are you not getting?"
"I guess calling a guy 'Daddy'," you shrugged, adding air quotes for good measure. "I've never done it."
"So, you haven't called Bucky 'Daddy'?" she smirked.
“No, I haven’t. I just said I haven’t called anyone that,” you said, holding your chin high when her expression didn’t change.
If there was one thing you appreciated about Natasha, she never made you feel dumb or embarrassed for any candid discussions you had with her. Even when she teased you, it was all in good fun. Bucky liked that the two of you became friends, though he preferred to be your main confidant. You felt the same way about him.
“But he isn’t just anyone.”
“I know,” you smiled, glancing around to see if he arrived yet. “He’s special.”
My future husband. I just know it.
“And you’re special to him, too. Can’t have Stud without Smartie,” the redhead said as you smiled more. It was nice to hear that. “Okay. In your mind, how would you describe a Daddy?”
You snorted a bit because you couldn’t believe this was where the conversation went. Well, you brought it up. You should’ve known your friend would ask questions. She did have a way of getting people to talk.
“Besides handsome?” you asked, getting a nod in agreement. You had to think about it before you continued. “I guess someone protective and maybe a bit dominant? Not in a controlling way, but in a ‘I want to take care of you’ kind of way.”
Bucky was the most protective person you knew. It wasn’t just physically standing up for you if he felt the need to step in and defend you. He cared about your mental well-being and feelings. And while he didn’t mind you taking the lead, he was very much the more dominant of the two of you. No matter what, you knew you were his number one priority in and out of bed.
“Go on,” she urged, taking a sip as she kept her neutral gaze on you.
A small smile touched your lips as you adjusted the hoodie you were wearing. It was Bucky’s, of course. “And I guess it can be playful and affectionate, like I want to tease him. Can you imagine if I called him that in front of everyone?” you asked, giggling as you pictured a couple of expressions he might give you from hearing the nickname. “But it’s also vulnerable, in a way, because it might sound awkward if I say it and he may not like it. What matters is that I trusted him enough to say it though and he might like it.”
I trust him to tell me the truth.
“Why do you think he’d like it?”
You looked at her without an ounce of shame. “Because it's that extra bit of assurance that I’m his.”
But it also says he’s mine, right?
Natasha gave you a rare wide smile. “Sounds like you understand it just fine.”
As if he sensed the two of you were discussing him, Bucky came into view. If your friend heard you whimper, she kindly didn’t call you out on it. Maybe she was used to you gazing at Bucky Barnes like he was a work of art that you had the privilege to touch.
Your brain tried to tell your eyes to quit looking at him like a creep, but you didn’t blink. You just stared at your man and tried not to drool as you took in his tight blue sweater and pulled back hair. His stance and size screamed “power” and you suddenly wished he’d bend you over the table and take you right there. There was also a softness about him that made you want to burrow in his arms and never leave.
Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. OH. I fucking get it now. Is this a new kink unlocked? Wait, is it a kink?
“Call him ‘Daddy’ and I’ll pay for lunch,” Natasha offered as Bucky spotted you both and headed to the table.
“That’s a conversation for Daddy and I to have first,” you joked.
And knowing Bucky, he’d be happy with whatever you called him.
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How do we think he'd react? Love and thanks! ❀
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi
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xenteaart · 8 months ago
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contemplating mediocrity
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pairing: idol!chan x reader (gn but written with f!reader in mind) word count: 0,9k genre/warnings: er, hurt to comfort, use of "baby", self-doubt, honestly not much else, pretty pg-13 author's note: heavily inspired by @withleeknow 's last seungmin fic, i couldn't handle the angst and needed to comfort myself fkdjfkdjfk. also it kinda made me reflect on why it hurt so bad so i guess this fic is a little support and comfort thingy for everyone who might not be feeling "enough". before reading you might wanna check out the inspo fic itself <3
“baby? what’s wrong?” 
ah, he’s always too quick to notice. 
you take your eyes off the laptop and put a video of 3racha’s festival performance on pause.
“nothing. you guys did a wonderful job, truly. ’m just
 contemplating my mediocrity.”
“what?” he’s more just taken aback than anything else but you read it as irritation.
it’s one of those days when everything feels extra sensitive, even the things you can deal with well on a regular day.
“what? chris, baby, i’m not being self-deprecating, it’s just a fact. i truly could not be more proud of you, but sometimes i just can’t shake off the feeling of not doing enough compared to you. 
it warms my heart to know that you are so so loved and respected, it really does. but, i guess.. it’s a little humbling too? i haven’t achieved anything nearly as grand and i don’t have thousands of people cheering for me after i do as much as breathe. which you totally deserve, by the way, i’m not saying you don’t.”
long silence follows as chris frowns, carefully crafting his next response while you’re already starting to regret you opened your mouth at all. maybe, some things should be kept to yourself. maybe, it’s not really necessary to share every dark thought that comes to your pained mind after midnight. maybe, it’s safer for your relationship to just move those conversations to a cozy zoom meeting with your therapi—
“that’s a skewed perception of our dynamic though, baby.” 
oh, shit. he has the look. you know this one too well, and it says “i’m not letting this slide and we’re talking this through”. 
“how so?” you feel tired and discouraged already, mostly annoyed at yourself for making your boyfriend come up with some nonsense points to make you feel better now. 
“don’t put me on a pedestal. firstly, i think you’re forgetting how many people there actually are behind what we’re doing. daily. i’m talking all the staff and production teams, makeup, hair, clothes, art direction, schedule management. everything. there is literally a whole division for us that makes us look the way we look and helps us do what we love.”
you stay quiet, blinking slowly and pursing your lips together. 
“which isn’t to say we don’t work hard or that we haven’t achieved anything, but it wouldn’t have been possible without all that help. 
secondly, in my daily life i’m just a guy, baby. literally just a guy who loves music. nothing fancy,” chan gives you one of those wide soft smiles, and you hear your heart break a little. 
“yeah, well, not every guy who loves music has the amount of awards and recognition you do, baby.”
“okay, where is this truly going?”
there it goes.
“sometimes i worry i just can’t match it? that you’ll get bored of me because i’m not over the top extraordinary or... whatever.”
you feel stupid. 
“so you think i’m with you for your so-called achievements?”
you can’t come up with a response, so he continues, gently hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. his favorite way of making you feel loved. 
“i’m with you because you’re my sense of normalcy, baby. you calm my mind when it’s racing too fast. you’re my safe little harbour where i can find peace after hectic schedules and loud noises and crowds. you ease the weight i carry on my shoulders every day.” 
you stay silent, focusing on the feeling of his warm breath on your cheek. the tip of his nose is touching your skin lightly.
“you love the regular channie. you kiss my puffy swollen face in the mornings, and those kisses make me wonder if i’m actually not that bad without all the makeup on after all. you laugh at my jokes and cuddle me when i get needy. you listen to my darkest nastiest thoughts and never judge me for feeling whatever it is i’m feeling. 
what i’m getting at is that... i can just be me around you, you know? that’s why i’m still here. and i feel so proud to have a partner with a big warm heart and a strong mind, honored to be cared for by someone so neat and beautiful in the most mundane things.
do you really think i’d measure my love and respect for you by something like fame or... some noble achievements?”
“i don’t know,” you sound even more confused than at the beginning of this suddenly serious conversation, caught off guard by chan’s words, but mostly — his tenderness towards you. his patience and the way he's willing to spell it out for you if you're feeling too low to see the whole picture yourself.
"well, then i’m telling you. that is just not the case. you’re already everything i could ask for, baby. someone passionate, honest, reliable, loving and kind. someone who holds my hands through the hard days and makes me laugh on the good days. simple as that."
the pressure on your chest is slowly fading as chan's words finally sinking in, finding their ways into your system and rendering as the truth. the ache isn't completely gone but you know it will be in the morning, when the sunrise washes the rest of your worries away.
for now, you turn around in chris's embrace and hide your nose in the crook of his neck, simply breathing and enjoying the lingering scent of his soap. skin to skin.
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