#if you read all of this im sorry and thank you

[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. 

[ahappydnp]

so sorry but ive seen two different things about this now and im very lost, why did people think they were breaking up/broke up in 2012??? pls help me understand, wise keeper of the lore. thank u so much

response under the cut for general 2012 discussion/too long

basically 2012/2013 used to get (and sometimes still is) generalized as this dark and awful time period where dnp "hated" each other and us, when in actuality it was two very young very scared closeted queer people who were in the process of several major life changes at once while also dealing with a new exploding fan base

there's a few big things from that "era" that people talk about:

deleting old posts- around this era dnp deleted a ton of old tweets/formsprings/dailybooths that could read as them being in a relationship. they were blowing up online and had more eyes on them than ever before, not to mention had just starting working with the BBC (where being queer would have greatly affected their careers). also keep in mind dan was still in the closet to EVERYONE, and now he's got tons of fans going through his accounts and sending shit to HIS LITTLE BROTHER on tumblr asking if dan's gay. anyway people decided them deleting early tweets meant they had broken up

dan's customerservice tumblr blog- in the middle of them blowing up and people finding all these old posts, dan in an effort to control the narrative, makes a new blog for people to anonymously ask him questions (: which went about as well as you can imagine for an extremely defensive closeted 20 year old with undiagnosed depression. basically he said some unfortunately things out of fear

the video leaked again- won't get too much into that because of the subject matter, but the yeah the video leaked for the second time except this time way more people saw it/shared it and dnp actually had to respond to it this time. which is. just fucking awful and heartbreaking all around.

phil persona- basically this was the birth of the amazingphil persona that'd follow phil to the quiff era. he became more sanitized and less personable than original phil fans were used to (which got romanticized into uwu he's sad because he and dan broke up and now he's shutting down)

"no homo"- pretty self explanatory...people asked if they were gay (every single day constantly on every platform) and they would say no because what else are they going to say. this one particular vyou where dan's actually trying to make people think kills me (x) god he was so young. but they'd also started doing the "omg i don't want to see you naked/ew people want us to kiss" and the infamous "you need a girlfriend" "my future wife" etc etc.

the breakup rumors mostly stemmed from and became popular/ treated as fact by younger fans who kind of saw them as these fictionalized characters (which i mean not to blame them because they were literal children and youtubers were still so new that people did treat them like tv show characters you could be friends with). it also got turned into more sinister theories like the "dan is abusing phil" ones and "phil is actually gay but dan isn't and just used phil for attention and fame in 2009"

there was also factors like them moving to london in 2012 (and people were CONVINCED they'd stop being friends in london??), people thinking them getting popular would mean they'd get girlfriends like other popular youtubers (shoutout danrific shippers), and most importantly just them sharing less about their personal lives with their audience. like of course they're not going to live tweet their day/location anymore when people are showing up at their house and trying to find their families.

basically, dnp were putting boundaries between themselves and their fans, but the fans interpreted it as putting distance between each other. in actuality the 2012/2013 era was full of some really amazing memories and content and things people loved (literally the photobooth challenge is from 2013!! sleeping phil saying i hate you is from 2012!!!)

in conclusion, imagine building a forever home with your ex lmao

[corviiids]

hello! how do you find consistent friends in fandom? as in, how do you find people who stick with you through different fandoms and listen and read your work. also, how long have you been writing for and how long did it take you to get so good at writing and character analysis.... your work is such an inspiration to me, genuinely one of my top 3 authors across ao3. i hope the writing goes well!

hey! this is really sweet, thank you very much for your lovely kind words. 💖

re: friendship: i don't mean to be a downer about this so i hope it doesn't come across this way, but i do think the concept of friends where you follow each other through all your fandoms and continue to read each other's work etc kind of... either doesn't exist or is just a rare phenomenon and not a 'type' of friend per se more than it is something that just happens out of luck. i am lucky enough to have friendships which have persisted through all of us changing fandoms, but the reason those friendships last is actually because we found connections that went beyond common interests. i think sharing a fandom/interest is great as an initial point of connection and a way to meet, but for a relationship to last, you need to have a deeper bond than both being into the same thing--so contrary to what you've asked about (oops sorry) those friendships im speaking of only last because we didn't follow each other into different fandoms, really. we didn't have to. along the same vein, i'd respectfully argue that it wouldn't be productive or fair of me to group 'reading my work' in as an element of friendship, so to speak--i definitely don't expect my friends to read my fic and vice versa, we all understand that we can support each other in our creative pursuits and lives in general / in the abstract without needing to be a fan of the same things or even necessarily being fans of each other's work (although of course it's always nice). i know this doesn't really answer your specific question but i hope it doesn't come across as pessimistic as it might sound. i truly and genuinely believe it's a positive thing that the idealised friendgroup traipsing through fandoms together doesn't really exist (or if it does exist, it's luck and not something to shoot for in itself), because this just tells me to look out for these great opportunities to form bonds that last beyond superficial interests.

in terms of how to make those friendships to begin with, im honestly even less help. my friendships kind of just happened to me. im actually quite terrible at reaching out to people and i am notoriously difficult to reach myself hahaha so honestly all the credit for my friendships goes to my friends for being patient and sticking with me despite that. i am honestly just very lucky in that i've been able to talk out loud into the void and have had wonderful people reach out to me because of it, but that's hardly a reliable strategy... i guess i'd encourage you to be more like my friends, who are the anime protagonists wielding the power of friendship to my prickly antagonist, or whatever. oh another thing to remember i guess is that some friendships just don't last this way and will stay within fandoms and may peter out, and that's ok. i don't consider those relationships less real or valuable for being less lasting.

re: writing: i want to caveat that i don't think i'm fairly able to say (or comfortable saying) that i'm particularly good at writing or character analysis, certainly not to an extent that i'd be willing to hold myself up as an example of it, but i really appreciate that you feel that way about my work and am incredibly honoured to be considered an inspiration in any capacity!!

with that disclaimer made, i'll do my best to answer for whatever it's worth. i've liked writing ever since i was a very little kid, but i will credit any actual progress i've made in developing the skill to writing fanfic because i think that being able to focus on building character and logical flow in plot progression over other things like creating characters, worldbuilding, inventing plots wholesale, etc--which has allowed me to sort of expedite those skills in particular and which i think are helpful in writing more broadly. (this also answers the 'character analysis' part specifically--when you don't have to/get to invent a character, you have to spend more time taking them apart.) anyway, i started writing fic about twelve or thirteen years ago, and there have been periods within that where i've progressed faster or slower depending what's going on in my life haha. i do think time played a massive role in any skill developments i've made, but i also know people take less time or more time to make similar progress (caveat again: progression is subjective, this is very approximate), so i think the other key ingredient besides time is engagement. if it's helpful, i went into that a little bit more here, but as stated i have a lot more to learn and would never present myself as an expert lol

[callme-holly]

𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠

a/n: sorry for not posting yesterday y'all i was running on no sleep but im back !!! thank you to @rummy-cubex0 for the request

Darry Curtis:

Its very rare that Darry ever gets the time to slow down, so when he does and its just the two of you together, it feels like a rare moment. At the end of a long day, sometimes all he needs is to wind down and hold you in his arms. 

His arms are always strong and secure when they’re around you, and he’ll always bring an air of safety whenever he’s cuddling you. He absolutely loves when you rest your head on his chest, his hand tracing absentminded patterns on your back and playing with your hair. 

If he falls asleep, you can best believe he does not let go of you. It’s comforting to him to know you’re there and eases his worries knowing that you’re safe with him.

Sodapop Curtis:

Soda is the most affectionate person ever, so he’s more than happy to cuddle with you anytime, anywhere. He loves to face you when cuddling, his arms draped around you whilst he studies every single one of your features and peppers little kisses all over your cheeks and forehead. 

Sometimes, he’ll randomly just pull you into hugs because he feels like it, and it brings him a sense of security that he can’t quite explain. Having you close to him is incredibly grounding and helps him to wind down when he’s on an energy high.

He loves falling asleep tangled with you, his head resting on your shoulder and your hand in his hair.

Ponyboy Curtis:

Pony can get a little shy about cuddling at first, but once he’s gotten comfortable and relaxed a little, he will start to loosen up. He enjoys lying on his side whilst looking at you, your hands laced together as he talks about the most random things. There’s something comforting about knowing you’re there, listening to him, that helps him calm down at night.

Sometimes, he’ll lay his head on your chest whilst reading, letting you play with his hair. If he’s had a bad day, he’ll probably just want you to hold him and tell him everything is going to be okay until he eventually falls asleep in your arms. 

Johnny Cade:

Johnny absolutely adores cuddling with you as it brings him so much comfort. He’s incredibly touch-starved, so at first he might be a little hesitant, but it won't take him long to get used to it, and soon it becomes something he craves.

He loves just curling up against you, and you’ll always feel him melt in your hold, his head resting on your shoulder. If he’s ever feeling anxious, sometimes all he wants is to hold you, the ideit, that he’s got you there by his side enough to ground him and bring him back to the present. He’ll bury his face in your neck and just breathe deeply until you both drift off.

Dallas Winston:

Dally will always act like he hates cuddling; it makes him look soft, and he’s anything but. However, he secretly enjoys it, and having you close by always helps him to relax. Most of the times, cuddles with him happen when he’s half-asleep and not consciously aware of his actions. He’ll drape an arm around your middle and pull you close, pressing lazy kisses to your neck, jaw, and shoulders. 

If you try to leave, he’ll grumble and tighten his hold on you, pulling you back to him, but if you ever bring it up, he’ll deny it and just say it was your idea. When he’s having a bad day, he loves having you in his lap—he wont say anything, just resting his forehead against your shoulder as you play with his hair.

Steve Randle:

Steve will tackle you onto the couch for a cuddle, wrapping his arms around you and covering you with kisses. He loves holding you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder, and just talking in a hushed voice.

If you’re both watching a movie or something, he’ll sit you in his lap and play with your hair, letting you rest against his chest. He just loves having you close to him, mumbling little half-asleep words as the two of you drift off. 

Two-Bit Mathews:

Two loves cuddling with you and will probably state that its his favourite thing to do ever. He isn’t subtle about it either; he’ll just straight up flop on you, pulling you into a tight hug. He’ll tell dumb stories while the two of you are tangled together.

If you try to get up and move, he’ll sigh dramatically and pout until you come back. It never takes him long to fall asleep when you’re around. 

[sugarikiz]

thank you @eunandonly & @wonziz for bringing more light to this on your post here and here respectively, and talking about @/sighdeepseeker (report and block please!) for their hate on enhypen over here

evidence:

how can ANYONE say what taeil did doesn’t bring them disgust/hatred the way seeing jungwon does? so what if he was dating a girl (winter, or not) and so what if he smoked?

calling niki stupid too, amd bringing him into smth he wasn’t part of at all, is absolutely insane too. okay, you didn’t like jungwon smoking or dating — fine. you do you. but why bring someone totally unrelated to the issue into the mix?

im not saying what they’re saying about jungwon is right, im saying what they said abt niki was just not needed here.

01. THE GENERAL HATE

whatever jungwon or the other members do or who they date is none of engene’s business. im putting that out there as an engene myself, and that is absolutely true.

all of the hate towards jungwon is so unwarranted; he is a 20 year old, and very much an adult, so even if it’s true, why should you have so much hatred towards him for it?

there are multiple western artists who smoke, and is anyone going to run behind them screaming “you’re a cheat! kys!” for that? no.

now, before you come at me saying “western and kpop are very different”, i have to say that i mean this in the way that you need to treat k-idols as humans too, just as you treat western artist like that too.

it’s not jungwon’s fault for going live to apologise for all the allegations and drama when hybe most likely made him do it.

if someone put your job on the line, for one weverse live where you might or might not have to lie, what would you choose; live or lose the job you worked so hard for as a child?

02. THE DATING ALLEGATIONS WITH AESPA’S WINTER —

@.sighdeepseeker said something like this on a post;

“why do i get aespa winter smut recommendations? sorry, i can imagine what her and jungwon are doing every night and I definitely don’t want to read about or see it thank you very much.”

firstly, WHO put a gun to your head to think about it that way, and secondly, WHY would anyone ever even want to think about it that way?

just because they might be dating does not give fake engenes or engenes in general a free pass to let their imaginations run wild, if they ever even were dating in the first place.

what is the prejudice with dating in this industry, I’ll never know. do you really imagine that a 20 year old man, or a 22 year old woman have never had a partner or some type of romantic interest? because if so, you might need to go see someone who can get you out of that weird mindset.

these are our idols, not our damn puppets, and I would love for “fans” to someday realise that, better sooner than later.

i urge you to please spread the awareness about this, and go look into this more. thank you for reading, and have a good day/night.

tagging — @puma-riki @bywonyo @flufflights @amoressb @heeaara @heestoleurgirl @woniefication @miukidoll @haerinheartss @leaderwon @flwrstqr

[kryptznnn]

♛/♡ -Tragedy II

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-

➸ INTERESTS; - aged up!neteyam x omatikayan f!reader

➸ BACKGROUND; - Love at first sight doesn’t exist, everyone knows that. There’s attraction, reaction, and understanding someone to call something love. Neteyam wasn’t sure what it was that he felt for you, but whatever it was, he didn’t want it to end.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc.6.5k, mentions of heat cycles, rejection, one sided love, unrequited affection, kissing, fluff, smut, p in v, fingering, ejaculation consumption, teasing, dominant fem lead, clouded judgement, mating, biting, blood mentions, etc.

➸a.i; - whoo!! finished this up i hope you guys enjoy it, sorry it took me so long it’s been a really bad week! but im working on other fics and reqs in my inbox (i’ve had since nov-dec) trying to get all the old stuff out first to get to new ideas!! thank u so much for the love! also this lowkey isn't proofread

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-

♛/♡ Tragedy I

Neteyam was a good man, a good brother, a good if not great son. Which is why it was so surprising hearing and witnessing him speaking back to his parents for the first time ever. His father complained how worried his mother and grandmother have been about finding a mate for him in order to pass the responsibility Jake had been harboring for over two decades to the next, and Neteyam had simply responded how he didn't care.

He was lying their actions.

As soon as he had mentioned he found someone his father was quick to take his side, smiling at him softly before whispering with his wife to the side, who only shook her head. Her mother had already decided what needed to be done, with or without his approval, the average time of courting would naturally take months, and it was months they didn't have.

The people needed a strong ruler with an even stronger woman by his side. The position of tsahik wasn't a problem, Kiri could always fill it, as she's had the best and most practices from her grandmother, but Neteyam's situation was more complicated. Even as he watched his parents speak to one another he wasn't sure what kind of power his father had over his mother.

He would always give her some look, like a pleading look almost or just a caress to her face in order to swoon her, and it always worked. Maybe it was love, it had to be, his grandmother had spoken to him about how love comes in many shapes or forms but can never be denied. Somehow watching his parents interact before his father placed a kiss on his mother's forehead reminded him of you, and your interaction from earlier in the afternoon on the beach.

It was night now, the sky was bleak and cloudy, the stars hadn't shined as bright as they usually had, almost as if the night sky was mourning as he was. Mourning the loss of love, he was so close to having you to himself and now he felt as if he was going back to square one. It hurt him, but he didn't feel like crying, or getting upset to the point he'd lash out at others around him, he just sat on the cold wooded floors and propped his knees to his chest.

His back was now facing his parents as he watched the sky, asking himself what you were probably doing by this time. Maybe bathing or eating with your family, helping clean up the aftermath or reading to your younger sister. You could've been sewing or beading clothing together for you to wear on special occasions as he watched you do a few months ago.

Or maybe your family was all out and busy for the night and you were all alone at home, waiting for some company. He was sure he could provide you more than just company, making his time with you highly worthwhile, but yet again it would probably be better to talk things out about what happened earlier. Or maybe you two didn't need too talk anything out, when things happen between two people who can't help themselves it's meant to be.

The two of you were meant to be, that sounded satisfactory, it definitely pleased him, bringing a smile to his face. He was so used to growing up and sacrificing things for his sibling's happiness or just too tired to fight for it. He was grateful for that actually, listening to the way his father was raised and the life he lived on the stars from above pained him, no one should live a life like that, but his father always reminded him if he hadn't gone through any of that he wouldn't be blessed in the future to be reborn.

Maybe his father was right, thankfully to him he was grown into a responsible young man, athletic, intelligent, and handsome, there was nothing but greatness in him. He felt more than responsible about you though and just wasn't sure as to why. It was something like a craving or poison in his mind that was stuck there forever.

It would make his insides itch and his outsides hot; it's almost like when you sit out in the sun for too long with dry skin and start to feel discomfort. But the sun feels so nice when you've been in the cold for so long and have nothing else to turn too, that's how he felt about you. You haunted his mind in such an eerie way, and at first, he had even had his grandmother check him for illness 'just because', sure you had done something to him, but nothing came back.

He yearned and grieved for your affection as if you had passed away, like a ghost he could only breath in whenever he closed his eyes. He was sure if anyone was able to hear or read his mind, they'd call him crazy, but he didn't feel that way, he felt free. Soon enough, snapping him out of his trance was a woman walking beside him, one he hadn't seen before.

Or maybe he had seen her before, he just hadn't remembered. His head followed her movements as she made her way behind him, walking towards his parents and taking her side beside them. This immediately made Neteyam spring to his feet and follow behind, raising a brow.

His father introduced the two of them to one another, speaking of their affiliations and granting Neteyam the choice to at least keep their new guest busy and grow fond of her before making a solid decision of his future. He knew his father well, his voice was laced with responsibility and seriousness, but in all honesty, it was mainly code for 'be nice to her and go court whoever it is you wanted'.

He was listening, his ears flicked slightly listening to the woman introduce herself and pronounce her name. 'Fa'nyma', strange name, completely different from yours, but it seemed to suit her somewhat. She was shorter than you, he took notice of her hair was much longer on some part, and she wore lots of jewelry. Maybe it was to impress him, but he could only think of how those jewels would've looked against your skin, your smile.

He smiled to himself and nodded, quickly changing his face into a stir of a frown and turned his attention back to his parents in order for Fa'nyma to not get the wrong idea. He knew better than to be rude, especially to a woman, it's not the way he was raised to be at all, so he would be cordial with her, that he agreed on.

But that kind of promise became difficult to keep when it came to the fact that she practically followed him everywhere. He had planned to come and see you in your kelku, only for her to be right behind him. It would be very problematic to explain the fact that a woman is following him around the entire village as she's now his responsibility.

It had been three days since then, Neteyam had always thought to himself what was an easy way to say, "Leave me the fuck alone", not a nice way, he didn't want to be nice with her. He wanted to sound easy on the ears, but harsh enough for the conversation to get no farther than her understanding and leaving.

Then again, he's sure she wouldn't even understand what the word "fuck" means. It was a sky people term, and his parents had only used it whenever they hit their toe against something or messed up badly or were just upset beyond the point of explanation. His brother cursed often too, practically being more fluent in cursing than his mother's tongue. This is ridiculous, why is it that whenever he's so ready to get something for himself obstacles just throw themselves in his way.

"Fa'nyma" he spoke, placing his bow and arrow down in his hut before removing his headpiece, letting his braids rest on the side of his face before tying them back. She hummed in response, turning to him from the entrance of his kelku and smiling at him. "I'm going out somewhere now, so I'll need you to leave." He spoke solidly, turning his attention away from her when he noticed her cheeky look.

"Don't you want me to accompany you to wherever you're going?" She spoke, Neteyam sucked his teeth lightly before rolling his eyes. She must be one of the stupidest people he's ever met, even his youngest sister Tuk would know if he had said something like that, he would want to be alone. Did it genuinely look like he wanted her company? Or that he enjoyed her company so much he would've said yes?

"I don't enjoy your company, and I won't need it anymore." He said with an attitude, grabbing a small bag in the corner of his room and placing it over his shoulder with a clunk. He soon ushered her out of his room and hut before leaving himself, not even looking behind him to see her.

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-

"Y/n" he spoke with a smile, standing in the middle of the tree of voices. He had spent nearly all afternoon looking for you, now being nightfall as he saw you. Your back was facing him, but he knew it was you, he could tell by your scent, your hair, everything.

After spending nearly all of his time with Fa'nyma it was refreshing to see you, to breath you, and to touch you. He was quick to reach a hand out to your shoulder, watching as you spun around slightly for his hand to fall off your shoulder and back up slightly. You weren't smiling, which worried him, he wasn't sure what look you were giving him, but it wasn't one he was expecting.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, definitely taken aback wearing a confused but more hurt look on your face. After having such a passionate moment with a man, you weren’t surprised for it to end so quickly, what you didn’t expect was for him to leave you, especially for three days.

“I’m here to see you of course, I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long, but you have no idea how happy I am to see you aga-“

“It’s been three days Neteyam.” You cut him off harshly, now beginning to become upset, he spoke as if no time had passed. “You kissed me and left me for three days, but it’s easy for you to walk around with Fa’nyma.” You said, earning a flared look from him at your last words.

He was quick to place the bag he was holding down, now holding both of your hands with his own hands. He looked at you with a look of desperation, pledging with you almost to hear him out.

“I don’t like her; it wasn’t up to me I swear it. I told her off this morning, I want nothing to do with her, only with you.” He said, smiling somewhat softly as you again to see you smile as well. He knew something like this would happen, he was ready for it of course, but he knew no matter how things would’ve ended he wouldn’t let you go.

He would apologize anyway he had to, such as bringing you gifts or flowers and fruits, maybe kneeling and pleading with you. He knew you well enough to know you had a soft spot for him, for everyone mostly. Maybe it was childish to feel a pang of jealousy broil in his chest over that topic, but he couldn’t help it.

He liked you, he really liked you, liked you so much he wasn’t sure what to do with himself and he would practically fuck himself over again and again. Maybe it was love, maybe he loved you, he had always had the perfect example of it growing now and all he cares about is making it a reality with you.

And he did just that, apologizing to you over and over and sitting you down on the glowing floor beneath the two of you as he gave you everything from his bag. He practically showered you in gifts you hadn’t seen before, small jewels and crystals from the star above as you had a wide smile on your face.

He had told you he wanted to court you, earn you the right way, in order to bring you towards his family, the proper way. He even slid in a joke about how if things had escalated on the beach everything would be entirely different now, making you laugh.

You were so beautiful, everything about you was so beautiful, your laugh, the way you fluttered your lashes at him as you listened to him speak, or maybe how you kept your skin in contact with his no matter where the two of you were. You weren't afraid to show him off or hint there was something between the two of you and it drove him mad.

He was so quick to mention your name to his family so often that they had no other choice but to force Fa’nyma out of the picture. He thought of himself as a bad person for a short while, purposely flaunting your capabilities and beauty in front of the other woman to watch her face stir with jealousy as he had a sinister smirk plastered on his face.

He must’ve been crazy, in both good and bad ways, but it’s deemed excused because he’s crazy in love, crazy in love for you. So crazy that now after just a few weeks of courting he’s itching to bring things to another level.

He was patient, everyone knew it. He was trained to be at such a young age, like when catching fish with his father, those lessons taught him nothing more than the importance of time. Good things come to those who wait, he had you, but to fully tie the bond between you two he had to be patient.

Love is something that can’t be rushed, patience is a large factor between two people, almost like a test to see what’ll happen under pressure. Sadly, as of right now it felt as if Neteyam was losing, if not losing his mind in the process. Laying on his bedside within his empty kelku, listening to the cold winds outside blow around it and pick up on the small, piped chimes outside his hut entrance his youngest sister made for him.

He couldn’t sleep, his mind was racing, and he felt so empty, and the thought of you was just making up upset. It stirred something inside him he couldn’t entirely understand, all he could think of now was wanting you.

No,

He needed you.

Attached to your affection and presence like a newborn to its mother or father’s skin in order to thrive and feel their love. He wasn’t sure why tonight was so different from the rest, but he couldn’t stay here, something felt off, so he did the only thing he could do and set out into the forests.

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-

A simple way of remembering people is by their scent, which Neteyam was familiar with. What he hadn’t been familiar with was your scent being so strong to the point where he paused in his steps and shielded his face, squinting.

It was strange he was able to pick up your scent here of all places, it was in the complete opposite direction of your home. So of course, he did none other than follow it to find you, but what he saw was nothing of what he expected.

“Y/n” he called out, removing his arm from his face to take in your state, hunched over on the floor by a tree whimpering. You hadn’t answered his call, and when he came to you and placed a hand on your skin you hissed at him, slapping his hand away.

He was appalled to say the least, your skin was burning, and your behavior was erratic, since when were you so defensive? A click quickly came to mind, you must’ve been uncomfortable, or afraid, especially to react that way with him of all people.

He was quick to scan the surroundings of the two of you to emphasize the fact that you weren’t alone, someone had definitely been here before he came towards you, lurking. Neteyam was quick to suck his teeth, already piecing together the situation playing out before reaching out to you again.

You were in heat, he felt so stupid letting it slide over his head as he had originally had it calculated. Usually within the middle of every month you disappear for only a handful of days before returning, only this time it seems to have come a little earlier than expected.

You had a shawl sprawled out to your side as you stayed huddled into a ball, fidgeting around as Neteyam made his way behind you, hugging you and rubbing circles into your back. Maybe it was because you weren’t in your best mind, but right now you felt like biting him.

Not in a bad way, in a good way, to draw blood and pleasure yourself, not necessarily to harm him. There was something about how soothing his scent felt that the scent of the other navi man lurking in the woods prior seemed to gently fade away. You paid no mind to him as you turned into Neteyam’s embrace, snuggling into his chest with a slight purr and whine.

You felt so hot, and itchy, the cool night breeze hadn’t helped you quick enough, but Neteyam’s body had. His chest was firm and cool, like how the ponds or lakes underneath the waterfalls felt, making you smile softly.

It wasn’t enough to stop your pain and itch, but it was just enough to calm you to a certain extent, his words slurring in your brain as he spoke. You had only responded with slight hums, not sure you’d be capable of responding back in sentences.

He was quick to pick you up to your feet, caressing your face and asking you something. Whatever it was he was quick to take your groan as an answer, now holding you hand in hand as he made his way through the forests, occasionally turning back to take in your ill state.

You weren’t sure what path he was taking, it certainly wasn’t the path to your home, or the main village, but the trees you two passed by before coming to a halt smelled similar to Neteyam. He was gentle, letting you climb up into an unfamiliar place before following right after you, his hand locking right back with yours as his other held your shawl.

He spoke to you again, but your ears remained out of focus, now picking up on the small sound of pattering coming from behind you. You turned slowly, your head hurting as you watched the rain fall. You turned back slowly, placing each hand on the sides of your head, feeling as if someone had taken a bone and hit the sides of your head repeatedly.

You only groaned, slumping over slightly before feeling Neteyam’s hands grab onto your side, ushering you further into the room and sitting you down somewhere comfortably. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, feeling his firm hands leave your body you shot them open, taking in your surroundings as you lowered your hands.

You placed your hands down at the bedside you sat on, dragging your fingers across the woven blankets. This must’ve been his home, the entire place was drenched in his scent, it seemed vacant and cold, it must’ve been the way he liked it. You were quick to bring the edge of the blanket to your nose, inhaling its scent with a slight moan, feeling a rush of adrenaline rush through your body and down to your core.

You lowered the blanket as you heard him returning shortly, crossing your legs and angling them in a position to give you pleasure. Biting back a moan as you clenched around nothing you watched as he came over, giving you a small bowl filled with water for you to drink. You smiled softly at him, taking the bowl into your shaky hands before he covered your hands with his before helping you drink it.

His hands are so large, just like you had remembered about him initially the first time he helped you pick out the fruits from the trees. They practically covered yours if not entirely in length, nearly striking a wave of embarrassment in you. As you finished you were sure he had told some sort of joke, pointing to outside before chuckling back at you.

You only batted your eyes and smiled even wider, nodding at him. You were sure that it had done something to him because he looked away and swallowed hard before leaving the room again. As he made his time quick he came to your side, now sitting beside you and taking your hands into his, speaking again, as your heat grew stronger another wave coursed through your body.

And of course you wasted no time turning to his side, resting your head on his collarbone and inhaling his scent. If you had some sort of shame left before your heat had stripped it from you there would be a possibility you’d have pulled back or apologized, but right now you just didn’t care.

His scent was driving you insane, practically flooding your mind as you caressed yourself into his skin with soft mewls and moans that echoed in his ears. He was more than flustered to say the least, but he had come to a decision on how to help you in any way possible. He simply brushed your hair away from your face to get your attention, which worked before he spoke in sure of you to hear him.

“Use me how you seem fit.” He said sternly, flashing you a toothy smile afterwards. He watched as your pupils blew out nearly full wide, no longer seeing the color of your irises before you turned your head back into his collarbone. You were quick with your actions, licking and nipping at his skin before making your way up to his neck.

A soft kiss was applied to a sweet spot before you licked it, prepping your canines into his flesh before sinking them in slowly. If it hurt it harsh enough you were sure that when you had sense again you’d apologize for it, just not now, not while you enjoyed lapping up the small trickles of blood that dribbled down his warm skin.

Not while you suddenly leap a leg over him, now straddling him as you continued to kiss him. He had barely moved as much as he wanted to, only following your lead and placing his hands on your back as support. He was quick to pull your head in for a kiss to your lips once you finished with his neck of course, this time being more forceful and sinister than the kiss you two had shared previously.

There was a small part of Neteyam that knew this wasn’t the right thing to do, at least some of it. You weren’t in your right mind and the two of you hadn’t been mated, well at least not yet. If anything, that small feeling quickly went away when he too felt himself slipping into the dizzy and foggy feeling of your heat now affecting him.

He had heard stories of something like this before, heats being able to spread towards one another to a certain extent. Things like that could only happen if that individual wanted to share it, and that seemed to be happening at this moment.

You wanted him to feel how you felt, understand how good it felt to be in this situation, as much as you itched or your skin burned, nothing could have been better than easing the pain with someone that made you feel so good.

You liked Neteyam, you were sure of it. Your family liked him too, he was considerate, gentle, humorous, and well put. He made you feel loved, cherished, and satisfactory; he could never say no to you and spoiled you with anything you wanted. Spoiling the one you love comes to a certain extent and giving them whatever they want comes with a price, like as of now when you began to untie your top and loincloth, attempting to untie his as well.

He was quick to grab both of your arms, bringing you to a short halt. You were completely nude now, watching as he took in your full appearance before looking up into your eyes. He was quick to shake his head, a signal of rejection to you, making you frown heavily and whine, tears prickling the corner of your eyes.

He spoke, not sure entirely what he was speaking of, but you were sure he muttered along the lines of ‘being responsible’ when reading his lips, the tears now rolling down your cheeks as you shook your head. There was no way he would leave you in a time like this after escalating the situation so far for the night, you yanked your arms from his grasp before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, whining.

“Please, please, please teyam, hurts so bad, need you, need you here.” You mumbled, grinding against his painful bulge from his shifted loincloth, taking his hand into yours and placing it over your lower pelvis. You watched as he groaned softly, turning his head as his ears flickered around, as if contemplating his next move. You were quick to turn your head in the direction his was turned too, kissing him first this time, wasting no time in forcing your tongue into his mouth.

He only melted at the action, quickly obliging and letting his hands roam your body. He was quick to squeeze you and tease you, letting his fingertips graze over your nipples as you moaned into his mouth, and he moans back. He kept his right hand over your breast, swirling small circles around your nipple and tugging on it every now and again as his left hand followed its way down between your legs.

Your moans now grew louder, more bass coming from them as they rumbled in your chest and throat, breaking the kiss with Neteyam as a small string of saliva was split between you too. You rested your head on the side of his cheek as your moans continued, rumbling directly into his ear, making his breath heavier than before. He only took notice to quicken his actions, his thumb circling your clit gently as his fingers thrusted inside of you.

This much arousal was getting painful in his case, he was sure he had never been this whipped ever no matter what woman he was with. You were so beautiful, your voice, your body, your movements had him captivated, if anything he wished he could stop time just for this moment. He could hardly even feel his fingers, the way they were coated if not dripping in your arousal he slipped in and out so easily it was insane.

What was even more foolish was the fact for just a split second he became jealous of his own fingers, wanting to be inside you himself with his tongue instead, but the way you fidgeted on his lap and begged for more he knew that was something to wait for another time. So, he continued, now drawing his full attention to your face as he watched your body shudder when he curved his fingers, his fingertips grazing against your insides.

He took his hand away from your breasts, now grabbing the side of your face and watching your expression, your skin was still hot, but that hadn’t bothered him. He was more focused on trying to not cum by just the sight of you. Your hair was a mess, your face was flushed and hot, saliva dripping down your lips wasn’t helping, especially when you were panting heavily like an animal with your hooded eyes.

And there it was, that cheeky little smile you do whenever you know you’ve got his attention, batting your lashes at him. He hated that you knew how to get to him so easily, especially at a time like this, it’s as if even though he’s the one pleasuring you, you were doing the same in his favor, and he was definitely right when he watched you come undone on his lap, practically shouting his name as your grip on his shoulders tightened, your nails digging into him as your body jerked forward, shuddering harshly as your orgasm washed over you.

You had no time to catch your breath as Neteyam kissed you sloppily, pulling his fingers out of you as you whimpered into his mouth at the feeling of the emptiness, clenching around nothing. You hadn’t pleaded or begged like before, only finishing your previous work and untying the rest of his loincloth before picking it up, watching as he sucked on his fingers with a small smirk.

You looked away nervously at his actions, placing his loincloth up to your nose and inhaling its scent, kissing it and tossing it behind you as you made sure Neteyam watched you. He only shook his head with a smile, his face flushed as he watched you, grazing his fingertips over your breasts yet again.

“Not satisfied?” He asked, cocking his head slightly to the side as he watched you, your eyes locked onto his body, trailing down until seeing what was hidden underneath his loincloth, making you shudder. After your intense orgasm prior, the heavy cloud of your heat wasn’t as thick as before, now you had at least a little bit of your mind left, now asking yourself if the size was too much to bear.

“Mm-mh” you muttered, shaking your head from side to side as you made your way to grab onto his sex, jolting slightly as you watched it bounce up to hit his lower abdomen. He only chuckled at you as he watched your actions, you had hardly paid any mind to him, now taking it into your hand and fisting it slightly, listening to his soft groans as the entirety of it was coated in precum.

You only smiled to yourself, raising your hips up high as you rubbed the tip onto your core, bucking your hips and moaning harshly as it flicked over your sensitive clit. As quick as the small cloud left your body it was just as quick to hit you, returning to your womb like a storm, making you chew down on your bottom lip out of frustration as you grunted.

Eywa, you felt so empty, as if you’ve been starving for days. Starving for a man to feed off of, starving for your man, your mate, to feed you. This was overwhelming, none of your heats had taken this much of an effect on you, and this physical connection wasn’t enough to share with him, you want him to see, hear, breath, and know you, not just feel you.

“Tsaheylu” you mumbled, reaching behind the back of your head to your kuru, bringing it over your shoulder as you looked down at him slightly. His reaction seemed to be one of surprise or understanding, you weren’t sure which to pick off of, no matter there were no words shared between the two of you in that moment, he only copied your movements.

Before the small tendrils of your kurus could fuse together, you sunk down onto him slowly, both of you breathy and sticky, moans mixing between the two of you. You hadn’t moved and neither had he, taking in one another before making tsaheylu, the same second of the bond between the two of you making you whimper as you rested your head on his shoulder, crying quietly.

It was so intense, as if flashing lights and music had been playing amongst the midst of everything already happening between the two of you. After a few seconds you could hear it, hear and feel how Neteyam felt for you, at first when you felt the warming in your chest you had initially expected it to be your heat, bubbling even harder now. That wasn’t the case, it was his feeling towards you, how his heart raced when he saw you or saw your smile, and how he felt now as he had you nestled on him.

It felt so nice, sharing this feeling and pain with another, lifting the burden off of yourself and having a mate to call your own. Before you were even able to speak Neteyam was quick to hoist himself up in a comfortable position, making you moan out softly.

“I know, I know tiwan. Gonna make you feel better yeah? Right here baby? I know what you need.” He spoke, placing his hand back over your pelvis and abdomen. The word he spoke prior sounded foreign to you, you could tell in the context it was a pet name, just not sure exactly what kind it could’ve been. Before you were able to pick up on that thought you felt Neteyam’s hands grab your behind in a firm manner before thrusting himself in and out of you at a kept pace.

You moaned into his shoulders now as he quickened his pace, making you clench around him. He didn’t like this position at all, don’t get him wrong you felt amazing, this moment was amazing, but he wanted to see you, see your face. He knew how you felt due to your bonding yes, but it wasn’t enough, he needs more.

Which is what led him to waste no time in standing up as he held onto you and turning around, laying you down as he towered over you, neither him leaving from inside you or your tsaheylu breaking. Cooing you as you whimpered and fidgeted against him, pulling him down onto you so you could inhale his scent from his side, but he wasn’t having it.

He rested in his knees now, thrusting into you painfully slow, listening to your groans and complaints with a grin. He liked being cocky, it felt good, especially if it got under your skin and he got to watch you react, it was amusing.

The longer the night continued the less amusing things became however, especially for the both of you. As of now Neteyam had lost track of time, and amount of positions the two of you had been in, but now you were on the floor, the room smelling like nothing but sex and sweat as you both moaned.

Neteyam had tried every other way to satisfy your needs without knotting you, but that’s all you had begged for at this time. None of your other orgasms being enough to get rid of the emptiness within you, he just hadn’t thought you were ready for it.

His last worries was getting you pregnant, it could only happen if he was also in rut, which wasn’t anytime soon, but knotting someone is dangerous (and also something he’s never done before). You were an animal, and that was no exaggeration, from the sweat and cum that had pooled on the bedside and floor your skin and fingertips had gotten wrinkly, along with Neteyam’s, but apparently you hadn’t even cared.

“Please, need it, so emptyyy” you whined, poking at the fat knot at the base of Neteyam’s cock that had been poking at your entrance for some time. Your face was wet with tears and sweat as you threw your fit, moaning as he postponed himself deeper in you to where his knot grazed against your clit.

In a matter of seconds, you were practically fucking him back, arching your back slightly as you pushed back with just as much force he thrusted into you. You could feel it, his knot was practically teasing you in a way you couldn’t explain, it felt like some sort of craze or rush that was driving you mad, mad in a way you drew a smile to your face, chanting praises over and over again before hearing a pop and a painful stretch.

Neteyam halted his movements, a loud moan escaping his lips as his knot had finally entered you. He had towered over you, his chest pressing against your back as you clawed at the floor in desperation. It wasn’t necessarily painful, more uncomfortable as it was a feeling you weren’t used too, and the cloud of your heat had covered most of it.

But oh how full you felt, the pain, tears, and cries from before all seemed to just vanish as you felt the knot lowering, now being filled with Neteyam’s cum at a quick pace. Now you felt full, and in the best way possible, it was all you had truly wanted and finally your needs were satisfied.

You sighed out in satisfaction, feeling him kiss on your neck and back softly before caressing your body. You purred back into him as you felt him move gently and slowly, picking the two of you up off the floor to his bedside, removing the dirty blanket from there before and laying there with you, still back to chest.

“Thank you” you said to him, taking his hand and kissing it with a smile as you felt him smile from behind you. He only played with your hair as he heard you yawn, taking in your small and tired state.

“Mm-hmm, so proud of you baby, did so good.” He spoke, placing a kiss onto your head as he drew faint circles in your back as he watched you drift off to sleep. He smiled to himself before remembering he was still stuck for a while, hopefully he wouldn’t wake you if he pulled out.

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-

-ˋˏ ༻Current Taglist༺ ˎˊ-

@bakugouswaif @hungrynessforfics @thisaintredwine @hello222sthings @crispynutella @rafslytherin @dayyzlol @lilyed777

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn 🌸my main navigation

[celestialwrites]

saying ‘i love you’ without saying ‘i love you’ dialogue prompts

@celestialwrites for more!

♡ “to me, you are perfect.”

♡ "don't you realise? you are my world."

♡ "you brought me back to life."

♡ "the only way i know how to describe what i feel around you is home. i feel at home."

♡ "it's as if my entire life i have been sinking in a storm and you came and pulled me out."

♡ "you know i stayed for you, and frankly, i don't regret it one bit."

♡ "with the whole of my heart, i believe that together we are infinite."

♡ "i never intend on leaving you. you hear me? never."

♡ "thank you for being the shoulder i always needed, even when you hated me."

♡ "i can't live without you!"

♡ "never leave me, my heart couldn't bear it."

♡ "i've spent my whole life waiting for you."

♡ "consumed in darkness, you darling, were my light."

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS!!<3

[devxoid]

regarding dr ratio's team join voiceline with aventurine

idk where it originated from but i've been seeing this notion that the ENG voiceline is horribly mistranslated and ratio is much more caring and friendly in the original CN. THIS IS LITERALLY NOT TRUE HE IS JUST AS BITCHY IN BOTH LANGUAGES

as a native chinese speaker i actually really love hsr's localisation and i would like to clarify the misconception + explain the cultural nuance/context behind this particular voiceline

i think this tweet might've been the original source for this misconception? op's translation of the CN line is very literal and completely lacking in cultural nuance. while the sentence 管好你自己 does literally translate to "take care of yourself", it lacks the automatic positive connotation that this sentence has in ENG. CN is a high context language -- aka the meaning of a sentence can be totally different based on context clues like tone, body language, etc.

ratio's tone in this line is not the tone of someone who is concerned for a friend. it's standoffish. when said in this kind of tone, the meaning of 管好你自己 is closer to "mind your own business", making the ENG "keep to yourself" a more accurate localisation.

in addition, the word 管 has connotations of controlling/managing something -- directly translating this to "take care of yourself" means it's missing a lot of important nuance.

granted, the second half of the line is a bit unnecessarily aggressive in ENG. the CN is more like "I have no need for your concern", and explicitly saying that he believes aven's concern to be "false" in ENG is definitely a lot ruder than the original line.

However. in my opinion it's not Too far off base. the way he emphasises the second half of that voiceline in CN carries an implication that he actually disdains aven's concern; we can extrapolate from context clues that he feels this way because aven's concern is just an act. tldr; eng line explicitly saying "false display" does make it ruder than CN but it didn't just come from nowhere -- the implication is already there in CN

this is not to say that ratio doesn't care about aven or see him as a friend. imo the reason ratio is so standoffish in this line is because any display of concern from aven here has the clear intention of teasing ratio. they both know ratio can take care of himself perfectly well. this is just how their dynamic works -- aven makes silly playful comments and ratio deflects them by acting cold.

in conclusion: ENG voiceline is not a mistranslation. hsr localisation is definitely not perfect but in this particular case i feel they've done a fairly good job of conveying the original meaning. thank you for coming to my ted talk

[basketobread]

my dumb fuck ass just spent 30 minutes trying to find Save Us White Girl and caved and "help white girl bg3" immediately returned it via google,,,,, had help white girl, white girl help stuck in my head,,,,,

THIS MADE ME LAUGH SO MUCH TBH I CANNOT BELIEVE IT CAN IMMEDIATELY BE FOUND LIKE THAT???? everyday this comic finds its way back to me and i'm unsure if i'll ever be able to outdo it... it might be my magnum opus, i fear... (this is a good thing)

[boygirlctommy]

i love the bit from oct 17 2020 when tommy and quackity trapped wilbur in a cobblestone box to keep him from pressing the button... wilbur punching through the blocks with his bare hand to try to get to the button... tommy frantically replacing the block in front of him yelling for quackity to do something... the moment when tommy stops, blocks the exit, and tells wilbur to do it. press the button. but then theyd die with him. quackitys like "wait, wait-" but tommy holds his ground and wilbur. ohh wilbur. "why'd you have to make it so hard?"

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: a reader that keeps messing around w him and at some point they mention they like him but then hoshina thinks theyre just playing... ..but they r not and he doesnt quite get it at first because hes so used to them joking around and then he ends up overthinking the whole thing until reader actually goes up to him to kiss him (or hug him very tight!!!!!!!! or both maybe!!!!!!)

maybe he liked them too but that thought didnt sit right with him because he doesnt believe hes worthy of something like that

notes: mentions the reader's face "flushing", reader is rather lively/outgoing, reader is not a fan of horror and is more a fan of romance, reader is a hoshina stan, one part is inspired by a scene in wakaba no komorebi, omg why are there so many notes I'm so sorry TY FOR THE REQ!!

wc: 2800

A new day, a new chance for you to shoot your shot at none other than your vice-captain of the third division.

You were always messing with him. This ranged from embarrassing pranks a grade school boy would menace his crush with, all the way to borderline hitting on him. There wasn’t a single day you’d forget to remind him he was stunning, and you’d always be bragging about him to the officers in the first division, regardless of the fact that you had absolutely nothing to do with the things you were bragging about. Simply put, you were loud about Hoshina.

Yet, every day, he'd brush you off and tell you to get to work. You didn't let that mind you much though, because you could tell he wasn't actually upset. You liked him unconditionally, and as long as you weren't actually bothering him, you couldn't care less if your feelings weren't returned. Well, you did care, but that wasn't going to stop how you felt for him.

Now, you said all of that, but naturally, you were still scared to just put your feelings out there so you hadn’t actually told Hoshina you liked him. You assumed he knew, but if you said it out loud, you’d have to hear an answer. And that, you were not ready for.

However, you weren’t going to stop messing with him anytime soon. Hoping one day he’d actually fall for you and one day you’d have the courage to properly tell him how you felt.

You were in the cafeteria with the rest of the division, having your breakfast while mindlessly scrolling through your phone, when you saw a post about a new movie in theatres. Immediately your mind went to possibly inviting Hoshina and you scrolled right back up, trying to find out what it was about. Horror. You sighed and continued to scroll. Horror was absolutely not your favourite.

“Oh, is it finally out?” you heard a voice from behind you say— your favourite voice say.

“Would you like to go?” you asked, whipping your head back to see none other than Hoshina Soushirou. Just the sight of him and your heart would flutter. How you loved him. “Together? Us? Just us? You and me?”

“Oh, like we have time to go,” he said.

“Man,” you said, knowing he’d say that. The entire defence force in general had been a lot busier ever since the appearance of so many identified grade kaijus. However, it did make you wonder if that meant he would if he did have time. No, he’s just declining your invitation politely, you’d tell yourself, bringing you back to your senses.

You’ve done this since always, and you do this every time without fail. Whenever a new shop had opened, or a new movie to watch had come to theatres, you'd always shoot your shot— hoping he'd say yes one day. Yes to a date.

Although you were used to getting turned down, it still wasn’t the best feeling. Recently, you've been letting it get to you far more than you used to. Maybe after all these times, the rejection did start to have an affect on you. Maybe you were falling for him even harder recently, or maybe you were starting to hope for your feelings to be returned.

Perhaps a relaxing day at the movies was exactly what you needed. Maybe you’d ask for a day off next week— just to go watch a movie you liked.

So you did exactly that, you filed a form to Captain Ashiro, requesting a day off anytime the next week. Preferably on a Tuesday, because movie tickets were cheaper on Tuesdays.

A few days later, you were called over to her office. You assumed it was just to let you know if you could have your day off and if so, when it was. To your surprise, when you walked in, it wasn't Ashiro but rather Hoshina there, working away.

“Hoshina?” you asked, pleasantly surprised. “I didn't expect to see you today.”

“You didn't?” he asked, genuinely perplexed. “But this is my office?”

“Your office? I thought it was Captain Ashiro’s?” you said.

“It used to be, but I took it over a little while back,” he said. “It's just a lot faster for me to do the paperwork.”

“Oh… I see,” you said, rather surprised you weren't already aware. There was a moment of silence.

“It was rather recently that I had officially started working here,” he said, somehow noticing that you were dejected. Oh, how did he always know exactly what to say? You were never going to get over him at this rate. “Anyways, you requested a day off next week?”

“Um… yes,” you said. Now you felt a little awkward about going to a movie alone, and you really hoped he wouldn't realize where you were going.

“On a Tuesday… are you going to see that movie after all?” he asked and he noticed you stiffened a little, so he immediately followed with, “Sorry, you don't have to answer that. You're absolutely free to take that day off.”

“I am,” you said. Half a lie, because there was no way you were watching a horror movie, let alone by yourself. But you were going to the movies. That was true. “It's been a while since I watched a movie in theatres, I realized.”

“I've never gone alone actually,” he said, imagining you were planning to go alone. “Or are you going with someone?”

“No, I'll be by myself,” you said, but instinctively you asked him out again. It was practically in your subconsciousness to do so. “Unless you'd like to tag along?”

There was a long pause before he said anything, and his unreadable expression only made the silence feel longer. You were expecting a quick rejection again, so the silence was absolutely killing you— you hadn't expected it one bit.

“Actually, I'd like to,” he said. “If that's okay with you, of course.”

You couldn't believe your ears. What did he say? You couldn't have possibly heard that right. What had he said?

On the other hand, he had no idea why he said yes. Why after turning you down all these times? Why now? He had turned down every offer of yours because he knew you were just messing around. You didn’t feel about him the way he felt about you. He knew this because you had done this since the moment you joined, and you couldn’t have liked him back then— you hadn't even know him yet.

But still, he hoped you were serious.

“You're joking,” you said.

“Were you?” he asked. This must be why he said yes. He wanted to know so badly— he was rather exhausted of playing the guessing game with you.

“Not at all,” you said. You thought he had known, but perhaps not. “I've never been. Not for a moment.”

“Then, let's go,” he said with his poker face on, but he was a little shaken. He didn't think you were at all serious, let alone that serious.

“Hoshina, is this a date?” you asked, and you could tell your cheeks were flushed. However, there wasn't much to be embarrassed about at this point, so you might as well have asked before you drove yourself insane.

“Okay…” you said, but you were spaced out. You had no idea what had prompted this all of a sudden, but this was the moment you had been waiting for, for your whole life. Yes to a date.

A date? Was it a date?

“Would you like it to be?” he asked. You had no idea what he was thinking.

“Yes,” you said. “Of course…”

“Then, let's go on a date,” he said. “On Tuesday, at 2pm. I'll pick you up from your unit and we'll go and watch a movie.”

It was yes to a date. A date with none other than the love of your life. You were going on a date with Hoshina Soushirou.

You left the office soon after, thanking him as you left, and you were lost in thought. You truly felt like the world around you had stopped, but at the same time, the time passing was a blur. You thought it’d be forever before your long awaited day, and you’d have plenty of time to calm yourself down and prepare, but it had rolled around before you knew it.

You put on what you personally thought was your best date outfit, but you had no idea if he’d like it. You really hoped he would. Now, you were sitting around, waiting for him to come pick you up. It was still 10 till 2, but he was always ahead of schedule— he hated making people wait, so he was always early. A few minutes later, you heard a few footsteps and some rustling outside your door, and you were pretty sure it was him. You waited for a knock, but it wouldn’t come.

Quickly, you opened the door and it was him, waiting by your door with his phone in his hand, opened to your messages with him.

“Oh,” he said. “Sorry, were you waiting?”

“No,” you said, immediately. “I just finished getting ready. Why didn’t you knock?”

“Well, I’m early,” he said. “Didn’t want to rush you.”

Gosh, you were on a date. With him. You had actually never seen him in anything other than what he wears at the defense force, and as much as you liked that training shirt he had on, he looked so incredibly gorgeous today. And this was just for you. He wore a black corduroy turtleneck, and a simple long coat to go over it. You were still so lost, how had you gotten to this point in the first place?

“You’re stunning today,” he said to you as he smiled a little and you swear you felt your heartrate spike. Did he even know what he was doing?

“Not to mean you aren’t usually…” he said immediately. “Sorry, I never say the right things when they count, do I?”

“No, I thought my heart was going to stop,” you said, frankly. This was the way you always were, there was no point in getting flustered all of a sudden. “You’re gorgeous everyday, but even more so today.”

“Well, I’d have to be glad our date is today then,” he said.

While the two of you walked to the theatre, it was rather quiet. Far more quiet than you usually were. Suddenly, you were so nervous, and there was nothing to say to him. So many questions filled your head but none of them felt appropriate to ask. You felt like the spell would break if you took one wrong breath. You wanted to know why he was here with you today. Why he said yes all of a sudden, why he took a precious day off to go on a date with you, and what he was thinking when he said yes. You wanted to know how he felt about you, or at least how he felt about this date.

“I’ll go get us tickets,” you said, as soon as you got to the theatre. “Please pick a snack and a drink in the meantime, I’ll get the tickets quick.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, I’m getting the tickets, and the drinks and snacks, for that matter,” he said. “Besides, we haven’t even decided on a movie yet.”

“We haven’t?” you asked. “I thought we were watching the movie that came out the other day?”

“What? Why would we?” he asked, genuinely confused. “You don’t even like horror." He pointed at another poster on the wall. "Why don’t we watch that one? Romance is more your type of thing, isn’t it?”

You thought you’d cry. If there was one thing that was worrying you about this date, it was the movie. Horror really wasn’t for you, and you weren’t sure if you could watch the movie without showing it.

“How did you know?” you asked.

“It’s obvious,” he said. “You’ve never asked me out to a horror movie, have you?”

Just how did he notice? “But didn’t you want to watch that one?” you asked.

“Please, I can watch that whenever, on my own,” he said. “I’m here with you today. I’d be a horrible date to make you watch it with me.”

“Thank you,” you said, starstruck. “At least, let me pay for it then?”

“No way,” he said. “I’m taking you out today.”

“No, I asked you out,” you said.

“Don’t care!” he said and went off to get the tickets and snacks.

You were in love with him, and you were going to tell him. You were sure he knew, but you had to tell him properly. It wasn’t even that you were hoping for him to return your feelings, you just wanted to tell him.

You thought you wouldn’t be able to focus on the movie at all, but you were, strangely enough. You were watching a cliche romance movie that couldn’t possibly be about you and Hoshina, no matter how much you tried to stretch the narrative, but you loved it. It was a sweet movie, a type that you've always loved, and you were watching it with the one you always loved. You couldn’t be happier.

So as soon as the movie was over, you went for it.

“Hoshina, I love you so much,” you said, and kissed him. On the lips.

His eyes were wide and his cheeks were faintly flushed. You weren’t expecting that, not even for a moment.

“You’re serious?” he asked.

You were confused, did he think you were playing around all this time? “Yes, of course,” you said. “I’ve loved you for forever.”

“Since… when?” he asked.

“Since the day you saved me, 3 years ago,” you said, immediately. It was like you had waited all your life to answer this. “You definitely don’t remember, but I remember like yesterday.”

He wouldn’t reply, but he was still looking at you surprised, so you continued on.

“I thought I had told you this actually. Not the part that I liked you, but the part that you saved me. I joined because of you, Hoshina,” you said. “Yes, you’re my vice-captain and the love of my life, and I’m one of your officers, but you were my hero and I was your biggest fan for all this time.”

Something in him shifted. It felt like someone had woken him up from a weird haze, and showed him how much colour there is to the world. You joined for him. Not for Mina, not for Gen, but him. To you, he was a hero. To the one he treasured most, he was irreplaceable.

“I love you too,” he said, with the softest smile you had ever seen from him. He was serious, you could tell.

“No way,” you said.

“I do,” he said, but he could tell that you were a little skeptical, or at least puzzled. “I love the way you work hard, the way you joke around, but actually care so much. I love the way you give everything your all. I love the way you always smile when you see me— it makes me feel so special. You make my day, absolutely every single day.”

It took everything in you to stop yourself from sobbing, but that made Hoshina laugh. He kissed you this time, and tears rolled down your cheeks anyway.

Wiping your cheeks with the pad of his thumb, he kissed you on the forehead.

“I absolutely adore you.”

BONUS:

Later that day, you were going to open up the one cardboard box you still hadn’t unpacked. The one filled with your posters and merch of Hoshina you had collected through these years. You were hiding them, because you thought it’d be a little too weird if you had those just hanging around, but finally, they’d see the sunlight. You would never have even imagined this day when you had those in your room, dreaming of him. If only you could tell your past self— just how thrilled you would’ve been. Well, not that you were any less thrilled now.

The next time Hoshina came to visit you in your room, he was utterly flustered, it was absolutely adorable. He couldn’t believe people actually bought the merch they sold of him, let alone put them up— and in the room of his loved one nonetheless. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, because it made him so incredibly happy.

He was thrilled that you did, in fact, love him the way he loved you.

[thesunisatangerine]

playing for keeps – chapter three

alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader

warnings: coarse language, light angst

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

word count: 8.8k

[1]

Just before you turned thirteen your body, finally, began to change. 

While Alexia’d gone ahead of you a year prior—with her limbs now lanky and sinewy, and her muscles stretched close to the newly grown bones—you were left behind. She’d grown taller, yes; not by much but the two-inch difference (two and a half, as Alexia was always inclined to remind you) felt like a foot to you. So the change was welcome when it finally started, and more importantly, it happened to coincide with something that completely altered the trajectory of your life.

During the spring after your birthday, your father got a promotion at work. To celebrate this milestone, he took you and your mother for a trip around Europe. And as a gift for your hard work and for getting into La Masia with Alexia just a few months before, your parents surprised you with tickets to at least one game in the country, or area, you were visiting. 

In Gelsenkirchen, Germany, you found your destiny. 

Or at least that was how you liked to look at it. 

Before seeing the match between Schalke 04 against Stuttgart, the idea of keeping never entered your mind; you’d played forward your whole life, and you thought that would be the position you’d play in professionally. But as you saw Manuel Neuer controlling the outcome of the game with his hands, a spark ignited within you—this overwhelming surge—and right there and then, you were enlightened to the art of keeping. That spark returned home with you and, playing into the hands of fate, your journey to keeping began.

[2]

The crescendo of the cicadas’ song was this close to lulling you to sleep. It didn’t help that Alexia’d curled herself up beside you in your bed, her head on your lap while her math notebook laid forgotten at the foot of the bed, and her eyes already closed. It was a rare occurrence for the both of you and even more so for Alexia to ‘slack off’—if you were to put it as Alexia had—but this afternoon was a particularly hot one. Summer had practically bled into spring, and even someone like Alexia clearly wasn’t immune to its soporific effect. 

The numbers from the homework you were working on began to blur when you heard a knock downstairs. Out of curiosity or just surprise, you snapped awake. And so did Alexia, apparently.

“You expecting someone?” Alexia yawned, stretching out her long limbs before settling over to her other side. The movement made a lock of hair fall to her cheek which you brushed away with the back of your finger.

“No, it’s probably Mamá’s.” You hummed in answer, relaxing down on your pillow to finally chase that nap that continued to tempt you.

But then came your mother’s voice, “Guille! Hello, my boy! How are you?”

Alexia let out a startled yelp when you jumped out of the bed, now fully awake, tripping on the rug as you rushed into the closet. 

“What the hell? What are you doing?!” Alexia hissed with annoyance but you were too busy trying to get changed to address it. 

You snatched the closest pair of shorts and jersey shirt, and began to shed the ones you had on before you slipped the fresh ones on in quick succession. 

As you did, you began to explain, “I completely forgot! I was supposed to meet up with Guille today!”

When your head popped out of your shirt, you found a deep crease between Alexia’s brows. She was sitting in the middle of your bed, cross-legged, looking very much like a disgruntled cat woken from a nap with the way her hair stuck out in odd places. 

She looked adorable. 

You bit your tongue before you could say it.

Crossing her arms, Alexia retorted, “Why? It’s Saturday.” 

The tone she used made it seem that today being a Saturday was a valid enough reason for you to not go. 

“And it is because it’s Saturday—and no training, Alexia—that I can go with him.” 

At that, her frown only seemed to deepen. You had half a mind to tease her but you knew that’d probably just piss her off even more, although if you were being honest, you didn’t understand just why this seemed to bother Alexia so much.  So instead of teasing, you tried a placating tone, “You could come with if you want?”

Alexia opened her mouth, “I—”

Your mother’s shout cut through the air. 

“Honey? Guille is here for you!” 

You sent Alexia one last apologetic glance. 

“I’m really sorry! Please stay for dinner! I’ll be quick!” 

And with a quick hug goodbye, you rushed out of your room and practically flew down the stairs. At the bottom, you found Guille leaning against the bannister, hands in his short pockets, with a small rucksack on his back who, upon seeing you, gave you a bright smile.

“Hey! You look—” He began but then suddenly, his eyes darkened and the quirk of his lips turned upside down, his tone flattening, “Oh. You’re here.”

In the same second you noticed Alexia beside you, Alexia’d slung an arm over your shoulders.

“Lovely to see you as always, Guille. And I could say the same about you.” Alexia deadpanned, flashing Guille a smile full of teeth, her eyes void of any warmth as she stared at him down her nose. Then she turned to you, her face lighting up as she asked with a little too much excitement, “So, are we going or not?”

“Wait, she’s coming with us?” Guille blurted out, but before you could even answer, Alexia left your side and ran down the steps. 

“Of course, Guille! Come on, keep up!” Alexia exclaimed on her way out of the door, tapping Guille’s stomach as she did—not without force apparently with the way Guille expelled air out harshly. 

When you got to him, you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“Are you okay?”

He let out a strained, “Yes.”

You gave Guille an apologetic look, grabbing your ball bag. 

“I’m really sorry for the last minute change. I’ll make it up to you.”

Still clutching his stomach, he said, “Don’t worry about it.”

The three of you got to the field near your place—which you were glad to find empty—without any more incidents. You were faced with another problem as it was only after you’d begun warming up that you realized that in your haste to leave, you forgot to bring water with you. When you told Alexia, she offered to go to the nearest corner store to buy some.

You stretched as you waited for Alexia’s return when Guille suddenly said behind you.

“Here.”

Turning, you found him holding a paper parcel bag. You considered his outstretched hand with curiosity before you met his eyes, taking the bag from him slowly. “What’s this?”

“Just a little something to get you started,” he answered, scratching the back of his head. “You said you wanted to keep, so I thought you’d need them.”

Peering into the bag, you gasped at what you found inside. 

A new pair of keeper gloves.

“Guille, you didn’t have to!”

He shrugged, smiling, “Yeah, but I wanted to anyway.”

“Thank you! Come here, you big baby!” You laughed, throwing your arms around him. Unlike Alexia, Guille was only taller than you by mere centimeters so it was relatively easy to ruffle his hair as you pulled away. 

“Mess up my hair again and I won’t teach you anything,” He threatened with a faux glare as he swept his fingers through his curling locks in an attempt to tame them. 

You rolled your eyes, grinning at him. “Okay, Antonio Banderas. So, what are the basics?”

He imitated you, rolling his eyes before he shook his head slightly, his smile never leaving his lips. Then he pointed to a spot by the goal line. “Put your gloves on and stand right there.”

You did, noting the way your new gloves fit perfectly over your hands and fingers. It felt different—stuffy—and you could already feel your palms beginning to sweat from the trapped heat. When you stood where Guille pointed, he walked around you all the while he instructed you to correct your posture: he told you keep your feet shoulder-width apart, to bend your legs slightly so that your chest was just past your knees, and to hold your palms facing out. 

“The main thing to worry about starting out is your stance. It will take time to get the balance right but once you get it down, you’re set.”

“Is this alright?” 

Guille took a step back and he gripped his chin as he hummed. After a moment of scrutiny, he nudged you back suddenly. It wasn’t quite forceful but it made you tumble down on your rear all the same. 

You smiled at him sheepishly, getting up. “I guess that’s a no?”

“Yep. It looks like you keep your weight on your heels too much.” He crouched down at your feet, drawing a square over the front half of your foot. “Keep your weight spread out around here and you should—”

Guille scrambled back suddenly, yelping as a football went flying past where he was just a second ago and into the net. Turning to the direction where the ball came from with your mouth agape, you found Alexia there with water bottles clasped to her chest, an eyebrow raised, while one corner of her mouth was set in a bemused droop, another ball rolling beneath her left foot.

“What the hell was that for, asshole?!” Guille shouted as he stormed his way over to Alexia. He was in front of her now, looking up at her with flame in his eyes but Alexia remained unfazed. She put the water bottles down before she settled her hands on her hips, cocking her head slightly to the side. 

“I’m sorry, Guille. I didn’t see you.” Alexia said flatly, “And aren’t you supposed to be playing keeper?”

“Really. You didn’t see me? Besides—”

“Ale, I asked Guille to teach me.” You huffed, running in between them and separating them with your arms before things got out of hand—again. 

This wasn’t the first time this… row between them happened. In fact, you noticed it’s been occurring more frequently lately. For all their similarities—the main one being their short tempers—the two never got on well together for reasons you never really understood and the only thread that tied them together was you. 

They weren’t always like this though; they were nice with each other the first time they’d met. Guille transferred to your school not long after you’d joined Sabadell, and if you and Alexia were inseparable there, it was always you and Guille at school. And when an opportunity arose for your two favorite persons to meet, you took it. It went well; they were friendly with each other. You only noticed things had changed after you and Guille’s school team started playing against Alexia’s so you were never sure when this all started, and by that point, the friction between them was too great to smoothen out which both saddened and disappointed you.

And it wasn’t like you never tried to get to the bottom of it. You’d asked them what happened, they both gave similar answers. By that, you meant completely avoiding answering. 

Guille’d assured you, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re friends? Don’t worry.” 

While Alexia’d said with a confused frown, “What do you mean? Nothing happened.” 

And when you pestered her, asked her if the reason was because she liked Guille as a joke, she looked at you without reply, and when next practice came, she made a nuisance of herself enough to let you know the answer to your question and more. 

And here you were again, with them acting like this–always at each other’s throats. 

At your answer, Alexia looked at you, confused. “Why would you ask him to teach you how to keep?”

Your gaze lanced away as you bit your lip.

Maybe you should’ve told her after all… 

Mustering up the courage to meet her eye again, you replied, low and serious. “I want to start playing keeper, Alexia.” 

Alexia blinked, and then she crossed her arms before she eyed Guille who was scowling at her in return. She looked at you again. 

“Have you told Alejandro about this?”

“Yes.” 

“Oh.” A pause. “What did he say?”

“I’ll still start as a forward. But he said he’ll put in some extra technical sessions for me starting next week which was why I asked Guille to help me get started. Alejandro said if I get good enough, he’ll see if I can start as keeper for the team.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over you three. 

You caught Guille’s eyes darting from you to Alexia and back again from the corner of your eyes but you remained focused on Alexia’s face. At a glance, Alexia might seem calm—impassive with the way all of her features remained flat. But her eyelids drooped just so they hid more than half of her pupils, how her lower lip was slightly concealed beneath the upper one; she was pissed and even worse, she was hurt. And knowing that you’d hurt her was enough to compel you to reach out and touch her arm, apologetic.

Alexia regarded you for a moment longer. Another word of apology was on the tip of your tongue when she finally sighed, the corner of her lips tilting up to a half-smile as she spoke softly. “Okay. How can I help?”

You couldn’t help yourself. You threw your arms around her and it felt like a weight was lifted from your chest upon hearing the chuckle she let out.

The next couple of hours were spent with the three of you working together: Guille by the goal who continuously gave you notes and instructions, while Alexia—upon Guille’s signal—would send some shots to the net so you could try and stop them. The first… fifty or so shots went right past you—going easy was never exactly Alexia’s strong suit—but the more you focused on getting the timing right and reading the language of Alexia’s body to anticipate the direction of the ball, you ended the session with a few decent saves. 

It was a rough start but you were satisfied with it.

You’d left to use the restroom but upon coming back, the two of them were bickering once more.

Oh, no. What was it now?

You heard more of their words the closer you got, but you didn’t have to move too close with the way they were shouting.

“Come on, dude! Please, don’t tell me you’re still pissed off about that? It was a fair match!”

“How was that fair, Alexia? The two of you playing together is never fair! You’re both in La Masia for crying out loud! And even more importantly, she was supposed to be on my team! That was the original plan, but you went ahead and took her away!”

“What made you think I took her away?” Alexia crossed her arms, scoffing. “Let’s face it. She likes to play with me more than you.”

“You don’t know that!”

That was the moment Alexia spotted you and before you could even get a word in, she said, “Why don’t we just ask her who she’d rather play with?”

Two sets of intense eyes looked your way and without meaning to, you gulped, taking a step back.

“So? Who would you rather play with: me or her?” Guille asked, eyes wide and pleading. 

Suddenly feeling like you were backed into a corner, you stammered in your panic, “Umm, I—”

[3]

Alexia stayed over for dinner that night. That was normal; what was unusual was she left you alone to do the dishes. You had a feeling where she might be, especially since she’d been mostly quiet throughout the whole evening.

After you put away the last dish in the cupboard, and when your arms were finally free from suds, you took a peek into the living room. She wasn’t there—a confirmation of her whereabouts.

Putting on your flip flops, you headed out of the back door. 

The light from the living room casted a faint glow that dissipated the darkness around the garden when you opened the door that led out to it, aiding you just enough to see Alexia on the swing, sitting still with her back hunched forward. Once you were just a few paces behind her, you saw the contours of her headset, but even with them on, there was no way she didn’t know you were there—the fact that your shadow stretched to reach her before you did was a dead give away. Yet still, she made no move to acknowledge your presence.

Okay. That was fair.

“Ale,” you said softly. 

She gave you a glance before she went back to looking down at her clasped hands. 

“Alexia, come on.” 

Still no response. You fiddled with your thumbs as the moment dragged on. 

You sighed, sitting down on your heels next to her.

“I should’ve told you about the keeper thing,” you muttered. “I wanted to get a feel for it first, to get a bit better at it before I told you. But I didn’t consider how that would make you feel… and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel that I didn’t want or need you by my side, Alexia. I wanted you to think I was good enough for this.” 

Finally, Alexia turned to you, taking her headset off, the movement barely above a whisper. And softly, she spoke, “What made you think that I’ll think you’re not good enough for anything?”

“I don’t know.” You admitted, pulling at the grass in front of you. Your mother would probably see the hole you’d made on the lawn and berate you for it in the morning but you needed something to keep your hands busy. “I just wanted to go through this without too many expectations. And it’s not like I don’t want to keep our dynamic going. I love playing forward with you, Alexia, but I think keeping is my calling, just like midfield is to you.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I completely understand. You didn’t want any added pressure. I’m not going to hold that against you.” 

“Thank you,” you smiled at her. Then, “So, tell me why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking!” Alexia huffed with indignation. Then she looked away again, working her lower lip between her teeth.

You put a hand on her knee. “Alexia, what is it?”

“I…” Alexia sighed, brushing the bridge of her nose with her thumb. You gave her another moment. She heaved another breath before she began.

“That thing you said… Did you really mean it when you said you’d rather play with him than me?”

Oh. So that was what this was about.

“Of course not. We both know it’s always going to be you, Alexia.”

“Then why did you tell him that?”

“I feel like if I didn’t, I’d lose him as a friend.”

“And you’re not worried about losing me?” Alexia cried out, her tone inflected while her eyes reflected her hurt.

You blinked at her. 

There were moments—just like now—where you’d feel a sudden urge to shake Alexia. For all her sharpness and unmatched awareness, she sometimes failed to see even the most obvious of things. Couldn’t she see that you loved her and that you’d follow her to the edge of the earth if she asked you to?

At the absurdity of her question, you really couldn’t help but laugh. You stood up and shuffled behind her before you threw your arms around Alexia’s neck, draping yourself over her broad back, which made the swing move forward. The dampness of her hair felt cool against your cheek, the scent of your shampoo that clung to them filled your senses as you chuckled into her ear. 

“Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”

“Because, Alexia, do you hear yourself? I love you, you idiot!” You giggled again. “I know our friendship isn’t that shallow that I’d lose you over this. Or am I wrong?”

Alexia turned her head and you saw a hint of a smile on her lips. “No, I suppose not.”

A pleasant silence blanketed you both. And then Alexia hummed.

“But if there was something that could break us, what do you think it would be?”

You stopped to ponder, twirling a lock of Alexia’s hair with your finger, noting her hair was nearly dry now. When your mind drew blank, you replied nonchalantly, “Honestly, I have no idea.”

“Good.” Alexia leaned away so she could give you a lopsided smile—an earnest one. “Because me neither.”

[4]

“—you okay?”

You blinked and turned to Alexia. “Hmm?”

She glanced at you for a moment before she turned back to what she was doing, sleeves rolled up as she scrubbed a plate in the soapy water in the sink.

“I said, are you okay? Is there something wrong? You’ve been out of it since practice.” When a moment of silence lapsed, Alexia added, “And don’t think I didn’t notice you on your swing the past few days, too, because I did.”

You looked out the window and watched how the rain sluiced down the glass pane. In the darkness behind the window, you saw glimpses of soaked, curly locks and heard the hasty confession all over again.

You sighed, blinking the memory away.

“Guille asked me out.”

The sound of glass shattering and metal clanging made you jump, and you watched as a casserole pot twirled like a top on the hard, kitchen floor, while fragments of a broken plate skittered out to different directions. 

“Oh, shit!” Alexia cursed, looking down at the mess, while a voice called out from the living room. 

“Alexia, is everything alright in there?'' Came Eli’s voice. A few seconds later, Jaume’s head popped into the kitchen. He glanced at you then his eyes settled on Alexia who was crouched down, looking up guiltily at her father.

“Are you okay, girls?”

“Yes, Papá. I just… dropped some stuff.” Alexia said. You crouched down, too, about to pick up a fragment when Jaume spoke.

“Don’t pick that up, love, you might cut yourself. I’ll do it.” 

Jaume shooed the two of you to a corner he deemed safe and the both of you watched as he picked up the pieces, throwing them in the bin by the back door. Afterwards, he gave Alexia a kiss on her temple, and you a hug and a ruffle to your hair, as he retired for the evening, leaving the two of you again in your own company. Alexia went back to the sink to finish up whatever was left, and you returned to your place on the counter beside her. 

The silence that intruded was cut short by Alexia when she cleared her throat, “So… what did you say?” 

“I haven’t said anything, yet,” you sighed again, looking back out the window, the questions coming back full force. In the eight years you’d known Guille, how long had he harbored those feelings for you? When did it happen? What did you do to make him feel that way?

“Do you like him?” Alexia’s question brought you back to the present.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want him?”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” You laughed slightly, glancing back at Alexia who shrugged her shoulders in answer.

“No, I don’t think so. Desire is a drive, like it makes you want to act. Attraction is just… I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s a weaker feeling. And they complement each other but they’re not the same.”

“And you know this how exactly?” You asked her teasingly, a brow raised.

Alexia averted her eyes, and shrugged your question off with a laugh.

In the moment of silence that followed, you traced Alexia’s profile, and your gaze ended at the elegant curve of the bow of her lips. She looked so pretty casted in the candescent glow of the kitchen light that it made your chest ache just by looking at her. You dropped your eyes to your feet as your mind ran faster than before this entire conversation happened.

Clutching your arms tightly across your chest, you muttered, “I don’t know what I want.” 

[5]

Maybe hoping it would all turn out fine was a bit naive because naturally, Guille didn’t take your rejection well. It was your fault really for expecting otherwise but nevertheless, the inevitable discomfort of disappointment settled like lead in your gut. 

The thing was, you were ready to give Guille the space he needed to accept your boundaries—friends, or nothing at all—and to heal. But accusing Alexia of making you turn against him? Now, that was something you couldn’t let pass. 

He knew he’d crossed a line, too, with the way he kept avoiding you. At first, the silence didn’t bother you; he was hurt, after all. But when the apology never came, you understood that you’d be going through your last year of high school without your closest friend there by your side.

A fortnight passed without any word from him so it surprised you when he showed up at the local meetup that the three of you used to go to. He refused to meet your eyes but he had no problem leveling with the glares Alexia kept giving him. And when you ended up in Alexia’s team, the only sign of his distaste about it was the way his lips flattened to a line. He looked like he was about to say something, but with a slight shake of his head, he turned around and made his way to his teammates.

With one last look at Guille’s retreating back, you tuned back in your team’s conversation.

“—doesn’t need to play keeper. We need her more in the offensive.” Alexia said evenly but when you met her eyes, there was a clear question in them. 

You gave her a slight nod to let her know you were okay. 

She nodded back.

“How will that work? She’s the better keeper.” And then Marco added, “No offense, Julia.” 

Julia only shrugged carelessly, a gesture of nonchalance.

“Julia is perfectly fine and besides, with you, Benji, and Carmen, our backline is already strong. The four of you together lessens our chance of conceding.” Alexia paused, looking over her shoulder to the other team before she faced you all again, continuing, “Our priority is the offensive. What good is a strong backline if we can’t counterattack? That’s why I’m suggesting she play as forward in the meantime, while Martina and I will play as interiors. Does that make sense?”

A collective nodding occurred.

“So just to clarify, we’re playing three–two–one?” Benji asked.

Alexia hummed, nodding her head. “Mostly. If we find the space and some opportunities, we can easily do three–one–two.”

“No pressure on us defenders, right?” Carmen said with a laugh, if not with a hint of nerve. 

Everyone laughed but at the end of it, Alexia placed a hand on Carmen’s shoulder. “No pressure because you guys, as I said, are very strong. You got this.”

Carmen smiled at Alexia at that, nodding before she finally moved to her spot. As you and Alexia moved towards the middle of the pitch, Guille was introduced to your line of sight, and a weight pressed in your gut. Disappointment? Perhaps. Or maybe you just actually missed talking and hanging out with him.

Alexia’s teasing tone pulled away your attention from Guille.  “I hope you haven’t forgotten how to play forward from all the keeping you’ve been doing.”

“Four years of keeping against the five years of playing forward? You need to brush up on your math ‘cause I think you’ve forgotten how to count.” You said dryly, giving her a look so dirty that had her throwing her head back in laughter.

Alexia leveled you with an unimpressed look but her tone remained playful. “You are such a bitch sometimes. You know that, right?”

“Thank you. I do try, you know. It’s my only defense against your smart-mouth.”

“Stop denying you don’t like my teasing.” Alexia waggled her brows as she smirked. The way she looked just then—with both hands on her hips, the ball beneath her left boot—your throat dried, heart racing; a sensation that’d familiarized itself to you during its recurrent visits over the past few weeks. Your mind blanked out, clear as the white of Alexia’s shirt, and when no words came to you to retort back, you shook your head and just laughed. By the time the game started—or maybe it was because it started—the feeling finally went away, replaced by the adrenaline that shot through your veins the moment Alexia kicked the ball to you.

It proved to be a tight game. The main strategy of the opposition seemed to be to mark and shut you and Alexia down whenever the ball so much turned your way. Alexia was right to trust your backline: any counterattack from the other team was dealt with immediately, and Julia only needed to save a handful of shots that passed through your defense, which she handled well.

At last, your team finally made a breakthrough.

Alexia cut a diagonal through the box, taking two of the defenders as she did, freeing up the space just behind her. You knew what she was doing so you faked a sidestep, turning quickly to lose your marker, before you sprinted in towards the middle of the box. And as you anticipated, Alexia sent the ball back to you with a flick of her heel. Now, if you could just—

The ground tilted, and there was a moment where the whole world suspended. It lasted for less than a breath before everything—the sensations and sounds—came rushing back in.

You slammed to the ground. 

Air was squeezed out of your lungs from the impact, while your skull and teeth rattled within the confines of your skin; the taste of green, earth, and copper spread on your tongue. Muffled shouts and grunts filtered past the ringing in your ear but when you cupped a hand over your tender ribs, your resulting groan was all you could hear.

When you finally came to, Alexia’s face was over you, the doubled image of her finally merging into one. Her wide, hazel eyes looked on you with worry and you felt the warmth of her fingers as they grazed over your face: from your temples down to your cheeks which she took in a gentle cradle.

“Alexia?” You let out another groan as you turned on your back while Alexia helped you.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

There was a tension that constricted around the front part of your head, but you could feel the blood pulsing most on the side that collided with the ground. “My head… it hurts.”

“Okay, okay. Just lay down for now, I’ll get you…”

You seemed to have passed out after that because one moment you were lying on the fields, and the next you were beside Alexia on her living room couch. You had a vague recollection of being carried on Alexia’s back, but the feel of the strong plane of her shoulder against your cheek remained there, warm and comforting. 

And only then, after Eli gave you ice for your head, did you see the bruise that bloomed deep in the skin of Alexia’s jaw, just below her left cheek, and the scuffed knuckles of her right hand which were splotched with deep reds and purples.

You took her hand onto your lap, gently running over the ice for your head over her knuckles, while you looked at Eli sitting on the opposite couch with Jaume beside her. Eli’s face burnt redder than you’d ever seen before, while Jaume held onto her hand, circling his thumb over the top of it in an attempt to calm her down.

Alexia remained quiet the whole time, eyes casted down as she took her mother’s reprimanding words. There was the unmistakable shine of shame in them, her guilt, but also an unwavering quality that stood for what she did. At the end of it, Eli and Jaume hugged the both of you before letting you retreat into Alexia’s room as you waited for your parents to arrive.

Instead of getting on her bed with you, Alexia plopped down on the floor just by the foot of the bed, her back against the wooden bedframe. You regarded the back of her head, her neck curved downwards, and you suddenly felt the need to be close to her so you shuffled off her sheets, and got down beside her. 

“Thank you, but your mother was right, you know? You shouldn’t have done it, Alexia.” You mumbled, unfurling her fingers to rest on your knee so you could access more of her knuckles that way. Gently, you placed ice over it, but she still hissed in pain. “You shouldn’t have punched him.”

“Why not? He deserved it.” Alexia said evenly as she stared at the far corner of the room. “And before you start defending him, you didn’t see what I saw—what the rest of us saw. He didn’t even touch the ball—it was all feet. He meant to trip you up.” 

Warmth bloomed in your chest at her words—at how her action showed just how much you meant to her—but the discomfort in your gut marred the surge of your affection for her. 

You took a deep breath, sighed it out, and it tasted like disappointment. 

“Alexia, I appreciate the gesture, I do. But you can’t just hurt people just because they did something to me.” 

Alexia puffed her chest and proclaimed, “I can.”

“Stop that nonsense, Alexia. I mean it.” Firmer now, you said, and there was a hint of desperation in the intonation of your words. There was an urgent need to make Alexia understand the gravity of what she did, what future implications it held if what Eli and you told her didn’t sink in now. “Actions like this can jeopardize you, Alexia, and all the things you worked hard for. Do you understand that? What will Alejandro say when he sees you all bruised up next practice? And if I get tackled dirty during a game and I get hurt, would you risk a red card, or suspension, for behaving like this?”

Alexia became silent, the muscle in her jaw working, and when she turned to you with her mouth open and you spotted a defiant crease in her brows, you were quick to stop her.

“If the answer to that question isn’t no, Ale, I don’t want to hear it.” The sound of teeth clattering filled the air. She casted her gaze aside again, her cheeks growing a shade deeper. “Look at me, Alexia.”

When she kept her eyes glued to the floor, you dropped the ice pack to take her face in your hands. She flinched from the coldness of your fingers but as you looked into her eyes, rimmed with redness and framed by drooping eyelids, you found exhaustion and the shine of apology. You brushed away a matted lock of hair from the tail end of her brow.

“You have a good heart, Alexia, but you have to promise me. Please don’t do something like this again. Ever.” 

Alexia looked into your eyes, deeply as if in contemplation, and then she closed them. A moment later, she sighed, sagging into your touch as if a weight had left her shoulders, before she opened them again. 

“I promise.” 

This time, you believed her.

Smiling softly at her, you whispered, while you placed a light kiss on her cheek. “Thank you.”

Settling into the moment, you rested your head against Alexia’s shoulder, her bruised hand in yours. In the brief silence before your father arrived to pick you up, Alexia spoke in an earnest tone that made your stomach flutter.

“I know you can handle yourself, but that won’t stop me from having your back.”

At her words, your heart felt like it would burst your chest open. And you should’ve known that this was where you’d end up—with her, it seemed inevitable anyway—because the years of you’d known Alexia flashed quickly before your eyes, and the memory stopped to this person beside you, haloed golden by the warm glow of her bedside lamp, and you were hit with a realization that took what little breath you had away.

You liked Alexia.

And, even more importantly, you want her.

[6]

When you got on the field in a Barça jersey for the first time after your return, you didn’t expect to be welcomed like you did. Jona subbed you on after the first half and as you left the tunnel, you heard the crowd chanting your name. The cheers made you feel excited, accepted and seen, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t pressure you at all.

It was originally intended for you to come on during the last twenty minutes, but seeing as Caro, Patri, and Alexia gave the team a comfortable enough lead, Jona decided to sub you on ahead of schedule. You didn’t see much action on your end though, something that you didn’t mind at all—a quiet defensive-third was the best kind. The midfielders kept the midline high to sustain pressure in the offensive-third, while the defenders maintained such a tight backline that any loose through-balls sent to the opposing runners were called offside. Of course, there were a handful of times when you needed to get out of your box to ping the ball back into the offensive, but other than that, it was quiet. When the match ended, you were satisfied that Barça had another clean sheet and four goals to add to the season tally.

For the celebration, you moved with your teammates around Estadi Johan Cruyff, and during the procession, you spied your parents, Eli, and Alba who was talking to a raven-haired woman you’d never seen before, clapping and cheering. Warmth filled you upon seeing your family in the stands again—such a scene was a luxury when you were in the States because plane tickets weren’t exactly cheap—and when you felt the familiar weight of Alexia’s arm slung over your shoulders, the fabric of her captain armband against the skin of your neck, it felt like a perfect homecoming.

Well, almost.

After you’d showered and changed to your casuals, most of the crowd had gone while some lounged about, one of which was the raven-haired woman Alba was talking to. When Alexia took her hand, you knew instantly, and your heart—damn your heart—dropped.

“This is Diana,” Alexia said after the both of them made their way to you. And if it wasn’t their intertwined hands that revealed what they were to each other, their gaze—saccharine when they met—made it all the more clear the nature of their relationship long before Alexia said the words, “my girlfriend.”

Diana beamed up at Alexia, her cheeks deepening in color before she regarded you again, sticking her hand out towards you to shake. Preceding the intention, you took her hand and when you did, Diana placed her other hand over yours, clasping your hand between her warm palms.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Alexia’s talked so much about you.” 

She did? Your eyes flitted to Alexia but when she shied away from that, you focused back on Diana’s face. She was stunning: with her high cheekbones carved to elegance, her brows following the perfect line of her temple, her full lips painted with a terracotta shade made deeper by the bronze of her skin, while her loose, straight, raven hair framed her face in such a way that accentuated the sharpness of her jaws. Her eyes were dark but still light enough to see the outline of her pupils, and they had an amiable shape that reflected her warm nature. And for some reason, her light brown eyes looked really familiar—

“Ah! My favorite cousin made it, after all! Although I’m not sure it was me you went to the game for!” Tori’s playful voice resonated in the near-barren corridor. Diana’s eyes flicked somewhere behind you—to Tori, you supposed.

“Don’t be like that, Tori, of course I came to see you, too!”

“Lies!”

Diana shook her head, laughing, as she took Tori in her arms. “Come here, you!”

In response, Tori said something in Portuguese that made Diana laugh. When they broke apart, Diana said, “Forget you? Never. Especially when I owe you one.”

“Owe her what?” Alexia asked with her brows creased with curiosity.

Diana took Alexia’s hand and squeezed it, looking up at Alexia with a gentle expression. “For giving us the chance to meet.”

“Damn right!” Tori exclaimed, putting both hands on her hips, as she grinned so wide that her dimple showed. Tori must’ve seen your confusion because she leaned in to whisper, “I brought Diana as my plus one for last year’s Ballon D’Or ceremony.”

You allowed your mouth to drop open before you smiled, letting out a small laugh that made your chest ache. “Ah, I see.”

“She kept complaining about going but now, aren’t you grateful I took you away from your precinct, Detective Beauregard?” Tori teased.

“She’s never going to let us live this down, will she?” Diana muttered dryly to Alexia but it was deliberately loud enough for all of you to hear. In response, Alexia threw her head back laughing. 

“You’re a detective? That’s amazing!” You said, impressed.

“Please, Tori’s exaggerating. I work in forensics. DNA analyst is the correct title.” Diana threw Tori a dirty look to which the other woman raised her shoulders in response. “It’s a whole different world compared to yours so—and please don’t let this get to your head, Tori—I am grateful I was able to step into it.”

Her eyes, still locked with Alexia’s, grew all the more soft.

“Get a room, you guys,” Tori said with a mock sound of disgust, and then she continued to mutter, “And to think that you’ve only been going out for four months… I don’t even want to think about how it will be like in another three months.”

At that, Alexia raised a brow and then, “Want to do some extra laps tomorrow?”

You and Tori knew Alexia was joking, but Tori being Tori, she spluttered, “That would be a hard no, Captain. I’ll just—Have a great night!” 

With that, she ran away, arms flailing behind her in an exaggerated manner as she hastily made her exit. The sight drew laughter from the three of you.

“We’re having dinner at Mamá’s, want to come over?” Alexia asked.

You shook your head, flashing a look at Diana, before you told Alexia,“Not tonight. I’m just about to head over to my parents’ as well.”

“Alright. But Alba’s going to ask about you, you know? I think she wants to hang  out with you.”

You laughed. “Tell her to text me. She’ll know what that means.”

“Is that something I should know about?” Alexia smirked.

Flatly, you retorted, “If it’s something that concerns you, I’d be telling you by now, right?” 

“You see what I have to deal with?” Alexia told Diana, almost whining.

Inching backwards, you said as dry as you could manage, “I’ll take that as my queue to leave, Alexia might start crying. She’s a crybaby, you know?” 

“Hey! I’m not—”

“No need to be embarrassed about it, Alexia. Be proud!”

Diana only laughed, saying, “Alright, kids, I think that’s enough for tonight.”

Nodding, you grinned at Alexia while she mouthed the word ‘bitch’ to you. In kind, you mouthed ‘smartmouth’ back. With a shake of her head and a smile, she gave you one last hug, and after a pleasant goodnight from Diana, the three of you parted ways.

You sent them a look over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the watch around Alexia’s left wrist. It glinted as they walked together down the corridor, hand in hand, looking as in love as any new couple would. 

The sight made you smile, but it felt heavy, and as if the universe wanted to rub salt to the wound, you found Patri outside the locker room when you turned around with a look akin to pity in her eyes.

[7]

The next day, Guille stopped by at your place. He’d given you notice a few days prior but even still, the moment you saw him behind the door, you squealed like you were ten again from your excitement. After you hugged him tight—he made a choking noise when you did to tease you—you held him at arm’s length to see what changes the last few months had done to him.

He looked different. Gone were the long, dark curls; now sheared close to his scalp that left only about an inch of length, his hair retained their luscious shine, their color still as dark as night. 

His scar—the one just by the tail end of his left brow—that used to see little light from the obstruction of his hair, now stood apparent and without meaning to, the day he got it came back to you: the bruised knuckles, ice-cold fingers, and the warm blush of a lamplight.

 And your chest ached a little.

Leading the conversation to the living room, the two of you ended up ordering takeaways—mostly for Guille’s benefit because you weren’t about to subject him to your football diet—and as you ate, the two of you caught up.

Guille was close to finishing his dissertation—the biomechanics of concussion in sport and its neurocognitive implications—and he was both excited and fearful about what would come next. He then talked about his girlfriend, Iris, smittenly if you might add. She was actually with him in the city, but his mother insisted she steal Iris for the day for some quality bonding, and you laughed at the repertoire of stories he’d relayed in great detail about his mother’s teasing of their relationship.

“When am I going to meet Iris?” You asked with a teasing tone.

He rolled his eyes, “Well, since you’re actually staying in Barcelona this time, we can arrange that.”

A pause, and then, “Is Alexia staying here, too, or are you here by yourself?”

“No, it’s just me here.”

“Oh. I thought the two of you’d be rooming again like—” Probably seeing your change in demeanor, Guille cleared his throat as he ate his pasta a bit too eagerly. “Speaking of, how is she?”

The question was casual but you knew it was anything but.

“She’s doing good, if not a little stressed. Our first Champions League game is just around the corner after all and it’s against Chelsea, so.” You shrugged to complete your thought. You knew what he was asking but you’d rather not talk about that.

His eyes could burn a hole on the side of your head by the way he stared at you in the silence that followed. Then he sighed deeply.

“She still doesn’t know.”

Tension filled every inch of your body and you shrank tight as a coiled spring. You stood up as you felt a sudden urge to get away from him, taking the used plates on the coffee table as a pretense to move from the couch to the sink.

“What’s it to you if she doesn’t know, Guille?” You asked flatly, rolling up your sleeves after you turned the tap on.

“I just want you to be happy. Is that so wrong?”

“And who says I’m not?” Your tone was flat and when you glanced at him over your shoulder, Guille only gave you a pointed look.

Then he said softly, “She could make you happier and you know it.”

And there it was again, that look in his eyes that you just couldn’t stand. Gritting your teeth, you gripped the edge of the sink and your voice quaked when you spoke. “Please stop talking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like,” you tried to find the words but when they evaded you, you huffed and threw your hands up in the air. “Why are you making it sound like I have a chance?”

“Because you do! You’re the one who’s not giving Alexia a chance by not telling her.”

“Give me one good reason why I should.”

“She loves you.”

A pause.

“That’s bullshit.” You shook your head, letting out a small, disbelieving laugh. As much as your heart wanted that to be true, you knew otherwise.

“It’s really fucking not.” Guille countered.

“If she did, she wouldn’t have said what she did.” 

“People say stupid shit when they’re drunk.”

“That can go the other way, too. Alcohol has a way of loosening what’s been bottled.”

“Oh, come on!” Guille scoffed. “You’ve known her since you were eight. You’ve been through thick and thin together! Do you really think she wanted you to leave?”

With the reminder, the memory sprung up on you and you could hear Alexia’s voice, grating and wrenching your heart raw again when you heard the words from her lips. You whirled around to face him, eyes burning.

“You weren’t there when she told me, Guille!” You breathed out sharply and then you continued, in a lower tone filled with resignation, you whispered as you buried your face in your palms. “You didn’t hear the way she said it. You didn’t—”

You choked on your words. 

After all this time, it was still too painful.

Darkness filled your vision but the tears escaped nonetheless, branding tracks down your cheeks. You heard the rustling of clothes followed by soft footsteps. Before you knew it, Guille’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and his familiar, comforting scent made you sink into the embrace.

“You’re right. I wasn’t there. But if you could forgive me for being an asshole and what I did to you, why can’t you do the same with her?”

You didn’t say anything after that, only clutched at his shirt a little tighter.

Guille kept quiet, too.

The both of you knew just the reason why.

[8]

“Did you see the news?” Jona asked as he kept the door open for you to an empty meeting room, closing it as soon as you’d gone in. 

Sitting down on one of the cushioned chairs, you said, “I did.”

You saw it this morning and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t faze you. 

Jona nodded, taking the chair across the table from you. He put his clasped hands on the wooden surface and the way he tapped an erratic rhythm with his thumbs didn’t help your nerves.

“Lyon paid a hefty transfer fee for her and that makes me worried. I don’t know what Bompastor is planning to do with her but her transfer to the European league will be a concern for the club.” With a pensive crease appearing between his brows, he continued. “You probably know why I asked you to come in.”

“You want me to tell you what I know about her.”

He nodded, leaning forward as if to emphasize his point. “She’s a lethal forward and you’re the only one in the club who’s ever played with her. In fact, you two seemed very close during your time in Angel City.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back into your chair, frowning slightly. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

Jona blinked at you.

Then slowly, “Surely you must’ve trained closely together considering she’s a forward and you’re a keeper? Unless training was vastly different in Angel City, then I’m sorry for the assumption.”

“O–Oh, I thought you were implying—” You shook your head, uncrossing your arms as you waved the rest of your sentence away. “Never mind. But yes, that’s right.”

Jona gave you another questioning look before speaking again. 

“She’s going to be a big problem. And that’s why I’m going to change things up a bit. I want to put you in the starting lineup as soon as possible—put as many games with our current team under your belt. We’ll most likely face Lyon in the Quarters and that’s unfortunate but what is great is that you’re here: the best counter to what Lyon acquired. If we could eliminate Lyon early, we have a higher chance of winning this year’s Champions League. The question is, are you ready for it?”

“That’s what I’m here for, Jona.” You said seriously, ignoring the pressure that pressed in the periphery of your mind.

“Use me.”

[recent-rose]

yknowwww there is something... deeply uncomfortable about the way mel never speaks directly to viktor in the 'build hextech weapons' scene. she really only speaks to jayce. plenty of people have pointed this out already but like the one scene they actually share a meaningful interaction and she treats him like he's beneath her. all this after jayce has emphasized how important viktor is, that hextech is theirs, together. she unequivocally ices him out, there's no other way to interpret this scene. the way it's shot too - from viktor's perspective, looking up at her, as though to reinforce the same belief in him. like he doesn't even bother expecting respect from her - or anyone from the upper echelon of piltover. he's fully accustomed to being dehumanized by everyone around him at this point. sometimes even by jayce, despite the trust they clearly have in each other.

then of course after this scene is viktor experimenting on himself. it's pretty clear that he has internalized his own dehumanization. crazy.

[mauswyx]

old ties, new beginnings [ch.2]

Thomas Hewitt x f!reader: ch1 // ch3

TLDR: By chance, Thomas encounters someone from his past and gets to be treated like a normal guy for an afternoon–except he doesn't want the treatment to stop. [pt.2]

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

CW: mention of past trauma/abuse, slight nudity

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“I’m really glad you remember me...”

She was sitting with her legs sprawled out in front of her while she leaned back onto her hands, staring out over the lake-top as the warm breeze gently weaved through her hair. The lake was practically still, save for a few ducks that had flown down; she watched as they preened their feathers and dove for fish.

Thomas gave a low hum to let her know he had heard her; he was sitting cross-legged a meter or so behind her, pulling at the grass around him. The ever looming thought of what he’d have to do made him nervous. A part of him hoped you’d excuse yourself right now and leave; Hoyt would find you—take you back to the house and you’d just be cattle again. It would be easier that way. He could put on his face and you’d never know it was him…your dying thoughts wouldn’t be hate for him. The image of you dying caused a pain in his chest; the pain only worsened when the thought of you calling out for him, begging him to save you flooded his mind. Would your final words be his name on your tongue? To his horror, the idea excited him. You had been nothing but compassionate towards him–a beacon of warmth when all anyone else had done was treat him like an animal, a beast. And here he was, daydreaming about slaughtering you.

With a slight groan you pulled your stiff legs to your chest, snuggly wrapping your arms around them with a satisfied purr. His shirt rode up your thighs and rested around your hips, slightly exposing your bottom; with a grunt he darted his eyes away from your flesh. He didn’t deserve to look at you in such a way–not when he was going to be the one to wipe you from this earth. His fists clenched at the dead grass as the situation weighed on him; he didn’t want to do it. He really didn’t. He wanted to stay in this moment forever–wanted to live in a time where you wanted his company, content to sit in his presence without fear or judgment. In this moment you were alive. Alive with him. 

He looked to the sky, to whatever god Mama had long since given up on getting him to pray to, for an answer. No one else had ever done the things you had done and it had to mean something. It had to.

It had been him to stumble upon you, no one else, like you were a gift left by the heavens waiting just for him. His. Straightening his back and releasing his grip on the grass, the thought dawned on him. You could be his. Everyone else seemed to have their own company–be it sisters, pets, or working girls–so why couldn’t he? He could be good to you: he would treat you much better than a pet and substantially better than the way Hoyt treated his guests. 

He’d take care of all your needs–you’d be his responsibility, he was the one inaugurating you after all. You’d be well fed, he wouldn’t rest until you had a full stomach every night; you’d never get bored, sitting in with Mama and his aunt on their lunchins or more realistically tending to your own chores around the homestead; and though he, himself, didn’t really care for bathing, he figured a respectable woman such as yourself would, so he’d make sure you had every opportunity to stay clean; the house had many rooms but most of them were filled with clutter so you’d have to wait a bit before getting your own room. He pondered for a moment, thinking about what room would suit you best; he liked the idea of you having one of the rooms with the fancy windows that Mama once cherished. In the meantime, you’d have to stay in his room…have to share a bed with him too. His fingers twitched at the thought of sleeping next to you. He had to physically shake his head, when the thought of you waiting-up for him at night after a hard day's work–unable to sleep without him crept into his head; he couldn’t get distracted by such thoughts, there was still so much left to work-out.

You had sealed your fate upon entering the town’s border; in his heart-of-hearts, Thomas knew this was the only way to keep you alive and that’s all he wanted; that’s all that mattered. You’d definitely need some adjusting to their way of life–you were a saint but he knew not even you could understand right away why they needed to do the things they did, but you could learn. He’d keep you alive–even if it killed you.

The sound of a sniffle pulled him from his plotting.

You had hidden your face in the crook of your arms that now rested atop your knees, while he had thought out his plan. Oh no. What had he done? Did you finally realize how disgusting he was and were mortified to be with him? Had you said something personal and he had ignored you–too caught up in his own world? How could he be so selfish! He let out a whine as his thoughts ran wild with possibilities of what he could’ve done to upset you. It felt as though his very world was crumbling around him–keeping you needed the foundation of you not despising him.

“I’m sorry…” you huffed out, raising your head to wipe at your eyes, “I’m just…I’m sorry!” The tears began flowing freely despite your efforts to contain them. You felt pathetic for crying, you had nothing to cry about when it was Thomas who had been the victim.

“They were so c-cruel to you-ou,” you hiccuped through sobs, “and I did noth-hing!”

For years you had watched as they had treated him less-than the dirt beneath their feet and you had been too much of a coward to even defend him. To even console him. Having only been a child did little to console you: even at such a young age, you knew what they were doing was wrong and you still chose to turn a blind eye. You were no better than any of the other children who had run away from him or the townspeople who had mistreated him; you knew you deserved whatever punishment they had coming. Had he not only been just a child, as well? How was it fair for him to be treated like a walking-disease, merely for being different, while other children got to live normal lives at no cost at all. It was maddening and the guilt for not having done anything to prevent his abuse or ease it was tearing you apart. 

“Oh Thomas, I’m so sorry! You didn’t deserve-”

The words died in your throat as the sound of settling grass alerted you of his presence. He was kneeling next to you now, holding out an uncertain hand mere centimeters away from your face. His hand was formed as though he was intending to cup your face but wanted permission. His stormy eyes couldn’t keep yours as he shifted his gaze around nervously. How could he be so considerate towards you? He should hate your very being. You wanted to turn your head away from him, you didn't deserve his comfort. He should just leave you to rot! But you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away; choking back a sob, you leaned into his touch–allowing him to bring you solace. He wasted no time in sweeping your guilty tears away with the pad of his thumb and gently massaging at your temple. His tender care only made you want to cry more.

Thomas couldn’t help but admire how bewitching you looked while you cried softly against his hand: wet eyelashes pressed against puffy-flushed cheeks and cherry-red lips turned into a soft pout. And when your eyes opened, to peer into his own–he hated to think it but you truly did look pitiful. Looking up at him like he was the only thing that could soothe your pain. The tight feeling in his chest returned. He didn’t care about the past, or rather he didn’t care about what you didn’t do in the past. He knew what you did do and that was enough for him. Everyone else’s actions had nothing to do with you so how could he fault you, the only person to ever treat him like he was worthy of some human decency? He had grown accustomed to the insults and the physical tormenting stopped when he hit his growth spurt; those that continued to pester him after which were no more significant than gnats buzzing in his ear. Even now when unruly cattle would hurl insults at him, he knew it was all meaningless. At the end of the day they were still just that–cattle. To Thomas, you had done nothing wrong and there was no need for you to apologize–it only crushed him to see you so distraught over something you had no control over.

Overcome with emotion, he leaned closer to you and let out a whine into your hair. 

The unexpected proximity was startling, Thomas had all but engulfed you into himself. Though you didn’t mind. He was warm and smelled of musk and something else you couldn’t quite place–it was almost metallic. The smell was comforting nonetheless. You leaned into him–absent mindlessly closing the small gap in between you–grazing your nose just under where his mask met his skin, trying to figure out what that smell was. The sudden contact must have startled Thomas as you felt him tense around you, but he made no move to remove himself from you.

“Is this ok?” you breathed out, not wanting to take advantage of his goodwill. You could feel the rumble in his throat and his hair tickle your face as he gave a singular-short nod.

With your new allowance, you leaned fully into him: tucking your arms in between you as you grasped at his stained-shirt, burrowing your face against his neck to ride out the remainder of your tears.

“I really am sorry…” you muttered against his skin, you could feel him shiver but you couldn’t bring yourself to move away. He was warm and the skin-contact was soothing. His breathing was heavy and you could feel another rumble pass through his throat as he just barely grazed against the now-dry shirt on your back–giving you time to push him away–before settling against you. You could feel as he moved to lean his own head against yours, his warm breath showered against your ear. You stifled another sob against him with a whine, this awkward side hug was far more than you deserved.

A fire burned in Thomas’s chest as he clutched you closer to himself. In this moment, with this small act, you had proven to him that he was correct: you were different and there was no doubt about it–you being brought back to him was so that he could make you his. And he would be damned if anyone tried to take you away from him. 

The sun felt warm against your skin and the heat that Thomas expelled only heightened it, your earlier swimming and recent crying fit had finally worn you out. Your eyes fought against the pull of sleep, but ultimately the rise and fall of Thomas's chest against you lulled you into the unconscious abyss.

[wildstar25]

Sunning the day away~

[xxplastic-cubexx]

I really love how you portray how much Erik loves having Charles use his telepathy on him. He's like yeaaa let my hubby penetrate my mind while I penetrate his bo– *anon gets mindwipe*

I DIDNT EVEN THINK OF CHARLES USING ERIKS OWN POWERS TO RESTRAIN HIM WAAAAAAIT your mind ………….. just opened a whole new door to perverted possibilities thank you ………