#reposting because it wasn't showing up at the tags | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leahwllmsn · 4 days ago

Text

tell me I'm the number one girl in your eyes

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 2.5k

You thought that Alexia was the only person in the world who could never hurt you.

You thought about a lot of things. About how Alexia was going to be the one to propose. How your wedding was going to be an intimate one in your and Alexia’s hometown, by the vineyard. How you would have a maximum of two children, no doubt one of which was going to follow in Alexia’s footsteps.

Your life with Alexia was set. It was predictable, really. From the moment you met her back in Mollet del Vallès when you were children, to your first kiss in her backyard, to the day you moved to the city together.

Childhood best friends who fell in love along the way—it couldn’t get anymore perfect than that. Your families were neighbours, it was practically one big family. Everyone was looking forward to your wedding, and by everyone that included you too.

You had been dating for fifteen years (well, you were on and off at some point, but that didn’t count), so it wasn’t far-fetched that you were expecting a proposal soon. You and Alexia talked about getting married, it wasn’t a new subject for the two of you.

The only problem was that the proposal wasn’t coming and for the first time ever, you had a feeling that it wasn’t going to come. Ever.

You couldn’t pinpoint when Alexia changed, when Alexia stopped buying you flowers just because and when the conversations between you felt forced. Maybe it was after Alexia went back defeated from the Olympics. Or maybe it was after Barcelona won the Champions League and Alexia was everywhere but your home.

The distance between you grew and grew until you were left to beg for Alexia’s attention as if you were another fan and not her girlfriend, the person Alexia claimed she loved more than anything.

“I have meetings with investors tonight, for Eleven.” Alexia’s voice broke the silence in your apartment. “Might go on until late.”

“Okay,” was all you could say.

Another excuse, you figured. Another reason to avoid coming home to you. It had been going on for some time. You couldn’t remember the last time you went to bed at the same time anymore.

Alexia’s figure appeared in the kitchen, she went straight to the fridge and took out her box of orange juice. Gone were the arms around your waist, the gentle kisses to your neck as you read the morning news. Her laughter would ring around the space as she claimed “only old people read newspapers these days, amor!”

“Are we still on for tomorrow though?” You hated that your voice was hopeful. Too hopeful.

Alexia finally looked at you, her brows furrowed. You weren’t surprised anymore that she’d forgotten. It was laughable at this point because it seemed that you were the only one still present in this relationship.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Dinner.” You tried to act nonchalant about it, as if it didn’t hurt that your own girlfriend forgot about your birthday.

Alexia stared at you for a few seconds, then nodded. “Of course. You know I finish training at four. Dinner is at seven, right?”

“Six.” And I thought you have a day off tomorrow, you wanted to argue. But you kept your mouth shut and let it go.

Alexia finished her orange juice and grabbed her bag, stepping close to you to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Don’t wait up.”

And just like that she was gone.

“I love you too.” You whispered to the empty apartment. It felt humiliating at times, to be the only one left in a relationship.

You wondered if Alexia still loved you. You couldn’t remember the last time she said those three words to you. You had a feeling that she stopped, that must be why she never said it anymore.

You wanted to confront her about it, to ask her why you weren’t worth her time anymore, but you didn’t think you were ready to face the fallout. You would be devastated when Alexia decided it was time to leave you. It wasn’t an if, but a when, because you knew it was inevitable. It could be tomorrow, or in a few weeks or even months.

Selfishly, you wanted to keep Alexia to yourself a little bit longer. Even though Alexia didn’t feel like yours anymore.

You could pretend that you didn’t die every time Alexia’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. You could pretend that it was fine that Alexia never held your hand as you walked through the streets of Barcelona anymore.

You could pretend that Alexia still loved you, and that you were still the greatest thing the universe had ever given her—her words, a few years ago.

Tomorrow, you knew Alexia would go through her day as if it was just another regular day. If you were lucky, she’d remember that it was your birthday. If you were extra lucky, she’d even give you flowers.

Above everything though, you just hoped that she would show up to dinner.

You didn’t think you had any fight left in you if she didn’t.

—

The sun was shining against your face the moment you opened your eyes. Out of habit, your hands reached out to the other side. You couldn’t help the disappointed sigh that left your lips when you were met with empty sheets. You relished in the mornings when Alexia wasn’t awake and you could hold her, even though you had to pretend to be asleep as she gently lifted your hand and slipped out of bed when she woke. You missed when she would turn around and peppered your face with kisses to wake you up. She loved being the first thing you see in the morning.

Usually on your birthday, Alexia would treat you to breakfast in bed. It was tradition, one that she started ever since the two of you moved to Barcelona about a decade ago.

For a brief second, you had a dangerous glimmer of hope that Alexia was just in the kitchen. But with how quiet your apartment felt, you knew she left.

Alexia forgot. Or maybe she remembered, but she didn’t care anymore. You didn’t know which one was worse.

With a sigh and an ache so deep in your chest, you got ready for the day. You went through your usual routine: shower, breakfast, tidying any mess around your apartment that was out of place.

It wasn’t until an hour later that the doorbell rang. A part of you hoped that it was Alexia, but the thought disappeared as fast. Your girlfriend wouldn’t need to knock on her own door.

It was a delivery man. Surprisingly, with flowers in his arms. Your heart leaped to the faint hope that they were from Alexia.

“Y/N?”

“That’s me.”

“Must be a special day,” he gave a kind smile, handing the flowers over to you. “Delivery for you from… Alba.”

The tinge of disappointment couldn’t help but creep into your chest. Still, you gave him the best smile you could muster and thanked him.

Alba remembered your birthday. Scrolling through your phone, you saw more people who remembered it was your birthday, even people you weren’t that close with.

It was radio silence from the person who mattered the most to you though.

Sitting alone on your sofa, you realized that you had nothing to do. You cleared your schedule out, and Alexia would usually take the lead. It was tradition to spend your birthdays just the two of you.

You dragged yourself to Mercadona, wanting to buy yourself a small cake and some candles. Before blowing the candles out, you wished for the impossible; birthday wishes were supposed to be powerful, weren’t they?

I wish things go back to the way they were before

Most importantly… I wish my girlfriend still wants me

—

You arrived at your favorite restaurant at exactly six o’clock. You ordered a bottle of wine and finished two glasses when thirty minutes had passed and your girlfriend was still nowhere to be seen.

The need to cry was overwhelming, you felt the tears pooling in your eyes already, waiting for the right time to fall. But you swallowed the ache and forced yourself to think of something happy, because crying whilst being alone at a table clearly meant for two was pathetic.

Your texts and calls went unanswered. An hour in and your last resort was to call Mapi and ask her if she’d seen or heard from Alexia.

“¡Hola, cumpleañera!”

“Maps, hey,” you tried to keep your voice steady, but they were futile. You were truly going to sound pathetic with your question. “Have you… Is Ale with you?”

“Qué? Alexia? Is she not with you?” Mapi sounded concerned. She sounded like she was ready to fight her best friend for you. The fact brought a slight smile to your face.

“No,” you took a deep breath. You couldn’t believe this was how your relationship had come to be. “She’s supposed to be here an hour ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, chica. She left a few hours ago, I don’t know where she went.”

“That’s okay.” You stared at your empty glass and contemplated on whether you should pour yourself another. You’d finish the whole bottle by yourself at this rate.

“Do you… do you want me and Ingrid to come over?”

The offer was sweet, your heart swell at the reinforcement that there were still people who cared about you. But you didn’t think you could go through conversations without breaking down.

So you politely declined Mapi’s offer and poured yourself another glass of wine. You were finishing this bottle, you decided.

It was a strange feeling. To feel abandoned. Alexia had never made you feel that way before.

Alexia was your safe space. She made you feel loved and made you feel that you mattered.

That Alexia felt like a lifetime ago, like she belonged to another, better version of you—one worthy of her time and effort.

—

The apartment was dark when you got home, but you knew Alexia was here. Her car keys were on the hook, and the shoes she wore earlier were haphazardly placed by the front door.

“Ale?” You let out a wince as you took off your heels, you could feel a blister coming.

As you entered your living room, you found your girlfriend still in her Barcelona sweatshirt passed out on the couch. She looked so at peace that you couldn’t help but pressed a kiss to her forehead.

As much as you hated how she’d been treating you, a part of you still had so much love for her. You knew you deserved better than this version of Alexia, but you didn’t think you had it in you to let her go.

Alexia stirred, not even a guilty look when she opened her eyes and saw you standing there. “Hey, what time is it?”

“Late,” you muttered, walking back to your bedroom. You heard faint footsteps behind you, telling you Alexia was following you. You knew she was watching you, you in your fitted black dress that stopped just above your thigh. It was Alexia’s favourite dress on you, hence why you decided to wear it tonight.

“I… fell asleep,” Alexia’s voice broke the silence. She must’ve realized her mistake then. A part of you broke when she said nothing else, not even an apology.

“That’s fine,” you shrugged. You stripped off your dress and changed into a t-shirt. When you realized it was an old, faded one which belonged to Alexia, you angrily took it off and tossed it aside. This was supposed to be your side of the closet, but over the years, your clothes and Alexia’s have blended together.

“Amor…”

You couldn’t remember the last time Alexia called you that. It used to bring you warmth, but now it only made you feel mocked.

“What, Alexia?” You turned around and the sight of her finally in front of you, of her finally looking at you, made you snap. “It’s not like I waited hours for you, looking like a complete idiota as the waiter kept on checking if I was okay.”

“I didn’t—”

You put a hand up, signaling your girlfriend to stop talking. “Save it, Alexia. You know, I wasn’t even surprised that you didn’t show up. But I thought that your girlfriend’s birthday must count as a special occasion, right? I guess I really do mean nothing to you.”

“Your birthday?” Alexia’s eyes went impossibly wide.

You laughed, that evil laughter you hear from villains in movies. There wasn’t anything funny. You just felt so pathetic to the point that there wasn’t anything else you could do but laugh at the situation.

Alexia looked like she was close to tears, but you forced yourself to not feel bad for her. She made you feel so much worse these past few weeks.

“I don’t know what I did wrong, Alexia,” you sighed. You knew you were going to lose her after this. There wasn’t going back. “I’ve done nothing but love you unconditionally, but even that seems like it’s not enough for you anymore. It used to be though, so tell me, Alexia, what changed? What did I do to make you stop loving me? We used to be so good.”

The tears were flowing freely down your face. You looked terrible. Your heart was in pieces. It wasn’t a birthday you wanted to remember.

“Ale… If you don’t want me around anymore, the least you could do is tell me. Tell me so I don’t have to wait for you to notice me again. Tell me so I can pack up my bags and leave you alone.”

“It’s not like that,” Alexia finally spoke up, her voice barely a whisper.

“Then what? I feel like I don’t matter to you anymore. You’ve done a great job of showing me that. Forgetting that it’s my birthday is the cherry on top.”

Alexia was crying too, but you didn’t know why she was crying. Guilt, maybe? But this had been going on for some time, why feel guilty now?

“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you decided, having to force the words out of your mouth. “I know you don’t want to be the one to end things, so I’ll do you a favour.”

This wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted Alexia to fight for you, to prove you wrong. You wanted Alexia to tell you that she was sorry and that she didn’t realize she had been neglecting you. You wanted Alexia to pull you into her arms and not let go. You wanted her to convince you that you were still the love of her life and that she still loved you more than anything.

But Alexia said nothing else and that was all you needed to know.

#repost because it wasn't showing up in the tags?#woso x reader #woso fanfics #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso community #woso

568 notes · View notes

seiya-starsniper · 1 year ago

Text

On a dark and stormy night

Little non-explicit Sandflower prompt for my @monsterfucktoberbingobingo square - faerie

tagging @nualaofthefaerie cause you gotta 💖💖💖

AO3 Link Here, or read below:

-----------

It has been raining in the Dreaming nonstop for days.

Nuala sighs as another gust of wind rattles the windows of her bedroom, and another crack of thunder shakes the very foundations of the walls. She cannot sleep. She hasn’t slept well ever since Dream had ended his affair with Thessaly, the immortal witch.

Or rather, the witch had ended the affair with him. Hence, the endless bouts of rain.

Nuala tosses the covers off her body and lights the lantern next to her bed, having given up on sleep for now. Perhaps she could take a walk around the castle instead. Calm her nerves. Maybe even pour herself a glass of wine to help her sleep.

The castle halls are dark and dreary as Nuala walks through them, trying her best not to get lost. Still, she knows the halls and the stairways change frequently according to its monarch’s whims, and tonight seems to be no different. There are steps and turns she’s never seen before, and before she knows it, Nuala finds herself in front of a large wooden door with no other path forward. She considers turning around and heading back to bed, but something about the door calls to her, and so eventually, she pushes it open, surprised at how easily it gives underneath her hand.

She finds herself inside a small room with a roaring fire, sparsely decorated with only a single chair with a high back sat directly in front of the flames. Nuala smiles to herself as she moves towards the chair. This would be a fine place to escape the storm, the fire feels warm, and there are no windows inside the room so it seems to be a true escape from unpredictable weather raging just outside.

She jumps in surprise when she reaches the chair and finds it occupied instead of empty, as she expected.

“My lord!” Nuala cries out, when she realizes precisely who is seated in the chair. “My apologies, I didn’t notice you were there.”

Dream is curled in upon himself on the chair, his bare feet resting on the edges while his knees are tucked underneath his arms. His head is resting absently on a shoulder, and the dream king seems lost in thought for sometime before his eyes finally flit to meet Nuala’s. She doesn’t flinch underneath the intensity of the Endless’s gaze, but it’s a near thing.

“...Nuala,” Dream finally grunts, lifting a hand and gesturing to her to move closer. “Join me.”

“Yes!” Nuala squeaks, moving hurriedly to close the distance between herself and the small piece of furniture where the dreamlord has draped himself. As she approaches, the chair extends in length to accommodate her, effectively transforming into a small sofa. Dream rearranges himself to leave open a small space where Nuala can sit—sprawl, even, if she wanted to. She chooses instead to sit up straight, not wanting to look unseemly in front of Dream.

“My lord—” Nuala begins after some silence has passed between them. “Are you…are you quite all right?” she asks, already knowing the answer. Dream grunts and sits up slightly, shaking his head as he does so.

“I have been better,” Dream replies, before coughing into his fist, almost awkwardly. “But I suppose you already knew that.”

Nuala clenches her fists and nods, not knowing what else to do.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks, blushing as she realizes too late how suggestive her words sound. Dream lets out a small huff of laughter before he turns to face her, leveling the faerie with an intense gaze.

“You say you wish to help…” he says, his eyes trailing downwards from her face to her neck. Nuala flushes as he continues to stare but does not say anything more. His eyes are practically blackened, and Nuala cannot help but wonder what about her he’s so focused on. Surely he can’t be thinking—? No, he’s only just ended another relationship, there’s no way he would think of her like that. Nuala pushes aside her lurid thoughts and only nods firmly, meeting his gaze head on.

“I do,” she answers, proud that her voice does not waver. “If there is anything you need, I would be—”

“And yet,” Dream interrupts her, and oh. When had he come so close? One moment he was on the other side of the sofa and now his face is directly in front of hers. His expression is now contorted in displeasure as he stares down at her, and Nuala does her best not to shrink and curl up in shame.

“You wear a reminder of her around your neck,” he finishes, right before he forcefully tugs the pendant Thessaly gave her from underneath her nightdress causing Nuala to shriek in surprise. Dream has never touched her so familiarly before, and the residual warmth of his fingers seems to burn where he touched her to get at the necklace.

Dream hums as he turns the pendant over in his fingers, considering. Nuala wonders if he means to destroy it. She wouldn’t be surprised if he wished to, and if he asked, she would hand it over, although she’d be sad to lose it. It really was so pretty…

“How long have you had this?” Dream asks, no, demands, his eyes darkening once more as he waits for her answer.

“N-n-not long, my lord, I swear!” Nuala yelps. “She uhm, I mean Thess—”

Dream growls and Nuala shrinks back, chastised. She remembered now how her lord had commanded no one speak her name in his presence. Another awkward silence falls between them before Dream sighs and releases his hold on the necklace, letting it drop back down to Nuala’s chest.

“My apologies,” Dream says, his eyes returning back to their normal color. “I know you were close with…her,” he finishes, nodding at the faerie to gauge her understanding of how to refer to his ex-lover. Nuala nods her assent and starts fiddling with the pendant herself, focusing on it instead of meeting her lord in the eyes.

“She was nice to me,” the faerie says. “The necklace was…a parting gift,” she admits, wondering if it’s a mistake to do so. She really liked Thessaly, she was always telling her stories and making Nuala laugh, even if the faerie really didn’t care for her complaints about Dream. And there were so many, it seemed. No matter what her lord seemed to do, it was never enough for Thessaly to be happy.

“A parting gift,” Dream spits out the last word as if it were poison. Nuala flinches, but only so slightly. It was clear their breakup was still a sensitive subject.

“I suppose she thought she could bribe you to leave me with pretty trinkets,” Dream continues, sniffing disdainfully as his gaze returns to the pendant once more. “I imagine she thought you would choose to leave with her if she gave you enough shiny things.”

“I—no, I would never!” Nuala insists, dropping the pendant from her hands immediately. She’s horrified that Dream would ever think such a thing. Thessaly was nice, but the Dreaming was her home, and her loyalties did not switch so easily.

“No—you are still here after all,” Dream murmurs. “Still, I don’t like this,” he says, right before he grabs the pendant once more and snaps the chain clean off her neck.

“Lord Morpheus!” Nuala cries unhappily. So he was going to destroy the pendant after all.

“Peace, little one,” Dream replies, holding up the pendant, undamaged, though the chain it sat upon is irreparably broken. Nuala silently mourns its loss but she supposes it’s better than the whole thing being destroyed. “I will return this to you,” he adds.

Nuala feels a surge of warmth as she reaches to take the pendant back, but Dream holds it just out of reach and shakes his head.

“Before that,” Dream says, “I would like for you to tell me a story.”

“A story, my lord?” Nuala asks, unable to hide her surprise.

“Yes,” Dream says, waving the pendant back and forth. “In exchange for your secrecy, you will give me a story, and I will let you keep this trinket now that I know it poses no threat.”

Oh. Of course that’s what he wanted to inspect the thing for. Of course.

“Are we in agreement?” Dream asks her, and Nuala nods eagerly.

“Yes, my lord,” she answers, and then she begins to think of a story that would be worthy of telling to the Dream King. She’s so lost in her thoughts and what to talk about that she does not notice Dream shifting his position until a weight makes itself known on her thighs. Nuala squeaks when she realizes Dream has lain his head down on her lap.

“My lord?!” Nuala asks, her whole body feeling as if it were on fire. Could one self-combust in the Dreaming? She certainly felt like she was. Oh gods, how was she supposed to concentrate on telling a story now?

“Hmm?” Dream hums as if there were absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. As if this was something he did all the time. When Nuala looks down at him, she notices his eyes are closed and thank goodness for that.

“I—are you comfortable, my lord?” Nuala asks, hoping Dream cannot hear her how fast her pulse is jackrabbiting.

“I am,” Dream answers. “You may begin.”

#the sandman #dream of the endless #nuala of the faerie #sandflower #monsterfucktoberbingo #reposting because it wasn't showing up in the tags #seiya's monsterfucktoberbingo fills #seiya writes sandflower

23 notes · View notes