#listen this might be a stupid thing to say and maybe it is
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#listen this might be a stupid thing to say and maybe it is#but I love that Merida has the same jawline as me#not to get too vulnerable on main but that’s smth I’m stupidly insecure about and I like that she’s got the same#I love her btw#brave is such a great movie#my art#brave#disney brave#merida
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'...you know jokes like those actually hurt me, right?'
"who said I was joking?"
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'oh.'
#vent#personal#delete later#so um#i don't talk with my family about stuff often cuz#they don't really listen#it's#they always think I'm putting on airs or acting when I say something#i mean#it's not#i don't really know whether or not i actually have a problem#but sometimes i check over my behavior and#some of it doesn't seem normal?#i mean i don't know i'm not an expert and my opinion doesn't mean much but#it just doesnt seem like something we're supposed to experience#so i'll tell them sometimes#well actually i've told them multiple times that i feel like something isn't right#i mean we told them about our back and leg pain maybe 3 years ago?#that wasn't taken seriously#even when i fell the first time it wasn't taken seriously#it took me actually breaking down and crying to miss a singular day of school#mentally speaking i think i might have something going on#i mean i've told my brother that i might have depression and#he just brushes it off and jokes about it#we get home and tell him we've had a bad day and he'll joke about how the m22's there for me and its#it really hurts but no one takes me seriously and i don't know if we're overreacting or if there's genuinely something wrong#in april the thing with my legs happened again and the next day i was told that i was fine and that i needed to go back to school and#And that's not wrong i've never missed school i don't miss school even when i am sick i take a day off and bounce right back but#It kind of feels like they don’t take me seriously?#this is stupid sorry i’ll take this down later
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Was looking into this person's eyes or rather it felt as if he looked into my eyes ... up close and in such an open and soft way.
It was something
#thank you to vavie for making me do the meet and greet#he was like....deeply listening to what i said...maybe? or maybe thinking about something completely different lol but in any case seemed#acutely oresent#i'm not sure what I actually said#he mentioned that RTC was gonna be on hulu#i only realized afterward that this might mean that its gonna be on disney+ in europe!!!!!! 🌷#which would be cool#i hope i didnt make too much of a fool of myself? 🤔#at the end I kinda thought about what else i was gonna say and told him that i had written down some thoughts on my hand and he was like ...#...“like talking points”#at the end he said my name again which i guess is a nice touch thanks to the organisation of the whole thing#well it was a nice touch but also...#between that and him getting lost in my eyes uh me getting lost in his....like#🫠😵💫#it's just an intense couple of seconds of my stupid life i guess?#he looked....so good#dd#duchovny#txf#xfiles
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boo *exu calamity au’s your bad kids*
#riz cerrit gorgug laerryn kristen zerxus fig loquatius adaine patia & fabian nydas btw. if anyone cares#(nightmare king era cass as asmodeus… obviously w/ fig instead but ayda evandrin… ANYWAYSSS)#i can’t remember her name but that One Bitch patia & laerryn hated is kipperlily copperkettle… patia as adaine for that let’s go haters!#need to do a rewatch honestly just to Remember shit also to maybe fully flesh this out#like i have a lot of thoughts here that i could expand upon rn but i’ve forgotten SO many parts of calamity atp bc i’m not into cr &-#have only watched it fully the one time & just generally rewatched certain parts idk how many times#me trying to explain how nydas’s perspective shift with the prophecy is sooo fabian but i can’t remember literally anything: so uh… because-#fantasy high#the bad kids#listen these tags might not be saying much of anything but when i say fig gorgug ayda loquatius laerryn evandrin TRUST ME ok… it’s sooo#same w/ zerxus asmodeus kristen nk!cassandra#also thing i think is funny: purvan or whoever is tracker & trackerbees are still exes and there’s just CRAZYYYY gay tension in every scene#wait i’m sorry even more stupid idea: yk how nydas has the hodmedods? fabian has those rats that show hole. there’s truly an army of them
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#I get tired of people trying to explain what lens I should view the world through; what way I could think that would make everything better#forgive me but I don't care; I do what I do and I do what I can and you don't see the work I do under the hood#I don't want advice on self validation or whatever; I want... I want someone to hold a mirror up so I can actually see myself#by which I mean I want input on how I'm doing; if it's good enough; if it's worth anything; if anything I make is good#everyone things I'm nice; everyone has always thought I'm nice#but given nice leaves me profoundly isolated I don't think I care#not to mention in my opinion what nice in this instance means is that I'm capable of listening#it's mostly that I have manners rather than some quality about me#I'm well behaved and polite and can listen; and that's perceived as nice or even sweet#and it's not like I'm offended by people seeing me that way; but maybe you can get why... I can't do anything with that information#but if I'm doing enough... if I provide any value to the world... I might have heard that less times in my life than years I've lived#that's where I'm totally blind#people don't tend to offer any input; and also people don't tend to let me know what they're thinking#and I in fact am not a mind reader; I can often accurately infer things; but no of that means a thing till it's confirmed#and... well... hopefully no one reads the stupid shit I say and especially not the tags so this is safe and hidden#but truthfully people just like to hear that stuff they're doing is wanted and matters#and I do not#I don't know... gotta go do more cleaning cause I need to#and I have no idea if... I've got a reason for fighting so hard to clean; but I get very little input so... I expect... well...#and thankfully I don't think they read my tags so I can say this#but I really expect they won't take me up on my offer to come out here and get away from their parents; so there will be no pay off#not that I blame them in the slightest... it's just the only possible pay off for this cleaning would be helping someone I like out#and a scrap of company#but then again... in many ways anyone coming out to live with me is the worst thing they could probably do#sorry... I have a rather bleak outlook on many things surrounding myself purely cause of what I infer from the past#there is never pay off; only more shit I need to get done#I will never be loved; I will never be wanted; I will always just kinda be an afterthought that's occasionally worth venting to#no one will ever be particularly interested in anything I'm interested while I'll chase their interests or at least try to#certainly let them talk about them when they want#...though I take that over my normal total isolation... better to at least be permitted to follow in someone's shadow than have nothing
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i keep getting irrationally miffed at ppl 😐😐
#'impressed by how much u can talk abt this considering youve not played either game'#fuck off. as if im not just trying to show interest bc u + another friend are both into them + constantly talk abt them in our gc!!#i mean since u guys talk abt them all the time + theyre huge on tumblr like. it would be hard for me to not know anything abt them at all#literally what else can i talk to u guys abt anyway. i dont think there are any interests i personally have that they both gaf abt#if anything they actively dislike most of the things im hyperfixated on. or at least she does so like i cant bring that up can i.#all i did was share a post i saw on tumblr that i thought was funny. its not like i had some negative/controversial opinion#i just saw it and thought hey that makes me think of my friends bc they like those things maybe theyll find it funny too!!#dog sitting outside the door with rly big sad eyes offering them a stick i found in a puddle#i like listening to them talk and i will eventually play some of the games theyre into myself cuz they make them sound rly cool#and even if theyre not my kind of thing i like sharing interests with other ppl and sometimes thats enough for me to be able to enjoy it#i literally own some of them already but im just not in the mental space to start smth new right now. which i have SAID!!!!#why do u even care girl. as if u dont already have a ton of friends playing it that ur talking to abt it???? i wont have anything to add#and thats not gonna stop u from being able to talk to me abt it anyway????? like 2/3 of our conversations atm are abt bg3#man. i know its not that deep but it makes me kinda sad for some reason. im just trying. i guess next time ill just let u guys talk-#to each other or at me and not comment or say anything so u can pretend im not here or whatever it is u want#ughh. she probably didnt even mean it like that and ill feel stupid for getting annoyed and delete this later but whatever.#might work out early today and then i can like draw or play a game or smth the rest of the day. alright lets go#.vent#listening to my silly little jfunk/jazz/soul playlist and i already feel over it. healing
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#derogatory way anon#no I don’t think she does#(i cant say for sure because ive never listened to it)#i was only saying it’s a bit incoherent and inconsistent#to preach about mental health and stuff when you call literally fans names lol#but like maybe she grew up and then understood#saying things like delusiona-insane-crazy whatever only keep corrupting the stigma around mental health and the conditions related to it#you know i give time and space for people to learn#but then she failed again with the palestinian conflict… and i was like#‘naaaaah she’s just a girl you know’#the thing is… people shouldn’t hold this people on a pedestal#and we shouldn’t ask them to be smart or politically aware or to give opinion#mostly because… they are allowed to not have opinions and more important#because their opinions might be not what we like lol#anyway just to publicly announce it#i blocked her long ago and so did with her mom <3#(i blocked for the usual stupid thing she said on ig that had to do with covid and travelling and#how she had to give up things and holidays… when she was literally in italy lmao) she could be hilarious#COULD BE but unfortunately she’s not haha
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My mom was just like ahhh Im anxious to go out of my comfort zone and I was like you’re good how is this out of your comfort zone you’ve done this before and she was like why do you always judge my feelings and say I’m not allowed to feel that way I should feel some other way and I’m sitting here like :| as if she hasn’t done that to my my entire life and as if I didn’t mean you’ve done this before as a you got this sentiment not get over urself
#literally she said that and I just put my headphones on and went into my room bc if I had stayed out there I would’ve said ‘like you’ve done#to me my entire life’ and she would’ve had a shitty night and yelled and/or cried at me and I would’ve felt bad#so I just put my headphones on and walked away and it’s just like god how can she be so fucking unaware#like I got these fucking habits from somewhere like you think maybe growing up depressed and suicidal in a family that didn’t talk about or#publicly feel their emotions made it difficult for me to express things and you think maybe you making me feel bad constantly because of my#depression and on top of my depression might have transferred into me saying things that hurt you and not meaning it#but I can’t say any of this becusse obviously she didn’t mean it at the time she didn’t know how to deal with me but fuck man it just fucks#me up cause i don’t want to be constantly trying to get pay back against my mother or whatever but I also feel like she’s constantly trying#to say shit to me about her going on dates or whatever when I have repeatedly told her I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t like when#she jokes about it and I tell her to like get a hobby other than men and like I’m joking but I’m fucking not#like she spends all her time out with guys or talking about guys or texting guys while we’re supposed to be hanging out and I have both#never felt more isolated and alienated from my family and have never felt this weirdly connected to my family#like I feel like how my mother felt when I was doing stupid shit and she didn’t want to say anything and when she did I’d be an asshole but#she’d be right and idk it’s just like how do I stay mad at my mother while doing the same things she did to me then#but how do I stop doing them if I can’t address why I’m doing it and how do I address it if I feel like I need to tell her#but I’ve told her and it doesn’t help it only makes her feel bad#how do I let myself feel my emotions. how has everyone else been doing it this whole time and it’s fucking impossible for me#ugh.#fuck.#I’m gonna take one of my crying edibles and see if I can get listening to some sad music and let some tears out of my face#and then I’m gonna play Minecraft tonight with 🧍🏻 and he doesn’t know I have a pet bird yet or about my trip so that’ll be fun
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bro just for shits i was like lemme check out this stranger con thing i saw noah tweet out bc it’s like a 45 minute drive from my house maybe it’ll be a fun weekend excursion. and that shit is so expensive. oh my god. like i get that these fuckers are like Big Celebs but oh my god. $100 for an autograph?? ON TOP of the general admission fee??? bye omg
#i say things#maybe if i like. actually cared about celebs i would do it but like#naw bro LOL that is so crazy#like no shade to ppl who do spend the money and do wanna meet these people#like i love that people look up to these folks like that or admire their work or w/e#but every time i think about like. what would i say if i met this person i really like#i just totally draw a complete and utter blank#like 'hey ur good at ur job' is all i can think of ghfsdjkg#the ONLY person i've ever been like 'i have this thing i wanna say to them' about is#mamo miyano. bc his music just makes mme so stupid happy#like if i ever went to a concert and he did like a meet and greet or w/e#i might pay the extra X amount of money just to be like#'literally your music makes me so happy. if im ever sad or pissed off#all i have to do is listen to your music and i have an instant smile on my face'#but he is the Only Man who i will ever be able to come up with other words for#i guess if i paid the $150 or w/e to meet noah#it would be like 'hey congrats on coming out im super happy for you#i cant even imagine what it's like being as in the spotlight as you are#in a time where queer people are being more and more hated by govts at large#and deciding that you wanted to be open about that part of yourself. welcome to the club'#but like. am i gonna pay that much money to do that. no#ANYWAY ramble over i was just. so blown away by how expensive it was LOL#like i get it but at the same time. holy shit
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ow ow ow ow owowowowow FUCKING OW OW QUIT
#j’s a bloody mess#guess who finally read the eng translations of あいしていたのに (maretu). meeeeeee /neg#now i really do wonder how things wouldve been if we quit back then#i guess i shouldve listened huh? ‘always so stubborn’ right?#i guess you got what you wanted in the end right?#i guess its stupid to even be thinking about it now#part of me wishes i still had those chats. just to remember exactly what was said#but. there gone forever now.#like it never even happened#maybe its for the best that i cant.#whatever. thinking about this was stupid#might private later idk#(pls this song feels like a constant stream of slaps in the face saying ‘i told you so’ but its still so good 😭)#cough. anyways! knittibg timeeee#Jiro nitos depression irl
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an open fly walking
i didnt like this one but i thought id finally air it out since its been sat in my folders for months now
TG: hey karkat
CG: YEAH?
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TG: you ever noticed you like
TG: walk weird
CG: WOW, OKAY.
CG: HAVE *YOU* EVER NOTICED THAT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT?
TG: pff
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TG: no listen because i got my ears scoping that shit im like a scouter for dude activity
TG: ok maybe me mentioning it to you is gonna fuck up your ecosystem or something but
TG: you have the heaviest feet of the century man
CG: I DO???
TG: just thrust them straight down into the ground like youre trying to homebrew a san andreas fault
TG: viciously tamping on tectonic plates hoping for top score on the richter scale
TG: waging war against solid particles and the basic flow of gravity
TG: i could ID those footfalls out of a million i mean it
CG: SERIOUSLY?
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TG: i mean theres nothing wrong with it but
TG: yeah
CG: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU'RE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW.
TG: im not fucking with you striders honor
TG: when have i ever lied to anybody about anything
CG: NOT UNPACKING THAT QUESTION WITH YOU TODAY.
CG: BUT SHIT, HOLD ON. LET ME SEE.
TG: yeah take the umbrella go over there and just walk to me
CG: ON IT.
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TG: see you just kinda slam em straight down dude
CG: THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY RIOTOUS FUCKING JOKE OF A LIFE.
TG: dont your feet ache
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CG: MOOT POINT. THIS MIGHT SOUND INSANE BUT I'VE ACTUALLY HAD MY STRUT PODS FOR A WHILE. ANY KIND OF PAIN THIS WOULD'VE BEEN CAUSING WOULD BE TOTALLY FILTERED OUT OF MY SPONGE BY NOW AS BACKGROUND NOISE.
TG: damn i didnt think that through
TG: my shades
CG: ALRIGHT, GET BACK UNDER THE SHITTING UMBRELLA AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME.
TG: look ive fucked myself over here too i dont have shit to clean these with
TG: ugh
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TG: guess its karma
CG: HOLY FUCK. HOW DID I NEVER NOTICE THIS BEFORE?
TG: i dunno but im gonna assume having a dad thats a literal crab monster is probably a contributing factor
TG: im guessing thats not a great role model for this kinda thing
TG: just conjecture i mean
CG: YOUR ENVY IS OVERWHELMINGLY OBVIOUS DAVE. AS A DISCLAIMER, HE WOULD'VE ABSOLUTELY KICKED YOUR ASS.
TG: yeah probably
CG: THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL THERE IS TO SAY ON THE MATTER.
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TG: but see bro had me stringent on feather feets
TG: i bet i could slip across a bike horn warehouse with nary a fucking toot
CG: HAHA. ASSUMING YOU DON'T MAKE A TOTAL ASS OF YOURSELF, AS PER USUAL.
CG: IF YOU WEREN'T CONSTANTLY RUNNING YOUR GASH ABOUT EVERYTHING AND BEING AN INIMITABLE CLOWN I SERIOUSLY THINK YOU COULD BE ON PAR WITH YOUR CUSTODIAN.
CG: THAT IS A MONUMENTAL "IF".
TG: well look at it this way
TG: im basically doing you all a favor by being a dumbass
TG: never gonna get caught off guard by the bozo patrol
CG: WOW. GOOD POINT.
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TG: also screw this can i use your shirt
TG: this stupid hoodie is just smudging my lenses up
TG: i cant see dick
CG: UH
CG: SURE, I GUESS.
TG: cool
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TG: so yeah i could be prowling around like a goddamn verbal assassin sniping convos left and right
TG: but no ive got the decency to go bunp in the night
CG: YEAH.
CG: IT'S DEFINITELY COMPOUNDED BY THE CONSTANT INANE RAMBLINGS.
CG: BUT
CG: IT'S ACTUALLY PRETTY RELAXING, Y'KNOW? IT HAS ITS OWN RHYTHM.
TG: see yeah i sound it off and
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TG: wait really?
CG: YEAH
CG: I DON'T KNOW
CG: FUCK. HOW DO I EXPLAIN THIS WITHOUT WANTING TO CRAM MY FROND DOWN MY PROTEIN CHUTE.
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CG: IT'S LIKE
CG: A SALVE FOR MY AGGRAVATION SPONGE.
CG: YOUR VOICE IS THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT OF ASPIRIN.
TG: uh damn karkat hold your hoofbeasts i was talking about the rhythm thing
CG: ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. I'M TAKING US BOTH THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW. YOU HAVE REACHED THE BAD END OF THIS CONVERSATION.
TG: you think thatd be heroic or just
CG: IF I WAS STILL GHOSTING AROUND THE RUINS OF SGRUB'S ARCANE FRIGGIN GAME SYSTEMS, THE COMPLETE LACK OF SHIT AFOOT NOWADAYS WOULD BORE ME TO DEATH.
CG: LIKE. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME OUR THERMAL HULL LEVELLED UP, DAVE?
TG: hah
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TG: but uh
TG: i mean we had aspirin on earth
CG: NO, NUMBNUBS.
CG: I'M SAYING YOU ARE MY ASPIRIN.
TG: oh
CG: YEAH, TAKE THAT TO THE BANK AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR 20-KARAT ASS.
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TG: heh
TG: well get this
TG: i will literally talk at you forever for free
TG: you got lifetime priority seating for the davealogues
TG: never gotta go to the drugstore again you can just get doped up on my dulcet tones for the rest of time
TG: take that and some of this
TG: im packin punches
CG: OW, FUCK! NO! MY MIGRAINES!
CG: SWEEPS OF VEINCLOTTING AND NERVEFRAYING DOWN THE FUCKING GAPER. BECAUSE OF YOU.
CG: YOU ASSHOLE, THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME.
CG: AND YOU'RE LAUGHING.
TG: chuckle up it only gets worse from here
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CG: BE HONEST WITH ME. DID FONDLING MY SHIRT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET EVEN DO ANYTHING?
TG: barely but yknow sometimes you just gotta deal the cards youre given
TG: ill just be astigmatic for a while its cool
CG: PFF… OKAY MAN.
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HOW DIFFERENT BATBOYS APOLOGIZE AFTER A ARGUMENT ── .✦
a/n: Lowkey I feel like I’m like slightest but problematic in arguments (not me exposing myself) but srs I got this request by a anon! (Here) So yeah tysmm, I won’t be writing the argument because lowkey, I can’t do angst at this time 💔😞
(Tags: how different batboys apologize after a argument)
BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
The "I'm Sorry, But…" Apology: Bruce’s apology might be a little stiff at first. He’s not great with words when it comes to his emotions, but he does know how to make up for things. His apology might start with something like, "I know I’m… difficult, but I didn’t mean to hurt you." The real comedy comes in when he tries to "fix" the situation by throwing money at it—like suggesting an extravagant dinner or buying you a new wardrobe because, "I know it will make you feel better."
Trying Too Hard to Be ‘Normal’: He might try to act like he’s “not Bruce Wayne” for a second, attempting to be goofy to show you he’s truly sorry. Picture Bruce awkwardly trying to make a joke: "I’m sorry I made you feel like I was ignoring you. How about we go out… without my bodyguards this time? You know, like a normal date?"
The Silent Apology: More often than not, Bruce will show you he’s sorry with actions, like preparing your favorite meal or doing something thoughtful (such as leaving you a handwritten note or taking care of something you've been stressing about). But if you press him for words, he might simply mutter, “I’m not good at this… but I am sorry,” and leave it at that.
DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
The Full-On “I’m Sorry, Please Forgive Me” Routine: Dick is extremely sorry whenever he’s messed up, and he knows how to make it entertaining. He’ll show up with flowers, chocolates, or maybe even your favorite ice cream. And then, with a totally sincere but dramatic flair, he’ll say something like, “Listen, I know I was an idiot, and I have no excuse except that I’m clearly emotionally stupid when I’m upset. So please, for the love of all things holy, let me make it up to you.”
Humorous Apologies: Dick might also make you laugh with his over-the-top apologies. Maybe he tries to outdo himself by setting up an elaborate “romantic” date, only for it to completely go awry (think spaghetti noodles flying everywhere or a very unromantic “romantic” location). He’ll laugh it off, saying, “Okay, so maybe that’s not exactly how I imagined it… but you have to admit, it’s unforgettable.”
The Super Dramatic ‘I’m Sorry’ Speech: After an argument, Dick is not shy about admitting when he’s wrong. He’ll deliver a heartfelt, exaggerated apology, something like, "I was a fool, and I see now that I was wrong. You are perfect, and I am definitely not. How do you put up with me?" Then, he might give you puppy-dog eyes, as if expecting you to immediately forgive him.
JASON TODD ── .✦
The “I Know I Messed Up, But… Here’s a Gift” Approach: Jason is quick to apologize, but it’s not usually with a heartfelt speech. Instead, he’ll show up with a gift—maybe something small but thoughtful, like your favorite snack or a new book he knows you’ve been eyeing. He’ll casually hand it to you and say, “Alright, alright, I messed up. But you know I’m not great at this, so here’s my attempt at being a decent human being.”
Comedic Self-Deprecation: Jason, knowing he’s not always the best communicator, might start with a little self-deprecating humor. "Look, I’m sorry, okay? You’re right, I am a jerk sometimes. But hey, at least I didn’t set anything on fire this time, right?" He’ll try to make you laugh with his inability to fully express himself, but you know he means it.
The “I’m Sorry, Now Let’s Get Back to Normal” Routine: Jason might awkwardly try to move past the argument, brushing it off with a gruff, "Look, I’m sorry for being a pain. Can we just… go back to how things were?" It's not the most eloquent apology, but it’s Jason, and it’s his way of saying he wants to make things right without diving too deep into feelings.
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
The "I Overthought This" Apology: Tim is a perfectionist, so when he messes up, he’ll overthink how to apologize. He’ll probably try to do something really thoughtful, like writing you a letter or planning a whole day dedicated to making it up to you. But the real comedy comes when he gets so wrapped up in planning that he’s awkward about it. "I, uh, made you a list of everything I could do to make it up to you, starting with… well, taking you out for dinner. You like sushi, right? But if you prefer something else, I can also—"
The "What Do You Need?" Routine: Tim might also take a very logical approach. He’ll ask, "What would you like me to do to fix this?" but in a way that makes it seem like he’s creating a spreadsheet of ways to apologize. "I’ve compiled some options for you to choose from. Option one: Dinner. Option two: A walk in the park. Option three: Let me do your laundry for the next week…”
The 'Nervous, Over-Apologetic' Tim: Tim is likely to be the one who apologizes over and over again. He’ll say “I’m sorry” about a dozen times in a single conversation, with increasing levels of anxiety. "I really didn’t mean it that way. I’m so sorry. Are we okay? You don’t seem mad, but if you are, I understand, and I’m really, really sorry."
DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦
The Reluctant Apology: Damian isn’t one to apologize easily, and when he does, it’s more formal. He might say something like, “I apologize for my behavior. It was uncalled for.” And then he’ll awkwardly pause, before adding, "I... didn’t mean to upset you." The comedic part comes when he clearly doesn’t understand how he’s hurt you. He might ask, “Is there anything I can do to make it right? Or… was this just another one of your moods?”
The Unintentional "Nice Guy" Apology: Damian will give you something as an apology—perhaps a bouquet of flowers or something that he “found interesting,” but he’ll likely be very stiff about it, saying something like, “This is for you. I thought you would appreciate it. It’s… an apology gift.” He’ll be surprised when you react positively, since he’s convinced that you’ll just think it’s lame
A Small Gesture of Remorse: As an apology, Damian might ask you to join him for a quiet walk or for tea, giving you a rare moment of sincerity. He might even throw in a joke (but it’ll be one of those very dry ones), saying, “The tea will be of the highest quality, so I suppose that should count for something."
#jason todd#dc#batboys#jason todd x reader#jason todd headcanon#batboys x reader#red hood x reader#red hood headcanon#red hood#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson headcanon#dick grayson#nightwing x reader#nightwing headcanon#nightwing#dollish#damian al ghul x reader#damian al ghul#damian wayne#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne headcanon#damian al ghul headcanon#tim drake#tim drake x reader#tim drake headcanon#red robin headcanon#red robin x reader#red robin#bruce wayne#bruce wayne headcanon
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Virgin Bakugo x reader, suggestive
Imagine Katsuki who’s a total and complete virgin. His brash and aggressive exterior fooled others into deeming him a playboy. Handsome, successful and proud, what else would he need to perfectly abide the stereotype. Except, ever since he started UA, ever since he dreamed about becoming a pro-hero, ever since he laid his eyes on All Might, Bakugo had nothing else in mind except hard work. He bent his neck over homework, he cracked his knuckles before training and he broke his bones during missions, everything for the sake of greatness. Love didn’t exactly fit into his schedule.
It started when he was a kid. Other boys kept weird magazines under their beds and looked at girls wishing they got a lock of silky hair to keep. Katsuki didn’t understand. Girls in his class at school were weird and annoying. They always had to move in a group, went together into toilet stalls and whispered as if they couldn’t talk like normal people - loud and straightforward. What did his friends see in them?
Later, in middle school Katsuki finally discovered a few throughgoing differences between him and a set of new girls in class. His friends’ magazines turned into online videos that Katsuki despised. They felt unnatural and shameful. So he cut the topic short, deeming the girls in class boring and stupid. And honestly, that’s how he felt about them.
When a particular shortie with deep black hair, cut a few inches above her chin, stopped him in the middle of the track field, Katsuki sighed. What now? The girl confessed her crush, digging a small hole in the dirt with the heel of her shoe, and Katsuki felt almost nothing, maybe slightly uncomfortable with a tiny pinch of pity. She teared up but mumbled a sorry, to which he responded with a grunt and a ‘better not talk to me again, this is awkward’. Until the end of middle-school, no other girl built up the guts to confess to him.
UA made Katsuki feel like home. He was a cog, awfully clattering one, nonetheless a well working. When he moved into the dorms he was closer to girls than ever before, and once again it changed nothing. The blonde felt satisfied with himself, able to satisfy himself, with no need for another person turning his perfectly working plan upside down. He listened to his friends stories about kisses and, later, first times without much regret. When he gets to the top women will throw themselves to his feet, like Hawks or Endeavour. No need to stress about it, it’s not like he likes back any of the girls that lay eyes on him when he flexes and bends during workout.
This was the biggest lie Katsuki made himself believe. Time flew by and suddenly his friends were no longer making fun of each others’ stories about awkward first kisses or boob touching. They were no longer excited about relationships, they no longer made a big fuss out of every glance that lasted a second too long. It became events of the every day for them, and Katsuki felt left out.
When asked he turned a blind eye, he built a thick wall around his love life that no one was allowed to cross. Friends and family accepted the distance, deeming it yet another Katsuki thing. Given how handsome and successful he is, the man had to have a girlfriend or two, or three. They were simply kept a secret, nothing new for a pro-hero.
And so it went. Fear crept up Katsuki’s bones every time he imagined a botched relationship, an awkward one-night-stand, an adult-virgin first kiss. Girls were no longer girls, they were women, all grown up and knowing what they want. All expecting experience or mastery even from someone like him. All making him freeze, his body betraying, retreating in a defeated manner masked as brashness. ‘Dream on’ he used to say when an intern or a model from a small company approached during hero-themed parties.
Showing someone how utterly inexperienced Katsuki was, letting someone open up this new and fragile part of himself started to merge with the feeling of defeat. Quickly, the blonde decided that if anyone ever learned about his weakness, it would be the end of him. He saw, with the eye of his imagination, the headlines honking about Virgin Dynamite! Is it possible for the top handsome ranking pro-hero to be a virgin? Who stole Dynamite’s first kiss? And so on.
Out of options, Katsuki decided to let it go, unsure what to do, fed up with trying to find a solution.
That was until he found himself, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder, on this painfully tiny couch, with you. There was a party, a fancy tuxedo one. There were people and drinks and perfectly glossed lips. There was music and vodka on rocks. And then suddenly there was none, only you and him, in a room forgotten by the ever-moving crowd.
Did the party end? Were there limousines lined up in front of the gold-dripping hotel, waiting patiently for their pro-heroes? Was there a villain attack and everyone went to the rescue? Was there a natural disaster happening? Where did these damn people go when Katsuki needed them? Where could he vanish when you were so close and so warm?
The blonde wanted to get up and walk away, spitting some bullshit in your face but his body froze. There it was, his secrets in danger. Despite not having much romantic experience himself, Katsuki was not stupid, he knew when lust filled his veins, he knew when someone wanted him. Right now you both felt the same way and while in fear of losing his pride, Katsuki couldn’t move away.
He couldn’t budge when you laid your palm on his thigh, he kept still as stone when you turned to face him fully, he stopped breathing when you moved close enough to let him feel your breath on his cheek. All the while he dug his fingernails into your knee.
Was it the uneven breathing that gave him away? Was it his hand that felt so lost on your skin? Or maybe it were his eyes that fought a battle between looking away and straight into your bust. The blonde wasn’t sure but when you glanced at him, with this frisky look in your eyes, he knew he was doomed. Katsuki nearly started waiting for a laugh when you tugged at his tie letting him fall over and cage you on the couch that was still painfully tiny.
“First time?” You breathed into the skin of his neck, climbing higher, pawing at his back and chest for support. Before he could answer your lips were on his in a hasteful and eager kiss. It was messy and all over your lips and cheeks and necks, all over the place. It was over in a blink of an eye.
Is this how a first kiss feels like? His friends told him stories about long, sweet and innocent pecks. This was nothing like the blackening memories at the back of his head. This felt like him, felt like his first kiss. Angry, bursting and forceful. Katsuki loved it.
“So it is.” Your voice, so close to his ear, tore him out of his head. You were still awaiting a response, one that would make him crumble, one that would destroy this perfectly unbalanced moment of lustful chaos.
Later Katsuki will wonder whether experience meant knowing what to say and do in the right moment, because you certainly knew how to do just that.
Gripping the collar of his shirt you tore the highest button, letting it fall down between your breasts for the blonde to find later. It were hands and knees everywhere for Katsuki, hotness and short breaths.
“You know what.” You asked, making him hum deeply into your skin. “If this is your first time then I cannot wait to see what you’ve got. After all an animal is the most aggressive, the most carnal when it’s starving.”
The little giggle that followed your smart remark made Katsuki grin widely. Fuck cliche stories about awkward frist times, fuck shy kissess and fuck confessions spoken with trembling lips. Katsuki will have to live with the fact that someone, that you, took away his virginity and you knew damn well about it. He will have to get over the loss of his mysteriousness (if you two are to date officially). Katsuki will gladly accept that. How could he not when once again he came out of a battle victoriously.Maybe it was his first time but it was his first time, his rules, his game and his girl.
#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha bakugou#bakugou#katsuki bakugou#mha#bakugo#bakugou katsuki#bakugo x reader
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A multi-headcanon request please. How the boys react when they discover their s/o has been hiding a wound from them because she had it under control and didn't want to give them something else to worry about
Hi! Thanks so much for the request and all the support! Have written a little fic for each of the guys, starring... - Xavier, Deepspace Hunter extraordinaire ✨ - Linkon's worst best baking partner, Zayne 🍪 - Drama queen Rafayel 👑 - King of self-care, Sylus 💅
Putting On A Brave Face
L&DS Boys x Reader
Summary: Sometimes, a certain hunter likes to say things are fine when they definitely aren't...
Genre: A lil bit of angst, mostly fluff + comfort!
Warnings/Additional tags: female reader, established relationship, swearing, canon pet names, some injury details/blood mentioned, teeeeency bit of suggestion (I'm looking at YOU, Sylus...)
| Word count: 4k (1k each!) | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
Xavier ⭐
This is bad. Not ‘end of everything as we know it’ bad, but definitely ‘an obscene amount of paperwork’ bad.
You clutch one of your pistols to your chest— deep breath— and you listen carefully, your head leant back against the rock you’re using as cover. Your mind latches on to every sound: each growl, each rumble of earth that marks the movements of the Wanderers that have trapped you here.
You’ve fought worse odds, but then again, you don’t usually have to do it with a broken leg.
Or maybe just sprained? You shift a little, trying to move, and the pain that sears through you settles the debate in an instant. Your teeth sink into the back of your hand to keep you from crying out.
You hope Xavier’s ok. You sent him your co-ordinates minutes ago, and the lack of response has worry gnawing away at the deepest parts of you. You check your hunter’s watch.
Still nothing.
Another deep breath, and you readjust your position as much as you can. Balancing on your good leg, you manage to peer over the top of the rock to get a visual of your surroundings.
There’s four, no— five Wanderers. Stupid no-hunt zone; you’re never not outnumbered.
You can see your second pistol, abandoned in the middle of the clearing where you’d dropped it. There’s flickers of movement, too: further in the woods. More Wanderers. Shit.
You duck behind the rock you’re starting to think might be your new home. Then your watch flickers, broadcasting a map of the area, and there’s the co-ordinates of another hunter, closing in fast.
Something flashes in the clearing, lighting the dark of the forest like a stutter of lightning. Then again. Then again. There’s a blood-curdling roar, and it ends— abrupt— with another flash.
Everything goes silent, save for a familiar voice calling your name.
“Xavier!” you call back.
You peek over the rock to see your partner jogging towards you, dead Wanderers littered behind him. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft as always, but his sword is still dripping blood.
“I’m ok.” You clamber up, using the rock as a seat when the small effort almost breaks you. “You?”
Xavier draws close— his gloved hands on your face, cupping your cheeks. His thumb grazes over a shallow scrape on your brow. “Yeah,” he answers.
“Did you find that weird Wanderer?”
He shakes his head: no. Steps back to check his watch. “It’s probably moved on to a different zone by now.”
“Then we should look for it,” you say, standing up. All of your weight is on one leg.
“Ah,” Xavier ponders, rubbing his neck, “really? I thought we should maybe head back.”
“No need.” And what’s the plan here, exactly? You can’t walk. You definitely can’t fight. Maybe you can wait here while he— no. He’s never going to leave you. “I told you I’m ok.”
“But you’re not.”
“I am,” you assert. You’re determined to convince him and your own, useless body. It’s just a sprain. It is just a sprain. You take a step forwards and stumble, your bad leg crumpling beneath you.
Xavier catches you, strong and solid, and he's holding you like you’re something delicate. He sets you down on the rock again. The pain is making your vision swim.
“You’re hurt,” he reasons gently, even though the truth of it is a knife that’s twisting in your heart. He seems to sense your reluctance: “There’s no shame in admitting that. It happens. Let’s go back.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m slowing you down, Xavier!” you gush. Your heart is split open and it has to bleed somewhere. “You have no idea what it’s like… being your partner.”
He’s looking at you with so much guilt and gods, you wish that somewhere was anywhere but his hands. “What do you mean?” he asks on a shaky breath.
“I love working with you.” Soften the blow. “I love being with you, but you don’t need me. You’re this incredible hunter. This figure of legend, of everyone’s stories. You can do so much on your own and I just don’t know how to keep up. I mean, look at me— I can’t.”
You feel sick. Empty. “You shouldn’t have to hang back for me,” you finish limply. “You’re you, Xavier. You can fight like a hundred Wanderers and still come out unscathed.”
The blue of Xavier’s eyes has grown understandably more turbulent, though it settles a little. He seems to relax. “Yeah… about that,” he mumbles hesitantly.
He turns around and your mouth drops. A savage cut drapes like a crimson sash down his back, splitting the white of his uniform. It’s not deep enough to be fatal, but it’s not good, either.
“Wha— Xavier!” you exclaim, trying to surge forwards, but your pain keeps you rooted. “You said you were ok!”
“So did you,” he frowns, bewildered. “Can we get out of—”
“Yeah, yeah.” You let him take your arm and help you to your feet.
He leads you through the clearing and into the forest, supporting your weight as you hop along beside him. There’s a murmur about how he should carry you, but you’re quick to reassure him he’s doing enough. You’re both hurting; you both just need to survive the short walk out of the no-hunt zone, where a med team can take over.
“You don’t slow me down, you know,” Xavier says quietly, after a minute of silence. “You’re the reason I can keep going.”
You squeeze his arm affectionately, mustering a smile even though you’re nauseous with pain and the idea that he’s been dwelling on your speech this whole time. “Well,” you chuckle through gritted teeth, “you’re gonna have to learn how to get by without me.”
“Huh?” He gives you a curious look.
You glance down at your leg. “Zayne’s gonna kill me...”
Zayne ❄
“I’m a doctor.”
You stop what you’re doing to fix Zayne with a questioning stare. “Ok…?”
“I’ve published dozens of research papers. Pioneered new surgical techniques. My work on Evol-based regenerative properties still has lasting implications for my field, and I’ve the accolades to show for it. The Starcatcher Award. The Linde Award, too— I was the youngest ever recipient.”
None of this is news to you, and you can’t help chuckling at this change in your usually-humble physician. You humour him: “The youngest ever recipient, huh?” There’s a crack as you split an egg on the side of the bowl in front of you. “That’s very impressive.”
“Is it?”
Zayne stands from his seat at your kitchen table: you hear the chair draw back. You feel his presence arrive behind you as you continue to stir your soon-to-be cookie dough. “Yeah,” you lilt with a smile.
“Really?” he pushes again, and his arms wrap around you as he bends to speak into your ear. “Because someone seems to think I can’t even recognise a—” he nips at it— “sprained ankle.”
His breath is warm on your neck and you let out a giggle. “Keep speaking to me like that and these cookies are never making it into the oven. Or your stomach.”
The man relents. He releases you, not returning to his seat but opting to lean against the kitchen counter instead. You glance up at him; he stares back, waiting for an actual answer.
“My ankle is fine, Zayne.”
There’s a sigh as he crosses his arms.
“It is,” you insist, even though you did sprain your ankle at work today, it does hurt like hell, and you do just want to sit down. You reach for the flour you’d measured out previously, tipping it into the larger bowl. “If it wasn’t, would I really be here— making you cookies?”
“Yes,” he says plainly.
“You’re delusional.”
“Ok.”
Well, that was a little too easy. Don’t overthink it, and definitely don’t read into the fact that he’s standing there oh-so-smugly, like he knows something you don’t. You finish stirring the flour into the mixture, then add the last of the ingredients. Just a pinch of salt, and then…
Where did you put the chocolate chips? You glance about yourself but they’re nowhere in sight. “Hey, Zayne? Have you seen the—”
“This cupboard,” he indicates with an upwards nod of his head. His eyes are relentless. “Top shelf.”
Ah. That’s ok. You’ve totally got this. You move beneath the cupboard, opening it and gazing up into the contents. You can see the pack of chocolate chips. You can get up there somehow, right?
“Would you like me to—” Zayne starts, but you cut him off:
“Nope.” You put your hands on your hips. “Please— if I can climb the back of an alive, awake, and very angry deluge wyrmlord to put a sword through its skull, I think I can make it onto the kitchen counter in one piece. Lemme just…”
Your knee lifts. You make it about a centimetre from the floor before Zayne’s hands are on your waist, grounding you. “Stop,” he instructs, and it's not a tone that allows for any rebuttal. Satisfied by your silence, he brings the chocolate chips down to you.
“Thanks,” you say quietly as they’re placed on the counter.
“You’re welcome."
Sheepishly, you spill a generous amount of chocolate chips into the cookie mixture. Your throat hurts in the way that keeps you from saying anything more. You already feel like an idiot, and your eyes are watering, threatening to make you look like even more of one.
Zayne’s hand appears in front of you, hovering over the bowl. You laugh in understanding: giving the half-empty bag another shake so chocolate chips fall into his palm.
“You… don’t have to explain yourself,” he says as he lifts them to his mouth. His next words are muffled: “But you can tell me anything, my love. I never want you to feel as though you can’t.”
You chuckle again; you can’t help yourself. Look at him: your oh-so-serious doctor shovelling chocolate into his mouth. He raises an eyebrow at you, his lips still on his palm.
“I know I can tell you anything,” you smile, the ache in your throat receding, however much the rest of you hurts. “I did sprain my ankle. It’s not that I wanted to hide it from you, it’s just—” you stop stirring the mixture— “it’s just that your whole life is taking care of people at the hospital. You should get a break from it. You should get to be Zayne, here… at home. Just Zayne, not Doctor Zayne.”
Zayne’s hazel eyes have taken on a hue of regret. He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, buying himself a few seconds as he contemplates. “Are you a doctor?” he asks after a moment.
“No?”
“And yet, here you are, taking care of me.” He reaches for the abandoned packet of chocolate chips. “Tell me, does it feel like work to you?”
“Yeah,” you tease, drawing the packet away from his stretching fingers in explanation; you’re both grinning.
“Well, it never feels like work to me. Just Zayne likes taking care of you. And right now? He wants to bundle you up on the sofa and finish these cookies for you.”
You purse your lips: that’s some dubious wording. “Zayne, hell will freeze over before I leave you and this cookie dough unsupervised.”
He shushes you, pulling on the cord of your apron until the bow at your back comes loose. Before you can protest, he’s wearing the apron himself.
“Zayne, I’m not kidding. I know what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna get rid of me, and then you’ll—”
“Shh,” he coos again, whisking you carefully off your feet, because it’s time for a taste of your own medicine. “You’re delusional.”
Rafayel 🔥
“Mmhmm. Mmhmm.”
“Raf, who are you—”
He holds out a finger to shush you. “Mmhmm.”
You cross your arms impatiently. Who is he even talking to, anyway? His lilac eyes are locked on you as he continues humming away, apparently very invested in whatever the person on the phone is saying; you’ve never seen him go this long without talking.
He narrows his eyes at you. You narrow your eyes right back.
All around you, guests of the exhibition are milling about, all dressed to the nines and minding their business, however much they want the attention of the man in front of you. A few of them linger as they pass him, like they want to say something, like they’re going to say something…
But they don’t.
It’s a wonder that Rafayel stands out in the crowd as much as he does. You’d seamlessly located him, back from your third trip to the bathroom to check on the bandages you’ve managed to conceal beneath this dress. He’s still holding your purse for you, his phone in his other hand, except—
That’s your phone. That’s your phone! “Rafayel!”
He shushes you again. “I understand,” he says solemnly, notably not to you, “thanks for letting me know.” The call is ended. He takes a deep, collected breath, then looks at you. “I knew it!”
“Knew what? Who was that?”
“Zayne.”
“You called Zayne?”
“Like I had a choice!” Rafayel retaliates. It is true; he’s spent the entire evening trying to get you to admit something was wrong, and you had no intention of giving him that pleasure. “You’re supposed to be in the hospital! What kind of idiot breaks out of the hospital?”
The lack of irony in the question almost breaks you. “Umm… you?! Like every other week?!”
He shrugs. “That’s different.”
“Rafayel, I swear, I’m gonna— ah!” you gasp in pain. You’d stepped forwards too quickly— maybe to strangle him, but that’s neither here nor there— and the wound on your side is clearly on his side. It stings like hell: punishing you, and you know the pain is self-inflicted.
Rafayel frowns in concern, maybe even guilt, and that’s why you didn’t tell him. “C’mon, we should go,” he insists gravely.
“It’s fine, Raf. It doesn’t even—”
“Stop lying! You said you wouldn’t hide stuff like this from me. You promised, remember?”
You’re losing track of all the promises you’ve made to the Lemurian, but you do remember that one. Guilt has its teeth in you, too. “I know,” you grumble, “I’m sorry, ok? I just knew—”
“What?”
“That you’d act like this! You’ve been working on this exhibition for months, Raf. Tonight is supposed to be about you. Not me— you. And I want it to stay that way. Everyone’s here to celebrate you and your work, and that’s how it should be. That’s what I want. To support you. To be here for you.”
Your voice has gone timid. You finish meekly: “Can’t you let me do this for you? Please?”
Rafayel’s eyes are wide and still the prettiest things you’ve ever seen, even in a room full of masterpieces and jewels you could never afford. They shine with uncertainty, but soften as he smiles, full of fondness and affection. “That’s sweet. But also? Really dumb.”
“Raf—”
“The only— and I mean only— reason I’m here tonight is because you are. I don’t care about what anyone thinks about me or my paintings. Just you. And you can see this?” He gestures around the gallery. “Anytime. My life’s your private exhibition, cutie. Exclusive access, 24/7, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
He steps closer to you: close enough that he can see the tear that’s made it halfway down your cheek. He wipes it away with a chuckle. “Plus,” he adds, “I know you know I’m amazing. You don’t need these old sourpusses to tell you that, do you?”
You laugh tentatively. “No, I don’t.”
Your injury protests as you use the lapels on Rafayel’s blazer to pull him closer; you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He’s still grinning as he draws away, a light blush on his cheeks, but the sweetness of the moment vanishes as his gaze drifts lower.
“My eyes are up here, Rafayel.”
“Yeah…” he concedes mindlessly, but then he points: “you know you’re like, bleeding, right?”
You glance downwards to where the red of your dress is turning darker. There’s just a small splotch, but it’s growing. Shit. You must have reopened the wound.
“Thomas?” you hear Rafayel call, and then he’s stuffing a silk handkerchief into your hands— helping you apply pressure. “We have to get out of here,” he explains as a figure joins you.
His agent folds his arms; this is not dissimilar to stunts you and Rafayel have pulled before. “Fake blood, guys? Really?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can’t leave, Rafayel. I can just see the headlines tomorrow…”
“Dashing artist selflessly flees exhibition to save devoted bodyguard,” Rafayel concurs with a nod.
Thomas groans. “That’s not what they’re going to—”
“Help me out with this, cutie?”
“Yes, sir,” you mock salute.
A moment later, Rafayel has scooped you up into his arms. Your hero; he gives you a conspiratorial wink before glancing about frantically. “Quickly!” he cries out. “Everyone out of the way, please!”
“For the love of—” Thomas starts.
“Oh, gods!” you shout in agony. “It hurts. It hurts!”
Heads turn. Cameras flash.
Tomorrow morning, half of Linkon will be talking about one of their favourite celebrities and his long-envied bodyguard. A news article will pop-up on her doctor’s phone, and he’ll see the pictures and sigh.
Sylus 🩸
“It’s not too late to back down, sweetie,” Sylus sneers.
“Aw, but you got all dressed up for the occasion.”
Your eyes rake over the outline of the man’s abs, courtesy of the tank top he’s wearing, and it does take the sting out of the fact that he’ll be trying to hit you. He holds his wrapped hands before him, ready to defend, ready to attack. He’ll probably attack, right?
“Last chance,” he growls.
“Is it, though?” This is the third ‘last chance’ you’ve been given in the five minutes you’ve been teetering on combat. You beckon him with a curl of your fingers. “Come on, Sylus. This is getting old.”
He scoffs: “How do you think I feel?”
“Like you’re about to get your ass kicked?”
“Alright, enough.” His hands drop and it feels like you’re back at the academy, about to be scolded for not taking something seriously. Sylus turns his back on you. Moves to the edge of the boxing ring so he can retrieve a stool from outside of it and sit down in a huff. He starts peeling the wraps from his knuckles, and— wait, is he mad? Like, actually mad?
“What’s wrong, Sy?”
He laughs as though you’re missing something dreadfully obvious. Maybe irony.
“Sylus?”
“You really are heartless, sweetie. You know that?”
The words steal your breath away, if only for a moment. Yours is a relationship of pulled punches, but he won’t meet your gaze and that one was real, wasn’t it? He wanted it to sting. “Why—”
“I could have hurt you,” he snaps, his dishevelled, snowy hair falling to cover his eyes. His discarded wraps slide from his hands, pooling by his feet like blood. “You were going to let me hurt you.”
He looks at you, finally, but it’s not in the way you want. His gaze is cast low, trailing over your body and making you feel every bruise, every closed cut that wants to reopen and every ache, rooted almost to bone. You’d done your best to hide it, even going so far as to press make-up hastily over your purpled skin.
That Wanderer really did a number on you yesterday.
“You should have told me,” Sylus says, since you’ve made it onto the same page. “Honestly, kitten. Why would you—”
“Because Luke and Kieran told me, ok?”
Oh, they’re going to kill you. It was supposed to be a secret, and here you are, spilling like a fresh wound because you can’t stand the thought of Sylus being upset with you. You step closer, scrambling to dissect what you’ve done right in front of his eyes— holding it out to him: this is why. This is why. “They said you had a rough week. Some deals of yours had fallen through or something. And I’ve been too busy. I haven’t called, I haven’t even texted, and…”
You need him to understand, but the truth is a mess in your hands and how do you even start to explain it to him?
“You wanted to do something for me,” he finishes for you, and you don’t have to explain a thing.
“Yeah…” you confirm, bittersweet and still sad. “You do so much for me, Sylus. I just wanted to do what you wanted, for a change.”
Maybe it’s a round of boxing. Maybe it’s a dozen illicit dealings where he needs you to play enforcer— it doesn’t matter. As long as he’s happy.
“Come here,” he orders gently.
You close the rest of the rift between you, letting him reach for you and pull you closer. His knees have spread so you can slot against him, and his arms circle around you— trapping you— as he nuzzles into the warmth of your stomach.
“I’m sorry I called you heartless,” he speaks into you, his voice muffled as he gives you a chaste kiss. He then cranes his head upwards, resting his chin against you so he can profess more clearly: “I do worry about you, kitten.”
“I know—” your hands move to his head— “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”
“Mmm,” he hums in accordance, maybe even forgiveness, and his eyes close as your fingers card through the soft of his hair. “I lied too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he confesses on a contented sigh. “I didn’t want to spend today… boxing.”
“What do you want to do today, Sy?”
His eyes flicker open and his hands find your hips. “What I really want…” he contemplates, as his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt to rub circles on your skin, “is to take care of you.”
There are lifetimes of need in his gaze.
“Won’t you let me take care of you, sweetie?”
…
“If he finds the terms so disagreeable, then he’s more than welcome to take his business elsewhere. Although—” Sylus’s voice is cold— “he might find his other options less… amenable than when he saw them last. Less communicative, too. You can tell him I said so.”
He ends the phone call. Smiles. “Sorry about that, sweetie.”
“Are the boys ok?”
The smile widens, even though you can’t see it. “They’re fine.”
Phone set aside, Sylus carries on with the important business Kieran’s call had distracted him from. You’re half asleep, your head in his lap as he brushes your hair: rose-scented and soft from the bath he’d drawn for you, hours ago. Every bandage is fresh and clean. Every ache has been dulled with a lazy massage and more chaste kisses, for good measure.
“Perfect day,” you mumble blissfully.
“Perfect day,” Sylus agrees.
#🖋rach is actually writing#xavier x reader#zayne x reader#rafayel x reader#sylus x reader#love and deepspace#lads x reader#lads x mc#shen xinghui#li shen#qi yu#qin che#lads#lnds#l&ds
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somebody to you
alexia putellas x reader
word count: 9.6k
You’re not a footballer and knowing that your girlfriend is one of the best footballers in the world… you definitely think Alexia deserves better than you. Maybe someone like her ex—World Cup winner, Jenni Hermoso.
; angst, fluff
When you first met your girlfriend, Alexia, you had no idea who she was.
Football was the last thing you could ever be interested in. How were you supposed to know that the blonde in front of you was one of the best footballers in the world?
Whenever you recall back to that moment, you could still remember every single detail—her hair up in a messy ponytail, a pair of sunglasses resting on top of her head, and her faded grey sweatshirt paired with light blue jorts. (Who the hell wore jorts?) Not to mention the permanent scowl etched on her face. She made smiling seem like a chore.
When it was her turn to order and all she did was point to the menu to show you what she wanted, you frowned because, a) that was so rude—how hard was it to say that she wanted a hot chocolate? but b) she looked so damn hot and you were a sucker for pretty, bratty girls.
She was perfect.
When you decided to shoot your shot and wrote your number on her cup (and a note that went: you should smile more often, I haven’t seen it, but I’d bet that it’s the most beautiful smile in the world x), you didn’t think she’d do anything about it.
Imagine your surprise when you received a text from an unknown number later that night.
hola
I just wanted to tell you to do better with your pick-up line
That was a few months ago and now you could confidently say that Alexia’s smile was indeed the most beautiful smile in the world.
It was tough to break down her walls at first, Alexia always exuded a nonchalant vibe, only smiled when she had to, and didn't look like she enjoyed whatever it was you two were doing.
You were never a quitter though. So you kept on texting her, asking if she wanted to go for another date.
She kept on saying yes and that was when you knew that underneath her indifferent mood, she enjoyed your little dates.
Her tough exterior was merely a front and your suspicions were confirmed when one night, she started laughing so hard mid-sentence, causing you to stop whatever it was you were doing because wow, you could listen to her laughter on repeat for the rest of your life.
“Y/N,” she grabbed your face in her hands, gently rubbing your cheeks, her laughter fading into a gentle, warm smile on her face. “You’ve been so patient with my grumpiness. That is a talent.”
“Ale, I really like you,” you chuckled. “That includes your grumpiness.”
“I’m not always like this,” she confessed. You only looked at her in confusion before she told you everything. Who she was, what Alexia Putellas meant to the world, and most importantly, her ACL—the injury that caused her to lose sight of the world for a bit.
“I was just so angry with the world, even now that I’ve healed, I still hated that it happened to me because I missed out for months, I missed out on so many moments. So the bitterness likes to reappear every now and then… That, and I don’t really trust people so easily; people usually want something from me. I didn’t know what you wanted from me.”
“Ale… I had no idea who you were,” you gave her a sheepish smile. “Which might be stupid of me, now that I think about it. I mean, I should know you, shouldn’t I? You’ve won that balloon football award or whatever and it’s ridiculous that I have no idea who—”
You were cut off by a pair of lips crashing into your own. Alexia silencing all your worries with the softest kiss, her strawberry chapstick was all you could taste. She pulled away to rest her forehead against yours, eyes staring at you intently, your favourite smile on display. “I don’t care that you don’t know who I am, Y/N. In fact, I love it. You treat me so normally. Eres mi favorita.”
You couldn’t help the grin on your face. “Am I? You wanna be my girlfriend then, Putellas?”
When all she did was flash you her signature smirk, her eyebrows raised, and an “ask me in a more romantic way, por favor” thrown your way—that was when you realized that you’d broken down her walls completely, and oh you were insufferable. Because the way she looked at you? The way her eyes lit up, her lips slowly curling into a stupidly perfect grin? People would go to war to have someone look at them like that.
You were so head over heels in love with Alexia.
—
Being Alexia’s girlfriend—or wag, as you learned of the term on the internet—was more than you could ever dream of.
You still worked part time at the café where you two met while juggling your studies to finish your master degree. On weekends, you would support Alexia on her games. Cheering her on, not caring about anything else except when Alexia had the ball on her feet.
You were happy in the bubble you and Alexia created.
That was until one Saturday night, you were seated at your usual seat at the stadium among friends and families of the players, when someone plopped down on the seat next to you.
You still weren’t that familiar with football, having only been to ten games in total. You knew the rules, you knew a couple of Alexia’s teammates after stalking them online (you two were still keeping your relationship a secret from everyone else), but that was mostly it.
So you didn’t know who the person next to you was until she offered a small smile, outstretching her hand for you to shake.
Jenni.
The name was a bit familiar, so was her face. You couldn’t quite place where you’ve seen her before though.
“Who do you know on the team?” her voice brought you out of your daydream, wracking your brain on why she looked familiar.
“Uhm,” you stuttered. Right. This was the friends and family section, you couldn’t sit here if you didn’t know anyone. “Alexia.”
Jenni was surprised, you could tell with the way her eyes widened for a split second, not expecting your answer. “Friend of Ale’s, huh?”
You didn’t like how she said your girlfriend’s name. With that hint of… fondness. You suddenly felt a possessive feeling growing in your chest and you just wanted to tell everyone that Alexia is yours.
Jenni stared at the field, her eyes fixating on Alexia. You could see an affectionate smile on her face and that was when it clicked. You’ve seen her on Alexia's Instagram before. Jenni used to be her teammate at Barcelona before she moved to Mexico.
You knew this because in the picture, Jenni was smiling at Alexia the same way. And even though your Spanish wasn’t spectacular, you remembered reading the paragraph Alexia wrote for Jenni and getting the hint at how close they were with how Alexia seemed to think so highly of Jenni.
“You’re her teammate, yeah?”
Jenni turned back to look at you, nodding. “I don’t play for Barça anymore, but we still play on the national team together.”
“Cool.”
Jenni gave a small laugh. “You don’t know much about football, do you?”
You grimaced, “Is it that obvious?”
“Don’t worry about it,” she patted your arm in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, but it made you feel even more stupid and out of place in this whole stadium, where everyone knew what they were getting into when they bought tickets to the game. “It’s just that—not trying to sound arrogant or anything—but usually people know who I am because I used to play for this team. So you not recognizing me straight away gave me the clue that you’re probably not a Culer.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Culer?”
“Fans of the club.”
“Ah.” You were definitely not a Barcelona fan. You were a fan of your girlfriend though, and if that meant you had to be a Culer or whatever it was, then you would be.
So when you laid down in Alexia’s bed that night, you mentioned to her that starting from today, you were a Culer. She burst out laughing and you can feel her grip you tighter, having your face completely smashed against her neck—not that you minded, you had always felt so content being pressed up against Alexia.
“Mi amor,” she cooed, looking down to face you, her hand finding its way to its favourite resting place on your cheek. “When did you learn that?”
You rolled your eyes playfully, starting to feel a bit insecure at this whole thing. “Well, we’ve been dating for three months now—next week it would be four—and I still don’t know shit about football, but, Ale… I’d be a Culer for you.”
Alexia giggled and pecked your lips, smiling your favourite smile of hers (the one that made her eyes sparkle and the small dimples on her cheek to come out).
“You’re perfect, did you know? I love you whether you’re a Culer or not.”
“Hm,” you pretended to be deep in thought. “Then what if I become a Real Madrid fan?”
Alexia gave you an unimpressed look. “Don’t push it.”
“I’m going to Madrid next week with a couple of my friends and maybe I could catch a game—”
And Alexia did what had become her favourite thing to do: interrupting your ramble with a kiss. You had a love-hate relationship with the gesture, because while you do love having her soft lips on yours, it was so annoying to be cut off mid-sentence.
You never complained though. You’d happily get interrupted if it meant having Alexia kiss you like you were the last person on earth.
That night, you buried your uneasiness as a result of your encounter with Jenni deep, deep inside.
(You didn’t know just how important Jenni was to Alexia.)
—
Jenni was in town for a couple of days, you’d later learn.
You would usually go to Alexia’s after you were done for the day, mostly spending the night at hers. That was why Alexia ended up giving you a spare key—so you would be able to come as you please.
It wasn’t unusual for you to have to use your spare key. What was unusual was the sight of Jenni sitting on your girlfriend’s couch, looking surprised at you barging into your girlfriend’s home.
“Hi…” you gave an awkward small wave at her, closing the door behind you as you slowly stepped inside the apartment.
“Oh! Y/N, right?” Jenni stood up to face you and you could tell that this was very much awkward for her as it was for you. “Nice to meet you again.”
You gave her your best smile, trying your hardest not to be rude as you scan the place for any sight of your favourite blonde. “Is… Alexia here?”
“I have no idea where she is honestly,” at that you couldn’t help the way your eyebrows rose to the top of your head. “I’m in Barcelona for a couple of days. I was supposed to meet her tomorrow morning for breakfast but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. So I figured I’d meet her tonight instead. I have an extra key so…”
You didn’t like what you were hearing at all, but you kept your cool. That was the jealousy inside of you, you knew this. Jenni’s a friend. You really should tone down your green-eyed monster.
“What are you doing here?” It was Jenni’s turn to ask you.
“I, too, have a spare key,” you intended to joke about the situation, but your tone felt off and Jenni can sense it too.
Jenni had a lot of questions, you could tell. It was easy to read the emotions on her face.
You had to remind yourself that she didn’t know you were dating Alexia. She didn’t know that you basically spent more nights here than at your own place. It was natural to be curious as to why there was a random girl showing up at your best friend’s house at 10 pm, with her own sets of keys nonetheless.
Wanting to get out of the awkward situation, you excused yourself, saying you’d meet Alexia some other time, bidding Jenni goodbye.
You texted Alexia a simple good night once you settled in your bed.
When Alexia responded back with a short text back, sweet dreams, mi amor, and not a phone call asking why you weren’t in her bed, you let that feeling of uneasiness return to the surface.
—
You didn’t get to overthink for too long because when you wake up, it was because you felt your bed dip and the familiar scent of your girlfriend engulfing you as she settled behind you.
“Bon dia,” Alexia whispered, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you to her. “I missed you last night.”
You turned around to burrow your face into her collarbones, letting out a content sigh. “Missed you too.”
“Jenni told me you visited my place but left immediately.”
At the mention of her name, you froze. What a way to ruin the moment. “Yeah,” was all you replied, which was weird to Alexia considering how talkative you were in the mornings.
“Why didn’t you wait for me, bebita? You always wait for me even when I’m not home.”
You shrugged, “Jenni was there already.”
Alexia went still for a moment, which you thought was odd.
You wanted so badly to keep quiet, but the
nagging feelings that you couldn’t shake grew stronger. “She has a spare key too. Do you just go around giving keys to your apartment to everyone? I thought I was special,” you chuckled, meaning it to be a joke, waiting for Alexia to respond with her usual snarky retort.
When Alexia didn’t say anything, you pulled back from her, looking up to stare at her face. She was looking anywhere but you.
“Ale? I’m only kidding. I know she’s your friend.”
Alexia cleared her throat, “You see…”
You sat up, something about her tone brought up that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach.
“Jenni’s my ex.”
Ah. That definitely burst the bubble you’d carefully created.
You gave a bitter laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “So your ex still has a key to your place,” you stated. You were about to swallow your sentence when you suddenly felt anger rising in your chest with how blindsided you were. “Did she spend the night?”
Alexia looked like a deer caught in the headlights. You felt sick.
“That’s a yes.”
“Amor…”
You shook of her touch and went to stand up. You looked at the blonde in your bed and you felt your heart crushed. You hated how Alexia looked like a kicked puppy, immediately scrambling to chase after you once she realized you were leaving the room.
“Y/N, it’s not what you think—”
“Your ex still has a key to your place and she stayed the night,” you were mostly repeating it to yourself, trying to wrap your head around the fact somehow.
“She slept on the couch!” Alexia interjected. “Nothing happened, amor, I swear.”
You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You didn’t want to fight with Alexia. Besides, deep down you knew that Alexia wasn’t the type of person to be unfaithful.
“Okay,” you relented, opening your fridge with the aim of making breakfast, trying to busy yourself with something that wasn’t looking at your girlfriend.
Alexia didn’t seem convinced that you’d drop the subject just like that. “There's nothing going on between Jenni and I. She's a good friend.”
You grabbed an empty bowl. “Okay.” You scooped some yogurt out of its jar and placed a spoonful in your bowl. Jenni’s a good friend. Just a friend.
“Mi vida… I know it’s… weird? To still be friends with an ex, but…”
You poured some granola on top of your yogurt. Who the hell stayed friends with their ex? Alexia. Sweet, lovely Alexia.
Looking down at your bowl and seeing a sad, miserable breakfast (just like how you were feeling), you pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a small headache coming through. You felt like crying but that seemed pathetic so you shoved the feeling away. Jenni was an ex, but she was a good friend. You had to live with that.
“I trust you, Ale,” you sighed. “If you say she’s a good friend, then I trust you.”
She went up behind you and rested her chin on your shoulder, her arms encircling your waist. “I love you,” she whispered into your shoulder, placing a kiss on the exposed skin. “I really do. Jenni and I broke up ages ago.”
They broke up ages ago. That was grand. You were fine. People stayed friends with their ex and nothing happened. Right?
When you didn’t say anything else, just continuing to stare at your breakfast, Alexia poked your side. “Hey,” she placed a peck on your back. “Please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad, love.” More like jealous. Or fucking devastated that your girlfriend’s ex was a sexy footballer just like herself. How could you ever compete with that?
“Y/N,” Alexia’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Babygirl.”
At that you couldn’t help the laughter that escaped your lips. You turned around to face her, her arms stayed trapping you against the counter. “Please don't call me that ever again.”
“Why?” Alexia smirked, her face inching closer to yours.
“I hate it, Ale, por favor,” you groaned.
Alexia grinned at you, pecking your lips “Hm. I love when you speak Spanish.”
And when Alexia kissed you, any thoughts of your girlfriend’s ex escaped your brain completely.
Alexia chose you. So what if she still hung out with her ex? Plenty of people do. Plus, you trust Alexia. You had nothing to worry about.
—
Apparently it wasn’t Alexia you had to worry about. It was yourself. You were your own worst enemy and all that.
You didn’t mean to let the thoughts run loose.
When Jenni left for Mexico, you were elated. No more running into your girlfriend’s ex and no more ex-girlfriend trying to steal your girlfriend’s time away from you.
You didn’t factor in the fact that Alexia and Jenni were national teammates. So when international break came and both Alexia and Jenni were called up to camp in Portugal…
You felt like you were going crazy.
You knew you were being dumb, but you couldn’t help it. You didn't think that Alexia would cheat on you—that possibility never crossed your mind.
You just couldn’t help but feel incomparible to Jenni.
That was how you went into a rabbit hole of watching every Alexia and Jenni videos on the internet.
It was a mistake, really. A stupid, terrible mistake, because you could see how well they fit together.
Their chemistry on and off the field were something else, you kinda felt stupid to think that Jenni was the one ruining your relationship when it could very well be that you were the one preventing Alexia from being with someone who truly gets her.
Because you were sure that Jenni understood Alexia in ways that you may never do. They had been through thick and thin together—Alexia’s injury, the issue with the Spanish Federation—they won countless of football championships together, for god's sake.
And how exactly were you supposed to compete with that? Alexia lived and breathed football, you wouldn’t step foot inside a football match if your girlfriend wasn't on the team.
You didn’t get this world of hers and you knew that you never would.
Unlike Jenni. This was her world already.
They'd be perfect together—they were perfect together.
You hated how you were able to let your thoughts spiral as you stared at another video of Jenni looking at Alexia like she was the only person in the room.
You knew Alexia loved you, you had no doubt about that, and you loved her too. But maybe Jenni could love her better.
Jenni was perfect for Alexia in ways that you weren’t. With that thought replaying in your head, you turned off your phone and kept it locked inside your drawer.
You were never one to be obsessed with your phone, having gone days without it and being absolutely fine. So that was what you did. Mostly because you didn't want to talk to Alexia.
You couldn’t handle it if Alexia came to the same realization as you—that you were nothing compared to Jenni and she could very much just get back together with her ex.
Just imagining it crushed your heart into bits so you tried your best to push it away as you went through your day.
—
Alexia decided to leave camp a day earlier than she was supposed to. She said she had a family emergency to attend to, which was true, considering you had yet to respond to any of her calls or texts. She must’ve sounded so desperate to return back to Barcelona, causing them to reluctantly let her go.
She got on the first plane available and went straight home. Usually you would stay over at hers when she was out of town, claiming that you always missed her when she wasn’t around and having her scent engulf you was the next best thing.
However, when Alexia entered her apartment and there were no signs of you, she dropped her bag and hurriedly got into her car to drive to yours. She thanked god that your place was only five minutes away.
Quickly putting her car into park, she tried to regulate her breathing and convinced herself that you were fine.
You were fine. You had to be. You were fine when Alexia left for the airport just a week ago.
With the thought that you maybe broke your phone or lost it, Alexia inserted the spare key you gave her and unlocked the door.
You weren’t in the living room. Or the kitchen. So that left one more place. Knocking softly on your bedroom door, she called out your name. When she didn’t get a reply, she let herself in.
No one was there, or in the bathroom. Sighing to herself, she made her way back to the living room and laid down on the couch.
Alexia was never the one to cry easily but she really wanted to. She had no idea where you were, or if you were safe. Never had she felt so helpless before.
This was maybe her fault for wanting to keep you two a secret.
Now she couldn’t contact any of your friends because she didn’t know them.
She took a deep breath and willed herself to focus on where you could be. The café you work at, perhaps? But it was a Sunday and you didn’t work on Sundays because Alexia didn’t have anything to do either and Sundays were your lounging-around-in-bed-until-lunch-time type of days.
Maybe you were at the library. You were going to have your exams next week. Alexia already had your schedule memorized. But it was nearing midnight and you never—
“Ale?” you couldn’t help the surprise in your tone. “Aren’t you supposed to still be at camp?”
Alexia jumped a foot in the air, mostly because she didn’t hear you come in and was scared shitless but also because oh my god, she could finally breathe now that you were okay.
Alexia immediately wrapped her arms around you, she felt like she never wanted to let you go. Ever. “And you’re supposed to reply to my calls, amor.”
Well.
“My phone’s broken.”
Alexia pulled back and looked at you, her face telling you that she didn’t quite believe you.
“My phone’s lost…?” you tried again, giving her a sheepish smile. You were starting to feel bad for ignoring her.
Alexia only sighed in response, dropping on the couch and pulling you to sit on her lap. “I’m just glad you’re okay, mi vida. I was really worried.”
You felt even guiltier now. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be.”
You were taken aback at the look of pure disbelief on Alexia’s face at your words. You really didn’t think she’d worry about you—with having to go to training everyday, hanging out with her national teammates, having Jenni around.
“That’s…” Alexia shook her head, trying to get her words out. “That’s ridiculous, amor. Why would I not be worried about you?”
You shrugged. “You’re busy, love. I’d understand.”
Alexia quickly shook her head, you were afraid she'd get whiplash with how frantic her movements were. “I am always busy during camp, sí, but never too busy enough for you? Did I do something to make you feel like I would not have time for you? I didn’t realize—”
Now it was your turn to silence her with a kiss, which was a rare occurrence—cool, calm Alexia never rambled.
You felt her sigh against your mouth, her whispers of a soft “te amo mucho” made you go completely limp in her arms.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassured her. “It’s just me, don’t worry about it.”
“I will always have time for you and I will always worry about you. Because I love you.”
You smiled at her, despite having the worst feeling in the pit of your stomach you still believe her whenever she said it to you. “I love you too, Ale. I’m sorry for worrying you.”
She was still looking at you with worry etched on her face. “Anything else on your pretty mind?”
You felt that if you voiced your thoughts out loud, you’d sound like a crazy, jealous girlfriend and you didn’t want that. So you simply said nothing and laid your head on her chest.
This was fine. You were in Alexia’s arms. Jenni was far away in Mexico. (Well, Portugal right now, but she’d eventually return to Mexico).
You promised yourself you wouldn't let your insane, full of jealousy thoughts ruin what you had with Alexia.
—
People found out about you and Alexia a month later. And by people, that meant the whole damn earth.
Since you never mentioned Alexia to your friends—just casually mentioning that you were seeing someone, but not necessarily specifying who exactly you were dating—the moment your pictures with alexia blew up on the internet, so did your phone.
They were candid pictures of you and Alexia at the beach. Private candid pictures.
You unlocked your phone and scrolled through the countless texts from your friends.
how did you manage to bag THE alexia putellas???
idiota text me back wtf!!!
did you blackmail her oh my god you genius
Which were definitely rude. And didn’t help at all the voices at the back of your head screaming that you weren't good enough for Alexia.
It was a hellish morning.
The only thing saving it was the sound of keys at the front door, and a moment later your girlfriend was stepping inside your apartment, humming happily as she placed a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. She most likely hadn’t seen the pictures yet.
“Ale,” you called out, giving her a weak smile as she turned her head towards you.
“Hola, mi amor,” Alexia instantly furrowing her brows at the sight of you sitting on the couch. “Whats wrong?”
You hated how she could read you so well. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”
She flopped down on the couch next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and bringing you into her side. You left out the biggest sigh and just handed her your phone, where the pictures of the two of you were still open.
You felt Alexia stiffen up and you closed your eyes, willing that this wasn't the end for you two. You knew just how much Alexia valued her privacy.
It was silent for a minute or so, alexia tapping away on your phone.
“Lo siento,” Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I already restricted the comments on your Instagram, you shouldn’t be dealing with all that. People can be a bit… much sometimes.”
Oh. You hadn't even thought to check your Instagram page. You were glad though, you couldn't imagine what vile things people were saying about you. It must be bad enough that that was where Alexia immediately thought to go.
“Is it that bad?” you voiced out, pulling back so you could see Alexia’s face. She looked surprisingly calm. “Babe, how are you so calm about this?”
“The comments on your posts are a lot, but I didn’t read them,” Alexia said simply. “It can be overwhelming, that's why I wanted to shield you from all of that. When you're ready you can just turn it back on.”
You smiled at how thoughtful she was. You really loved her. “You don't have to shield me from anything, Ale. I can handle a few nasty comments. You also haven’t answered my question.”
Alexia looked questioningly at you, grabbing at your arms to pull you closer again.
You settled nicely in her arms, your back pressing against her front as she laid down on the couch. “What question?”
“How you’re so calm about all of this.”
“Ah,” you can feel Alexia's chuckle and you turn around. You were now facing her again (your favorite thing to do—who would ever be tired of staring at Alexia’s face). You placed both of your hands on her face and ran your fingers through her jaw. “I’m anything but calm, bebita. You should feel my heart.”
“I can feel it.”
“Then you know I’m not calm.”
“You are the epitome of calm right now, baby,” you laughed, the nerves still shimmering across your entire body, whereas Alexia looked like it was just a regular Saturday for her.
Alexia took a deep breath and placed her hand on top of yours. “I’m scared. That is the truth. I’m really, really scared. But I know we will get through this. Together. As long as I have you and you have me, I think everything will be alright.”
You smiled at her, truly feeling how she meant her words. You pecked her lips and went back to snuggle into her, your head resting perfectly in the crook of her neck.
“I love you, Ale. You have me. Always.”
—
The next few weeks passed by in a blur. You finally got introduced to Alexia’s friends—Alexia brought you to Lucy and Ona’s housewarming party for their new place. Everyone loved you and you felt like you fit right in. It was great. You felt happy.
(You didn't let the thoughts of why it took a media outlet leaking your pictures for Alexia to bring you around to meet the people in her life, but you cast it aside.)
You met up with your friends and finally told them about Alexia. They were all wary, thinking it was too good to be true. A couple of snide remarks were thrown around about how Alexia could do better, even though your friends said it in a joking way, it still hurt.
But you managed by.
The next thing you knew you were being introduced to Eli and Alba.
It went fine, the most important people in your girlfriend's life seemed to like you, asking you questions about all sorts of things.
It wasn't until Alba casually mentioned how she was going to Mexico with some of her friends and how she would be staying with Jenni the whole week that you realized how closely intertwined Jenni was with Alexia’s life.
Your girlfriend's little sister lighting up as she mentioned all the places Jenni was planning on taking her to. You realized that Alba grew up with Jenni and she most likely saw Jenni as her big sister too; how devastated was she when Alexia and Jenni broke up and Jenni would never officially be a part of their family?
Going home that night, your mind was filled with how Alba and Eli were most likely comparing you to Jenni. Once again you were met with the question that seemed to always bother you: how were you supposed to compete with Jenni Hermoso?
—
The next thing you knew it was time for the World Cup. A very big deal for your girlfriend.
Especially since this was her first big tournament after suffering her injury.
You flew to support her, occasionally meeting with Alba and Eli for lunch (you knew you wouldn’t live up to Jenni, but you could try to make them like you better).
They hadn't given an indication that they disliked you, but just to be safe, you were willing to go the extra mile to make your girlfriend's family like you. You didn't have a decade-long history with them, but you could meet up with them to eat sushi even though you hated eating raw fish.
A small price to pay. Alba was really craving salmon sashimi.
At night, Alexia called you, telling you about her day. Mostly, you let her stay in the zone, you knew how important this was for her; you never called her first, letting her take the lead. You didn't want to be a distraction.
You two have talked about this before. You, scared that you'd be a distraction and Alexia looking at you as if that was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. Alexia reassured you that you'd never be a distraction and nothing had to change.
You were nervous. You didn't know what being a wag entailed during a big tournament.
It went fine though and your best friends did told you that you were worrying for nothing.
(You still couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that Alexia was spending basically every waking moment with Jenni. But it was fine. Jenni was her teammate. They support each other in different ways.)
Alexia called you every night, some nights Alexia fell asleep with the call still connected and you were left to longingly stare at her, longing to be there next to your girlfriend.
Despite her reassurance that she wanted you to bother her, you didn’t want to seem like a needy girlfriend.
So you toned down your texts, looking at updates of your girlfriend through Instagram (it was a bit pathetic). When you tapped on the next Instagram story and it was a video of Alexia giggling with Jenni, you almost lost it. Almost.
They were friends. Best friends. Exes, yes, but their relationship went beyond that. You knew this. You’ve spent hours down the rabbit hole of reading their history on some blog.
And once again you were left to wonder why Alexia chose you when she can be with her soulmate.
It was an endless cycle and you knew you couldn't go on like this. You had to talk to your girlfriend about your insecurities and just hope that she wasn’t going to think you were silly.
For now though, you were ready to cheer her on as she took the biggest stage in her career.
All the best teams in the world were great, but Spain was better. Alexia was a superstar, like always.
So of course Spain won the World Cup, you had no doubt about it.
What you didn't expect was Alexia exchanging jerseys with Jenni out of all people. You bit your tongue, the cheers all around you didn't do much to drown the thumping of your heartbeat in your ears.
You loved your girlfriend, you were so proud of her.
But as your sweet girlfriend celebrated on the pitch with her ex’s name on her chest, you never knew pain like this.
They were World Champions together. How could you even compete with that? It wasn't your name that Alexia was proudly showing off to the world.
You and Alexia’s family were then escorted backstage. You waited, and waited, swallowing the bitter feeling in your chest. You were happy for Alexia, you really were. But was it necessary to trade jerseys with Jenni?
Before you knew it, Alexia came barrelling towards you. J. HERMOSO visible across her chest.
You hugged her, whispered how proud of her you were, and when Alexia was whisked off for media duties, you prayed that she wouldn’t come to the same conclusion as you.
Alexia and Jenni had years of memories, years of going through the ups and downs of football together. Them winning the World Cup together just added another notable piece to their already intricate history.
Jenni Hermoso was a million times better than you, her winning the World Cup just sealed it even more.
—
You let Alexia celebrate with her teammates, desperately trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as you waited for her in your hotel room.
She insisted you come along, but you declined, not wanting to rain on her parade.
When Alexia stumbled into your hotel room later into the night, you traded sweet nothings into each other’s ears as you let Alexia do whatever she wanted to you.
You felt loved, but you still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest that Alexia could love Jenni better.
—
Being back in Barcelona felt nice.
You were a million miles away from Jenni but still the feeling of insecurity lingered. You knew you had to talk to Alexia soon before it ate you alive.
You just didn't think that it’d blow up to an argument.
You went out with your friends for lunch, promising Alexia that you’d be back in time for your weekly movie nights.
When you entered your shared home you were met with Alexia lying horizontally on your couch.
She was laughing at the TV, too engrossed in whatever she was watching that she hadn’t noticed you coming in.
You went straight to the kitchen, rummaging around your fridge to look for something to do. You weren’t hungry after the lunch you had, but you just wanted to do something. Your hands were full of nerves, mostly due to the annoyance radiating off you.
You were annoyed at your friends and how they kept on making comments about you and Alexia. They didn’t mean any harm, but it got too much.
Before your thoughts wandered further, you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist.
“I didn’t hear you get in.”
You hummed, looking at the ingredients in front of you. Guess you were making some banana bread.
You could feel Alexia’s gaze on you as you basically ignored her. Alexia always knew when something was up with you.
“Is everything okay? Why are you baking?”
You shrugged, getting the necessary equipment from the cupboard.
“Y/N?”
“I just feel like baking,” you didn’t mean to sound curt. Alexia immediately loosened her grip on you, leaning against the counter as she searched for your eyes.
“Okay… Well, do you want me to help?”
“Not really.” You knew you weren’t being fair—Alexia didn’t do anything wrong—but you had your reasons.
Your reasons were the comments your friends made that reinforced the thoughts you had been carrying around for months. You were insecure, disgruntled, and dejected all at once.
You paused for a second before blurting out, “Why didn't you want anyone to know about us?”
Alexia froze. The conversation thrown around during lunch earlier kept echoing in your head.
“Was keeping it a secret Alexia’s idea?”
“Why though? Is she ashamed of you or something?”
“Is it true that she used to date Jenni Hermoso?”
“If I used to date Jenni Hermoso then I would never—well, I wouldn’t say downgrade, but…”
“Hey, that’s just mean! Alexia didn’t downgrade with Y/N!”
“You’re seriously picking Y/N over Jenni Hermoso? Y/N, you know I love you, but let’s be serious for a second.”
“Ale, are you embarrassed of me?”
“What?” Alexia was taken aback at your question, a bewildered look settling on her face. “I am not embarrassed of you. Where is this coming from?”
You scoffed. “Then why didn’t you want people to know about us? About me?”
Alexia was speechless for a second, not expecting that this was where the conversation was going. “Because my world can be harsh and I just want to protect you from it. I told you this, amor. We’ve had this conversation before.”
While that used to sound sweet, now it just irritated you.
“Yeah, but I can handle it.”
Alexia gave you a look that said she didn't believe you. You felt offended. Sure, you were an overly emotional person, but you were sure you could handle it. You were handling it. There were people who spewed out nasty comments about you on the internet everyday but you brushed them off—none of their opinions matter to you.
Your girlfriend’s opinions matter to you.
“Glad to know you think so highly of me,” you sarcastically said, angrily slamming the bananas on the counter. This conversation was really getting on your nerves. You almost wished you didn't bring it up in the first place.
Alexia let out a sigh. “It’s not that I don’t have any faith in you. I just want to protect you. The last time I was in a relationship, it was with someone in the football field,” you hoped she didn’t notice how you immediately stiffen. “I didn’t have to worry so much because she knew how it was—”
You suddenly were so irritated at the reminder of Jenni that you snapped. “I know I’m not Jenni!”
Alexia was surprised at your sudden outburst.
“Qué? I know you are not her—”
“But you wish I was.”
Alexia looked so taken aback at your accusation that you immediately felt guilty for ever saying it.
“…What?”
But it seems that despite the guilt you felt, the pent up anger inside you was overflowing, desperate to let itself out.
“Jenni is perfect, Jenni plays football, Jenni can handle the media, Jenni knows all your friends and family. Everyone likes Jenni better than me!”
“Amor, no! That’s— Where is this coming from?”
You almost wished you didn’t mention any of this in the first place with the way Alexia was looking at you like a blindsided, kicked puppy.
You wanted to try to explain your side of things to her. You felt like your feelings about this whole thing were valid, albeit you could definitely handle it differently. Like, not bottling things up until they eventually blew up.
“You’re still good friends with your ex, Ale,” was all you could come up with.
“…Yes? We went through a lot together; she was a big part of my life.” At that you rolled your eyes. Obviously she was a big part of Alexia’s life. Weren’t all exes a big part of our lives at some point?
When you didn't say anything else and continued to prepare for your banana bread, Alexia continued, “It wasn't a bad breakup... We just decided that we were better off as friends.”
Honestly, you’ve had enough of hearing about Jenni.
“That’s exactly it, isn't it? You two went through a lot together, Ale. You won the freaking World Cup together and you went around parading her name on your chest while I was at the stands cheering you on despite having to see you with your ex’s name on all the fucking pictures of you and the trophy. And yeah she lives all the way in Mexico but you have international camps together while I'm at home, watching Instagram stories of you two, wondering why you're still giving me the time of the day when you could be with someone like her? For god’s sake Ale, she's hot! I get it! I do! And she’s 5’9 and I’m not—”
“Amor, stop,” Alexia interrupted your rambling, stepping closer to you but you didn't let her, shaking your head and taking a step away. “Y/N, I had no idea you felt that way—”
“It’s stupid. Forget it.” Embarrassment filled your cheeks.
“No, no, it’s not. It’s not stupid if you feel that way, my love. I’m so, so sorry that I didn't realize how this was making you feel.”
You sighed. It wasn’t Alexia’s fault, you knew that. You should've told her. It wasn't her fault because she didn't know.
You were now even more embarrassed that you let it turn into such a big deal.
So you took one last look at your girlfriend and ran out the door.
—
An hour into your aimless walk, you realized that you didn’t bring your phone with you, which meant you couldn’t Uber your way back home.
You realized that this meant you couldn’t call anyone to pick you up.
To make it worse, the sky started to rumble, signaling that the possibility of a heavy rain was coming sooner than you think.
Everything felt like a disaster.
You slumped down on a nearby bench. You knew where you were, you had no trouble getting home without Google maps. But it was an hour walk here, which meant it would be another hour walk home.
You groaned, thinking of the best way out of this predicament you put yourself in.
It was nearing midnight, but Barcelona had always been a lively place, so there were still plenty of passersby. You could ask to borrow someone’s phone, call Alexia, and wait until she picked you up.
But that would mean a random stranger would have Alexia’s number on their phone. You didn’t know if people would recognize you and put two and two together on who you were calling. You didn’t want to take that risk.
You could call one of your friends, but you didn’t remember any of their numbers.
The only number you knew by heart was Alexia’s.
Placing your hands over your face, you took a deep breath and pushed back the stinging feeling behind your eyes. You couldn’t cry. You really wanted to because of how pathetic you were, but you couldn’t. You’d just feel even worse.
With every minute that passed by, you started to feel even more guilty at the thought of how worried Alexia must be.
Standing up, you decided you could just borrow someone’s Uber app, or even hail a taxi from somewhere. You decided that you had to go home right now. Alexia must be driving herself crazy when she realized you weren’t one call away.
Just when you were about to step into the direction of two friendly-looking strangers, the first droplet fell on top of your head.
“Fuck.”
Soon enough, the rain went down heavily. Everyone started running in all directions, trying to shield themselves from the pouring rain and you were left standing there, feeling sorry for yourself because great now you were stranded and drenched.
You sat back down and let the rain wash over you, finally letting out the sobs you were withholding.
You had a lot of thoughts in your head, but mostly, you just wanted Alexia. You wanted her right now. If you weren’t such a jealous girlfriend, you wouldn’t be in this situation. You wouldn’t be questioning her decade-long friendship with one of her best friends.
You wouldn’t—
“Amor!”
You whipped your head up and despite the water blocking your eyesight, you could always tell that it was your girlfriend’s figure running towards you.
You were a sobbing mess, sitting all alone in the rain in the middle of Barcelona, but still Alexia managed to find you. Alexia was drenched all over too, no umbrella in sight, as she kneeled down on the pavement and brought your crying face into her neck.
Alexia pulled back and you could tell that she had been crying too. Great. You felt a million times worse now.
“What the hell are you doing?! You didn’t have your phone with you, I didn’t know where you were!”
“I’m sorry,” you cried out, your voice barely audible due to the heavy patter of the rain. “I walked for a long time and I ended up here and it was an hour away and I didn’t have my phone, I couldn’t get back home without walking another hour and my feet are killing me and I feel so bad because you must be so worried and it’s all my fault! And now you’re here, I don’t know how you managed to find me but I’m so glad you’re here and oh my god—we’re both probably gonna be sick. I’m sorry! I love you, Ale, I’m so sorry!”
“Hey, hey,” Alexia cooed, placing her forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay. I love you too, please stop crying, mi amorcita. It’s okay.”
You took a deep breath, which didn’t end up helping because having water fall over your head made breathing a bit harder.
Alexia placed a kiss on your forehead, standing up and pulling you against her.
You felt yourself sag against her, Alexia holding you upright. “Can we go home? I’m really cold.”
“Of course, mi vida. Let’s go home.”
—
Once you got into Alexia’s car, you started to cry again.
Mostly because it was warm and you were so relieved, but also because you felt bad that you were flooding her car with your wet clothes.
“Y/N, what’s wrong?”
Alexia placed her hands on your cheeks, wiping away your tears.
“I’m ruining your leather seats. Your car is ruined.”
Alexia let out a laugh. You looked at her like she was crazy. “Stop laughing at me,” you cried out. “Ale.”
“Oh, bebé,” Alexia tugged you across the console, wanting to pull you close once more. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”
“Then?”
“You’re too cute, you know? This will all dry up, amor. Besides, you’re not the only one whose clothes are wet. Look at me.”
You knew Alexia was trying to cheer you up, but at the reminder that the reason Alexia was soaked in the first place was because of you, you felt your bottom lip start to wobble.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “Now we’re both gonna freeze to death.”
Alexia simply placed a kiss on your cheek, putting the car in gear. “I won’t let you freeze to death.”
Looking out the window and seeing the familiar route home, you felt at peace even though you were still trembling from your wet clothing.
You didn’t know what state you would be in had Alexia not found you.
“Ale.”
She looked at you for a split second before redirecting her gaze on the road. “Hm?”
“How did you even find me?”
You saw the smirk before she could answer. “It’s called telepathy, amor.”
“Ale. I’m serious.”
“I’m serious too,” Alexia shrugged, a coy smile on her lips. “It’s our connection, Y/N.”
You rolled your eyes at her antics. “Whatever. Idiota.”
Alexia laughed, her hand blindly searching for yours. You let her take your hand, the touch causing warmth to settle deep in your chest.
You didn’t let go of her hand all the way home.
—
After taking a warm shower, you laid on your side of the bed, waiting for Alexia to finish with hers.
(Alexia decided to shower in the guest bathroom, not wanting to invade your privacy in case you were still mad at her.)
(You quickly rebutted her statement and said that you weren’t ‘mad’ at her, just ‘annoyed’.)
Just when you were about to call out her name because Alexia was taking too long when she could shower in under five minutes, your girlfriend appeared, leaning against the doorway of your shared bedroom, a sheepish smile on her face.
“Can I still sleep with you or should I stay in the guest bedroom?”
You gestured for her to join you on the bed, relief falling on Alexia’s face as she approached you.
Once you were both under the covers, Alexia immediately resumed her position as the big spoon. You placed your hand over hers that was draped across your stomach, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you.
“Can we talk about it?” Alexia whispered.
You didn’t want to. You were embarrassed. But you knew you had to. So you took a deep breath and let out everything you had been feeling for months—how you knew Alexia loved you, but oftentimes your thoughts took over and convinced you that Alexia couldn’t love you fully, not really. Especially knowing that she could have someone as perfect as Jenni.
“Y/N, I don’t want Jenni. I’m not in love with her anymore. You have to believe me.”
“But she’s… she’s perfect for you.”
“You’re perfect for me. It’s you I’m in love with. It’s you I love, Y/N.”
You turned around at the way Alexia’s voice was shaking, which was usually the tell-tale signs that she was about to cry.
And sure enough, Alexia had tears welling up in her eyes and that broke you. Your girlfriend was never one to cry often so the sight made you crumble and realize just how much she was telling the truth.
You reached out and wiped away her tears that managed to escape, placing a soft kiss on her nose. “Please don’t cry, Ale. I’m sorry—“
“Don’t apologize,” Alexia interjected. “You have nothing to apologize for, baby. I’m just sad because you can’t see how amazing you are. It pains me that you don’t see yourself the way I see you.”
“I guess I just can't wrap my head around the fact that you can have someone like Jenni, yet you’re choosing to be with someone like me.”
“Hey, don't be mean to my girlfriend,” Alexia turned serious, staring right into your eyes as she speak. “She’s perfect to me. She’s the only one I’ll ever want. Ever.”
You stayed quiet, taking in her words. You still didn't know what Alexia saw in you, but with the fierce stare full of determination she was wearing, you were starting to believe her. Believe that there were amazing qualities about you that made Alexia fall head over heels in love with you.
“You promise that you’ll love me even though I’m nowhere near as good as Jenni at football and I’m not as famous as her—Ale, I don’t have a World Cup trophy…”
“Y/N, my love, of course I do. I promise. I love you. I do, with all my heart.”
You took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m still going to have my insecurities. They’re not going away just like that.”
“I understand, amor,” Alexia placed her hands on your cheeks, caressing them gently, you could feel her love for you seeping from her fingers. “I’ll tell you everyday that you're all I’ll ever need until you believe me.”
You didn't have to be a footballer and you didn't have to go and win a World Cup, Alexia would still love you for who you were.
—
The opening game of the season fell on your birthday. You were seated at your usual seat with Alba and Eli. Eli had organized a small party after the game, she had baked you a birthday cake and wanted you to blow out the candles before your birthday dinner with Alexia.
When your girlfriend went out to the pitch, your jaw dropped. Instead of wearing her usual 11, she was wearing your birthdate on her back.
She easily spotted you in the stands, pointing at her back then pointing at you. This is for you, you could hear her message loud and clear.
You could cry right there and then. (You did cry).
Later Alexia uploaded her usual post-match Instagram post. The pictures of her wearing the jersey with your number made it extra special, especially the video she included of herself running over to you, lifting you up in her arms, and spinning you around—the happiness radiating from the two of you clearly visible.
The cherry on top was the caption underneath:
special numbers today in honour of my girl’s birthday. te amo mucho, amor @y/n 🥰❤️
All those fears of being not good enough, all those fears of Jenni replacing you, you now thought it was all so silly.
Because you knew without a doubt how much Alexia loved you.
“What are you daydreaming about?”
“Nothing,” you shrugged, a cheeky smile on your face. “Just thinking about how dumb you look with that birthday hat on.”
“Hey! This is all for you, amor!”
You laughed at her pout, the pointy birthday hat still sitting on top of her head.
You were at one of the fanciest restaurants in Barcelona. Everyone was wearing a fancy dress—you were wearing one too, Alexia on the other hand was wearing a dapper three-piece suit.
You had a birthday hat in your clutch from Alba earlier and once you both had ordered, you took it out and gave it to your girlfriend. You jokingly asked her to wear it, not expecting her to do so.
But when she took it with a roll of her eyes, “anything to make you smile” falling off her lips and she ended up wearing the thing throughout your dinner, you had no more doubt that it was you Alexia wanted.
You didn't have any football silks, you weren’t a World Champion, you weren’t Jenni Hermoso.
But with every waking moment you spent with Alexia, you could feel how much she loved you despite it all.
Especially when Alexia got down on one knee and especially when you had a mini-you running around. You knew that there was nothing in this world that could change what you had with her.
(Not even Jenni Hermoso, who is now someone you call a best friend and the godmother to your daughter).
—
thanks for reading, let me know your thoughts!!🫶🏼
#woso x reader#woso#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas#woso fanfics#woso community#fcb femení
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Uncle sukuna
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
Uncle Sukuna hates children and that just makes kids like him more.
They are practically magnetized to the man.
If he was being honest, he's really just afraid of hurting them, that and he has no idea how to handle a crying child. So, he avoids them at all cost.
Sometimes there's just nothing he can do though, especially when a little monster like his nephew is napping on his chest.
Which he does frequently.
Sukuna would be mean. Straight up telling the kid he was annoying. Yuuji would almost never care.
Almost.
“Don’t even think about it you little brat.” Sukuna would protest, seeing Yuuji crawling across the sofa. “Nu uh. No. Get your sticky little hands off of me!”
But eventually he would have to give in, rolling his eyes as Yuuji found his place- drooling over Sukuna’s shoulder.
Sukuna was also the type to say no and never mean it.
“Can we watch my show kuna?”
“No.”
Five minutes later? They’re smooshed together watching Yuuji’s stupid cartoon.
“Uncuna… can you help with my math homework please?”
“No.”
The next second Sukuna is in full tutor mode.
You might think that he’s the type to make a kid cry over their geometry work, but he is typically more patient than expected.
“Kuna can you make me some cinnamon toast?”
“No.”
“Pleaseeeee?????”
“No, Yuuji.” He’s firm.
Yuuji knows he’s getting that toast.
Sukuna has a love hate relationship with the kid. For Yuuji, it’s just love. That’s why, on the rare occasion, Sukuna might be just a little too rough on him.
It would likely be after a long day, maybe he worked late, maybe he had to deal with a rude person, maybe he didn’t sleep well. Whatever the case, the tattooed man would have an already short fuse when he walked in the door.
Unaware of his bad mood, Yuuji would flip around on the sofa, hearing the key turn in the door.
“KUNA!!!”
Yuuji would bound off the couch, racing for his uncle. Sukuna would sigh and roll his eyes as the boys grubby little hands encircled his leg.
“Kuna kuna! I had a presentation at school today! And I did a really good job because everybody clapped at the end like this-“ the boy smacks his hands together over and over, a big smile on his face, “I was so nervous but now that it’s all over, I wish I could do it again! It was so fun! I can’t wait for my next presentation-“
“Oh my gosh Yuuji will you shut up? I really do not care about your school project.” Sukuna would know the second it left his mouth it wouldn’t be true.
Yuujis little arms would fall away from his uncle. A frown would cover his face. “O-oh okay.” He would stumble back, watching his uncles face.
Sukuna would groan inwardly. Knowing he had been too harsh. He never actually minded hearing about his nephews day, he was just overstimulated and now he felt awful. The little boy was holding up a strong facade but his lip wobbled. The man would sigh.
“Ugh, Yuuji, I’m sorry kid, that was wrong of me-“
“No.” The boy would sniffle, “s’okay. M’sorry for making you mad.”
Oh, now Sukuna might as well walk into oncoming traffic.
He sighs, “No, Yuuji, you didn’t do a thing wrong. Don’t apologize for anything, alright?” He would run a hand through his cropped pink hair, “listen, I’m glad your presentation went well, that’s good, how about we go get dinner after I wash up, whatever ya want.”
Yuujis eyes would widen, a big grin coming back, “Yeah?!” Sukuna would sigh at the kids forgiving nature.
“Yeah, kid, I’m starved.”
Yuuji would bounce up and down, then, without a moment’s hesitation, throw himself around his uncles leg.
Sukuna would pat the boys hair, cursing himself for being so short with the kid.
And after being so annoyed just a second ago, after watching Yuuji race off to change his clothes, Sukuna realized he had forgotten what had ruined his day to begin with.
Cute little brat.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jjk angst#sukuna imagine#ryoumen sukuna#jjk sukuna#jujutsu sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#soft sukuna#uncle sukuna#yuuji fluff#itadori yuuji#jjk yuuji#jujutsu kaisen yuuji#jjk itadori#jujutsu itadori#yuji itadori#sukuna x itadori#sukuna x yuuji#sukuna fluff#yuuji angst#sukuna angst#jjk au#jjk imagines#unkuna#jjk fanfic#jjk fanart#ryomen sukuna fluff#sukuna fanfic
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