#i really want to brush up one tho and maybe another

[niningtori]

clementine | preview

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after your explosive breakup and wordless, thorough disappearance from beomgyu's life, he's surprised to see that you've moved back to his town. when he happens to meet you again, beomgyu wants to apologize, maybe make amends for his unforgivable behavior, but he's devastated to find out that you've erased every memory of him. you don't want to remember him—or the love you once held onto so desperately—anymore. he knows that to be the case, so why is it so hard for him to feel the same way?

genre: angst, romance, potentially second chance, asshole!beomgyu to groveling! beomgyu (who saw this one coming...), inspired by eternal sunshine of the spotless mind tho i've never seen it and only know major plot points through cultural osmosis

warnings: angst, previous toxic relationship

word count: tbd

release date: really far in the future probably

notes: i received a request for this a while ago and i said i'd think about it then received an ask a couple of weeks ago saying another author was working on something based on the same movie. again, i've never seen the movie and i haven't read the author's work (or any new fanfiction rlly in the past few months cuz i haven't been in the headspace to enjoy it) so i will be making it up based off of the general concept of having memories of an ex erased. i said i'd wait to post it and i have every intention of doing so but i wrote this in a moment of inspiration and i've been posting previews so i thought i'd post this just as a teaser! it won't be out for a long time cuz i have so many wips and i don't want to be inconsiderate or invite weird, unsolicited comparisons. i just want to post previews bc i'm excited to get back into consistently writing after almost quitting 🥹

-

it’s jarring, to say the least, to see an estranged ex you used to love more than anything else in any unexpected context; but it's especially jarring for beomgyu as he watches you chatter away on your phone in the middle of the cafe he finds himself in. he catches your eye for just a second before you look away, and it's like he can't breathe. after your phone call, you smile as you type away on your screen. beomgyu gulps, because he knows that since you two made eye contact, it would be weird to just leave and pretend he didn't see you, though that's exactly what he wants to do. besides, no matter how much of a coward he is, he can't keep living with his unspoken feelings when he finally has the opportunity to express them, no matter how resolutely you might reject them. he hesitantly rises from his seat and walks over to you with unsure steps.

“hey,” he says unsteadily. you look up from your screen and give a forced smile, a far cry from the easy affection you used to give him. only him.

“uh, hey?” you reply. beomgyu worries he did the wrong thing by approaching you, especially because you seem confused that he said anything at all. you probably expected him to exit the cafe without a word, and the thought that you thought that he, who was once completely and utterly in love with you, would brush you off so easily brings a sharp pang to his chest.

“i… i know it’s been a while, but i… i want to, um, apologize for… everything.” he wants to lay down and die at his awkwardness, but he's wanted to say these words for so long, and no matter how much he’s compelled to swallow them down and safely tuck them away in the home they've carved out for themselves in his stomach, he knows this is the right thing to do. especially since you blocked him on everything before changing your number. especially since you moved away without a word after your disastrous breakup. especially since he hasn't seen you in so long, and he doesn't know if he'll ever see you again after this. your eyebrows furrow, and he braces himself for impact. but no amount of contrived mental fortitude could ever prepare him for your next words.

“... do i know you from somewhere?”

notes pt. 2: might delete this preview so be prepared for that possibility 🫰 peace and blessings :,) but please don't be mean or weird like actually

[todayisafridaynight]

ARGHRHRHGHGHRHARHRHGRH *shakes like a rabid dog* masadai

me opening my google docs and looking at all the bullshit ive written for these freaks like //tearfully/ Yeah...

[iraprince]

gonna show u guys a little opalescent highlight hack i threw together today

rainbow gradient above your main figure (i usually have all my main figure folders/layers in one big folder, so i can clip gradient maps + adjustments to it!). liquify tool to push the colors around a bit. STAY WITH ME I KNOW IT LOOKS STUPID RN I'M GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THIS

THEN: set it to add/glow (or the equivalent in ur drawing program), lower the opacity a bit, and apply a layer mask. then u can edit the mask with whatever tools you like to create rainbow highlights!!

in this case i'm mostly using the lasso fill tool to chip out little facets, but i've also done some soft airbrushing to bring in larger rainbow swirls in some areas. it's pretty subtle here, but you can see it better when i remove the gradient map that's above everything, since below i'm working in greyscale:

more granular rambling beneath the cut!

u could also just do this with a brush that has color jitter, but what i like about using layer masks for highlight/shading layers is how simple and reversible it makes everything. i can use whatever brushes i want, and erasing/redoing things is super low stakes, which is great when i often approach this stuff with a super trial-and-error approach.

example: have u ever thrown a gradient w multiple colors over an entire piece, set it to multiply etc, and then tried to erase it away to carve out shadows/highlights? it's super frustrating, bc it looks really good, but if u erase something and then change ur mind later, u basically would have to like. recreate the gradient in the area u want to cover up again. that's how i used to do things before figuring out layer masks!! but masking basically creates a version of this with INFINITE undo bc u can erase/re-place the base layer whenever u want.

anyway, back to rambling about this specific method:

i actually have TWO of these layers on this piece (one with the liquified swirls shown above, and another that's just a normal concentric circle gradient with much broader stripes) so i can vary the highlights easily as needed.

since i've basically hidden the rainbow pattern from myself, the colors in each brushstroke i make will kind of be a surprise, which isn't always great -- but easily fixable! for example, if i carve out a highlight and it turns out the rainbow pattern in that area is way too stripey, i can just switch from editing the mask to editing the main layer and blur that spot a bit.

also, this isn't a full explanation of the overall transparency effect in these screencaps! there's other layer stuff happening below the rainbow highlights, but the short version is i have all this character's body parts in different folders, each with their own lineart and background fill, and then the fill opacity is lowered and there's multiply layers clipped to that -- blah blah it's a whole thing. maybe i'll have a whole rundown on this on patreon later. uhhh i think that's it tho! i hope u get something useful out of this extremely specific thing i did lmao

[yawnzune]

morning serenade | cbg (m.)

pairing: beomgyu x reader

genre/au: smut, punk band!au, frenemies?, college setting

warnings: morning sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise kink, marking, fingering, orgasm delay/denial, creampie, he’s a lil possessive but wbk he’s just crazy lmao

a/n: barely fics are posted when it’s his birthday today so it made me whip this up rq since i was seeing random shits anyway after waking up. ily baby gyu, happy 23rd mwah <3

you're waking up to something heavy crushing your body on your bed.

that can’t be right. or this could be one of your sleep paralysis demons tormenting you again?

when you open one eye to check, it’s almost comical how the gurgling scream was gonna come out of your mouth but it didn’t.

grogginess from sleep mixed with shock rendered you speechless after finding a demon in the form of Choi Beomgyu, the lead guitarist of your school's punk band.

butt-naked between your legs.

“hi” his even deeper voice rumbles against your chest. it sends vibrations against your bare skin, particularly in your pussy where you're feeling a bit sore.

naked. you both are naked.

you try to remember what happened the night prior. memories start to resurface the more you stay in focus despite the man scanning your face on top of you. neither of you drank for sure but you remember kissing him which lead to a whole night of non-stop fucking.

beomgyu nuzzles your bare tits when you didn’t respond but you’re still focused on how good his messy red-bronze hair looks under the sunlight.

“what the fuck are you doing here punk?”

you tend to say the opposite of what you actually wanna say. just like you’re letting him stay on top of you instead of pushing him off.

“isn’t it obvious? we fucked” he states, a bit maniacally which should’ve concerned you about what he’s planning right now.

he giggles when you don’t rebuke him, leaving kisses around your chest.

this earns gasp from you, causing him to chuckle. you couldn’t even look at him, already closing your eyes as he continued to pepper your skin with more messy kisses until he reached your nipples, encircling his mouth briefly on both before releasing them with a pop.

“scratch that, i fucked you” he grins as he pulls himself up, allowing him to see you underneath him in full glory.

“and i’ll fuck you again”

beomgyu leans on one elbow against the mattress, his other hand touching whatever he can of your body. holding your cheek then briefly squeezing your breast down to caressing the side of your tummy.

“but..” you’ve been squirming under his touch, only halting when you feel his fingers in your cunt, checking to see how swollen you are.

“you’re soaking tho, you sure you don’t wanna?” he asks in a playful manner, fingers running through your folds and you wanted to scream.

scream his name that is, like hours ago.

your resolve's giving in, with how he’s looking at you like he’d been the whole night not helping your current predicament.

“beomie..” your legs absentmindedly close due to the sensitivity but he slaps your inner thighs, eliciting a whiny moan from you.

“go on, ask” his smile widened and you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes as your gaze stayed on them.

“f-fuck me?” you’re not used to this, asking him of all people but maybe this is why he wants you to say it more.

“that’s it? no please…” his smile turned wicked as he plunges a finger into your pussy slowly and added another one, much to your displeasure.

“fuck, please fuck me” you squeal, ignoring how pathetic you sounded. he’d tease you nonstop after this like he always does since you’ve known him but you don’t really care.

you just want his dick again before you both can go back to hating each other temporarily.

he brings you back by pulling his fingers out and you’ve never felt so empty. beomgyu adjusts himself, his length brushing against your thighs that had you whining again.

“tsk tsk, too impatient” he huffs, grabbing his dick to line it up against your soaking folds.

“n-no more teasing..” you plead again because you don’t know how long you can endure his teasing. he surprisingly obeyed, pushing in until he filled you up to the brim.

your sensitive walls couldn’t stop clenching around him, making him weaker than usual. he hates it, hates how you could reduce him to this.

“still too tight, ‘s like i didn’t fuck you a lot” he hisses as he moves his hips, increasing his pace at once. he wants to hear you moan louder for him, want to hear it as long as he can.

“gyu..too much” you’re babbling and moaning, can’t even tell him which one’s too much but you're gripping his back with so much strength to keep him closer to your body. he relishes it though, the scratch from your nails that will surely leave red marks against his skin.

“too much but you like it?” he asks and you nod, biting your lips and curling your toes at how much pleasure he’s giving you.

you’re supposed to be tired from fucking for hours but your body seemed to want more. more like you want Beomgyu more and that scares you.

he knew he found that soft spot inside you the moment your back started arching, almost hitting his face while he watched you under him. he leaned down to trail kisses along your neck, hearing you giggle each time his long hair brushed your skin.

you keep moaning Beomgyu’s name and he’s tempted to tease you just to hear you more. but he’ll take pity, you’ve been so good to him so far. he was actually worried that you’d push him away earlier that’s why he tried his best to distract you.

“..more..more..shit” your words spur him to grab your face, to keep you steady while he gives you what you ask.

“i’ll fuck you more don’t worry, after this i will” he starts, caressing your cheek, and your bleary eyes are having a hard time paying attention to him.

he’s so pretty and you suddenly wanna kiss him. grabbing his mullet, you try to pull his face into yours but he’s firm in his hold on your neck keeping you in place.

"will you let me? will you huh y/n?" he leans in as he says it, mouth open as he moans against your lips but not touching them. they're touching the side though and one small turn from you would allow that.

but his question irks you, no, his whole being does.

all you can do is nod, releasing a series of wanton moans of his name which causes satisfaction within him. beomgyu was gonna kiss you but that’s too much of a risk so he buries his head at the crook of your neck instead.

"i'll be good, so good you're never gonna fuck the others" he whispers by your ear, accompanied by a couple of desperate grunts that you’ve never heard from him before.

"good..mhmm..so good"

"yeah good? you like how i fuck you?" he goads, eager to hear your praises again like he can't get enough of it.

"yea-hngh, gyu omyfuck!" the band on your lower abdomen unexpectedly snaps, leading Beomgyu to fasten his pace even more to reach his own end.

he’s not far and seeing the pure bliss in your pretty face is enough for him to reach his peak, groaning loudly as releases inside you.

you’re both panting from another mind-blowing orgasm and eventually, he drops his body against yours.

this time, you push him off completely which earns a complaining whine from him.

“where are you going? can you even walk?” he taunts, still breathless but his tone irritates you because he’s right.

“shut up you fuckass!”

as soon as you tried standing, your legs gave away and Beomgyu started laughing. his annoying laughter echoes around that you tried ignoring even if you had hopes of him getting off the bed to hoist you up.

but of course he wouldn’t.

instead, he peeks by the edge of the mattress with that stupid mullet hair of his before he reaches out to grab yours gently. he tugs it to turn you to him, pulling your face closer and then leaning in while you stupidly do the same for some reason.

no kiss or anything, just him stopping right before your lips are about to touch. a taunting smile graces his in response to the frown etching on your face.

“awee don’t tell me you’re giving up already”

if he meant your stamina or something else, you don’t ever wanna figure it out.

.

e/n: i’m kinda out of practice for smut lmao + this is unedited so excuse 🤧. also i did not expect to post him first in this blog when i had yeonjun and soobin drafted first 🤡

[novemberheart]

Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2

{overview} Task force 141 has gone without an omega, despite needing one. Is their decision catching up to them?

{full story warning} a/b/o dynamics, poly 141 x reader, fem reader, omega reader, cursing, violence, blood, angst, future smut and suggestive language, chapter story, medical and military inaccuracies, age of reader not specified (adult tho)

{chapter warning} Nothing really, Simon needs medical attention

“Have you thought any more about my offer?”

“Have you thought any more about my answer?” John shot back, his arms folded across his chest. Kate sighed, digging her heels deeper into the dirt.

“They’re going to pair you up with one anyways, John. Wouldn't you rather they be chosen by me?” Kate pressed, turning to face the stubborn Captain. John pressed his lips together, his gaze distant.

“This a fact?” He hummed.

“They’re doing it all over the world. I'm sure your task force isn't out of the woods with this one.” Kate reminded. “Plus don't you think there could be some benefits?” Kate pressed.

“You think we need one?” John asked, his eyes finally landing on Kate.

“Honestly, yeah. I can smell it on you- all of you.” She spoke truthfully, her head glancing behind her at the three men lounging around in the dirt.

“We can talk about it later.” John shut down. “We’ve still got a job to do.”

“Business as usual, Captain.” 

“What’s his blood type?”

“B positive,” Johnny replied following the rolling gurney. The nurse rolled the gurney into another maze of hallways.

“Alpha, yeah?” She questioned. Johnny quickly replied with a yes, his hands digging into the fabric of his jeans. “What happened?”

“Shrapnel to the leg, maybe up higher?” Johnny explained, his eyes flickering behind him to John.

“He fell from quite a height too,” John added. The nurse nodded her head, pushing open two large doors with the gurney.

“You’ll have to wait here. Someone will come and see you when we’re done.” She explained the doors swinging shut behind her. For a few seconds, the doors opened, and the sound of utter chaos filled the hall. Johnny and Kyle winced the urge to follow- the urge to keep watch weighing on them.

“Steady now,” John spoke up, his hands resting on their heavy shoulders, guiding them towards some chairs a little further down the hall. “He’ll be fine, much to his annoyance.” They dry chuckled, sitting in the hard plastic chairs.

They sat for what felt like hours- maybe it was. Johnny had a hard time sitting in his seat, the blood in his veins still hot and swarming.

“You're making me dizzy, mate.” Kyle huffed, leaning down further in his seat. John hummed in agreement from next to him.

Finally, the two doors swung open, all of them standing at attention.

“Gentlemen? Simon Riley, yes?” The doctor asked, and they quickly nodded. She smiled causing relief to flood them. “He’ll be fine. He’ll need some recovery time though. Pulled some hot metal pieces out of his left leg, and treated it for some second-degree burns. He's going to have some intense brushing on his back and side- but no signs of internal bleeding. We also had to pop his shoulder back into place. Two weeks rest at the very least.” She explained. “He's already been wheeled to his holding place, but he’s not quite ready for visitors yet.”

“Instincts?” Kyle questioned.

“Correct. It seems like he's been passed out for a while, don't want him waking up still thinking he's on the field.” She responded. “Now would be a good time for the pack omega to join him. Or if they can't come, maybe something holding their scent. It'll calm him and make his adjustment easier.”

They paused, looking at each other before John spoke up.

“We don't have an omega,” John said, with a clear of his throat. The doctor's eye widened, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Oh.” She smiled slightly. “That changes things slightly. Without an omega, his healing time will be at least four to six weeks.”

It was their turn for their eyes to widen.

“We might have some extra clothes with omega scent on them. Now because he's not bonded it might not help by much, but it could make his waking up easier.” The doctor offered.

“I think a new scent’ll throw him off,” Kyle interjected. The others nodded their heads in agreement.

“Of course.” She smiled politely. “He’s on the fourth floor, room B12. I suggest waiting till tomorrow morning for visitation.”

“Thank you, doctor.” They said in unison. They watched as she spun on her heels, steering herself back into the double doors. John pulled out his phone from his pocket.

“What are you doing?” Johnny asked.

“Calling Kate.”

Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! The next chapter will be posted in three days! See you next time! 🤎🧡

[inkedinshadows]

For the requests: "I would certainly take all night" with Eris, please. I would be forever indebted to you. Can be smut or not, write it however you want! :)

Held in Firelight

Pairing: Eris x f!reader

A/N: Hi! No need to be indebted, don't worry! I just hope you'll like this bc I really liked this idea but I wrote it after six hours of class so it might not be my best work. I also don't know how to label it because it's a bit fluffy with a tiny sprinkle of angst and allusions to smutty bits? Idk idk I really like it tho

Warnings: arranged marriage, cheating (but the parties involved are aware so idk)

Word count: 1k

“I think he has a new lover.”

Your words cut through the comfortable silence that had settled over the sitting room. Eris raised a brow, but you continued to stir the wine in your glass, your eyes fixed on the swirling red liquid.

The silence stretched, broken only by the crackling embers in the fireplace. Eventually, he asked, “What makes you think that?”

You shrugged one shoulder. “He spent every night out this week. He doesn't do that if he's just sleeping around. He still comes home.”

Eris hummed, as if contemplating your answer.

These were your favorite moments—when Eris didn’t have court duties to attend to and could spend hours talking and drinking with you. It was your favorite way to ease the stress and tension of the life you had been forced into.

“He was out even two nights ago?”

You looked up at him. The firelight flickered on the side of his face, turning his hair into molten copper. You felt a sudden urge to reach across the couch and run your fingers through it.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Why do you ask?”

“It was your birthday,” he stated simply.

“So?”

He looked startled. “You really don’t care that he forgot?”

You sighed, setting your glass down. “Eris, he hasn't remembered my birthday in years.”

He didn’t reply, but his jaw clenched. You couldn’t tell if the flames in his eyes were just a reflection of the fire or if it was that simmering power of his.

With another sigh, you pressed on. “Let’s say he remembers,” you said. “Then what? You really believe he would spend the whole night with me, taking his sweet time to make me feel cherished, at least on my birthday?” You shook your head, the mere thought making you scoff. “No, I prefer it this way. He doesn't care about me, I don't care about him, and there's no point in pretending we do.”

Eris remained silent, his gaze fixed on the fireplace, his fingers clutching the stem of his glass so tightly you thought it might break. You knew he cared about you, that he hated your situation as much as you did, but even he couldn’t change it. Maybe once he became High Lord he’d banish arranged marriages and spare others from this fate, but it was too late for you.

Picking up your glass again, you tucked your legs beneath you and settled back against the pillows. You took a sip of wine, hoping that its rich taste might offer an excuse to change the topic, but you came up empty. You’d already commented on the flavor when he opened the bottle.

“I would certainly take all night.”

His voice was quiet, almost thoughtful, but when you turned to look at him, he was still facing away from you.

“What?” you blurted out. Surely, you had heard that wrong.

Finally, his eyes met yours, determined and unflinching. “I would take all night with you,” he repeated, “I would cherish you. And not just on your birthday.”

Your breath hitched. There had been a few lingering touches, a brush of fingers, words whispered after one too many glasses of wine. But never like this—so plain and blatant, so unguarded.

“Don't say that,” you murmured.

“Why not?” His eyes bore into you, pinning you in place. There was no escape—not that you wanted one. “We both want it.”

He was right. There was no arguing with that. Yet you still shook your head. “Eris, we can't.”

He moved closer. You didn’t resist when he took your glass and set it on the small table alongside his. An empty bottle stood next to an unopened one.

“Why not?” he asked again, his voice gentler now. “Just because you’re married? How many other females has he been with?”

Countless.

Maybe Eris was right about that too. Maybe you didn’t owe loyalty to a husband you had never wanted—a husband who had never been loyal to you. If he could have all the females he wanted, then maybe you could have the one male you wanted. The one person who always understood you, who never judged or mistreated you.

“When was the last time someone made you feel cherished?” Eris’s hand covered yours, his slender fingers intertwining with your own, squeezing once. “Made you feel good?”

You had never thought about your marriage in those terms. You had never wanted that union in the first place, so you had clung to the small things. Time away from your husband was good. You hadn’t shared a bed in a long time, and your conversations were awkward and stiff enough that the thought of intimacy hadn't crossed your mind in years. And you’d told yourself that was good enough.

But deep down, it had never really felt good.

Eris was still looking at you, his expression soft and understanding. As if he could see your every thought.

You looked away, unable to stomach it. “I don't know,” you finally whispered.

“Let me be that person.” He reached out, gently tilting your chin. “Let me make you feel good.”

Your eyes met again, and your resolve wavered. Then he brushed his thumb over your lips and spoke in a barely audible whisper.

“Let me love you.”

That word.

Love.

Your husband had never uttered it to you, nor had you to him. But hearing it from Eris… you knew he didn't mean just now—a stolen moment to carry in your heart. And that realization was the final push you needed.

You didn't know who moved first. One moment you were staring into each other's eyes. The next, your lips met.

He tasted like a wish come true after years of waiting.

You were done longing and yearning in secret, done pretending you didn't know what you truly wanted.

And as Eris loved you in front of the fireplace, you finally felt good. You felt cherished. And he took all night to make sure of it.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @ivy-34

1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

[ethtyn]

LET'S GO OUT WITH A BANG 🚦

taglist:

@ashiyn @single-malt-scotch @goodtimeswithetho @pebbltree @crabbunch @catmaidetho @amethyst-allium @stitchthesewords

sooooo ermm i guess i get to talk about this piece now YIPPEE

i am one of those people who's constantly trying to figure out what their own art style looks like LMFAO. i take frequent breaks from art due to mental health shit so it feels like every time i come back i'm trying to find my footing again.

that being said, i had a lot of caffeine yesterday and started this on a whim and it ended up being something i'm incredibly proud of. i think it helps that i've been redrawing old emotes for a friend's twitch channel, so figuring out which brushes i like right now was really helpful, and i ended up using my personal emote palette like...a lot. that pink in Etho's eye, the purple used for shading, most of the browns are all used in my own emotes. it's wild how much having colours already picked out streamlines things!

Etho is the one i started with, of course, and ended up being one that i went back to re-draw after i'd done...three? or four? more, because the sizing wasn't right and i wasn't happy with the posing. i still wish i could have conveyed him dipping his chin into his coat fluff a little better, but oh well. i thought of the little detail of him looking at Martyn's drawing at the last second (#ethtyn4life) and it made me laugh so i did it. points to you if you caught that!

Joel was the second - life!Joel has always been fey in my head, especially after that season when he just went batshit insane the second he turned red. can't explain it, that's just how it be. i tried to give him an air of subtle menace about him but i think he just looks sleepy 💀 i'd like to do these as individual, larger pieces at some point, so maybe i can work on that more then.

Grian was the third - he reminds me of a Lost Boy here and that wasn't intentional but the Lost Boys always kind of freaked me out and life!Grian's kinda freaky so i think it fits. his little smirk is so creepy and i love him.

i don't remember who i did next after this so we'll just go in order pfft

Bdubs is SO CUTE look at him. one of the few where i couldn't make a menacing expression work, and honestly with how good his profile turned out i barely mind. i did that side profile with no reference, y'all, idk what kind of crack i was on last night. what the hell. this was about the point where i started wanting to do little lore doodles for everybody so i added the clock face - i think it clashes with the red background but what can you do.

CLEOOOOOO CLEO CLEO. i LOVED drawing them, i think their design is one of my favourites of the bunch. her hair has always been snakes in my head and AGAIN i drew those with no reference, can you fucking believe that. i loved the little detail of some of the snakes poking at the people next to her, they're so cute hehe. also Cleo has freckles now, i'm so sorry but i don't make the rules. someone complimented the teeth in the reblogs and THANK YOU!! they're not quite anatomically correct but fuck it we ball and they look cool as hell anyway.

Martyn is so smug, i love him. points if you caught that he's looking at Cleo bc Double Life, i wanted to do something a lil different with him than just another straight up symmetry tool drawing and i think it fits. he is so eye-searing tho sir please tone it down.

Lizzie is fey just like her husband, and also she is smol. i don't think it's conveyed as well as i'd like here but i also didn't want her to look like a straight-up child so i did what i could. she is So Scary with those vacant blue eyes oh my god. and drawing her hair was sooooo fun i love long hair ahh

with Gem i basically smoothed out a rough design sketch i posted awhile back and i'm so proud of the little head cock she's got going on, she looks so cool. also her hair?? idk how i did that. i love her swoopy bangs so much.

Pearl is moth. Pearl will always be Moth. so she got lil antennae and big buggy eyes. drawing that hood was so satisfying, i used to try and draw Raven Teen Titans in high school and could never get the hood to look right so seeing this one come out perfectly was sooooo good. and of course had to include a teensy moon.

that's all i've got, i think - i feel myself crashing LMFAO. maybe at some point i'll come back and say more but here's this for now!

[thesunisatangerine]

playing for keeps – chapter four

alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader

warning/s: coarse language; mentions of: grief, death, drowning; not proofread

(a/n in the tags) [chapters: one, two, three, four]

word count: 13.1k

[1]

‘Can you meet me at the playground?’ was Guille’s message the night after your graduation, casting a blue streak over a relatively warm summer night. The short hand of the clock hovered over eleven when you got it, and you had half a mind to ignore it–because how dared he do this now?–but you sent him a reply before heading out of the door.

The playground was less than ten minutes away but you took the corner; the one that led around the block. He could wait, you thought. After all, you’d been giving him just that: the luxury of time. But he never did anything with it did he, so why would you rush? And what could he possibly want now after months of ignoring you? Was this a final goodbye? After everything you’d been through together, was this really how it’s going to end? 

You sniffled and ran the back of your hand over your eyes as you walked the last few yards to the park.

Tap tap tap.

The distinct sound of football-to-shoe brought you back. Ahead under the yellow glow of the lone streetlamp that lit the playground, with his back turned to you, was Guille juggling a football. A breeze brushed your cheek and it carried the familiar sweetness of Guille’s body spray. You remembered when he started using it—it was around the time you’d complained to him about how you found the scent of guy’s deodorants repugnant, and that you could only stand the new scent that he bought. And after that, it was all he’d ever used. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was around the time he started liking you, and the thought made you recoil. 

The ball reached another high, this time going over Guille’s head, making him turn, but it never connected to a touch. Instead, it landed on the ground. Its momentum carried it to a stop just a few paces away from you but you made no move to kick it back. You dragged your eyes away from the ball and found his finally.

For a moment, it was as if the world stood still. You soaked in the state of him: there was a heaviness that swelled in the skin beneath his eyes which were devoid of their usual light; his arms sagged heavily by his sides, contorting the contours of his silhouette to a shape that displaced the confidence you’d seen him wear so easily growing up. Even in the low light, the jagged cut that interrupted the line of his left brow remained prominent, but it was gone from view when dark curls fell to cover it after Guille ran his fingers through his hair.

He cleared his throat before he spoke, yet his voice still broke over his words. 

“Hey. Uh–thank you for coming,” he smiled a little. “Can we talk?”

You eyed him carefully, letting a moment of silence settle in the air as you crossed your arms. Only after you noted a slight movement in Guille’s throat did you skim the sole of your foot over the ball, sending it his way. When you met his eyes again, something akin to relief shone in them––or maybe it was gratitude?––before he kicked the ball towards you again. That went on for a while; back and forth the ball went during which no one said a word. From the way Guille kept clenching and unclenching his hands, you doubted he knew what he even wanted to say, least of all how to say it.

Still, you waited. 

Another moment, he stopped the ball, wiped his hands on the sides of his shirt before stuffing them in his short pockets, his posture awkward and stiff. He opened his mouth and in the breath before he spoke his first word, your heart dropped to your stomach and you braced yourself.

This was it.

“I–I want to apologize!”

You blinked. That… was unexpected.

“I know it’s probably too late, but I don’t think I can live without saying it, you know?” He shrugged as he smiled, but it was too crooked, and his eyes shone. 

“I’m really sorry. For what I did, and what I said. Those hurt you… I hurt you.”

He released a shaky breath, bit his lower lip as he swiped a thumb at the corner of his eye.

“I’m not expecting to be forgiven and I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore. I just–I’m sorry. And I want you to know that I had the best time with you.” 

His lips curled up to a smile but the quiver of his chin broke the curve and his tears spilled. 

He looked so young then, so much like a lost little boy who looked nothing like the boy you met when you were eight: newly-transferred Guille who became the smallest out of all the boys in your class yet, with his quiet confidence, he towered over them with his head held high. You remembered him as he was then when he first introduced himself to you, his cheeks rosy from playing too much under the sun and just a little out of breath when he asked you to be in his team during recess. He did it too without any snide remarks, something you’d gotten used to from playing with the other boys in class. He never brought your being a girl up even when your team lost, and it was the first time you were treated as an equal on the field at school. 

And he just stuck with you, and you with him; all the shared lunches, the laughter, the late night banters… there was no way you could let this friendship go. 

This was so stupid. 

“This is stupid,” you choked as you hastily wiped a tear away but it was quickly followed by another. “Come here, you idiot!” 

You surged forward and wrapped your arms around him, the force of it nearly knocking the both of you over. It took him a second but when the weight of his arms settled on you––when his comforting warmth finally seeped in––you were hit by just how much you’d missed him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” were the strained words spoken against your ear as he hugged you tighter. 

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled on his shoulder. “It’s going to take some time but we’ll be alright, I forgive you. And I want us to remain friends, under two conditions if you’re up for it.” 

He pulled away slightly to wipe his cheeks, and gave you a small smile. He was a bit breathless when he said, “Anything.” 

There was a light lilt in his tone and you understood he meant it, so you nodded, returning his smile. He followed you when you went to sit on one of the benches, situating himself so there was enough space between you for one person.

Looking him in the eye, you started, “I know it’s a lot to ask but if you have any plans to wait for me, I want you to forget about it. I love you and I care for you, but I need you to understand that a brother and a friend is all I will find in you.” 

His eyes strayed downwards and they clouded over. He closed them with a sigh and when they opened, he looked at you and you found a lightness in them that comforted you; his face bore a friendly warmth that you haven’t seen in a while.

“I understand, and you don’t have to apologise.” 

He scooted closer so he could bump his knee against yours, now grinning. His playfulness made you smile.

“And one more thing,” you added after a moment, and he nodded for you to continue. “You… you have to make amends with Alexia.” 

The grin fled from his face and you didn’t miss the way he flinched. His knuckles whitened and tension brewed in his muscles. And when his eyes darkened, you couldn’t help but frown at the change in his demeanor. You reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Guille––”

Then, like a spring, all the air of rigidness left him. He threw his head back and released a laugh that caught you off guard. When he regarded you again, the curve of his lips remained.

Then he said in a tone filled with mirth, “You know, if she hadn’t knocked some sense into me that night, I’d probably still be wallowing in self-pity like an entitled prick.”

At the reminder, your eyes wandered to the scar on his left brow but they lingered only for a second.

“And yes, done. She hates my guts,” you opened your mouth to protest otherwise but when Guille gave you a pointed look, you closed it immediately, “but I will patch things up with her. Besides, I need to thank her for straightening me out.”

You gaped at him.

“It’s that easy?”

He shrugged, still smiling.

“I mean, yeah? It’s either those or losing you, and I know I value you more than I do my pride and ego.”

There it was again, his quiet confidence. It diminished though when he brushed a finger over the bridge of his nose, eyes darting down to his feet briefly before meeting yours again. And when he spoke, there was more than a little uncertainty that bled into his tone, and maybe a little bit of hope. 

“Besides, we’re friends. Right?”

You scrunched your nose at him in answer as you grinned.

“Damn right,” you confirmed. Then you punched his shoulder for good measure. His jaw dropped open in an offended gasp. He sat there wide-eyed for a moment before he locked an arm around your neck, his free hand mussing up your hair in an instant, and you could only shriek and chortle at the action. 

In that moment, you felt as if a weight had finally been lifted off your shoulders. And there was no better way to truly feel the lightness of being than having somebody to laugh with. Then a comfortable pause washed over you both as you caught your breaths. In the silence that settled, you leaned back on your hands and kicked your feet up idly in the air. 

It was Guille who spoke first. 

“You don’t have to answer, but do you like someone?”

Your feet stilled. And then, without bidding, a series of images flashed through your mind of brown hair, freckles, hazel… Warmth coiled and gathered in your chest as if the ghost of a hand hovered over it. 

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

A distinct pop went off somewhere in your neck from the speed by which you gaped at him. Guille’s eyes remained trained ahead and his face was relaxed, void of any judgement… Surely, he didn’t say what you thought he said, right? 

You swallowed, throat dry, and choked, “What did you say?”

“Alexia.” He turned to you then, and smiled; small but not unkindly. “She’s the one, isn’t she?”

Blood thundered in your ears, and your heartbeat tripled. 

“No! I–That’s ridic–”

Warmth over your hand; Guille had taken yours into his, and the ice in your skin thawed instantly. Only when Guille tightened his grip to still your hand did you know just how badly you were shaking. 

“Hey, look at me. It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone, I swear,” his voice was soothing and he squeezed your hand for good measure. “I think, deep down, I’ve always known. Maybe that’s why I treated everything as a competition because I felt threatened by her. And I never understood why you always gravitated towards her like she’s your own Earth. But now I know. If… If I ever made it difficult to come to terms with your feelings for her, I’m sorry.” 

His words and their sincerity brought a calm with them, stopping the surge of panic in your veins. And, like a tide, it receded. Finally finding your voice again, you spoke. 

“You–you’re not angry?”

His brows rose.

“Why would I be?”

Then he gave you another smile. You understood it was meant to reassure you but you couldn’t help but notice that the corners of his lips were somewhat weighed down with sadness. Still, judgement made no home in his eyes. 

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise. And if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

A brief pause as his eyes wandered. 

“I–Maybe not for a while. It’s not that I want to, but I think some distance will do me some good. I want to respect your boundaries, and for me to do that, I need to get my feelings sorted out. I’m… I’ve made up my mind anyway. I’m leaving the city.” 

“What?” You choked. “When? Where are you going?”

Then a spark of anger went off. You jabbed at his shoulder. Guille yelped suddenly, his eyes became wide with surprise. 

“You jerk! Is that the reason why you’re finally saying sorry?!” 

“I–No, of course not! I mean, yeah, but no!” He gestured in the air. “What I’m trying to say is… I’m here because I want to make amends, not because I feel like I had to. Besides, I won’t be leaving for another two months.” 

Oh.

“Oh.” Your cheeks felt warm. 

“Yeah, ‘oh’.” He repeated with a sarcastic note but a playful spark lit up his eyes. 

You apologised sheepishly. Then, “Where are you headed? And what are you going to do?”

Guille shrugged, leaning back against his arms as he looked up at the night sky.

“I don’t know yet. I was thinking of travelling for a bit, maybe go around Europe first? Do you remember how Aunt Aloma lives in London? Yeah, she told me I could stay with her if I ever planned to go there for university.”

When he mentioned London, a lead sank into your gut. Logically, you knew it wasn’t too far away; the three-hour long flight would be a small price to pay to see Guille again. The fact that he wouldn’t be an arm’s reach away like he was right then—that childhood was departing—made your chest ache. You didn’t know you’d teared up until you felt Guille’s hand on your shoulder and the consequent squeeze there. 

“Don’t cry on me now, I haven’t even left yet.” He said lightly but his eyes were glazed over, too. “Hey, don’t worry, it won’t be for good. Before you know it, I’ll be back here to annoy you. And you know, maybe once I’ve settled in London you could even visit.”

You took his hand and squeezed it back, saying, “Just say the word and I’ll be there. 

[2]

“He’s studying what now?” 

“Sports Psychology. Pay attention.” You swatted at Alexia’s hand but she ignored you. She continued to pinch some more grass from beside where she was laying and let them get carried by the breeze as she threw them into the air. The blades of grass flew freely but some of them landed on her chest and stomach where a bunch of them had begun to pile up. Still, she continued her endeavor. She looked ridiculous but warmth filled you nonetheless, and you smiled as you leaned over to pick them off her jersey. 

Alexia hummed with a note of surprise, “He works fast. He’s only been away for four months?”

“Well, we are talking about Guille here.” 

“Hmm, I always thought Lover Boy would end up in physio–Hey!” 

Alexia yelped when you jerked your thigh that her head was resting on.

“Stop calling him that,” you reprimanded with a light flick to her forehead. At the reminder though, your cheeks warmed. 

She rubbed her forehead as she narrowed her eyes at you, then with a huff and a pout, “Fine, fine! No need to get defensive. Why is it such a big deal anyway?”

“Because, Alexia, we’re all trying to move on.”

“You make it sound like the two of you broke up or something.” She snickered before adding, “Which begs the question, why didn’t you ever go out with him? Minus the fact that he gave you a concussion, of course.” 

Her tone changed at the end, an inflection of something bitter—a bit of her protectiveness showing through—that you chose to ignore. Yet you found yourself unable to answer her anyway. 

You recalled the conversation you had with Guille that night, the way he figured out who held your heart so easily. Ever since, a question gnawed at the edge of your mind, the same one that whispered to you now: were your feelings so transparent? So obvious? 

A brush against your jaw pulled you back and, upon looking down, you were met with the question still in Alexia’s eyes. You shrugged, pulling away from her touch as nonchalantly as you could. 

“Guille is a friend and only that.”

“But you were so close,” she commented.

“Proximity doesn’t always mean intimacy, Alexia.” You were grasping for straws, you knew this. Your eyes wandered before you admitted with another shrug, “Besides, I can’t really see myself in a relationship. Not right now, anyway.”

“Oh.” The sound Alexia made was gentle, barely audible, that you thought it was the wind’s whisper. And then in a tone so soft, “Really? You don’t like anyone? Anyone at all?”

There was something in the way she asked that beckoned you to look back down at her. The scattered rays of the sun dappled her freckled cheeks with flushed amber, and her eyes that were normally a deep shade of ochre shone golden in the light. There was a softness in them that made your heart stutter, and another thing you couldn’t quite figure out, almost a plea, but about what?

You dragged your eyes away from her lips to meet her eyes.

“No, I don’t think it’s for me,” you murmured.

She stared at you for a long time. It felt like being swallowed into their depths and you could do nothing but be swept away, keep the contact somehow, lest she’d find something she shouldn’t see. So you stared right back. 

Eventually, she whispered, “Maybe you just haven’t found the right person yet.”

The lump in your throat remained even after you swallowed. Finally looking away, you hummed out in half-agreement.

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

A pause.

“Do you miss him?” 

“I do. I really do.” You admitted with a sigh. 

After another moment of silence, Alexia continued.

“Would… would you join a club in England?” 

Your gaze flicked back down to her, frowning a little.

“It’s either Barça or Bayern for me, Alexia. You know this.” 

At that, Alexia averted her eyes, picked a fallen leaf, twirled it between her fingers, and then looked at it as if it held the mysteries of the world. 

Carding a finger through her hair, you prompted softly, “Why would you ask that?” 

She shrugged, quirking the corner of her lips downwards. Then she met your eyes with barely concealed vulnerability, voice hesitant when she asked, “So, you’re staying?”

“I am,” you said firmly, smiling at her. “Besides, we’re in this together, aren’t we? Wherever you go, I’ll follow.” 

Finally, her lips broke into a grin.

“I can’t wait to play with you when we get on the first team.” She said with such certainty you couldn’t help but grin back.

“Do you really think we’ll make it?”

“Yeah. We will, you’ll see.”

And you did.

There reflected in her eyes the vision of a future. That familiar splendor of passion—that unwavering resolve—shone untarnished, and the mere sight of it filled you with an overwhelming desire to kiss her. Instead, you leaned down and pressed your forehead to hers.

Alexia accepted the contact with a sigh, and then she whispered, “Sorry to say, but you’re stuck with me, too.”

[3]

You got into Barça’s first team—the both of you did. 

There was a moment where you thought it was too good to be true, and that surely the other shoe would drop any time soon. 

And it did.

Maybe deep down, you hoped otherwise; that the universe would prove you wrong. But the universe had a wicked sense of humor, and you would’ve laughed at the cruelty of the joke if anguish had not choked your laughter tight into tears. The taste of achievement was still fresh on your tongue, still on your way to relishing it, before that same sweetness quickly soured to bitter disappointment. 

Not a year after joining Barça’s first team ranks, the news reached you. Our funds were not enough, they said, and they were sorry they had to cut the women’s team. There was no other way, the club didn’t have enough money to keep the team in the league.

The fact that you got a taste of your dream only to have the rug pulled beneath you was maddening, and it made the pain from the fall all the more worse. The news hit you hard, but Alexia took it the worst.

There was a thin line between perseverance and obsession, and some would even go so far to say that the two were opposite sides to the same coin. You know this. And you also know that Alexia had tossed that coin so many times now that she’d probably forgotten what each of those faces meant, progressively confounding one for the other until they were now one and the same.

Looking back now, the signs were all there: you were blinded by your own loss and your admiration for Alexia that you failed to see it or what it really was—a festering obsession. The signs were there in your time with Espanyol, especially during the first few months after the news of Barça’s restructuring broke; they were present in the way Alexia behaved compulsively, always seething with barely concealed hunger, her tenacity both on and off the field magnified to the tens. It waned somewhat during the season but now with the both of you facing another move—to Levante this time—her obsession resurfaced with renewed vigor, corrupting each knot of her muscle to constrict to their breaking point.

“Ale, do you want to come over to mine?” You asked, leaning against the doorframe of Alexia’s bedroom, while Alexia remained hunched over a folder filled with formations, the same one she’d been studying since last match day.

“Why?” She threw over her shoulder, not even turning to look at you.

You picked at your thumb. 

“I don’t know. Just come and sleep over? Mamá and Papá have been asking about you, you know?”

Finally she turned and her eyes found you. They were flat and the skin under them looked darker than they were yesterday. A slight crease was present between her brows, and her lips drooped slightly at the corners, seemingly unimpressed.

“I just saw them yesterday.” 

Okay, maybe that was a lie.

You shrugged it off, “Doesn’t matter. Come visit anyway.”

“I have other things to worry about,” Alexia grumbled with annoyance, turning around to assume her previous position.

“That’s not going to run away from you, Alexia. Come on.”

 Without letting her get another word in, you took her wrist in a gentle grip and tugged her away from her table. Although you had to admit, it was difficult not to remain unfazed when Alexia got like this, especially considering what she’s going through. Another part of your brain was saying the opposite; that it was because of what she’s going through that you had to intervene like this.

“Hey, wait! What are you doing?!” Alexia protested halfway down the stairs.

“Dragging you to my place, of course.”

“What about my things?”

“You have clothes there. Or, you can just wear my stuff.”

“But we have training!”

“It’s only a light session tomorrow.” 

“But—”

“Alexia.” 

You fixed a stern eye at her over your shoulder and she opened her mouth, as if to say something, before she shut it, sighing in defeat.

The both of you just made it down the stairs to see the front door swing open. Eli entered first, Alba trailing in after. At the sight of her family, Alexia strode to where they were to greet them; she kissed Eli on her temple, and Alba on top of her head.

“How’s Papá?”

Eli gave her daughter a small smile, but the skin around her eyes remained taut, weighed down by something inexplicably heavy. 

“He’s stable, love. The same as when you saw him this morning.” Eli’s gaze flicked to you. “Are you girls heading out?”

You nodded.

“I’ll be stealing away Alexia for the night. Is that okay?”

Eli smiled at you, “Of course.”

“We made some food for dinner. They’re on the stove top.”

“Oh, thank you, my girls.” Eli said, hugging you goodbye after you’d put on your shoes. Then she whispered in your ear, “Thank you.”

In response, you only hugged her tighter. Without meaning to, your eyes fleeted over to Alexia who was having a hushed conversation with Alba. By the end of it, Alexia embraced her little sister, placing another kiss atop her head only this time, Alexia’s brows were deeply creased. 

When you pulled away, you said, squeezing Eli’s hands. “Get some rest, Má. I’ll bring her back first thing after practice tomorrow.” 

And with that, you and Alexia headed out. 

The transit to your place was punctuated with a vacuous silence. Alexia sat beside you, less than an arm’s reach away, but her eyes were trained at somewhere far on the horizon; and she, even farther. But you let her be, there was plenty of time to talk later after all. 

By the time you got home, the lights were already off save for the small night light in the hallway so the both of you climbed the stairs on your toes, making sure to avoid that one creaky spot by the corner.

“You can clean up here, I’ll use the other shower. “ You said, jutting your chin to the direction of the shower. 

Alexia only nodded.

When you returned to your room, the bathroom was empty, a fresh glass of water stood by your night stand, and Alexia was nowhere to be seen. You were just about to head downstairs when she padded into your room with a towel draped over her head and a damp spot from her hair on a shirt you recognised to be yours. 

She must’ve seen the question in your eyes because she muttered, “Double-checked the door lock.”

You hummed as she walked past you, back into the bathroom, and you heard the tap run. 

“Thanks for the water,” you said while taking a sip from the glass she put there.

A sound of recognition came from Alexia.

When Alexia finally finished her business in the bathroom, hair slightly ruffled and almost dry, you were already settled in bed, the sheets on her side pulled off in silent invitation. But Alexia remained standing there, by the golden cast of your night lamp, looking a bit lost for reasons you understood.

Softly, you coaxed, “Hey.”

Alexia’s eyes flicked to you and your heart ached at the sight of them so dulled and weary. It took her another moment but she finally slid in next to you, the warmth of her finally arriving home and seeping into your bones. When her feet brushed over your legs as she shifted beside you, you joked with a hushed giggle to lighten the mood, “Get your cold feet away from me.” 

It worked because her lips quirked up slightly, eyes rolling in jest, but not a second later, her eyes dimmed again, and she looked away. You propped yourself up on your elbow to see her clearly but she refused to meet your eyes. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, you whispered, the words cracking under the weight of your emotion.

“Ale, talk to me.”

Silence.

A breath.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” came the hoarse reply.

Breathing deeply, you buried your fingers in her hair to try and soothe her. And again, you spoke in whispers. 

“You know, it’s okay to grieve about it, to be angry about it. You don’t have to be strong all the time, Alexia.”

Her eyes flashed with something red then and she growled.

“And what will grieving get me? The way through is forward and only forward. Do you think the world will stop to give you enough time to grieve? To be angry?”

She continued, each word exhaled with urgency. 

“No. The moment you stop, you will be left behind. And I can’t stop. Not now. Especially not now.”

“Having a moment for yourself isn’t stopping. You can’t expect yourself to go on like this forever. Sometimes, you have to do what’s good for yourself, Alexia.”

A scoff.

“It doesn’t matter what’s good for me. What I need is to get back to Barça. Then, and only then, will I feel at ease.”

“At the expense of what, then? Killing your passion for the sport by making it your duty?”

Alexia startled you when she ripped herself away from you, sitting up so abruptly that the headboard banged against the wall. And when she glared down at you, you found a look in her eyes similar to that of a desperate animal’s; a look where the distinction between fear and anger blurred into something wild. 

Then, through her teeth, she hissed in a low voice.

“It is my duty! It always has been. Don’t you see? It has always been more than a sport to me. It’s not the same for you and I don’t expect you to understand because you—”

She stopped herself, facing forward in an instant, pinching the bridge of her nose as she setted her arms over her folded knees. 

Slowly, you rose, and only the sound of sheets settling around your waist filled the air. This momentary reprieve was mainly for Alexia’s sake—she was overwhelmed, that was clear to see—but maybe you needed a moment yourself because what she said hurt you. Still, you soldiered on because this was for Alexia. 

She tensed upon your touch, her muscles rippled beneath your palm as you dragged it from the small of her back, tracing the contours of her spine to the nape of her neck, but by the time your hand finally settled on her opposite shoulder, some of the tension had melted away.

“No, you’re right, I don’t understand,” you began, voice strained. “I don’t understand why you’re so adamant in destroying yourself. This—this shutting your family out with what’s happening with you. Your mother is worried sick. She’s asking about how you are, Alexia, do you know that? Your own mother!” 

Alexia released a weary sigh and then said in an even wearier tone.

“She has no need to worry.”

You almost scoffed at that, but stopped yourself although you couldn’t help the severity that bled into your next words.

“How could she not when you’re working yourself to the bone? Tell me, how do you expect us not to worry?” 

Silence. Then the murmur of folding fabric when Alexia curled into herself, head buried in the arms folded over her knees. In that cavern of her own making, a ragged breath echoed, followed by the shuddering of muscles. You ached at the state of her, and there was a lump in your throat that you couldn’t swallow. 

And barely above a whisper, you breathed, “You cannot carry the whole weight of the world by yourself. You’re not Atlas, Alexia. Let your family in.”

“Ale,” you tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. Red eyes peered from the darkness of her arms and it broke you, but you had to plead, “Talk to me. Please…”

“I–I’m scared,” she choked out finally. “He’s getting worse. It’s the second attack this month and I—”

Her fingers dug into her arms when she tightened her grip.

“I thought winning the Copa de la Reina last year would give us enough exposure but it wasn’t enough. So, I wanted to do it again this season to prove that we belong in Barça but instead, we lost to them.” A ragged breath. “And now we’re going to Levante. I just–”

She looked up at you, lips quivering with a whimper, “I just want us to go home.”

“Oh, Alexia.” 

Without saying another word, you put your arms around her, forehead pressed close against her ear and the hitch in her breathing resounded loud and clear.

“It’s frustrating, isn’t it, how far we seem from getting back?” Alexia’s back tensed in answer but you only hugged tighter. “But that’s not true at all.”

You felt Alexia lift her head and you moved away just enough to see how she eyed you with confusion. You gave her a small smile as you grazed your knuckles over her tear-stained cheek.

“On top of your club activities, your national performance has been nothing short of exemplary. Those matter. And with all the articles they’ve been writing about you, it’s only a matter of time now.” Brightening your tone a little, you added with a playful smile, “you probably won’t finish your season with Levante before Barça gets their hands on you.”

A corner of her lips lifted up upon your remark so you pushed on.

“I know it’s not the same as being in Barça, but what you’ve achieved so far has got to count for something, Alexia. Your father… he’s so, so proud of you.” Your tone shifted, now firm. “And I doubt he’d be happy to know that his daughter is pushing her body past the point of injury to get into Barça. You know your mother and sister have been covering your ass, right? Uh-huh, yeah, I thought so.”

“You need to let yourself breathe,” you kissed her temple, then her shoulder. When your eyes met again, you found a soft look in hers that reminded you of when you were younger. Smoothing her hair again, you asked, “Can you do that, Alexia? Not for us, but for yourself?”

Alexia regarded you for a long, silent moment. Then she closed her eyes, opened them a breath later, and nodded, her lips curling up to a sincere smile. In response, you couldn’t help but grin back at her.

Sensing that her mood had elevated, you placed one last kiss on her temple before you reached over her, towards the lamp to turn it off, leaving your room illuminated by the blue glow of the moon. Alexia needed no guidance to rest her head against your chest and immediately, you wrapped your arms around her. She sighed deep in the crook of your neck and you were filled with a sense of belonging—of wholeness.

Your eyes fluttered shut to the rhythm of  Alexia’s heartbeat pressed against your side.

“I’m sorry”, came the whisper.

“What for?”

“I shouldn’t have said what I did, about you not understanding. That was wrong, and I know all of this means everything to you like the way it means everything to me.”

“I appreciate that, Alexia. Don’t worry about it.” 

“And I’m sorry for—”

“Ale,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss on her crown, “you don’t have to apologise for anything.”

A pause before a deep exhale heated up your neck.

“Thank you, then.”

You hummed, already halfway to dreaming. And with one last reassuring squeeze at her hip, you found yourself murmuring, “I got you. Good night, Ale.”

“Good night,” Alexia said with a kiss to your neck and you slept with a smile on your lips.

[4]

“Alexia! Can you please—Shit!” 

It was too late. 

The box on top of the one you were carrying slid and fell, and all you could do was cringe as it spilled all of your toiletries by the front door. 

“Oops, sorry.”

You turned to Alexia with a glare of slight annoyance, but when you saw her sheepish expression, with the corners of her mouth pulled down and an eye twisted to a flinch, you let it go. With a roll of your eyes and a slight shake of your head, you signaled for her to proceed ahead as you held the door open with your weight. Once inside, she settled her boxes down on the tiled floor, letting out a small grunt as she did so, before she took yours. 

You’d just finished picking up the toiletries when Alexia asked, “That’s the last of it, yes?”

Turning to face her, you saw her wipe the sweat off her temples before settling her hands on her hips. She scanned the would-be living room occupied by some stacks of boxes. Apart from the couch and mattresses, almost everything else needed to be unpacked and organised.

You placed the toiletries on the nearest counter and made a beeline for the couch. On your way, you patted her back and replied. 

“Yep. Just let me take five, and then we can open ‘em up.”

You face-planted on the couch with a groan, which then turned to a sigh not a second later. Those boxes took more from you than you’d anticipated, making the stiffness of the couch feel as soft as clouds to your bones. 

The strain from your eyes began to dissipate the moment your eyes fluttered shut, and you could feel the peace that awaited you in that velvet darkness when you were ripped back to wakefulness the moment a warm, crushing weight pressed onto your spine. 

Alexia had taken it upon herself to drape herself over you like you were the couch itself. 

“What—Alexia!” You yelped, “Get off me!” 

But of course, she did the exact opposite.

“Why? I was just getting comfortable,” Alexia deadpanned. 

She shifted on your back and she at least had the decency to prevent her elbows from digging into your back as she did. The next thing you knew, her front followed the curve of your back, blanketing you in her warmth, while her arms wrapped loosely around your waist.

Your heart thundered in your chest and you tried not to think too hard about it so you snorted out, “I hope you’re comfortable.”

“Since you asked, yes. I very much am, thank you.” 

“You’re so annoying.” 

“I carried those boxes for you.” 

“You didn’t have to if you didn’t make me drop the toiletries.”

“I told you to tape up the box, but you didn’t listen to me, so whose fault is it exactly?”

You rolled your eyes. She was right, but you weren’t about to tell her that. 

“You’re impossible.”

“Impossibly right, yes.”

See? You didn’t have to tell her. 

You scoffed, “Why do I even put up with you?”

“Because you love me,” Alexia said in a matter-of-fact tone that made your heart jump. “Now shush. Let’s nap for a bit and then unpack.”

Alexia yawned, snuggling closer into you. If she heard the way your heart pounded, she didn’t comment on it. As you drifted into a warm slumber, there was weight that pressed against your chest—a realization of some sort—but about what, you didn’t know. 

Only after you woke to find Alexia had unpacked the boxes containing essential items and ordered a bag-full of takeaways; only after the both of you finished dining on paper plates, crossed-legged on the tiled, living room floor, laughing with your mouths full when Alexia made a mess of her food because of her inability to use chopsticks; only after Alexia found her Polaroid camera and took photos of the two of you, her arm slung casually over your shoulder, her lips pressed against your cheek. Then, and only then, did you recognise what that weight was for what it was. 

You knew then: you were utterly and irrevocably gone.

You were in love.

And you could only pray that the heat from your cheeks wouldn’t sell you out. 

[5]

With all the changes that came with moving shelters and clubs, there was no time to think about home. Between getting used to your new club schedules, being acquainted with your new coaches and teammates, and familiarising yourself with the local area, your mind had no energy left to ruminate by the end of the day. And the difference between staying over at Alexia’s—or vice versa—for a few nights and living under the same roof together for the foreseeable future became increasingly obvious as you settled in your apartment in Buñol. 

It was all new but the both of you managed and even somehow established a sort of routine. While you did most of the cooking and half of the cleaning, Alexia did the groceries and, thanks to her natural affinity for the sun—her words, not yours—she insisted on doing the laundry. You teased her about it but more often than not, her weather predictions proved accurate to the forecast, saving the both of you the trouble of dealing with damp clothes. 

But as routine fell into place, so did the yearning for home.

The thing about missing home was that it brought on a different kind of longing. It was the kind that burrowed deep, the kind that dug a gaping hole in your chest and left you at a loss for how to fill it. It provoked the desire to turn back the hands of time, live in a memory, and step back into a moment already gone by. 

Yes, there was a sense of freedom that came with living apart from your family, and sure the distance between Buñol and Mollet was only a three-hour drive or a five-hour train ride away. All of those things are true, but you’d be lying if you said being away from home didn’t feel heavy. 

No more was the comforting presence of your parents at hand nor the jovial company of Alexia’s family nearby; it was just you and Alexia.

And the world never felt bigger than it was now. 

You were lucky, though, to have Alexia with you. She was a piece of home that you took with you, and just having her by your side helped ease the ache somehow. But you have to admit, living with her brought on a different kind of pain. 

Ever since you realized just how deep your feelings for her ran, being around her had only gotten more difficult. Everything and everywhere reminded you of her, and everything she did would send a jolt to your heart that left you breathless. Something as simple as her running her fingers through her hair, or a small smile; a brush against your cheek, a hand against the small of your back—you were sure you were this close to going mad.

The intensity and frequency of these… stutters had only seemed to increase by the day, and frankly, it was beginning to scare you. That, and the questions that had been nagging you lately.

What would Alexia do if she found out that you liked her way more than a friend should? That you liked women? Could Alexia like women? She probably didn’t. She would hate you for this, wouldn’t she? What about your parents? How would you even go about telling them? Would they still love you? What if—

The sound of the key being slotted into the lock, followed by the opening and closing of the door cut your thoughts short. And then came a soft sound, barely audible.

“Alexia?” 

You called out but there was no response so you padded over to the living room. Just before the end of the corridor a small movement caught your eye. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips even if you tried.

“What—”

The kitten mewled softly again, rubbing itself against the beige tone of the walls as it took you in with those large, yellow eyes. Its coat looked bright and pristine, nearly as white as the petals of the tree heath flowers that bloomed at home in spring. The same flowers that filled the garden of your home with their sweetness. 

“Hey, there. How did you get in here?” You cooed, crouching slowly, before you reached out your hand towards the kitten. It took a cautious step back but you waited patiently, keeping your hand where it was. A moment later, it seemed to have found the courage, stepping forward tentatively to sniff at your finger, before it licked your knuckle. Then it ducked down, nuzzling its head against your palm, its eyes closing from the contact. 

Warmth flooded your chest and you whispered, “Oh, you’re so adorable!”

“She’s yours.”

Your eyes flicked up to find Alexia leaning her weight against the wall, her arms crossed, head tilted slightly to the side; her eyes lidded with something you couldn’t quite recognise but you felt their warmth. The soft smile on her lips made her face look radiant and beneath her gaze, you couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your cheeks.

As an excuse to hide your face, you dipped down your chin to pick the kitten who only yawned in response. 

“Mine?” You asked as you stood up and walked over to where Alexia was, stopping just an arm’s length away.

Alexia only hummed in agreement, her smile still as soft as ever.

At that, you reached and draped your free arm around her neck, whispering against her ear, “Thank you.”

She moved, finally, wrapping her arms around your waist to pull you closer.

“You’re welcome.” Her words, murmured though as they were, curled through the smile you knew she still wore and made their home in your heart. 

“What are you going to name her?” Alexia asked.

“Nona.”

“Nona?”

You hummed in confirmation. You pulled away just enough to make space to look at Nona, and you tried hard not to focus too much on how Alexia had settled her hands on your hips. 

“Mamá, Papá, me” you began, putting up a digit on your free hand as you listed each one, “You, Alba, Eli, Jaume, Guille…”

“And Nona,” Alexia finished for you, smiling down at Nona. Alexia met your eyes again.

“Your family of nine?”

“Mine,” you nodded, “And yours, too.” 

Alexia beamed down at you but then she scrunched her nose. 

“Does Guille need to be there?”

“Alexia!” 

[6]

It was raining when Alexia told you.

On a damp Monday night, a few months following your move to Levante—after the both of you found an apartment in Buñol, and after that fateful day of realisation—she said something that changed everything. 

Throughout the day, you couldn’t help but notice how strange Alexia was behaving. She’d twisted and fiddled with the hem of her jersey during today’s practice enough that she’d torn a hole through one spot. She’d twirled that loose lock of her hair so many times that you’d already lost count, and on the drive home, more than once, sped through a yellow sign. Even now, she was silent beside you as she helped cook the meal for you two tonight when usually, she would have gone over what happened at practice twice at this point. 

And at the rate she was going, she’d end up gnawing off the skin of her lower lip. 

“Why don’t you go ahead and clean up first?” You said as casually as you could, taking both of your plates off the table and moving towards the sink.

Alexia eyed you. 

“Is everything alright?” She asked. You caught a sight of her over your shoulder, sitting up, more alert than a second ago. 

“No, nothing. Why do you ask that?”

A pregnant pause.

“Because you normally let me help with the dishes.”

You shrugged, turning back to the sink. “Seriously, Alexia. It’s nothing. You just look tired. Now go so I can shower. We can put on AHS after.”

Another pause and then finally, you heard the scrape of her chair against the tiles.

“Alright,” she mumbled before her footsteps receded.

Much later, when you’d finished cleaning up and showered, the two of you wounded up on the couch, wrapped in each other with an episode of American Horror Story playing in the background. Alexia’s head was tucked in the crook of your neck while you played with a loose lock of her hair when you finally asked her.

“Are you ready to tell me what you’ve been worrying about all day, or should I keep pretending that I haven’t noticed?” 

You kept your tone light, almost teasing, because you had a feeling that whatever Alexia was about to say had weight to it. And surely enough, as soon as the question had left your mouth did Alexia stiffen against you and her breathing stilled. It took her another moment to pull away, untangling herself from you, before she reclined against the couch. 

Without so much as looking at you, she countered, “Could you hate me?”

The question jarred you and you couldn’t help but frown in confusion. What kind of question was that? You looked at her—searching for answers as to why she would ask such a thing—but Alexia kept her eyes fixed to the TV while the flashing images made shadows play on the smooth neutrality of her forehead and cheeks. You found no answer, so you replied truthfully. 

“No. Disappointed maybe, but hate? I can’t think of anything that would make me hate you.”

At that, her shoulders curled forward, arms crossing over her chest, and her chin dipped down so low it almost looked uncomfortable. 

She said softly, “Just think about it.”

Silence settled—heavily. 

You gnawed your lip, turning over everything in your head, as you tried desperately to come up with something. But nothing.

“Honestly, Alexia, unless you killed someone, I really can’t think of anything else.”

“I—” Alexia started but a choke cut off the rest of it. 

The sound came out so suddenly that it seemed to reverberate, bouncing off the walls and resounded loud in your ears. You sat up, alert, fully facing Alexia who now had her hands over her face, shielding her eyes from your view. She drew in a breath, and what she released was something shaky. 

You’d never seen her like this before, and you’d faced more than a handful of adversities together. What could possibly be making her hurt like this? Your gut twisted at the sight of her and you were filled with an overwhelming urge to take her in your arms. Instead, you settled for a light touch to her knee.

“Alexia,” you began softly, “What is it?”

Under the shield of her hand, you saw her lips quiver. Then a tear ran down her chin.

You ached at the sight but you remained silent.

“I’m—” Her lips twisted to a grimace. “I—I don’t know how it happened I just—”

Another pause.

“I like women.”

For a moment, the air stilled; almost like a vacuum had swallowed up all sounds. And then something swelled: blood rushed into your ears, and, as if life had broken a shell, a flood washed over you, filling each and every bone; and it felt a lot like hope. 

The raw sob that escaped Alexia’s throat broke you from your epiphany. She must’ve misunderstood your silence because now, she’d curled even further into herself, palms digging into her sockets. You shook yourself, mentally scolding yourself for getting distracted, before you moved closer to her.

“Oh, Alexia.” She flinched away when she felt your arms around her but you only clung tighter. “Thank you, Alexia, for trusting me with this. I want you to know that you don’t have to hide from me, that this doesn’t change anything no matter how that voice in your head might tell you otherwise. You’re still Alexia, and I—I love you all the same. I don’t hate you, I promise, and I won’t. I’ll always be here.”

When you whispered those words into her ear, she finally sagged into your embrace, turning her head so it rested, again, in the crook of your neck where she released a sob. This time, it sounded more from relief than from grief. 

There, on the couch, you held her until she fell asleep. 

“You know,” you whispered in the dark, tucking a lock of Alexia’s hair behind her ear long after she’d fallen asleep. Alexia didn’t stir, and you continued to no one in particular, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

And there with your whole world in your arms, you finally allowed yourself the luxury to hope.

[7]

When you were seven, just a few months before you met Alexia, an idea dawned on you. Sick and tired of the kid’s pool, with its small and, if you were being honest, slightly unkempt water, the large one next door offered freedom—a tantalizing concept for a child. You stood at one end of that pool and found a face of determination reflected back at you. You were going to do it; you would swim across the length of the pool and make it to the other side. 

And then, you jumped in.

It took about a minute or two before your muscles started burning, hardening to a cramp with every stroke, and yet the other side didn’t look any closer. That was when it sank in; the pool was far too large. There was a brief moment when you gasped for air and remembered to swim towards the nearest edge, just like your father taught you, but by that point it was already too late.

Water rushed into your nose and mouth, bringing stinging hopelessness in their wake, clogging your throat with a muffling silence that stifled your scream.

Your father barely caught you in time.

Yes, you remembered all too well that burn in your lungs. 

If that pool was a frozen lake, what would drowning feel like? 

In Barcelona, the lakes never froze in winter. Even the westerly winds that brought the Atlantic squalls slithering under each door in the city in cold February weren’t enough to make the chill settle in. The only time your bones truly felt the bitter meaning of winter was when you’d gone to Norway to attend a relative’s funeral, and the occasion did nothing to lessen the cold. It was also the first time you’d ever stepped foot on ice, and the fear that lanced through you at the sound of the first crack—seemingly almost like a thunder out of the blue—left you rooted to the spot, fearful that a breath could put you under.

Waiting for death felt just like that; like walking on a slate of ice. 

And the aftermath? 

A drowning of a different kind.

Every phone call was a step on that thin slate of ice; every step a space closer to certainty, each one a crack on that fragile surface, another moment closer to a falling in. The thing was, death was as true as the ice giving way but no matter how inevitable the end may be, or how slow the unfurling of that mortal coil may seem, the force of the fall was no less devastating. The ice would shatter and there would be a split-second when you’d feel suspended, held by a single thread of hope for one last miracle—the only miracle that mattered—but there was no saving you from the freezing waters. 

And nobody ever told you about how quickly you would sink under; about how the cold would bite their way down to the bones while your blood sang that familiar rhythm of life, a bitter reminder of the clear division between past and present—the antecedent and the aftermath; and just how painful it would be to be stuck in-between remembering what once was and what could have been.

In that space, in that frigid depth, no amount of screaming nor air could prevent you from drowning. Without the arms of a father to save you, how could you not drown?

And the worst part?

There was no bottom to grief; you either float or sink in that frozen lake.

And Alexia sank. 

[8]

Days passed, weeks, then months; the world kept turning. Life demanded you to be present and compelled you to move forward like everyone else. And yet still, even after changing everything in its wake, grief lingered as it always did. 

There were still times when you’d catch Alexia turn from every mirror, eyes casted down almost out of fear of what she’d see. How could you look at your reflection when every bit of skin there held the reminders of what you’d lost? Every reminder brought with it a memory, and what were memories if not a mouth full of teeth? It was a mouth that took every opportunity to bare its teeth, to gnaw at that hole in your chest until the edges were raw again—like they never healed to begin with. Again and again, it bit; its teeth, painting themselves red.

But if anything could transcend time itself, it was the resilience of the human spirit. Even if her father was never far from her mind, Alexia pressed forward; now for two hearts instead of one. 

Winter ended finally, and the sun rose again. And when summer arrived, so did the news. 

“Llorens spoke with me today,” Alexia spoke over the running of the tap. You looked at her over your shoulder, she was leaning against the frame of the kitchen door. She said the next part in a tone so soft that you barely caught it.

“He said… They asked me to rejoin Barça.”

Your eyes widened and it only took you a moment before you ran to her, wrapping your arms around Alexia’s neck, while Alexia returned the embrace by putting her arms around your waist. 

“Holy shit, Alexia! That’s amazing!” You practically screamed into her ear. Pulling away to look at her, you found pride shining in her eyes but for reasons you couldn’t quite understand, there was a weight that burdened the corners of her lips. You knew just how much this meant to her, getting back into Barça, and it worried you that she wasn’t celebrating like you’d expected her to.

You asked gently, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

At that, she sighed heavily, tightening her hold around your waist as she did. She gnawed at her lower lip, brows creasing.

“You haven’t heard anything from them?”

“No,” you admitted, ignoring the twinge in your chest. “It doesn’t matter, Alexia. This is your opportunity to go back. When are you due to leave?”

“I—I told them I’d get back to them tomorrow.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

“What! Alexia, what’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t want to leave you alone.”

Finally, you recognised what it was that was casting its familiar shadows in her eyes: worry. Although you were grateful that she was, it was completely unnecessary and borderline irrational. She shouldn’t throw away what she worked hard for because you couldn’t perform at the same level, and no way in hell would you let her feel bad for your own inadequacy. 

You took her face into your hands, looking into her eyes as you enunciated each word slowly.

“Alexia, listen to me. You will meet with Llorens first thing tomorrow, and you will put that pen to paper, do you hear me? And then you will leave Levante without me—” when she opened her mouth, as if to protest, you pressed a finger to her lips. “You will leave Levante without me, and you will play for Barça come this season. There are no ‘buts’ here, Alexia. You have to do this. You owe yourself that much.”

Alexia remained quiet but she looked at you with large eyes that made your heart ache the way it always did for her. 

And then, “What about you?”

“I will work twice as hard. And I will meet you there,” you whispered, losing yourself in the depth of her eyes. “I promise.”

Alexia nodded and slowly, a smile made its way onto her lips.

“You better.” She mumbled. Then she added playfully, “Now get your hands off of my face, you’ve made it all wet.”

You flashed her a devilish grin before you wiped one of your hands down her face. 

[9]

It wasn’t until a month after your first game with Barça that you saw Diana again. 

With her line of work, it was no surprise that she was an incredibly busy person. That meant her stays in Barcelona were brief enough that she couldn’t make it to any friendly hangouts the way your other friends’ partners could, only ever having the time for Alexia which was the most important thing. So when Alexia messaged the group chat last night that she and Diana would be lunching with you, Patri, Tori, and Mapi today, everyone received the news with barely hidden enthusiasm. 

And this was how you found yourself sitting at the head of the table with Patri sitting on the other end, Alexia and Diana to your left with Alexia’s arm draped casually over the back of Diana’s chair, while Mapi and Tori sat to your right. As you all waited for your food to arrive, you engaged in a light and friendly conversation. Mapi and Tori were a lethal duo when it came to jokes, almost having all of you keel over from laughter, causing the eyes of the other patrons in the restaurant to flit to your table, and you were sure you saw barely hidden amusement on the face of the waiter that served you. 

Lunch was going well—for your part especially—with all things considered. So you took this time to appreciate Alexia and Diana together just like this because you never got the chance to. And it was clear that the both of them made quite the pair; so beautiful that they almost looked untouchable. They kept their displays of affection sparse and yet the smallest of gestures held a thousand words. In Diana’s presence, Alexia seemed so happy and she had an air about her so light she was almost like the sun. 

You couldn’t help it, you smiled at the sight. Seeing Alexia like this was enough for you, and you knew this. She deserved this. If only Patri could stop eyeing you with worry, you could keep pretending that twinge in your chest didn’t exist. 

Everything was going well, but the universe—as it seemed to become accustomed to lately—was adamant to prove you wrong. Or, maybe you should’ve just crushed your feelings under foot once and for all. It was when the food arrived that things took a turn for the worse. 

When the last dish was delivered by the waiter, Tori, Patri, and Diana fell in a conversation. Mapi, you spied, was not so subtly texting someone beneath the table—Ingrid, you guessed, by the way her eyes shone and her nose crinkled in delight. Alexia on the other hand was left to fend for herself… against her food. 

After all this time, Alexia still couldn’t eat properly with chopsticks. It was definitely the bulkness of her hands that made her clumsy with the delicate tools; you’d told her as much before. You bit your tongue before you could tell her that again. Instead, you teased her.

“Are you playing with your food?”

Alexia glared at you but still, color rose to her cheeks as she grumbled. 

“Shut up. You know using these things is difficult for me.”

“Stop sulking. Besides, I already taught you before.” You rolled your eyes. Then you instructed, “Open your palm.”

She pouted but she did what you asked anyway.

“Your hands are too big so you have to hold them at the very end. Let the bottom one rest in the crook of your thumb, yes, that’s it. And hold the top like you’re writing with a pen. Loosen up a bit, you’re too tense.”

You adjusted the placement of the chopsticks slightly, “Just close your thumb over the sticks and move your—That’s it! You got it, you got it.”

With a triumphant smile, Alexia finally succeeded at her attempt to pick up her food. And when her smile curled over the food she put in her mouth, a warmth flooded the cavity of your chest. The sparkle in her eyes just then somehow made you feel like a teenager again. 

You didn’t know what it was that drew your attention to her, but your gaze flitted over to Diana. You weren’t sure what you expected; maybe that she was still talking with Patri or Tori… only she wasn’t. She was staring at you with a face set in a stoicism so neutral—her lips drawn to a careful line—that you had this unsettling feeling that she was everything but impassive. Her eyes betrayed her the most: they were sharp, barely narrowed, and there was an attentiveness in them that made you feel transparent—exposed—as if she could see right through you; as if she’d found something. 

A chill ran through you, and you shuddered internally.

Quickly, you averted your eyes back down to your meal. Developing an excessive interest in your food, you receded into yourself and tried to school your face to what you hope was impartial nonchalance. A little later when you finally felt brave enough to chance a look at Diana, you saw her talking to Patri and Tori again, laughing and smiling as if the moment between the two of you never happened.

You relaxed and you found breathing easy again. 

Maybe you were just being paranoid.

But really, you should’ve known better.

[10]

Time, with its infamous predisposition to fly, had snuck up on you. 

A blink of an eye found you stepping out of a plane in the middle of August and the next thing you knew, December only had days to breathe. Ending the year at the top of La Liga, together with your clean sheets, was nothing short of a relief. It was a testament to how you’ve integrated yourself with the team so far, but you knew enough that this shouldn’t call for complacency. In fact, it demanded the opposite; you needed to work harder especially with the match against Lyon looming closer in the horizon. 

For now though, rest was due. 

Most of your teammates had either flown themselves home or somewhere far warmer than Barcelona’s dropping temperature. For those who stayed, like you, you needed to find a way to amuse yourselves without freezing. Tonight, it seemed that the club was the unanimous choice: what better way to stay warm and have fun than to get drunk and dance? 

That was how you found yourself under flashing lights nursing your own glass while you watched the rest of your team get their freaks on from the bar. You knew Patri was already four shots down—you all had only been here an hour; Mapi and Ingrid were getting a little too cozy in a secluded corner, which you couldn’t fault them for since it was Ingrid’s last day in the city before she had to go home; Alexia had vanished with Diana to do who knew what, while Aitana and Ona were losing it on the dance floor. 

Aitana and Ona spotted you hanging out at the bar so they began to wave you over with enthusiasm. You shook your head at the display, smiling, and made to move off the counter you were leaning on when a tap on your shoulder caught your attention. But before you could turn to see who it was, a familiar voice pierced through the music. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Standing behind you was a woman; the stewardess that ushered you off your plane. Out of her work clothes and the dull setting of a plane, her beauty shone through untarnished. Gone was the sleek hairdo and instead, she’d opted to leave her hair down. Her short hair barely grazed her collarbones, you noted, and as you traced their outline, you found the piercing in her sternum glinting in silent invitation. She was wearing a simple black dress that revealed just enough of her chest to entice, the thin fabric of it accentuating the curves of her waist, and it stopped just halfway down the length of her thighs to reveal the intricate lines of floral tattoos on her side. 

Finally catching yourself, you tore your eyes away and found her gaze. What you found reflected in them was amusement and you tried to stop your cheeks from burning. 

As casually as you could, you said, “Oh, hey, it’s you. I… actually never caught your name.”

“Micah,” she replied, extending out a hand. You took it as you told her yours. She leaned on the bar, waved the bartender over who gave her the drink she asked for, and took a sip. Then she turned back to you. 

“You know, I never expected to see you again. And in a gay club, of all places.”

“Why not a gay club?” You asked with a small laugh.

She shrugged, one corner of her mouth quirking up almost sheepishly.

“I may have searched your name up after I met you. No history of relationships, just multiple pictures of you with the same guy. I thought he’s your boyfriend, so.”

“Is it a guy with curly hair?”

“Yeah.”

At that you let out another small laugh.

“That’s Guille, my best friend. He’s like a brother.”

“Oh.” Micah’s cheeks flushed. 

You gave her a grin, “Yeah. But just to clarify, I am, in fact, into women. Exclusively.”

As if a switch has been flipped, Micah’s demeanour shifted, eyes now smouldering. The change affected you in ways you didn’t anticipate and with your slight height over her, it became difficult to keep your eyes where they should be, especially when the silver glint of her piercing tempted your eyes downwards. But just as the alcohol had thinned your blood, your self-control frayed all the same; your eyes roamed down to her cleavage which you admired briefly, before you met her gaze again.

That seemed to be the signal Micah was looking for because she stepped into your space, her drink now sitting forgotten on the counter. She dragged her fingers up your arm, all the way to your exposed collarbone where she traced the skin there while she watched you with dark eyes, her plump lip between her teeth. 

You shivered; she was so close now that the heat of her body washed over you. 

“Really? Prove it, then.” Micah whispered, ghosting her lips over yours.

You leaned forward when she pulled back slightly, as if magnetized to her lips. Then you asked, “How?”

“Dance with me.”

She dragged you to the dancefloor and you let yourself be swept away in the sea of bodies moving to the same rhythm. And then the both of you danced, her body against yours, your hands tracing her outlines as you pulled her closer as she did the same to you. 

Time blurred into a singularity after that but it existed again when, at one point, Micah took your cheek into her palm to pull you down for a kiss. Her lips were searing hot when they branded yours that you couldn’t help but gasp and moan into them, a sound which Micah gladly swallowed. 

It had been a while since you’d been touched and you didn’t realise just how much you missed it: the skim of skin over skin, the languidness of your blood turning to molten rush; how you missed the deprivation of air from your lungs and the delicious ache that came with it. And how you missed touching another. Your hands sought the exposed skin of her back, relishing the softness beneath your palms as you settled them there, respectfully just above her ass, to pull her in, flushed to your body.

She sighed and she looped her arms around your neck; deeper, hotter.

And in the heat, you lost yourself. 

You couldn’t remember how the both of you made it to your apartment, only that she ended up on top of you, head between your legs as you gasped out her name in the dark. And when she braced herself against her elbow, her other hand working you over the edge once more, you couldn’t help but note how beautiful she was with her curtain of brown hair, her lips slightly parted, eyes shining in the dark.

And when you came on her fingers with her lips on yours, you had a nagging feeling that this felt a lot like when you were nineteen. 

[11]

Clutching your head, you tried to soothe the remnants of your hangover as you headed over the door. You squinted at the light that shone through when you opened it and when the blob in front of you assumed a semblance of familiarity, you croaked out a question.

“Alexia? What’re you doing here?”

“Wow, you look like you’ve been hit by a truck.” Alexia teased but when you glared at her, she finally answered your question. She lifted her hand and that was when you noticed what she was holding. “Got your jacket. You left it at the club last night.”

You blinked at her, eyes still squinted, and enunciated each word slowly. “You drove all the way here. To drop off my jacket.”

She nodded.

“And you couldn’t have waited until dinner tonight?”

“Nope. The jacket was of utmost priority, obviously. Second priority, of course, is to check that you haven’t dropped dead yet. Third, to make sure you show up at dinner on time.” Alexia stepped back and gave you a once-over. “And by the looks of it, you need more than just a check up.” 

“Fuck you.” 

At that, her brows only creased as she threw her head back to laugh. 

“Rough morning, huh?” 

“I’m glad you find my hangover amusing.” You grunted, turning to shuffle back into the kitchen to make the coffee you were about to prepare before a clown interrupted you. “Close the door, you’re letting all the heat out.”

“Okay, Grumpy.” Alexia said behind you and you heard the door close. A rustle of fabric, and then, “Go drink some water and maybe then you can actually hold a conversation.”

You rolled your eyes even though she couldn’t see your face. 

“Shut up. I’ve only been awake for an hour.” 

“Sure.” Alexia dragged out her answer like she believed what you just said—she didn’t.

You turned on the coffee machine and pressed the button for a double shot. The sound of whirring filled the air.

“You want some coffee?” You asked, looking at Alexia over your shoulder who you found was not-so-subtly craning her neck to look down the hall. When she saw you looking at her, Alexia flashed you a questioning look.

“Are we alone or… ?” Alexia trailed off but before she could finish the question, you nodded. She walked to the counter and picked an apple from the fruit bowl.

“Oh, okay, good. And no, thanks, I already had a shot before I left home this morning.” 

You returned to your coffee, placing the cup aside so you could prepare the milk. 

Beside you, you heard the running of the tap and then a rustling of clothes followed by a slight thump. From the corner of your eye, you spied Alexia leaning against the counter. 

You just finished pouring the milk into your cup when you heard Alexia hum before the unmistakable bite to the flesh of an apple. Lifting the cup, you took a sip and welcomed the bitterness of caffeine on your tongue. 

“You know,” Alexia started, “you never told me you liked women.”

You froze. 

The lingering euphoria from last night—along with the excitement from Micah’s proposal for a next time when she left early this morning—immediately vanished. There was something about the nonchalant way that Alexia got you; it cut you deep. And the wounds you thought were long healed now bled through their stitches. A dot of coffee stained the white countertop, followed by another, and before your cup slipped from your grip, you put it down and pressed your shaking hands flat on the countertop. 

“What?” Your tone was tame but you were everything but. Pressure rose in your veins because how dared she. How dared she.

“I’m not mad or anything, I’m just surprised that’s all.” Alexia laughed lightly but the sound grated at your ears. 

“Was that a recent development? Did you find that out in the States?” Then she continued with a bit of guilt seeping through her voice. “If you found out before you moved to Angel City, I hope I never made you feel as though you couldn’t share that with me. And if I did, then I’m—”

“Please, don’t insult me, Alexia.”

As if finally detecting the ice in your tone, you saw her head turn towards you from the corner of your eye, but you made no move to look at her. 

 “I’m not insulting you. It’s just–I’m a terrible friend for never seeing the signs and that I couldn’t be there for you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You scoffed but it sounded more like a choked sob than anything. The world blurred before you and you watched as your tears mixed with the coffee stains on the counter. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Came Alexia’s concerned voice before you heard a rustling of clothes, and then the touch to your shoulder. The reaction of your body was visceral: you stumbled back as you slapped her hand away as if she’d burnt you.

“Don’t touch me!” Heat pricked around the skin where she’d touch you, and you felt as if something was crawling beneath. “Get out.”

“What?”

Finally, you looked her in the eye and the force of the movement made your tears fall. Alexia stood there frozen, mouth agape, eyes wide and brows knotted in horror. You couldn’t care less; looking at her hurt and you wanted her out of your apartment—now. 

“I said leave.”

Alexia ran a frustrated hand through her hair and she pleaded, “Tell me what I did!”

“Get out, Alexia!” 

She opened her mouth, stopped midway, and finally shook her head. With one last look at you, she turned for the door but before she stepped out, she turned back to you. She sighed then said in a small voice.

“I don’t know what happened but I’m sorry anyway. I… I’ll see you tonight.”

With that, the door closed. At the click of the lock, you slid down to the floor; your back against the surface of the cabinets with Alexia’s half-eaten apple by your feet. 

She really did forget, didn’t she? And you were the only one who remembered because between the two of you, it was only you who cared enough to latch onto the memory. She didn’t care, and you doubted she ever did to begin with. Why did you think otherwise? Why?

Your face fell into your hands, and you sobbed. 

Stupid.

You were so fucking stupid. 

[walpu]

hii, first of all, sorry for my bad english

this may sound weird, but lately i've been thinking of aventurine turning in a cat. like, for some strange reason (maybe during a mission), he turned in a cute little cat. and since reader doesn't know he's a cat, he feels free to enjoy all reader's affection, and maybe to let his emotions win and cry while being caressed. and then he turns human and he's crying enough to fill a swimming pool. idk if i explained well :(

tysm, i love love love your works!! ❤︎

AWWW THIS IS SUCH A CUTE REQUEST and don't worry your English is perfectly fine! It's not my native language as well so I get the struggle tho

I love making my faves cry so there's a possibility that I've got a bit carried away lol

taking care of cat!Aventurine

edits by @keisieudeptry on twitter

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, a lot of cuddles, n̷̳͙͊͛õ̵̩͓ ̸̧͉̓b̶̳́̎e̵̖͋͊ṭ̴̩̔ȧ̵̪͚̕

Aventurine

Listen, he's always on alert okay. This man rarely allows himself to relax, especially when he's on another one of his business trips.

And he knows what to expect. Lies, attempts on his life, threats etc. He has seen it all.

But this. This. This is something new. Of course anything can happen when you're dealing with The Masked fools but this? Being turned into a cat? In what place this is even funny? It is kinda funny tho just not for Aven

He knows better than to panic. Yes, being turned into a tiny orange cat was not a part of his plans. Yes, this is probably the most defenseless and vulnerable state he's been in since his childhood. Yes, this sucks. But hey not like panicking will change anything.

Instead he just sits in the corner, feeling incredibly anxious and dreadful. His only hope is that this shapeshifting trick won't last for long.

A huge wave of relief washes over him when he sees a familiar person. And not just any person but you. The only person who can put his restless mind at ease, at least for a short time. He wouldn't mind seeing Topaz or Ratio too but it's much better when it's you.

He quickly realizes, however, that his joy was premature. He can't communicate with you! And you don't know that this is him! So the only thing poor Aven can do is follow you around and... meow. It's almost humiliating. Too bad he doesn't have time to care.

Soon enough you give up at finally pick up the oddly familiar cat. Every time you try to put the cat down it starts meowing and running after you so the only thing you can do is pick it up and carry around like a potato.

And you know how it is with cats, once you put your hands on one you can't stop petting it. You run your fingers through the cat's fur absently, while checking you phone for any messages from Aventurine. Hugging the cat, pressing your face to it's soft fur. Something about it surely reminds you of Aven. The thought, no matter how childish it is, brings a small smile on your face.

And poor, poor Aven. For so long he's been longing for your touch while laying awake at night, his poor heart flattered every time your fingers brushed against his. He wants wants wants to melt into your embrace yet this is not allowed for him.

How can he ask for it without exposing the deepest and darkest parts of his soul. How can he open his heart to you without reveling all the ugly, fragile parts.

He wants to be open with you, he really does. Yet it's so unreasonably hard. Would you kiss his head like you do now if you would know how empty he is inside? Would he be able to press his forehead into you palm, asking for more more more without feeling exposed?

In a way, it's good that right now he's in this form. He doesn't really have to think about anything, doesn't have to feel anxious about revealing too much. He can just enjoy in.

You two fall asleep just like that and he doesn't have to overthink, he can just crawl to you side, nuzzling up to you.

You can't help but notice that the kitten in your arms is trembling slightly. And when you pull it closer in order to provide some warmth and comfort it just purrs and meows pitifully. Almost like it's… crying.

Now listen. I'm 100% sure Aven is a light sleeper. So there's no way he won't wake up from a loud gasp and a lot of movements near him.

Well. Seems like the shapeshifting trick the masked fool pulled on him lasted only for 12 hours. And now he lays on the couch in his human form while you look at him with the wide eyes.

Awkward.

His initial reaction is to laugh it off. "Surprised, dear? It's a shame you can't see your own face right now ha ha". Would explain the whole situation, trying to make it seem like it was not a big deal. No mention of you cuddling session tho. Max he would say is "my, my, didn't know you where such a cat person".

However, his smile freezes immediately when you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Well. Here goes all of his feigned confidence.

Here is this feeling again. Your warmth, you scent, the comfort your touch brings. You telling how you started to get worried and how relieved you are that he didn't get hurt. It cuts so deep, makes him feel so exposed yet so needed. Loved even.

At first he doesn't even get it why your eyes get even wider, why a look so lost and worried all of the sudden. Only when your hands hesitantly cup his cheeks and you ask him what's wrong he realizes that there are tears in his eyes.

You know those tears when they just drop from your eyes and it's not like you're hysterical or crying uncontrollably but the tears just keep coming and coming and the more you try to calm down , the worse it gets? Yeah, him.

Would almost automatically tell you that everything is fine. When you confront him, pointing out that he's literally crying, will get even more confused than you. "Hah, seems like you're right, dear" he says with a small smile, giving up on the idea of hiding it from you. After all, it's too late for that anyway.

It feels... not even humiliating, no. It's weird, scary even, to be so open around someone. To be stripped of his mask so suddenly.

And yet he doesn't have time to care when your hands hold him oh so tenderly, when you cup his face and ask him what's wrong.

"Nothing, nothing, really. Just getting a bit sentimental here. Just... hold me like that for a bit more, 'kay?" he manages to whisper with a faint smile before pressing his face in the crook of your neck.

God feeling his tears on your skin feels so surreal. And heartbreaking too.

With each tender touch he gets even more emotional, to the point when he literally chokes on his own tears. Please hold him, run your fingers through his hair, kiss the top of his head.

He just doesn't get it, it feels so good to be held by you, why does his stupid heart hurts so much then?

Honestly he didn't cry for so long and there are so many repressed feelings, just let him let it all out.

He'll probably fall asleep in your arms, feeling very exhausted after the sudden emotional outburst. In the morning would act like nothing has happened, making some dismissing comments about him being a bit overdramatic last night. Don't let him withdraw into himself but don't push him to open up too much as well.

Just touch him more often from now on, especially when he looks like he had a bad day. And eventually he'll turn into your lap cat, reaching out for your warmth himself with or without reason.

"You're being clingy again" "Am not <З" all while sitting on your lap.

You've domesticated him so good luck.

[everythingspokenfor]

Part 3

─ ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ─

The new apartment was spacious, and quiet frankly beautiful. It had a large window facing the city, a decent sized kitchen with an attached balcony, a living room and 2 bedrooms.

Everything was here, all your stuff, packed in boxes, furniture delivered but waiting to be set up.

You were startled by the sound of bags ruffling in the kitchen, suddenly aware of the presence there. Haruki had been with you throughout the whole move, he had been the one to suggest you this apartment, he lives across the hall from you. He had known that you were looking for apartments for a while and suggested the vacant one in his building, although he originally wanted to suggest you move in with him, but that seemed too straight forward.

"I made katsudon, it probably isn't as good as the one you are used to having tho." He stated, gesturing towards the meal set up on the kitchen counter. You know he was indirectly referring to Bakugou's cooking but you brushed it off.

"I am just glad to have warm meal after a long day of work, Haruki, l am sure the food tastes amazing." You replied, walking towards him and taking a seat in front of him.

You both ate in silence, katsudon was good maybe not like the one at home but it was a different kind of good. Maybe it was the exhaustion weighing down your bones, or the ache of heartbreak still stinging.

"it was good." You picked up the emptied bowls and moved to the sink. Haruki hummed, tilting his head in confusion before following you.

"The food, I meant. It was good." You clarified, while staring the water and rinsing the dishes.

Haruki stood next to you, taking the soaped up dishes and running them through water. "I am glad, i didn't want you to feel lonely here. The apartment is far from main city but if it makes any better I am right next door." He said while leaning against the counter. You turned towards him only to see him already looking at you, he leaned in, before slowly pushing your hairs behind your ear. "I think this is it for today. I'll call it a night and deal with the rest of it tomorrow." You mumbled while stepping back, the proximity seemed a little less for your comfort.

"that's alright, I'll take my leave for today as well", sensing your discomfort he moved out of the kitchen and through the front door.

The silence was alot louder then you anticipated, the absence of another person suddenly causing your throat to constrict. You shock your head to clear up your thoughts and went to your room. The only thing set up was your bed, you laid down and picked up your phone.

Suki : I am sorry.

You put the phone back down, and turned over to sleep.

·····························

The loud knocking wasn't really how you were expecting to be woken up with. The clock read a time too early for you to be up considering you were on leave.

You stood up and went to the door, not really caring what you looked like hoping to deal with the nuisance and go back to bed. You swing the door open, only to see the cause of your heartbreak standing in front of you. Blond hair, more messy than usual, fidgety hands holding a white bad.

"you left me on seen" Bakugou barged in the apartment, not bothered by your disheveled appearance, having seen you in worse.

"Can I get an explanation?" you closed the door, moving into the living room, only to see him move smoothly around your kitchen. Suprisingly knowing where, what is without ever being here.

"it was shitty of me to leave that day, and even more shittier for me to apologise over text", he paused, before turning around and pulling 2 bottles of beer out of the bag. "So, I have come to apologise."

"And why do you know where what is in my kitchen?"

"you arranged your kitchen just like our was", he retorted," all plates, bowls and wine glasses in lower shelves because you used them more often" he looked smug, that did irritate you a little.

You let out a breath, before you looked over to what he had bought, katsudon, within bright orange and red containers that you had gifted him as a joke, 2 bottles of beer and fried onions, fucking fried onions because he knows you like to sprinkle it on savoury food.

"what do you want, Katsuki?", you questioned him, moving around him to grab a pair of chopsticks and starting to eat.

He looked at you silently, eating on the counter straight out of the plastic container, you looked tired, more than usual, bags under your eyes, nose red. He wonders when had it all started, he knows he broke your heart, heck he knows he is breaking it right now as well, you don't show it, you never do, always dealing with your suffering in silence.

"I came to apologise, I am the one that messed up, I get that you want to keep distance from be but why the whole squad?" He queried,"why did you leave the agency, you don't even hang out with the girls, Mina had been worrying alot you know?", he moved over to the cabinets and got out a glass, opening the freezer and filling it with ice pouring the beer from the bottle into it.

You remained silent, choosing to focus on katsudon.

"Don't choke on it, I know you hate confrontations, I don't need answers" he set the glass down next to you before continuing,"at least not right now".

"i didn't want to make things awkward with the squad," you finally spoke, taking a big gulp from the glass,"nobody really knows that I like you, and I really didn't want to cause a sense just because you got a girl."

"why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you confess?", He reasoned, fingers fidgeting, a nervous tick you know, he has.

You turned towards him and smiled, the kind of smile he hated because there were tears in your eyes, the ones that you only shed when you knew you were alone, when you knew that your grief wouldn't be shared. The kind of smile you gave when you told your truths.

"How long did it take for you to confess to her, Bakugou?", You asked him, there are still tears in your eyes, nose still red, you are no longer averting your eyes, but looking straight at him, your shoulders are still slumped. He doesn't know what made his heart ache more, the defeat in your eyes, your truth that you put out or the fact that you called him by his surname.

─ ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ─

[castiwls]

juno .ᐟ

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'one of me is cute but two tho’

Requested; @mochminnie

Notes;

Masterlist | short n sweet

Children had never really been on your or Dean's radar. Sure when you were younger the idea of a picket fence had sounded nice but now as an adult and knowing the life you currently lived, you’d both come to an unspoken agreement that it was not the time for kids.

Well, that was until you ended up in the possession of a shifter baby.

“C’mon, sweetheart you’re not seriously considering it.” Dean laughed climbing into bed beside you. He pulled you into his side with a quiet sigh.

The last few days had been nothing short of insane. He thought he’d seen it all and then suddenly Sam’s back and now he has an extended family he wasn’t sure if he trusted or not.

The only person acting like god damn normal was you. Well, you were until you’d announced that you wanted a baby.

He wasn’t ready for a baby! He was pretty sure he’d also just proved it if the way you’d reacted when he’d given the shifter whiskey was anything.

“Think about it.” You hummed, your tone dreamy almost as the image of him holding the baby flashed through your head again.

“I am.” He responded gruffly as his eyes slipped shut. “I’m thinking and I’m telling you no.”

You huffed looking up to him with a slight pout. Dean cracked an eye open, grinning at your expression. “Don’t pull that face at me. No babies end off.”

He squeezed your body closer to his as you continued to frown. “Can’t we just talk about it? I saw you with that baby Dean, you didn’t look too annoyed then.”

He hummed looking at the ceiling for a moment. Maybe the baby had been slightly cute.

“Though if we do have a kid we are not naming it Bobby-John.” You scoffed. Dean shot you an offended look as he moved back ever so slightly to see your face better.

“Hey! What’s wrong with my naming abilities!”

“You can get middle naming duties.”

“Hey, if we’re doing this it’s my child too sweetheart and I’m not letting you name it somthin stupid like…like Sally.”

“Sally? Seriously?” You shook your head, amusement flashing in your eyes as you saw the playful glint in his own.

Dean nodded. “So we’re at an agreement. No Sally.”

“No Sally.” You nodded.

Dean’s hand rubbed over your shoulder slowly as you sat up, shifting to sit across his lap. He smiled as you came face to face, his other hand brushing a piece of your hair back.

“Think about it. A little baby who’s the spit of me or you? How cute would that be!” Your voice was soft now, the same one you used to convince him to let you pick the dinner place whenever you were bored of his constant fast food.

“Think about it? For me?”

He huffed but fell quiet. A mini-you did sound a lot more appealing than another version of him. The world didn’t need two Dean Winchesters running around.

“I dunno sweetheart, two of you sounds kinda like a nightmare.” You gasped hitting his chest.

“Shut up, a mini version of me would be so cute.”

“Mhm.”

“Dean!”

“I’m joking.” He laughed. “I’m joking. I think it would be adorable.”

You nodded happily before falling quiet. “Does that mean you’re willing to try?” You said after a moment, peaking up through your lashes.

“Jesus-“ he huffed before taking a breath. God damn it you’d made the idea so appealing.

“It better be a damn girl.” He grumbled before flipping you both over. You gasped as your back hit the mattress before a slow smirk grew on your lips.

“If not we can always try again.”

[bambisnc]

late night conversations [ft. j.wy]

-> pt2 of this [recap] -> you’re just about to point out that you are, in fact, just a fake girlfriend but before you can wonyoung interrupts you, tilting your face towards her in a way that leaves your lips inches away from hers (and leaves you completely breathless), her tone dripping with urgency, “he’s looking. kiss me now.”

pairing : wony x reader genre : fluffyy/crack/angstish + fake dating trope! cw/tw : kissing + super lowk suggestive + u dont have to read pt1 but u'd get a lil bg so + uneditted oohf ;-; wc : 2! pages! in google docs yayay

“well aren’t you just the best kisser ever~” 

“jang wonyoung do you want me to cry.”

your fake girlfriend’s arm drapes itself over your shoulder, “but yn.. i’m the one who’s sad.. you know, i’d asked my girlfriend to kiss me, but she ended up biting my lip. i think i even saw a little blood…” you try to push her figure off of you, only for her to loop another under your knees and position you to sit on her lap with astonishing ease.

“or should i take it to mean that you were just that excited to kiss me, hmm~?” she’s teasing you, trying to rile you up – you know that. 

but since when did fake dating involve.. this much intimacy? wonyoung is still whining about how much your action pained her, you panicked okay?!, but the casual way she rests her hand on your hip and her face nuzzles into your neck, placing kisses which seem to be dangerously lowering with every successive brush of her lips on your skin.., just seems a bit too real to be considered a show.

when you’d asked her, wonyoung had an answer ready at the tip of her tongue, “we need to practice; yn c’mon you seriously don’t expect people to believe us if you keep acting all stiff. we need practice.” and voila, she’d invited herself into your house.

you ignored the dull glint of .. something you couldn’t really understand in her usually bright eyes. you ignored how her rigid expression felt like a knife to your heart.

“hey.,” 2 hands press against your face, forcing your lips into a little pout, “pay attention to me.” you think she’s still being playful, but her expression is the most serious you’ve ever seen it.. 

and then, a featherlight touch of her lips on yours.

it leaves you a little dizzy, to be honest. you’ve kissed before, and this was barely even considerable comparing your past ‘practice’ sessions with wonyoung.. so maybe it’s something about this moment in particular. 

you’d long accepted that she’d only remain a hallway crush, an alluring daydream. because you knew there was no way you could get over her unless.. unless maybe if you got the closure you needed. that you and her could never happen. which was why you’d accepted her plea to be her fake girlfriend. 

you’d hope the way she was basically using you would be enough to knock some sense back into your love lost brain. but it didn’t. you realized if it was wonyoung, you’d be okay with her doing whatever, however, whenever she wanted.

and maybe.. maybe your feelings weren’t completely hopeless. maybe you had a chance.

“wah yn- c’mon do you want me to beg?” wonyoung asks, her arms now moving to pull you closer to her, embracing you ever so tenderly, “i’ll do it if you want, you know? pleasee~ tell me why you were late to the party? you said something about an issue?”

you sigh, “it’s..complicated. a really long story. and it’s 2 am..”

“so? we have all the time in the world.” 

it’s really hard to argue with her in your current position, especially when her fingers are tracing soothing, mindless patterns on your back.

wonyoung decides you need further convincing, mumbling a “i want you to speak your mind around me yn.. let that mask of yours drop now.. please?” to do so.

gods, at this point you’d even tell her all your banking information if she wanted you to.

notes : honorary dedication to yuyu again n @elliesrosetoy ! (ily btoh) !! &lt;3 + [m.list] (lowkey thinking of a pt3,, lmk tho!)

update -> [pt.3] !! [series m.list]

[starrylanex]

punishment — sam winchester

kinktober 2024 day 2; take me back to the main kinktober masterlist;

summary — late-night research turns into sam taking control when you push his buttons. he bends you over the library table and spanks you until you're begging for forgiveness; warnings — spanking, power play, mean sam (kind of) dom sam; word count — 1,2k;

hi angels, i was supposed to post this yesterday but got lazy to finish it so here you go:)

——

it was another late night in the bunker. you and sam had been going over ancient texts for hours, looking for a way to break the curse on a witch you’d been hunting. the room was quiet, save for the occasional flip of pages and sam’s low, frustrated sighs. the tension between you two had been building for weeks, the kind that had nothing to do with the case and everything to do with stolen glances, the brush of hands, and the way he’d look at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

you sighed out, the words on the book were swirling in front of you, you couldn’t focus anymore, and nothing that went past your eyes made sense anymore. you stretched, sighing out louder this time and feeling your muscles protest as you leaned back in your chair. "i think my brain's about to explode," you muttered.

sam didn't look up from his book, but you caught the way his lips twitched at your comment. "just a little longer."

you rolled your eyes. "you say that every time."

pushing your chair back, you stood and moved around the table, you put your hands on his shoulders and lean over to peer at the book he was reading, your face now next to his. "found anything interesting?"

you were close enough to smell his cologne, close enough that your chest brushed against his shoulder. sam stiffened under your touch, and you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips.

"careful," he said, his voice low.

you tilted your head innocently even tho he couldn’t really see you, pretending not to understand. "what? i'm just looking."

he glanced back at you, his eyes flicked to yours, dark and intense. “you know what you’re doing.”

your breath got caught in your throat. you’d always loved pushing sam’s buttons, seeing how far you could take it, how far you could rile him up. “i have no idea what you are talking about,” you mumble, leaning back, your lips grazing the shell of his ear. “care to enlighten me?”

for a moment, there was silence, the air between you crackling with tension. then, in a swift move, sam’s large hand gripped your wrist, pulling you in front of him as he stood up, pushing his chair back with a thud. the look in his eyes was enough to make your knees weak.

"you’ve been playing with fire all night," he said, his voice dangerously calm as he rose to his full height, towering over you. "do you want to see what happens when you push too far?”

your heart raced, you could hear it in your ears, anticipation coiling in your belly. "maybe i do."

without warning, he spun you around, your hands flat on the table as he pressed his body against yours. you gasped at the sudden dominance, feeling his breath on the back of your neck.

"you think you can tease me without consequences?" sam growled, his voice sending shivers down your spine. one of his hand pushed your back, bending you over on the table so that your ass was up. oh. his other hand moved to the waistband of your pants, yanking them down in one smooth motion together with your black lace panties. "let’s see how much you can take."

before you could respond, sam was on you, his hands rough as they gripped your hips, pulling you back against him. the sensation of his body against yours, the cool air hitting your exposed skin, sent a wave of arousal crashing over you. you moaned out as you felt his hardened and clothed cock against your bare ass.

“you like being pushing my buttons,” he growled, “i think its time you got punished” you were barely prepared when you felt a sharp smack vibrating through your body from your ass, your eyes widened, an involuntary moan escaping your lips, the sound echoing off the bunker walls as you gripped the edge of the table for support.

"sam—"

then, without another word, or a warning, he pushed into you, filling you completely in one deep thrust and making you gasp. you heard him groan at the same time. "don’t talk," he ordered, his hand coming down hard on your ass, the sharp smack reverberating through your body once again. you cried out, but the sting only intensified the pleasure coursing through you.

he then tarted moving, each thrust deliberate and rough, every inch of him claiming you. his hand came down again, spanking you harder this time, and you whimpered, your legs trembling beneath you.

"you wanted this," he growled, his pace quickening as he continued to spank you, the other hand going up to your hair and gripping it. "you’ve been begging for it all night, teasing me. now you’re going to take it."

you were breathless, the mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelming you as he kept pounding into you, each stroke deeper than the last. you were so so close from reaching the high. the table creaked beneath the force of his thrusts, your body pushed to the limit as he dominated every inch of you.

"i’m—sorry," you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as you felt the pressure building inside you.

"sorry?" Sam’s voice was dark, his hand delivering another sharp slap to your ass. "i don’t think you are."

"i am!" you cried out, your legs shaking as he pushed you closer to the edge. "please, sam—let me cum, i’m sorry, i swear."

he let go of your hair, only to wrap it around your throat, pulling you back slightly as he leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear. "beg me."

your mind was hazy, your body burning with desire as his grip tightened, not enough to hurt you, but enough to intensify the pleasure. "please," you whimpered, "i’ll be good, i swear—please, sammy."

a low growl escaped him, and he thrust into you harder, deeper, until you couldn’t form coherent thoughts, your world narrowing down to the feel of him inside you, the way his body commanded yours, the rough sting of his hand.

"that's better, come for me, sweetheart," Sam muttered, his hand delivering one final, punishing slap as your body shattered, pleasure exploding through you in waves. you cried out his name, your vision going white as you came undone beneath him.

sam followed soon after, his grip tightening as he buried himself inside you with a deep groan, his body shuddering against yours. for a moment, neither of you moved, the room filled only with the sound of your ragged breathing.

finally, sam pulled out, his hands gentle now as he turned you around to face him. his thumb brushed your cheek, his eyes soft as they searched yours. "you okay?"

you nodded, still catching your breath, a small smile tugging at your lips. "more than okay."

sam chuckled, pulling you into his arms, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "good, come on lets clean you up.”

[blissxjj]

Hello hello!! I would like to request de brothers with a MC who is a extreme kisser. They lose almost all their breath to be able to stay in a long kiss. And then go to another.

I'm sorry if it's too hard to understand 😥, English is not my first language.

Brothers X An Extreme Kisser

Featuring: Lucifer/Mammon/Asmodeus

Lucifer

It was a nice quite evening as Lucifer sat on his desk doing some paper work, till he heard a knock and you cracked the door peeking in

"You can come in MC" he said and you push the door and ran to his desk

"Luci you said you would stop overworking yourself" you said extremely aware of his workaholic nature

"I am sorry sweetheart but, you know Diavolo needs me now more than ever" Lucifer said

"Well maybe i need you more than him" you said getting annoyed

He looked up at you and your face heats up because you just realized what you said. You finally make your way towards him and give in to your desires

You lean over his desk grabbing his tie pulling him in for a slow passionate kiss. Lucifer knew he was in for a long one as he had always known how extreme your kisses are, as much as he wants to breath he can't bring himself to pull away from you, both because of your grip on his tie and just the pure lust he started feeling, rising through his body making it harder and harder to breathe.

Mammon

It was early morning when you woke up to your bed shuffling, looking back to see Mammon tossing and turning in bed while sleeping. You turn to face him and lift your hand to brush over his cheek, that was enough to make his eyes flutter open. Still heavy with sleep he mumbles a "good morning" to you before his eyes close again

"You move alot in your sleep you know that?" You asked

"Yes and there is nothing you can do to stop it" he said

You loved this challenge, as it made you want to win and rub it in his face

"Bet i can restrain you for a good while" you said seductively

"Really!?" Before he could say more you smack your lips on his and turned to get on top of him, the sudden action made Mammon blush like hell, your kiss made him numb as you lick, bite and rub on him, he broke it off for some air and he said between huffs

"So extreme! But you did restrain me so that’s a point for you"

Asmodeus

It was a quiet evening in the house everyone was minding their business and doing work or hobbies. Not Asmo tho he was going around annoying everyone else because he had nothing to do, everything is checked on his list for today

He was about to give up and go sulk in his room until the front door opened, and oh did he recognise those shoes noises of his beautiful human baby stepping in.

He ran to you greeting you and telling you how everyone was soo mean to him today, poor baby was just trying to bond with someone instead of himself for once and look what they did to him!

"i will show you what real bonding is, go to your room i will be there in a sec" you said

Asmo RAN! to his room and sat on the bed waiting for you to open the door, it didn't take long for you to step in and walk over to him, he was about to say something but your lips were instantly on his

Your kisses are the longest most passionate kisses he has ever experienced, and he is a very experienced man, the way you leave him breathless every single time and oh he loves every second of that deprivation.

Masterlist

[seokmn]

ALL THESE YEARS

lua’s note: happy bday coupsie!! also this is for my loved hanie btw @calicoups 💋

after studying and living in another state, you were finally back to your hometown, just to be surprised by your older brother welcoming you back with a small party.

seeing all those familiar faces was such a heartwarming moment, basically all of your friends were there, but there was someone that took all the attention for themselves, your brother’s best friend, seungcheol.

when your eyes met his figure you stopped in your tracks, he was different, but yet the same from when he last saw him. seeing him made you feel all the feelings you thought you didnt feel anymore, made you realize that even after all these years you still like him,

seungcheol saw you and immediately smiled and god, how you loved that gummy smile. “hey there, little one”, he said walking towards you and pulling you into a hug. he didnt change his cologne, the smell of home and comfort filling your nostrils.

“hey, missed me?”, you broke the hug and looked at him with a smile on your face, still mesmerized by his looks, not believing you were finally seeing him in front of you after four years.

“maybe i did… maybe i didnt”, he chuckled, “i did miss you. everytime i walked through a ice cream shop i found me thinking of you.. you still the biggest ice cream lover?”

you chuckled and nodded, remembering all the times you walked through an ice cream shop with him and begged him to go inside and buy an ice cream cone for you. “still the biggest ice cream lover”

the party already ended and your brother was no where to be found, most likely to be with his partner, and you were with seungcheol having a good time in the balcony, watching the view of the city night.

“how was college, little one?”

“it was good. life changing id say”, you looked at him, taking in the sight of him looking intensely at you, like he was scared youd leave and he would forget about you and your face, “but i missed here, cant lie”

he nodded, “i can see you changed”

“oh, really?”

“of course. i can tell you matured by the things you posted on social media and all that, yknow?”

you fake gasped, “was someone stalking me?”

“what? no!”, he laughed, “i have always followed you on twitter and instagram, you just appeared on my timeline. dont think youre that special”, he rolled his eyes in a okay playful manner, he wanted to make sure you knew he was joking about the last thing he said, he wanted you to know that you are indeed that special to him.

“yea right, cheol. pretend its true that i pretend i believe you. but you know, you changed too.. but physically speaking”

“i got bigger, didnt i?” he flexed his muscles, making you laugh and nod, “yes, you did got bigger”

“what else?”

“hm…”, you pretended to think hard about it, “you got older too”

“hey! how could you say that?!”

you laughed and shrugged your shoulders, “what about me? did i change?”

“i think we can say that you changed a bit,” he smiled, running his fingers through your hair, “your hair grew a little longer, your eyes changed a bit too.. now its not filled only with love and excitement for life, now it brings some nostalgia too” you chuckled, “stop making things up!”

“im being serious tho! i can see more love in your eyes”

“what else?”

“your style changed, you dont dress like before”, you chuckled, “thank god for that”

“i liked the way you used to dress up.. your makeup style also changed and…” he looked at your lips, “your lips… they look softer,” he brushed his thumb against your lower lip, “they look so kissable, more kissable than last time”

you felt your heart beating so fast you could swear it would jump out of your mouth, remembering when you saw him for the last time before going to another state, feeling the exactly same butterflies in your stomach you felt when he kissed you goodbye.

“do you think about the last time we saw each other? about the kiss?” he said placing a strand of your hair behind your ear, “because i think about it all the time”

“i think about it way more than i should”

he smiled and placed his hand on the back of your neck before leaning in closer and kissing you. the kiss was gentle, but yet firm. soon enough seungcheol was wrapping his arms around your waist and you wrapping your arms around his neck.

once he broke the kiss to catch some air he rested his forehead against yours and chuckled, “we should do that more often. actually, maybe you should just be mine”

[beybaldes]

when you know, you know

masterlist

Sejanus plinth x gn!reader

summary: In the time he’d so far spent in district twelve, nothing had warmed his heart like you.

warnings: no use of y/n, peacekeeper Sejanus I don’t really think that’s a warning tho, talk of a future together, kids?? but not said how the kids come to be, fluff galore!!

Sejanus turned onto his side, one hand propped underneath his head so he could look down at you while the other moved to cup your cheek. Now his face was all you could see, it blocking out the setting sun as he leaned over you. He once told you he used to have long, dark curls before he became a peacekeeper and it’s now more than ever you wish he still had them. Maybe he’d have them by next spring, if you were lucky.

Leaning even closer to you, Sejanus brushed his lips against yours in the briefest of kisses, something so short as to not satiate you. Before he could move too far away from you, you placed a hand on either side of his face, pulling him down to connect his lips to yours once more in something slow and easy. Something tender and soft that cured your yearning and had heat rising to your cheeks that wasn’t from the burning sun of late summer. Sejanus Plinth was gentle in every aspect of his being, it was one of the many things that made it so easy to fall in love with him. When he initially tried to pull away from the kiss, you chased after him, wrapping your arm across the wide expanse of his shoulders and pulling him back down to you, reconnecting your lips before he had the chance to stop you. One hand began to make its way into his hair while the other moved up and along his chest, fisting the white undershirt of his peacekeeper uniform tightly between your fingers as though he was going to disappear without your touch.

“Wait.” Another kiss. “Wait, seriously.” Another kiss, but this time Sejanus actually pulled himself away from you, moving his hand so that he pinched your chin between his fingers, his thumb coming to rest against your bottom lip, effectively stopping you from kissing him again. “Just, wait.” A laugh bubbles from Sejanus’s chest as he looks down at the frown that pulled on your lips. However, he doesn’t say anything, instead just looking at you, his eyes tracing over every single inch of your face, his smile getter wider and wider with every second more he spends like this.

In truth, he’d had something to say, but over the past month, Sejanus found that when he started to look at you he couldn’t tear his eyes away, wanting to memorise the placement of every single freckle and wrinkle that adorned your skin. Usually, when he found himself looking at you it was from across the hob, or at the least when you weren’t looking at him. But right now, with you laying still between his arms, you were looking right back at him, and he was absolutely entranced.

“When I was living in the Capitol, I never thought I’d ever have anything like this, anything like you.” His thumb ran along the curve of your smile lines then soothed down your jaw, where he pressed a brief kiss. “A part of me still can’t believe that this is the life I get to live.”

“This life? Here? In twelve?” You questioned, unsure how he could be so fond of the poorest of districts when he’d spent so many years in the luxury living of the Capitol. While you knew he’d spent the first 8 years of his life in district 2, it was one of the better off districts, nothing like the poverty and plainness of district 12.

Sejanus tilted his head in confusion, eyes slightly pointed as he took in your words. Of course he liked being in twelve, how could he not? Twelve had reminded him of home in district two, except… better. His thumb continued to sooth over your jaw as the fondest of smiles pulled at his lips. “You’re here, in twelve.” He mused, a far off look in his eyes as he dreamt of a future between the two of you: a wedding in late spring in the meadow by the creek, he’d invite his mother, see if she could pull some strings to get herself here, he’d move out of the barracks and in with you in the little house by the edge of the seam, he’d teach you how to bake all the foods he loved from district two, sooner or later he’d finish his service and maybe then you’d really settle down in twelve, or even two, maybe with a little baby to keep you both company. Sejanus could picture every single second of the next 30 years of his life and he couldn’t wait. “Why would I want to be anywhere else?”

“I love you.” You whispered, the hand you’d had in Sejanus’s hair moving down his face to cup his jaw, your thumb running across the apple of his cheek. Sejanus couldn’t remember the last time someone had told him that they loved him, and he was excited to hear it more often. Just in case though, he memorised the way it rolled off your tongue, the sound of each vowel and constant as it came from your lips. He could get used to this life to a dangerous degree. “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen Sejanus Plinth. Both inside and out.”

Sejanus moved his gaze downwards, hoping that it’d hide the flush that rose to his face at your words. However, when the blush refused to cease, he took to burrowing his face in the crook of your neck, laying against you but doing his best not to put his full weight on you. He pressed a kiss against your collar bone and then neck as he settled himself in, revelling in the feeling of your skin against his. In the time he’d so far spent in district twelve, nothing had warmed his heart like you, not even the hot dreads of summer or the crammed bunk full of people, and he hoped nothing else ever would. He shuffled his face against your neck so he could press a kiss to its crest, just below your ear, a smile pulling on his lips at the way it made you squirm. “I love you too.”

an: thank you for reading!! <33

tag list: @celestialstar111