#stranded in Barcelona

[cyb0rg-bby]

Once again fighting for my life trying to leave London

[contremineur]

Barcelona at dawn. The hotels are dark. All the great avenues are pointing to the sea.

James Salter, opening lines to Am Strande von Tanger

from here

[meowmeowmessi]

laporta and co orchestrating the most heinous smear campaign known to man against messi and his entourage

[diegartlerei]

Vitamin Sea #meer #strand #sonne #sand #bcn #barcelona #beach #travel #citytrip #diegartlerei #münchen #beachlife #happy #qualitytime (hier: Platja de Sant Sebastià) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cpw0jbQKCJO/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[ceesimz]

Lavender

A date that unfortunately doesn't go as planned. (autistic!reader - angst -> fluff)

Reverie series here as always! A verrrry real experience depicted in this one, with some amazing help from @pickledwoso that i am very grateful for, thank youuu <3

“Engel, are you ready to leave?” Alexia sang as she headed out of the bedroom towards where you were at the door rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, waiting for her.

“Yes, you fool, I've been ready for the past half hour.” You rolled your eyes at her teasingly, laughing when she lightly pawed at your side where she knew you were ticklish. “Come on! You're taking all day.”

“Ay, it is our day-off, I can take my time for once. No rushing, just calm, and me and you.” She gave an alluring smile, sliding her hand down your arm until she intertwined your fingers, then leaned forwards to kiss your forehead. “Are you excited?”

“Very. I love when we do this.” You told her with a squeeze of her hand. The girl grinned, her eyes brimming with excitement and complete happiness seeping from her pores, like the prospect of visiting a farmer's market with her girlfriend was as exciting as a third Ballon d’Or.

“Me too.” She gently knocked your chin up and pecked your lips before brushing back a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, are we ready, mi vida?”

“For the love of god, yes!”

Any time the club issued some days-off, one of the things highest on the list for yourself and Alexia was visiting the local farmer’s market. You’d buy the best of the best fresh organic products and cook together a dish of food that, combined with the quality time you'd spend with each other, would make for a night-in together that was so much better than going out somewhere. 

These days had become somewhat of a tradition, and with it being the penultimate day of the short summer break after the tournament Alexia had gone to, it was absolute perfection. The last day had no plans apart from relaxing and spending time together before the season started again. You couldn't think of a better way to spend the last bit of time off than a date to a familiar, easy place with Alexia that was sure to give way for a fun afternoon and evening.

With it being the height of summer, Barcelona was especially warm, which was perhaps the first warning sign of the day.

“Ale, you really need to get your car in the garage, your AC sucks.” You groaned, the vents on full blast yet hardly doing a thing to cool you down against the 35 degree air outside. Your window was open and your head rested against the door dramatically, Alexia couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight even if she did feel a little bad about it.

“It’s got a service next week, they will fix it then. Sorry.” She winced, hardly breaking a sweat in the weather she was more than acclimated to whilst you seemed to be struggling before the pair of you had even left the car.

You shrugged her off because it's not exactly her fault her car's AC has been faulty since the spring, and focused all your attention on the life-saving breeze hitting your face as Alexia maneuvered through some tame midday traffic. Hot weather wasn't one of your favourite things in the world, as a matter of fact much more comfortable in minus degree weather with tiny icicles on your eyelashes, but a year into living under the blaze of the Barna sun you had no choice but to put up with it.

Though, your patience with the heat wore off quick. And in its wake, a simmering feeling of restlessness, which should have been yet another warning sign. But you were too deep in your determination for this to be a good day for anything to write you off.

The market was only a short drive away, the two of you having opted out of walking because, well, duh, the weather, and just as the sweat that found its place on your nose no more than five minutes after stepping out of your ice cold shower finally began to evaporate, it came crawling right back the second you got out of the car. Alexia was starting to feel uneasy about the day's plans, and, really, so were you, but you were set on pushing through the constrictive feeling that had settled in your bones when the first bit of heat came your way after leaving your flat. There wouldn't be much time in the coming weeks for a day like this with your girlfriend, you weren't about to wreck it for the both of you.

From where the car was parked to the entrance of the market, you walked in silence, hand in hand across slightly worn stone tiles until the rusted old gates of the park stood before you. Over the threshold of the entrance, paved tiles turning to cobble, you knew the chaos the market had in store for you. You didn’t know if you could handle it. The writing on the wall was in the prickly sensation in your skin that was all too familiar, as was the way every nerve in your body screamed in discomfort, almost like your soul was desperately trying to find a way out of your body.

You ignored it, and headed towards the stalls before Alexia could ask how you were.

This place was familiar; you knew the ins and outs of each stall, you knew where to go, you knew how long it took to get around. It shouldn’t be too hard, right? 

You loved this place, of course it’d be fine. It beamed with energy, with good vibes, with good people. With its colourful displays of the finest fruit and vegetables, it was more than just a market; it was the heartbeat of the surrounding neigbourhoods.

All kinds of scents and aromas swirled around each corner, weaving themselves into the fabrics of people’s clothes and lingering long after they’d left. They were intoxicatingly good, and it was evident in the looks of wonder on everybody’s face, old or young, experienced shopper or recent newcomer. Vendors positioned at every stall or tattered wagon called out their offerings in a chaotic yet melodic mix of Spanish and Catalan, grabbing the nearest fruit or veg to wave around like an auctioneer with a hammer, the only use for it being to wave off the flies dancing tauntingly around their goods. 

Locals haggled over prices with the farmers they’d come to know just as well as their own family; their loud and boisterous back-and-forth banter may have sounded like arguing to unknowing tourists, but to everyone else it was understood as just some good-humoured ribbing that they all delighted in. It was more of a shuffle than a walk throughout the place thanks to the tourists that seemed to stop in the middle of the aisles every second, clearly oblivious to the well-practiced dance of the locals. Elderly ladies pulled their clueless esposos around with one arm whilst they carried their wicker basket in the other, the woven willow groaning under the weight of the countless ingredients to be used in that night’s meal.

For a moment, as you paused off to the side whilst Alexia caught up with one of the stall owners, a fisherman with his catches of the week proudly on display, which you knew your girlfriend would end the conversation by buying enough fish meat to feed the five thousand, you took a moment to breathe. Everybody seemed relieved of their life’s burdens here, gathered closely in one space that was steeped in the essence of the world’s simplest pleasures; flavour, tradition, and community. Only, the smile that was usually imprinted on your face whenever you came was no more than a distant memory. 

Despite the fairly shadowed area, considering the park was fenced in by sporadic trees that skimmed the roofs of buildings that showed off the city’s beautiful architecture, it was still insufferably hot. It radiated off of the ground, rebounded off the buildings around, and the flurry of structures meant there was no wind breaking through to give a cool Mediterranean breeze like you had before. 

Alexia seemed none the wiser, enraptured by the surroundings like it was her first time there, her head on a swivel and marveling at the mouth-wateringly exceptional variety of things to choose from. You hadn’t really been taking it in, your eyes stuck to the back of her head as you followed her through, waiting on shaking legs whenever she laughed and joked with each worker she bought from. 

This labyrinth of every cook’s dream was well and truly alive, but you weren’t. You couldn’t absorb the intense feeling of belonging and sonder you got whenever you came here. It was too much. The thought ate away at you, as with every fly that landed on your skin or every person that brushed against you, you became more and more on edge. 

All the different smells, the different sounds, the crowd of people, they didn’t spark those usual feelings of contentment and peace that transpired for you normally. Instead, they felt oppressive, like they were attacking your senses. 

The concoction of aromas forced themselves inside your nose and overloaded you completely, the squeamish smell of fish and the fiery linger of hundreds of kinds of herbs and spices bringing on a pounding headache. Every squeak of a wicker basket as the willow was put under more pressure could have been a gunshot for all you knew, the way it echoed around the tunnels of your ears. Anytime someone briefly put a hand on you as they moved past had you flinching, hating the unexpected contact as it was the last thing you needed in such a situation.

You didn’t find any comfort whatsoever in how Alexia’s hand never left yours for more than a minute, when normally it was something that grounded you. Her usually funny comments and little facts and point-outs of detail about her ‘second home’ (the name she had given it as she’d been coming here since she was young) didn’t make you feel any brighter, in fact you were pretty sure you missed most of them.

And as every minute passed, it appeared to get busier and busier, until it started to feel like you were in some kind of mosh pit, people bouncing off of you with every turn only for the next one to come along no more than a second later. You couldn’t hear a word Alexia was speaking, the once calming mix of languages turned into a booming echo of voices that were so close they seemed to be knocking on the bone of your skull, yet too distant for you to make out what anyone was saying, making it all so. much. worse.

Every voice, every footstep, every hearty laughter and every scrape of wood along the floor grated against your ears, all noises around amplified to immeasurable heights. The space was far too loud and far too crowded – each sensation you felt blurred into the next until it became impossible to separate from one another. But you did feel how each individual muscle tensed, from your legs to your shoulders, as Alexia continued to pull you through the market. 

You were hyperaware of everything around you and it soon became unbearable. But Alexia was happy, she chatted away like nothing was happening, comfortable and content as her canvas bag brimmed with stuff you didn’t even realise she had bought. You soldiered on, or at least tried to.

Until, your breathing began to quicken, your lungs unable to take in any of the stuffy air you walked through, your chest tightening in a way that only caused you to panic impossibly more. Each piece of fabric from your clothes grazed against your skin like a hundred scratches in a single second, your shirt and shorts beginning to feel like they were getting tighter with each step you took. And when the claustrophobia, the feeling like there was no escape at all, began to really set in, the day was over.

Your resolve had completely eroded. You tried to focus on grounding yourself — reminding yourself this was a safe space, but that was an empty claim to make to your shredded composure. You tried convincing your mind that Alexia’s hand in yours was comforting, when it only felt constrictive, her hand wholly enveloping yours like a snake, leaving no room to breathe. You clenched and unclenched your fist in time with your breaths, but you couldn't even inhale for a second before your mind went into overdrive. All the tools you relied on before were inadequate in that moment. The rational part of your brain slipped away, instead replaced by an instinctive need to escape. 

Surges of anger, panic, anxiety, fear, they all rose uncontrollably at once. Your jaw clenched, your free hand curled into a tight fist, and your vision turned hazy as your world dissolved into one indistinct blur.

The snapping point came abruptly. Perhaps it was a shrill laugh nearby, the clatter of a crate being dropped, or an impatient shove from someone trying to pass by. It was the smallest thing, but it tipped the scale far out of anybody’s control. You were alone in that moment. Trapped completely in your mind.

You missed how Alexia called your name over and over, how her hand nudged yours to desperately try to grasp your attention. It was only when her hands grabbed both your forearms that you were brought back down, but only for half a millisecond, before it all went south.

“What?!” You snapped at her, jumping back out of her touch. 

As a result, there were about thirty pairs of eyes on you. Everybody around paused, your sharp shout cutting through the buzz of the market, and it went so quiet that every flutter of a fly’s wing and every creek of wood could be heard. 

You took another step back when Alexia came towards you, a worrisome look on her face with her hands out in front of her like she was trying to not spook an untrusting animal in front of her. She rushed out some words of reassurance that fell into the background with all the other noises around that had picked up again, the market-goers losing interest in a seemingly harmless situation. They didn’t register within you, nor did her intentions. Your mind was far too good at playing tricks on you, convincing you of things that were far from the truth but in the moment felt like gospel.

There was no way out of where you were, both in the physical and the mental sense, and that was the main factor in the eruption that had just happened. With so many emotions coursing through you, there was an intense itch to find a release from them all. So before you realised, your arms crossed over your chest, hands on your upper arms just above your elbow, and you began to roughly palm, rub, grab at the skin there, needing a distraction from the volume of your mind and the world, whilst also desperately trying to get the movement to act as a release of the crushing press of the feelings inside of you. 

If you were alone at that time, god only knows what would have happened. Fortunately you weren’t.

The next time Alexia touched you was the featherlight weight of her hand on your lower back, the minor contact enough to lead you through the winding paths of the market. Your legs ran on autopilot, but you stumbled with every few steps, eyes too blurry to see the bumps and dips in the cobbles underneath your feet. There were probably tears down your face, though you’d reached such a broken point that your body was just… numb. You weren’t in control of anything anymore, hadn’t been for a while, but this was a new extremity. You weren’t even present in your own mind. Just an innocent, unknowing passenger in the car crash that had come out of nowhere.

Somehow, with her own hands trembling from concern, Alexia managed to lead you out of the chaos of the market to those same rusted, paint-chipped gates from earlier— the entrance of the park area. She was lost on what to do or say, but rationally she knew the only thing that would work for you right now was getting you home. 

“I will drive us back to your flat, back home, okay?” 

You gave her no indication that you heard her, which she was expecting, though you had heard the one word you were in dire need of and it was the first thing so far that managed to break through into your overwhelmed mind. Your hands were still moving roughly against the skin of your arms, sure to leave marks afterwards, but Alexia knew if she attempted to stop you, it’d only make matters worse. She had to get you home. Seeing you like this was breaking her.

It took a concerningly small amount of effort to guide you to the car; you were pliant and mindless, the exhaustion having fully taken over the minute you left the crowded space. She opened the door for you, helped you into the seat, and put the belt on. You leaned your head back against the seat rest and stared straight ahead. Whether it’d help or not, Alexia wasn’t sure. But she had to do one thing, more for the sake of her sanity than yours. With a quiet call of your name, she gently put a hand under your chin and turned you so you faced her.

“I’ll take you home and look after you. You will be okay.” She whispered, tentatively brushing away some of the tears still on your cheeks with her thumb. Her words were a sentiment for her as much as they were for you. “You’ll be okay soon.”

—

Next thing you knew, you were in your bed, lay on your side with your weighted blanket over you and Alexia nowhere to be seen.

It was definitely the calm after the storm. The room was mostly dark apart from the light that bled through the curtains which were closed, you could hear the quiet whir of the AC as well as the dull hum of traffic on the street below, but that was about it. It was a stark contrast to how things were before.

You don’t exactly remember getting home after what happened after the market, but what you did know was that though Alexia wasn’t in the room, she had been at some point, because you felt her love in the way she made sure everything was properly set up for you. The AC hadn’t been on before you left earlier and it only could have come back on by someone turning it on. The curtains were open that morning, whereas now they were drawn. And last time you checked, your blanket was still in the dryer, waiting to be taken out when you got back. 

Everything you felt earlier still echoed faintly inside your head and chest, but the weighted blanket over you helped to anchor you back to your life again, rather than the chaos you were drowning in not so long ago. Your mind was convoluted, thoughts jumbled, and you flitted from one shattered fragment of insecurity to the other. You were simply too exhausted to hold onto any of them, emotionally and mentally drained. Though, you still tried to identify what you were feeling— was it anger? Shame? Embarrassment? You couldn’t put a finger on it. 

Your hands still shook, your chest still shuddered with every breath. Your clothes still felt scratchy and overbearing, just less so now that you lay in the aftermath of it all. Instead of focusing on that, you drifted your attention to the feeling of the blanket on you; you focused on its texture, its softness, the heaviness of it and how it draped over you and helped to extinguish the flame that was overstimulation and overwhelm. These small but familiar details offered a tiny foothold in the mirror maze of your mind that you were still trying to escape from, only for the ruined reflection of you at the market to be shown back to you.

The longer you spent in that position, a deep, bone-level weariness quietly consumed you, like every aspect of you right down to your soul had been drained. But even still, your mind continued its hyperactive ways, replaying the day’s events over and over like a faulty film reel. The memory of it isn’t the slightest bit cohesive, it was just flashes of moments— the suffocating press of people from every direction, clamour of voices, the overloading mixture of scents. You alternated between frustration and exasperation, wanting to desperately forget what happened whilst not being able to move on from the embarrassment of it. 

However, the strain of it slowly began to dissipate with each minute you spent back at home in bed, a safe space where there were no expectations, where time was temporarily unimportant, and where there were no watchful eyes or scathing glares at the disruption you’d caused. And eventually, you felt like you had gained back control of your mind again. It was quieter then; the world felt muted, less aggressive, though you could feel that you were still wary of your surroundings because of how everything ambushed you earlier.

You weren’t fully recovered, you still felt heavy and your body ached due to the tension in your muscles and joints when it all came falling down, and you weren’t sure how much time had passed but the sun sat a little lower on the horizon when you finally felt able to get out of bed. The desire for time alone had gone, you needed something else then, and at this point of the relationship you felt comfortable enough to seek exactly what you needed without giving it a second thought. 

The door to your room creaked like it always did when you opened it, your apartment mostly silent save for the occasional huff from the kitchen as the person you were looking for busied herself with any chore she could think of as she waited patiently for you. 

You didn’t quite know what to say, but one of the best things about your relationship was that often in times like this, words weren’t a necessity. So you bypassed her and headed straight for the sofa, sitting in the corner and curling your feet underneath you, almost like you were making yourself as small as possible. And, just as you expected, not a minute went by before the blonde headed over, trying to disguise the worry she felt by giving a tight-lipped smile that was more on the amusing side than the reassuring one.

When she sat down, however, she left a gap between you both and perched only on the edge, which wasn’t what you wanted. One shared glance later and Alexia was smiling properly this time, shuffling to sit back against the cushions and beckoning you over with a small wave of her hand. With a sheepish but slightly triumphant look on your face, you moved along the couch and chose to sit sideways on her lap, one of her arms immediately wrapping around your waist as the hand of the other landed just above your knee. She pulled you close to her, and you settled into her with a relieved sigh, indescribably glad to have the final piece of the puzzle to self-regulation in your possession.

For some time, the pair of you didn’t speak, only relishing in the comfort you both needed after the day that had been had. At some point, Alexia noticed the redness to your skin from earlier and subconsciously brought a hand up to one of your arms, her thumb gently tracing over them with a frown on her face. She felt compelled to speak then.

“Please, engel, don’t put yourself through uncomfortable situations just to make me happy. If you asked me to, I would have taken you home earlier in a heartbeat.” The midfielder said carefully, panicking a little when she heard you sigh before calming when you buried your face in her neck.

“I didn’t really know it was going to be uncomfortable until it was already happening.” You told her in a mumbled, downbeat tone that made her hug you tighter against her. She contemplated her next words, wondering whether it was wise to voice them or not, before deciding that you’d hate it if you found out she’d kept her feelings from you.

“I’ve never seen you like that before.” Her fear and sadness was evident when she spoke, matching the frown still on her face and the furrow to her brow. You pressed your lips to the skin of her jaw in a somewhat apologetic gesture, which made her feel a little bad. “We’re both okay though, mi amor. I love you and we’re okay. I’m not mad or anything, this isn’t your fault. I don’t want you to feel guilty. It’s over now, it’s in the past, and we’re here together now.”

It might have been a minor reminder, but it relieved a lot of the remaining anxieties and insecurities you had. Even though she made sure you knew she never judged you for anything, you were only human, and sometimes the devil on your shoulder got the best of you. So, to hear her say she knew it wasn’t your fault and that she wasn’t angry, it was… very needed.

The mix of physical touch and words of affirmation never failed to work wonders for you. The period of time after an event like earlier was a delicate time to say the least, where your mind and your self-esteem was easily swayed by whatever reaction waited for you afterwards. Having Alexia be so welcoming, non-judgemental, caring and adoring even after what she’d witnessed made a world of a difference.

“Better day tomorrow?” You said shyly after moving back to look at her. She shook her head at first, which greatly confused you, before she smiled brightly, softly, reassuringly, and leaned forwards to kiss your temple.

“Better evening tonight after a bad day. And then a very good day tomorrow.” Her words were a little skewed, probably lost in translation, but you understand what she was getting at and it warmed your heart all the same.

It was important to you then, that you voiced your thoughts from just a moment ago. She had to know how important she was to you.

“Thank you, Ale. For everything.” You started, laughing quietly at the puzzled expression on her face. “You always know what to do, what to say. You always make me feel better after a day like this and I don’t know how you do it but… you changed my life.”

Her reaction was the sweetest. Her cheeks blushed red and she turned away for a moment with a tiny disbelieving shake of her head.

“I don’t know about that, cariño.” She murmured, but you weren’t having it. You put a hand on her cheek and turned her face back to you, ensuring she met your gaze before you spoke again.

“You did. I really mean it. I think about it a lot, how you’ve changed me, how I see myself because of you and how you treat me.” You paused for a moment, smiling up at her as her eyes silently urged you to continue. “I… value myself more because of how you value me. I don’t tell you enough how grateful I am for you and what you really mean to me. You’re the greatest person I have ever met.”

The normally sure and confident captain was rendered speechless in that moment, completely caught off guard and lost for words. How she could ever match the gravity and beauty of your words, she didn’t know. But they meant so much more to her than she knew she could ever express.

Ale ducked her head down for a moment as she really took in your words, before she lifted it back up again a moment later, with tears in her eyes. 

If only you knew how much you meant to her too.

“You’re my favourite person in the world, you know that?” She said with a pointed look and a raised eyebrow, almost accusing you of foolishly being uncertain about the fact that she stated so definitively. You knew she only did that to deflect the softness of her words a little. So, you just smiled, and tucked your head back into her neck and closed your eyes, completely at peace. “My favourite person in the whole world. You changed my life too.”

—

i really really tried my best to encapsulate the autistic experience of being overstimulated and overwhelmed in such a place here but i have no idea how well it comes across to a large audience. but for me and probably others, this is the reality, no matter how much you can plan and prepare and be excited for something, it can spiral out of your control so quickly and it's definitely a downer when it happens. hope this is somewhat understandable, im gonna go hibernate out of fear now, thank you v much for reading :)

[mapis-putellas]

𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow over Alexia as she stood by the counter, chopping vegetables with the precision of someone who clearly approached cooking with the same focus as football. She wore a loose Barcelona training top and a pair of shorts, her hair tied back into a messy ponytail with loose strands lightly brushing her cheeks.

She reached out toward the counter next to you, where the bell peppers sat. Without looking, she said, “Can you pass those, amor?”

You glanced at the packed three peppers, then at Alexia, and a mischievous grin spread across your face. You picked them up but didn’t move to hand them over. Instead, you leaned back against the counter, holding them hostage.

Alexia glanced up, her brown eyes narrowing slightly when she saw you weren’t cooperating. “What?” she asked, her tone laced with confusion.

“You want these?” you teased, dangling the peppers just out of reach.

Her brow furrowed, and she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. “Yes. Pass, please.”

“Oh, I’ll pass them,” you said, tilting your head playfully. “But it’s gonna cost you.”

Alexia’s mouth opened slightly in surprise, and you could see the wheels turning in her head. Her English wasn’t perfect, but she caught the teasing tone. “Cost?”

You held up a finger, smirking. “One kiss per item. That’s the price.”

Her lips twitched as if she was trying to suppress a smile. “One kiss?”

“That’s the deal, baby. Take it or leave it.”

She huffed, clearly amused despite her efforts to look annoyed. Stepping closer, she cupped your face and leaned in, her lips brushing against yours briefly. It was soft and warm, over too quickly for your liking.

“Okay?” she asked, pulling back and reaching for the peppers.

You grinned, shaking your head. “One per item, remember? You owe me two more.”

Alexia groaned, her head tilting back dramatically before leaning in again. This time, she kissed you twice, slow and lingering, before finally grabbing the peppers.

“You’re very expensive,” she muttered, shaking her head as she returned to her chopping.

You leaned on the counter, watching her with a grin. “Worth it, though.”

Dinner preparation turned into a game. Every time she needed something, a knife, the garlic, it came with the same price. Each time, Alexia would sigh and roll her eyes, but she always paid, sometimes pressing quick kisses to your lips, other times brushing her mouth against your cheek or forehead. By the time dinner was ready, her lips were slightly pink from all the kissing, and she was barely able to suppress a smile at your antics.

After dinner, Alexia cleared the table while you leaned against the doorway, watching her. She moved with practiced ease, her focus evident as she wiped down the table and stacked the dishes ready to go into the dish washer later. When she went to walk past you and leave the kitchen, you stepped into the doorway, holding your arms out wide and resting your hands on either side of the door frame.

“Sorry, baby,” you said, your tone playful. “Toll road’s closed.”

She stopped, blinking at you in confusion. “What is this?”

“Five kisses to pass.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Five?!”

“Yep,” you said, shrugging. “Inflation, you know how it is.”

Alexia stared at you for a moment, her lips twitching before she shook her head. “You crazy,” she grumbled, stepping closer and cupping your cheeks.

“One,” you said as she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You could feel the warmth of her breath hit the tip of your nose as she pulled away. You raised an eyebrow, and Alexia smirked as she kissed you again, then again, her hands sliding down to your hips as she got to five. On the last one, she lingered, her lips moving gently against yours as her arms wrapped around your waist, her hands linked together at the small of your back and grazing the top of your ass.

“Paid,” she whispered, her accent thick, before brushing past you with a smirk. You stare at her retreating back with lightly flushed cheeks, your breathing heavy as you just about mange to refrain from following her and demanding she finished what she started.

Later that evening, the two of you settled onto the couch. Alexia stretched her legs out, resting her feet on the coffee table as she adjusted the ice pack she’d placed on her knee. You noticed her wince slightly as she moved, and you reached out to rest a hand on her thigh

“Knee bothering you again?” you asked softly.

Ever since she’d done her acl, her knee could sometimes play up a little. You didn’t know if it was simply her getting in her head as she tends to do, overthinking every little ache or pain or if it was genuinely painful and bothering her. You didn’t dare ask, unwilling to upset her, but either way, you liked to do what you could to take care of her.

She nodded, her eyes flicking to yours. “A little.”

“Want me to massage it for you?”

She hesitated, brows furrowing as she considered the offer. “Yes, please.”

“Alright,” you said, patting your lap. “Put it up here. But it’s gonna cost you.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How much this time?”

“Fifteen kisses.”

Alexia groaned, her head falling back against the couch. “Fifteen? That is expensive!”

“Quality service, baby. You know the deal.” You pat her thigh.

With a dramatic sigh, she twisted her upper body and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to your lips. “One.”

You grinned, cupping her cheeks and pulling her closer. “Two.”

It took her a while to get to fifteen, mostly because you kept teasing her, nipping at her bottom lip or pulling her back for longer kisses. By the time she finished paying, her lips were slightly swollen, and her cheeks were pink.

“Paid,” she muttered, shifting to rest her legs across your lap.

You traced your hands over her bare legs for a moment, taking in the softness of her skin before beginning to massage her knee gently, your fingers working over the tight muscles as she let out a contented sigh. Her head rested against the back of the couch, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxed under your touch. Even when it was clear she was no longer in pain, you continue with the gentle massage, watching her stomach rise and fall with each breath as her eyes flutter closed.

“Better?” you asked after a while, your hands stilling on her leg, the pad of your thumb tracing gentle circles over the warm skin.

She nodded, her voice barely even a whisper as she spoke. “Much better.”

Later, when she asked you to scratch her back, you demanded ten more kisses. By the time the evening ended, you’d kissed her more times in one day than you had in a week. As you sit together on the couch, Alexia curled up against your side with her legs still thrown over your lap and her head resting on your shoulder, she looked up at you with a small smile. “Te amo,” she murmured, her voice quiet but sure.

“I love you too, baby.” you replied, wrapping your arm around her shoulders and pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

[mead-iocre]

Free Kick | Alexia Putellas x Reader

synopsis: you help alexia practice her free kicks

warnings: none

wc: 2.3k words

The sun hung low, casting a warm, golden hue over the pitch. The air was filled with the strong smell of freshly cut grass, the aroma so strong it nearly stung your nose but you were used to it. The goal stood lone— silent and imposing— the net hanging still. 

You cast your eyes over to your girlfriend in her natural habitat. You still weren’t used to seeing this side to her. Alexia Putellas, the footballer. La Reina. Champions League Champion, Balloon d’Or winner, the list goes on. But to you, she was just Alexia. The woman you kissed goodnight, and woke up beside the next morning. The woman who would stop in the middle of the street to bend down and tie your shoelaces for you. The same woman, who after a long day of practice, would never forget to stop by your favourite bakery to bring you a box of freshly made Ensaimadas. 

So seeing this side of her still stunned you sometimes. You watched as the Barcelona captain stepped back a few paces, her bright orange cleats pressing lightly into the grass. She rolled her shoulders back, shaking off any tension, and stared straight at the goal. She once told you that whenever she was practicing her free kicks, she would picture an imaginary wall of defenders– never letting herself work with an empty net. She would tell you that in real matches, players rarely get a shot at a free net so they should not get used to training with one. 

With a nod to herself and a quick deep breath, you watched on as she began her run-up. Her steps were measured and deliberate, graceful and agile. As she reached the spot, her non-kicking foot planted firmly on the turf, she swung her right leg in a powerful arc. The impact was solid, a satisfying thud that sent the ball soaring over the space in place of defenders. Hazel eyes followed its flight, watching as it curved gracefully, spinning toward the top corner of the net. The ball brushed the inside of the post and hit the back of the netting with a satisfying swish. You could imagine how addicting it must be as a football player, seeing your shots kiss the back of the net– like a sort of dopamine release every time they score goals. 

It was a good goal, impressive even, but your girlfriend was far from done. 

You’ve been sitting there for some time. For a while, you were content to fiddle with your phone. However, it’s been close to two hours and your girlfriend did not look like she was finished any time soon. You were, quite frankly, getting bored. Standing up and dusting yourself off of any remnants of turf, you walk towards where the midfielder was chugging a bottle of water. 

“Hey baby,” You hand her a towel, noticing just how sweaty she was up close. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, a few loose strands sticking against her damp forehead. Her tan skin shiny with perspiration, glistening under the bright sun. Her cheeks flushed red, droplets of sweat ran down her temples. 

But she gives you a sweet smile anyway. 

“Todo bien?” Alexia asks you as she accepts the towel, one hand coming up to squeeze your hip in thanks.

You hum in reply, taking the time to admire her while she’s preoccupied with the towel. “Pero soy aburrido” 

Alexia laughs lightly, the towel over her mouth. She’s been teaching you little bits of Spanish and you’ve been picking up on it fairly well— most of the time. She has the sudden urge to love on you. Her hand comes up to squeeze your cheeks together until your lips form a pout. She kisses your lips once, and then again, her lips curved up against yours. 

“estoy aburrido, amor”, She corrects gently, looking at you with warm, affectionate eyes. You love the way her eyes light up every time you put your Spanish learning to use. 

“Ahh si. Estoy aburrido” 

You don’t notice the way she observes you quietly as you mumble the Spanish word a few more times to yourself. That familiar concentrated expression on your face, the scrunch of your eyebrows and the slight tilt of your head, as if you’re trying to tuck away the new word in your brain for later. Alexia loves that you are so eager to learn her language. It’s just one of the many, many things she loves about you. 

“Hace mucho calor. You can wait inside if it’s too hot here…”

You shake your head. “The sun is setting soon and besides– maybe I can help you train again?”

Alexia smirks knowing exactly what happened the last time you helped her with her free kicks. But maybe “helped” wasn’t the right word. You didn’t really do much– all you had to do is gather the balls, kick them to her, and gather them again. You would argue your presence was Alexia’s good luck charm, and she probably wouldn’t refute that.

“Vale. How many?”

“Hm,” You tap your finger against you chin, looking deep in thought. Alexia watches you with a small smile on her face, but the smile vanishes the next moment. “score ten and I’ll give you a kiss.”

“joder. Ten?! The last time we did this you only asked for five,” Alexia starts, but you were already walking away and gathering a few balls, taking your position to the side of the goal. 

“Yeah, well I want ten today.” 

Your girlfriend rolls her eyes as walks to take her place by the free kick line– but not before muttering “do you even know how to say ten in Spanish?” under her breath.

She probably didn’t mean for you to hear it, but you did, so you answer her anyway. “Diez.”

Alexia shoots you a look, unimpressed by your sass, but she doesn't try to fight the smile threatening her lips. You flash her a bright smile of your own and signal to her that you were about to start passing her the ball.  

"Vale. Let's start," Positioning a ball by your feet, you wait until she gives you a thumbs up before kicking the ball towards her. She receives it easily; lightly tapping the ball with the outside of her boot, letting it bounce high, before sending it rocketing towards the net.

Alexia turns her head to look at you, one eyebrow raised, a corner of her lips turned up slightly. A quiet victory. She was taunting you almost, an air of confidence in her stance. She was going to score 10 free kicks, and she was going to get that kiss.

1

“See, easy. No idea why you were whining about scoring 10” You clap, pointing at the ball in the net, with another ball posed by your feet.

“I do not whine,” She calls out to you, a slight whine in her tone ironically. “Hurry— I want my kiss”

Being the girlfriend of a footballer meant you were familiar with the basics, thanks to the countless amount of times your girlfriend would beg you to join her for a kick around the park. Memories of her nagging you about your foot placement and techniques ring around in your head as you pass her the next ball.

She scores that one too.

2

Alexia received the next ball from your pass easily, nudging it slightly to the left this time with her foot. She was varying her technique, making small changes to make sure she was ready for whatever position the ball would be coming from. Whenever you would ask about why she would repeat the same drill over and over again, she would tell you that she needed to be versatile, unpredictable. You kick the next ball.

3

The midfielder repeated the same process, focusing on differenting her technique—sometimes curling the ball with the inside of her foot, other times going for a powerful, straight shot. 

Swish 

You kick another ball towards her, using the inside of your foot just like she taught you. 

4

“I’m quite good at this,” You raise your voice slightly from your spot, shielding your eyes from the blazing sun. The wind picks up slightly, the breeze lifting the stray strands of your hair.

It was quiet but you catch it-- your girlfriend's non-committal hum in reply. Her focus right now was solely on the ball. She kicks and this time the ball rocketed off the inside of her right foot. It arched gracefully mid-flight, dipping just in time to kiss the underside of the crossbar before nestling into the back of the net.

5

“I’m a great– what do you call it again– rebounder!” You gleefully kick the next ball towards her. You don’t mean to disrupt her concentration, but you were a yapper by nature.

6

Luckily your girlfriend has enough focus for the both of you.

Alexia signals to you that she’s ready for another ball, her focus on perfecting her technique unwavering, but seems willing enough to entertain your ramblings. “That’s basketball, mi amor. All you’re doing is passing me the ball”

7 

You huff, rolling your eyes. Leave it up to your girlfriend to concern herself about the semantics. “…well, I’m a great passer then”

When you don’t hear a reply you turn your eyes to her, but she is already looking at you. The ball you had just kicked over to her now sitting still beneath her boot. You raise a hand up, shielding your eyes from the glaring sun, squinting at her. She has that soft look on her face, a familiar one that she reserved only for you. She looks at you for a moment, the corners of her lips turned up slightly at the ends, head tilted slightly to the side. Nursing her bottom lip underneath her teeth, she looks as if she is trying to stop herself from saying something. Like a child with a secret they are close to bursting to share. 

“What?” You raise you voice slightly so she can hear you over the distance. 

She raises her head, hazel eyes locked on yours, her smile warm and familiar. “Nada. I just love you.”

“Oh.” 

The words send a wave of warmth through your entire body. Your cheeks flush, and you can feel the corners of your lips stretching into a shy smile. You look down at your old, worn converse shoes. It's these little moments that always catch you off guard, that make you feel like you’re experiencing love for the first time. You once thought love was fleeting, that it comes and goes, but since meeting Alexia you discovered that love was steady– it was constant. But it was also easy. Falling in love with her was the easiest thing you have ever done. Even after a year of dating the Barcelona captain, those words still make your heart swell with a familiar warmth. Those three words have become a daily affirmation, a constant in your life that has never lost its significance. After all this time, hearing "I love you" still makes your chest tighten, but in a way where you can breath easier. It’s not just a declaration anymore; it’s a quiet, steady truth.

“Oh? Que oh” The spaniard raises a perfect eyebrow at you, her tone light and teasing. “I tell you I love you and all you can say is “oh?”

You huff audibly, rolling your eyes at her. You run your hand through your hair, trying to brush away the embarrassment. “You’re only at 7 so far. Apúrate! Or else no kiss”

Alexia shakes her head but goes back to position. She toes the ball carefully, aligning it with the spot where she wanted to take her shot. She kicks.

8

Alexia turns to you, a grin settled on her mouth. She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts. “I’m getting that kiss, amor” 

You kick another ball towards her, trying to hide the growing smile on your face. This playful side to her was exclusive only to you, a side of her that she kept separate from the footballer persona.

9 

When you kick the final ball towards her, you were panting slightly. But seeing your girlfriend launch the ball into the net was worth the unplanned exercise.

10

The net rippled, shaking with the impact as you watched the ball settle behind the line, your lips break out into a a smile and you excitedly turn to look at Alexia, but she was already making her way towards you.

She moved towards you with deliberate slowness, the soft thump of her boots pressing into the grass was the only sound you could hear. Your pulse quickened, every inch closer making you more aware of the way her eyes never left yours— her hazel eyes darker than usual.

You stood rooted, hands clenching and unclenching by your sides, watching her approach. There was a haughtiness in her demeanour as she moved towards you. Her chest rose and fell slightly, but her focus is unwavering. The space between the two of you shrank until she was just inches away, close enough to feel the warmth of her body, but still holding back.

She stopped in front of you, breath hitching, her lips parted, hazel eyes flicking down to your mouth. You feel her finger slip into the band of your sweatpants, tugging you into her so that there is barely any space between the two of you. Her other hand grips your chin, nudging it upwards until her your breath mingles with hers. She leans in, daring you. "Now give me my kiss, amor."

Without waiting a moment longer, you stand on your tiptoes and close the gap, your hands coming up to cradle her face as your lips crashed into hers.

The kiss was fierce, almost desperate. Her hands slid into your hair as your fingers gripped her red and blue training top. You pull her, moulding your body into hers, completely, wholly, lost in the kiss.

You break away slightly, your eyes inadvertently falling to her bottom lip that was now red and swollen from your kiss. You bite your own lip, loving the slightly dazed look in her eyes. Leaning back into her, you whisper "You better score the next free kick you take" into her smiling lips.

this was inspried by alexia's free kick vs nigeria. hope this was worth the wait <3

・❥・- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[brookediamonds]

who's the cute boy with the white (black) jacket and the thick accent?

Axel Kovačević x fem! reader

Summary: Landing yourself a spot in the Sekai Taikai with Miyagi-Do, you and your teammates are in Barcelona ready to defeat Cobra Kai once and for all but not without challenges and possibly…romance?

Word count: 2k Warnings: None

Part 2

not my gif

You stood next to Robby, hands behind your back slightly bored rocking on your heels as the photographer snapped photos of the team captains.

“You there in the back,” the camera man speaks up. “Show some emotion.”

You turn your head to your left nosely trying to see whom the photographer was referring to when the tallest man stood over you, dressed in sweats, soft brown hair swept up, and a chiseled face for a teenage boy.

He was rather handsome, almost intimidating by the forced closed mouth smile he was asked to put on.

The tall boy caught your curious eyes, and glanced down at you.

You shoot him a small smile before turning your head back to front not catching the blush the crept on the boy’s cheeks after your small gesture.

“Perfect,” the camera man breathes out when he sees stone cold boy finally crack a smile.

“We’re done here,” the man excused the athletes. You let out a sigh of relief, tucking the strands of your hair back behind your ears and stepping away from the swarm of people.

“Miss,” you hear a deep accent approach from behind you, a large hand lightly tugging at your arm.

You turn swiftly coming face to face with the tall pale boy you met gazes with a few seconds ago. You glance down at his hold on your arm, causing him to step back releasing his grip.

“S-Sorry,” he apologizes. “You dropped this.”

He held out a small crescent moon stud that resembled the earrings you put on daily. You gasp when you realize your right earlobe was in fact missing its normal accessory.

“Oh my god!” You exasperate reaching out for the earring. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” he says curtly before walking past you not giving you time to respond. You frown hoping you might be able to introduce yourself but his long strides sent him halfway down a hall.

You see Sam and Robby walk away from the team, leaving you to wonder the aquarium yourself.

Stopping in front of tank of small colorful fishes you smile to yourself admiring the beauty of the fish swimming amongst each other.

You had dreamt of being given this opportunity to show off your skills and fight for a title that could expand your talent and interests and you were finally here. You had made it.

Noticing your bare ear in your reflection of the glass, you fish out your stud from your pocket of your jeans and attempt to place the earring back in.

Unfortunately it was a flat back earring, and while you were able to place the back of earring in, the front was harder to pin point.

You huffed in frustration squinting at your reflection when you noticed another figure in the corner of your eye.

The chiseled boy from earlier stood calmly diagonal from you, tearing his eyes away from your frustrated state, looking at the large tank in front of him.

“Hey,” you take a step towards him slowly. "I'm (Y/n)."

"Axel," he nods barely sparing you a glance.

"Think you could help me put this back in?" You ask holding up the stud, hoping to start a conversation with the quiet boy.

"I- I'm not supposed to speak to opponent," he attempts to excuse himself. You wouldn't let him get away that easy.

"Competition hasn't started. We're not rivals just yet," you tease him playfully.

Your words make him feel at ease, the corners of his lips turning up. Axel takes a few steps towards you until he's toe-toe with you.

“Can’t get the front back in,” you shrug sheepishly holding up the moon. He nods taking the golden jewel out of your small hand and into his large one.

You move your hair to one side revealing the ear that once held the earring. Gently, he tilts your head to the side allowing him to see properly since you were much shorter than him.

You felt butterflies swarm your stomach at his close proximity, his face came so close to yours making sure to place the stud in securely.

"All done," he says removing his hands from the side of your face.

"Thank you," you smile up at him finally taking in his appearance. The blue water surrounding you both reflected in his dark emerald green eyes, pulling you into a trance.

His eyes flickered to the tank next to you, a pink blush cascading across his porcelian skin.

"Pretty isn't it?" You ask turning to the glass filled with sea creatures in front of you.

"Very pretty," Axel agrees twisting to face the aquatic scenery as well. Afraid he might flee again, you take your phone out.

"Do you mind taking me a picture?" You ask.

"Sure," he grins taking ahold of your phone. You stood leaning against the glass lightly, arms crossed behind your back, slightly tilting your head with a smile.

Axel pressed the screen a few times before bringing the device down.

"Do they look okay?" You ask walking up to him to look at the photos.

"Beautiful," he says catching your attention but quickly corrects himself. "T-They're beautiful."

You blush at his statement, about to respond when Sam calls out for you at the end of the tunnel.

"We're heading out," she says waiting patiently for you. You nod at her before turning back to Axel.

"I'll see you later on the mat?" You almost ask as a promise to see each other later.

"I will see you later," he responds sincerely with a genuine smile. You turn to make your way towards your best friend when Axel spoke your name sending your heart fluttering.

"You forgot this," he says handing you your phone making you smack your head.

"Thanks, once again," you laugh embarrassed. He nods shrugging as in no problem before you finally make it to Sam feeling like a giggly school girl.

"What just happened? And who was that?" Sam filled with excitement ambushes you as you both turn the corner.

You sighed dreamily, already thinking back to the small interaction hoping it wasn't the last.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your team was getting their ass kicked. There was some downtime before the next event leaving you and the team to rest and regather yourselves.

Between Robby being distracted by Tory, Hawk and Demetri arguing, and now Mr. Larusso disappearing before the next round had you nervous about this possibly being the last day for your team.

"Voicemail?" You ask as you and Sam make your way to the competition.

"Yeah, I just hope he's okay," she says putting her phone away. You two suddenly hear grunting and the sound of someone sparring.

You and Sam stop in front of the open studio seeing a familiar face standing in a fighting stance with his sensei whom he was practicing with.

"Stop," the older man holds his gloved hand up. "What are you doing wrong?"

Axel looks down at his stance and shrugs confused when his sensei suddenly brings his gloved hand down smacking the boy.

You cock your head back eyes flitting over to Sam who looked just as surprised as you.

"Again," Axel is demanded. When he tries again, he unfortunately fails.

This time his sensei drops his pad angrily, and smacks Axel on his back five times making you hold your breath as you reach out to Sam, scared.

Axel who was slumped over waiting for the beating to be over, glances up making brief eye contact with you.

Before you can interject, Sam hurriedly pulls you by the wrist to get you two out of there.

"Should we go back and make sure he's okay?" You ask worriedly as you both sped walked to your team.

"Something tells me he's used to it," Sam spoke uneasily. "We're running late, maybe we can talk to him later."

You nod in agreement, Johnny was going to be pissed it took you all so long to get here.

You would find Axel later.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After winning your last two events and not being eliminated, the team decided to celebrate and relax by going out to a bar nearby.

You hung out with Sam and Robby for about half an hour until you got bored of the scenery and decided to take a walk by yourself to get some air.

Unclasping your sandals, you remove them before stepping into the cool sand and walking along the water.

The smell of the salt air placed a feeling of ease in you, the sound of the waves crashing music to your ears. A shiver runs down your spine as the breeze gets a little stronger making you regret not bringing a jacket.

As you walked further down the shore, you noticed a tall man moving with grace in the sand just a few feet from you.

It was Axel. And he was shirtless. You gulped attempting to keep your cool.

"Hey!" You call out to him. He jumped mid move startled by your presence, but relaxed once he realized it was you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, I was just getting some air," you explain.

"It's fine," he reassures you, wanting to go back to his routine.

"It's pretty late to be training isn't it?" You ask walking closer to him.

"Always time for training," he responds before bending down away from you to pick up his shirt and jacket off the sand.

You gasped as he stood up, noticing the pink and purple bruises down his back.

"Axel, your back," you want to reach out but hold yourself back incase you're overstepping. "What happened?"

The tall boy throws his muscle shirt over his head, not meeting your eyes.

"Uh, from bo staff competition," he lies stuttering his words. You narrowed your eyes at him not buying his story.

"Nobody's been able to land a point on you yet," you point out. You had been watching him the entire competition, he was unstoppable and a damn good fighter.

He looks at you at a loss for words, avoiding your sympathetic gaze.

"I saw what happened with your sensei earlier," you spoke quietly. Axel looked defeated, and tired it made you want to just hug and hold him.

"My sensei wants me to be the best," he attempts to justify. "It is because of him, I never lose."

You nod moving closer to him.

"There are other ways of teaching," you shrug. "I mean, I gotta admit your dojo's pretty great."

"Thank you," he finally cracks a smile making me feel warm inside. "You're pretty."

You blush at his statement before he corrects himself. "Your dojo's pretty good too."

"We try," you chuckle.

You walk a step past him before looking back at him.

"Do you want to practice some more or join me for a tiring walk back to the hotel?" You ask jokingly.

He squeezes his black jacket in his hands before moving along with you.

"I'd love to join you," he grins. The wind blows through your white sundress making your teeth slightly chatter catching Axel's attention.

As you wrap your arms around yourself, you suddenly feel something drape around your shoulders. You realize Axel had given you his jacket.

"Thank you," you breathe out slipping your arms through the sleeves. He smiles down at you.

"So you've been watching me?" He spoke as you continued to walk down the sand.

You let out a little laugh, your face turning red from embarrassment.

"I've been watching you too," he says. "You're an amazing fighter, very graceful."

You're taken aback by his words, it meant a lot coming from him. You both stop in your place, facing one another.

"Really?" You ask hoping he wasn't messing with you.

He nods reaching his hand out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear carefully.

Your breathing picked up, nerves running over your body as he brought his hand down your arm and intertwined your hands together.

"Very beautiful as well," he says leaning down slowly. You close your eyes, and stand on your tippy toes to press your lips up against his.

You snake one arm around his neck as he grabbed you by your hips pulling you closer to him. His lips were warm and soft, unhurriedly memorizing the taste of yours.

When you both finally pull apart, Axel is smiling softly down at you, admiring the twinkle in your eyes that shone from the full moon.

"So much for being rivals right?" You joke lazily laying your hands on his chest.

"I think we are passed that," he laughs before leaning down and kissing you again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: part 2? i've never really written parts on tumblr before nor made a masterlist. there's a first for everything i guess. hope y'all liked this!

[meazalykov]

back to pink

alexia putellas x cosmetologist!reader

summary: you persuade ale to change her hairstyle again

love, comfort, fluff

the sun spills into your studio in soft rays, casting a warm glow over the room as you adjust your station, your hands automatically going through the motions of preparing your tools. 

you've always loved the quiet of the afternoons here. it’s your space, your little sanctuary, and today, it feels even more special with alexia sitting in your chair.

she’s been with you for nearly an hour now, scrolling through her phone, the corners of her lips slightly curled upward in that way that tells you she’s thinking of something amusing. 

your heart flutters every time you catch her looking up at you through the mirror, her soft eyes full of a quiet warmth that only you get to see when she’s completely relaxed. 

your relationship has always been like this, full of easy silences and stolen glances that say more than words ever could.

"so," you say, turning to face her with a comb in hand, "what’s the plan for today? keeping it simple, or are we doing something big?"

alexia leans back in the chair, setting her phone aside as she gives you a thoughtful look. 

"i want a change," she says, her voice carrying that familiar mix of playfulness and seriousness that always keeps you on your toes.

"oh, a change? are we talking drastic?" you ask, moving behind her and running your fingers through her hair, admiring how soft it feels under your touch. thanks to you of course.

it’s natural for you now, this closeness between the two of you. she’s always been comfortable with you, ever since that first appointment years ago.

a grin tugs at your lips as a memory surfaces. "how about we go pink again?" you joke, remembering the bold look she had two years ago, right after the two of you first met. 

alexia had come in for a hair appointment, and you’d convinced her—half-jokingly, half-serious—to try something wild. she had agreed to pink, and you had been in awe of how stunning she looked with it. it was also the day she’d asked you out, and the rest, as they say, is history.

alexia tilts her head back, her grin mirroring yours. "you know... i was actually thinking about that."

you blink, pausing mid-comb. "wait, seriously? you want pink again?"

"yeah," she says, completely nonchalant. "it’s been a while, and i think it could be fun."

"alexia," you laugh, shaking your head, "i was kidding! you really want to go pink again?"

"why not?" she shrugs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "you liked it, didn’t you?"

"you looked incredible," you admit, your mind already racing with the logistics of recreating that look. "but are you sure? i mean, it’s... pink."

"i’m sure," she says, her voice unwavering. "besides, it’ll be our little anniversary surprise."

you tilt your head, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. she always has a way of making even the simplest moments feel special, like this isn’t just about her hair but about the memories you’ve shared. 

"okay, pink it is," you say, setting the comb down and grabbing the dye and developer from your station."

but don’t say i didn’t warn you if people start obsessing over it again."

"let them obsess," she chuckles, leaning back in the chair with a content sigh. "i’m used to it by now."

“don’t get cocky!” you joke. 

you start by sectioning her hair with careful precision, your fingers moving with the kind of practiced ease that comes from years of experience. you've always taken pride in your work, but when it’s alexia in your chair, it feels different—like there’s a personal connection to every strand, every detail.

you mix the dye, the vibrant pink color swirling in the bowl as you stir it to the perfect consistency. as you begin applying it to her hair, your mind drifts back to that first time you met her. 

you had known who she was—alexia putellas, the star of barcelona, the captain everyone admired. but sitting in your chair back then, she wasn’t just the footballer the world knew. she was charming, sweet, and surprisingly easy to talk to. 

by the end of the appointment, she had made the first move, asking you to dinner. you had been so flustered, you nearly dropped the hot curling iron.

"remember the first time i did this?" you ask, your voice soft as you work the dye into her hair.

alexia hums in response, her eyes closed as she relaxes under your touch. "how could i forget? i’ve never seen anyone so flustered."

"hey," you protest lightly, "you’re the one who asked me out! i wasn’t expecting it."

"i know," she murmurs, a smile playing on her lips. "but you said yes."

"of course i did," you say, leaning down slightly to press a quick kiss to the top of her head. 

"who could say no to you?"

the dyeing process is methodical, almost therapeutic in its routine. you make sure every section is coated evenly, massaging the color in with gentle hands, knowing exactly how long to let it sit. 

time passes in a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the occasional hum of your tools and the quiet rustle of fabric as alexia shifts in the chair.

when the dye has set, you rinse her hair, feeling the softness return as the pink starts to emerge. it’s vibrant, bold, and so uniquely her. 

once her hair is clean, you blow-dry it with a round brush, giving it volume and soft waves that cascade down her back. 

finally, you step back, admiring your work.

"all done," you say, turning her chair around to face the mirror.

alexia’s eyes widen as she stares at herself in the reflection. she runs her fingers through the pink strands, her smile growing wider with each second. 

"wow..." she breathes, her voice filled with awe. "it’s perfect."

"you’re obsessed," you tease, watching her admire her new look with a gleam in her eye.

"can you blame me?" she grins, twisting a curl around her finger. "it’s brighter than last time."

before you can say anything more, the door to your studio swings open, and you hear familiar voices fill the room. 

mapi and ingrid stroll in, their conversation cutting off the second they see alexia.

"what the—" mapi gasps, her eyes immediately zeroing in on alexia’s hair. "are you serious? you did it again?"

ingrid steps closer, her face lighting up with admiration. 

"you look amazing," she says, her voice soft with awe. "the pink is perfect on you."

alexia laughs, clearly enjoying the reaction. "thanks," she says, running a hand through her hair, showing it off. 

"but it’s a secret. you can’t tell anyone on the team yet."

"oh, we won’t," mapi grins, her eyes flicking to you with a mischievous glint. 

"but i have to say, y/n you outdid yourself this time."

"what can i say? she’s got good taste," you reply with a wink, though you feel a surge of pride at their compliments.

alexia chuckles, still gazing at herself in the mirror, clearly enamored with the pink. "i love it," 

she murmurs, her voice softening as she turns to look at you. "thank you, amor."

you step closer, your heart fluttering at the affectionate term. "always happy to help," you say, reaching out to smooth a stray curl behind her ear. 

"but seriously, you look incredible."

she stands up from the chair, taking a moment to admire her reflection one last time before turning back to you. "you’re incredible," she murmurs, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "and now... i can’t wait for our anniversary. this is going to be a surprise no one sees coming."

you smile against her lips, your heart full. "i can't wait either." 

my masterlist is here if you want to read more!

[museanddream]

One Night - part 2 || Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze x Reader

Summary: When you complete a dream transfer to Barcelona, there’s only one problem - you have to learn to coexist with your ex-hookup and her new girlfriend.

Warnings: 🔞 | fingering, oral sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, degrading language

Word count: 3.8k

Part 2 / ?

part 1 here

Instead of going straight in for the kiss when Ona asks you for it, you continue to take your time, savouring the moment. One of your hands, previously running up and down Ona’s thighs, rises to her head, tracing the back of your fingers against her cheek before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and cupping her jaw.

Ona’s eyelids are heavy with want now, her lips slightly parted in anticipation of a kiss, while you think you can feel the way she’s putting all her effort into not rutting her hips against your lap.

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper into the space between your lips. “I’ve thought about this a lot too. Ever since I joined the team, every time you smiled at me, every time you helped me, there’s been a part of me that wondered what it’d be like to have you.”

You’re acutely aware of Lucy’s presence on the other side of the room, but you’re not fazed by making the admission in front of her.

“In fact, if I knew you wanted this too, I would’ve made sure it happened a lot sooner.”

Ona’s eyelashes flutter and you can hear the shaky breath she lets out, before uttering again, “Please.”

You’ve never heard Ona sound like that, a slight whimper in her voice. You want to hear it over and over again.

As your lips meet Ona’s for the first time, there’s a brief moment of panic when you realise that you’re kissing someone in front of their girlfriend, then all that washes away as you realise that you’re kissing Ona.

Her lips are impossibly soft. Softer than they have any right to be. You almost lose yourself right there, if not for the tiny voice in the back of your mind telling you to enjoy this and do it right.

There’ll be time to lose control later.

As it is, your hand tightens slightly against Ona’s jaw, fingers toying with the soft baby hairs at the nape of her neck while your lips coax Ona’s mouth open. She’s pliant against you and when you swipe your tongue into her mouth a second later, you swallow the soft moan that escapes her throat.

Your other hand, resting fairly innocently on Ona’s upper thigh, slides back to cup her ass. Her hands, draped over your shoulders, respond by cupping your face and deepening the kiss, the wet slide of her tongue against yours eliciting a gasp from you.

You squeeze her ass through her shorts in an attempt to get her closer and the result is that she grinds down into your lap. But the problem isn’t that Ona isn’t close enough, it’s the layers of clothing in your way.

Breaking the kiss, you move both hands to Ona’s waist and start to lift the hem of her shirt. Ona is only too happy to help, tugging her t-shirt over her head in record time and flinging it behind her with very little care for where it actually ends up.

Chuckling at her eagerness, though pleased with the ego boost it gives you, you stroke a hand down her cheek and say, “You’re desperate for this, aren’t you? Does Lucy not give you enough attention?” You pause, wondering how hard you can push this, then decide to go for it anyway. “Does she not fuck you well enough?”

“Watch it,” Lucy warns you from the other side of the room.

You drag your gaze across to Lucy for the first time since Ona sat in your lap and challenge her with your eyes.

“Or what?”

You know from personal experience just how much fun it can be to wind Lucy up, what kind of dominant mood she gets in when her buttons are pushed in the bedroom. It’s the competitiveness in her, she likes to win everything and doesn’t like it when she’s not in control.

So you know exactly what you’re doing by questioning her sexual prowess, the kind of reaction you’re hoping it’ll provoke from her later. You’re just banking on the fact that she loves her girlfriend enough to wait until after Ona has gotten at least a little bit of what she wants from you before Lucy decides she has a point to prove.

“You’re talking a lot for somebody who’s barely even touched Ona yet,” Lucy challenges you right back.

And if Lucy wants to play it like that, then so be it.

“I am touching her, though,” you point out, as your fingers drop to the button on the front of Ona’s shorts to deftly pop it open.

You scratch your nails lightly against Ona’s abs and she twitches away from the touch when you pass over a ticklish spot. When your hand reaches the waistband of her underwear where her shorts now hang open, you pause.

“Can I?”

“Sí,” Ona answers breathlessly.

You don’t need further encouragement. Your fingers dip past the elastic and lower still as you touch her for the first time.

“Oh,” you say, as your fingers encounter the abundant wetness between Ona’s legs. You could tell that she was turned on, but didn’t expect her to be quite so wet already. “Who’s all this for? Who gets you this wet? Me or Lucy?”

Distracted by your fingertips, Ona starts slowly rocking her hips in an effort to get some friction and you’re just about to prompt her again for an answer when she lets out a breathy, “You.”

You reward Ona briefly by brushing against her clit, but then withdraw your hand from her underwear completely. Making deliberate eye contact with Lucy past Ona’s shoulder, you bring your shiny fingers to your lips and make an exaggerated show of licking them clean of Ona’s slick.

Lucy’s jaw clenches as she struggles not to say something but you can tell from the look in her eyes that she’s turned on as much as she might be jealous.

You’ll feel her wrath later, you’re sure of it, but instead of letting yourself get too excited about that, you turn your attention back to Ona.

Stroking the back of your fingers, sticky now with the remnants of your saliva, down Ona’s cheek, you ask, “Show me to your bedroom?”

Ona gives you a look like she’s about to beg you to fuck her right here on the couch and to be honest, if she asked you to then you’d do just that, but then she slides off your lap and reaches for your hand to help you to your feet.

She starts to lead you towards the door but you use your joined hands to pull her close, drawing her in for another kiss.

It starts out as a performance for Lucy, your hand sliding down the back of Ona’s shorts and your teeth catching her lower lip to draw out a gasp, but Ona’s free hand claws at your waist and her tongue swipes into your mouth and suddenly Ona is all you can think about.

She clings to you like she needs you to survive, like she might melt away without you there to ground her, but you’re having a pretty tough time keeping yourself present too. Ona is just everything and everywhere, fingers digging into your sides, tongue sliding against yours, the soft noises that escape from her lips between kisses rushing straight to your brain like a drug.

Maybe it’s for the best that Lucy seems happy to simply spectate for now. You might lose your mind completely when she eventually decides to join in.

“Bedroom?” you mumble against Ona’s lips.

“This way,” Ona answers breathlessly.

She leads you down the hall, pretty much dragging you through the door into the bedroom, only letting go of your hand so that she can sit on the edge of the bed and look up and you pleadingly with those big eyes.

You aren’t sure if Lucy is following until you hear soft footsteps right behind you, which gives you just a split second warning for the strong hand that grabs you by the neck and pushes you into the wall, fingers wrapped around your throat just tightly enough to assert control.

Lucy doesn’t speak but the message is clear in her eyes. Remember who she belongs to.

And then Lucy leans in, kissing you suddenly.

It’s immediately more intense than the kisses you exchanged with Ona. Lucy doesn’t do anything half-heartedly and kissing is no different. With a point to prove, she catches your lower lip between her teeth until you’re gasping, then swipes her tongue into your mouth, her grip tightening slightly around your throat. It’s not enough to choke you, but just enough to remind you of her strength and attempt to assert her dominance over you before you fuck her girlfriend.

With Lucy’s lips on yours, you’re immediately taken back several years. The kiss is so familiar, so Lucy. The way her mouth glides against yours, the way her tongue plunders your mouth and makes you weak at the knees, is a reminder of all the reasons why it worked between you all those years ago, but also why it didn’t.

You were both too passionate, too competitive, too stubborn when it came to admitting you were wrong, for it to ever work as anything more than friends with benefits. Of course, that all translated into some pretty damn good sex, the likes of which you’ve never quite been able to match with any of the girls you’ve been with since Lucy.

Then there’s Ona. Just as passionate, just as competitive, but with a softer edge. She matches Lucy’s playful side but also complements Lucy’s stubbornness with pure affection. Their hearteyes in training sometimes makes you nauseous but now, having been kissed by them both in such quick succession, you think you understand exactly why their relationship works, exactly why they’re so head over heels in love with each other.

And you’re starting to understand where you fit into all this. You’ll do anything for Ona if she pleads and flashes those beautiful brown eyes at you, you’ll challenge Lucy where Ona might just submit willingly. Lucy and Ona may be perfect for each other but there’s a place for you too, even if it’s only for one night.

Maybe what you and Lucy were missing all those years ago was Ona.

“Go on then,” Lucy says, relinquishing her grip around your throat and giving you a little nudge towards the bed where Ona is patiently waiting. “Show her what you’ve got.”

Ona has kicked off her shorts fully now and lies on the bed in just her underwear, legs bent at the knees and slightly parted as she props her weight up on her elbows behind her. The lust in her eyes from watching Lucy kiss you is obvious and acts as an invitation that you can’t turn down.

Crawling onto the bed, you tug your own t-shirt over your head. Your eyes rove down her body, taking in the lean muscles, the freckles that decorate every inch of skin, the way that her knees widen to allow you to settle between her legs.

“Beautiful,” you tell her.

Ona breaks eye contact, blushing under your praise.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” you tease her, covering her body with your own and placing your palms flat on the mattress on either side of her head to hold your weight above her. “Not when we’re just getting started.”

Ona’s hand comes up to your now bare waist, fingers digging into your side as you lean down to kiss her again. The hot slide of your tongue against hers draws a gasp from Ona and she hooks an eager leg around your hip, trying to draw you even closer. You allow it, adjusting your position so that one of your thighs makes contact with Ona’s clothed pussy, letting her grind against the muscle of your leg, pressed so tightly together that you can feel how wet she is through the thin cotton of her underwear.

Breaking the kiss but continuing to rock slowly against her, you ask, “You’ve wanted this for a while, yes?”

Ona nods, then says, “Sí.” You feel the hot puff of breath as she exhales against your face.

“What do you want? Tell me.”

“You. This.”

“Just this?” you ask, already knowing the answer. “Be more specific. Tell me exactly what you want.”

Ona doesn’t tell you, but she does reach for your hand, wrapping her fingers around your wrist and guiding you between her legs. You adjust slightly to give yourself enough room to slip your hand past the waistband of her underwear, and though you’ve already touched her here once, you still sigh in delight at the wetness that immediately coats your fingertips.

“Like this?” you ask her, exploring without any real purpose, though the little gasp that Ona lets out when you brush across her clit sends a jolting reminder of your own arousal between your legs.

“Yes,” Ona encourages you. “And…”

She trails off, head falling back against the pillow and eyes shut in bliss. When she doesn’t continue, you pause the exploration of your fingers, needing to know what else she was going to say.

“And what?”

Ona’s eyelashes flutter open and she holds your gaze for a few long seconds, before she tilts her head to the side in embarrassment as she murmurs, “And … inside.”

You withdraw your hand entirely, though only so you can sit back on your feet and pull Ona’s underwear down her legs. She helps you, bringing her legs up closer to her chest and kicking them away when it gets caught around one of her ankles, until her lower half is completely bare for you.

“Spread your legs for me,” you instruct Ona. Remembering that Lucy is in the room too, you add, “Show Lucy how wet you are.”

Ona pushes her knees outwards to obey your instructions and you admire her glistening folds, hardly able to believe that Ona is this turned on, mostly because of you.

You glance across at Lucy for her reaction. She’s settled herself comfortably into the chair in the corner and seems content to stay there for the perfect view while you fuck her girlfriend.

“Please,” Ona whines, drawing your attention back to her.

It’s an ego boost to have Ona begging for you already, and almost as much of a turn-on to hear the way that Lucy speaks up from behind you again and says, “Desperate little slut. Go on, fuck her before she actually explodes.”

The last bit is directed at you and while a part of you doesn’t like that Lucy already thinks she can tell you what to do, especially when you’re the one who has got her girlfriend pleading to be touched, your own interest in giving Ona what she wants wins out over any desire to chat back to Lucy.

You settle between Ona’s legs, taking your time to get comfortable as you lift her legs over your shoulders so you can wrap your arms around her strong thighs. She’s pliant under your touch, letting you easily coax her into position, and you reward her by forgoing the teasing, leaning straight in to lick one long stroke of your tongue through her folds from bottom to top.

Her hips buck off the bed and you link your hands together across her stomach to hold her down as you wrap your lips around her clit. You flutter your tongue against her, showing off for Ona at first, but when she jerks against your grip and lets out another throaty groan, you repeat the motion for Lucy’s benefit this time, pleased with the reactions you’re able to draw from her girlfriend.

Ona tastes divine. The sounds that ripple from her throat are as sweet as honey. If you could stay here, between her legs forever, then you would.

Exploring her slowly, you take note of the things that pull the best reactions from her, but not yet committing to any kind of meaningful rhythm. You’re happy to savour each moan, each jerk of her hips, without wanting to rush her towards any kind of climax.

You’re so caught up in the taste of Ona on your tongue that you almost forget about the other person in the room until Lucy speaks up.

“Are you inside her yet?” Lucy asks. “She likes to feel full. She’ll come quickly like that.”

You’d been quite content exploring Ona at your own pace as you discover what she likes and your instinct is to point that out to Lucy. But then one of Ona’s hands finds the back of your head, urging you to give her more.

And Ona’s pleasure is more important than scoring points against Lucy.

You move your head enough to give yourself the space to bring a hand into the mix. Ona whines at the momentary loss of contact, blunt nails clawing at your scalp, but that whine slips into a filthy groan when she feels your fingertips probe at her entrance.

“Sí,” she rasps. “Inside.”

You push inside with one finger, sliding in easily from how wet Ona is. She responds straight away with another moan and you only give her a few thrusts to adjust before you’re adding a second, eager to test Lucy’s comment about Ona liking to feel full. Sure enough, her hips buck up into your hand, so you use the other one, still splayed across Ona’s lower abdomen, to hold her down as you start working your tongue against her clit again.

“Fuck,” Ona exhales, flinging an arm across her face as she tries to writhe against you, then lets out a string of Catalan that you don’t understand, but you’re pretty sure you can still grasp the general meaning of.

“Does she feel good?” Lucy’s voice, somehow even deeper than usual, rasps from behind you.

You curl your fingers on the next thrust, drawing another broken groan from Ona’s throat.

“Sí,” Ona chokes out in response to her girlfriend’s question.

“How good?” Lucy asks. “Tell us. Tell her.”

You smile against Ona’s clit, mostly at how familiar this all feels. Lucy was exactly the same when you were sleeping with her before, never content to simply have the evidence of your arousal coating her fingers or lips, she would always demand for the extra ego boost of making you tell her before she allowed you to come.

“So good,” Ona answers. Her accent sounds thicker to you, her Spanish lilt somehow even more melodic than usual. “Feel so full. Fuck, I think I might come.”

Encouraged by Ona’s confession, and also wanting to show off to Lucy a little bit that you can get her girlfriend off in record time, you double down in your efforts, wrapping your lips around her clit again as your fingers increase their tempo.

“You close, yeah?” Lucy asks.

“Yes,” Ona hisses, her hips bucking in time with your thrusts. “Please, Lucy.”

You curl your fingers against the spot that made Ona writhe earlier, wanting to remind her that it should be your name falling from her lips.

Unexpectedly, Lucy seems to be on your side.

“Oh baby,” she lets out a little laugh. “It’s not me you should be asking.”

As you gaze up Ona’s body, past the ridges of her abs and the pretty flush on her chest and neck, she looks back down at you and your gazes meet. There’s a raw desperation in her eyes, almost like she’s on the verge of tears, like her world might actually end if she isn’t given permission to come in the next ten seconds.

Her hand tightens in your hair, holding you close against her, then Ona lets out a breathy, “Please.”

Continuing to pump your fingers into her, you lift your mouth to ask, “Please what?”

“Want to come,” Ona gasps. “You feel so good. Please let me come.”

You latch your lips around her clit and suckle gently in time with the rhythm of your fingers with one goal in mind. You want her to come, perhaps even more than she wants to come herself, and you can feel that she’s getting close from the way that she’s starting to tighten around your fingers.

“Go on,” you murmur against her. “I know you’re close. Come for me.”

As you return your tongue to her clit and curl your fingers, pulsing your fingertips against that spot inside her, you feel the dam break a split second before it actually does.

Ona comes with a debauched cry that fills the bedroom. With the fingers of one hand inside her, working her through the orgasm, your other hand isn’t strong enough on its own to hold her down. Her back arches, hips lifting off the bed as it wrecks her. You keep your mouth on her, your fingers steadily working her through the peak of it until it ebbs away into pure sensitivity, Ona collapsing spent against the bed as the hand in your hair tries to tug you away.

You press your lips against her inner thigh as you withdraw your fingers, gentle kisses against soft skin as the muscles beneath stop trembling.

After a few moments, Ona’s hand on the back of your head pulls at your hair again, trying to coax you up her body. And enamoured by the sight in front of you, Ona’s skin flushed and sheened with sweat, chest rising and falling as she catches her breath, and a look in her eyes that’s half-softness and half-hunger that tells you she’s still not satisfied with only having you once, you oblige her and crawl up the bed to meet her lips in a languid kiss.

“You good?” you murmur against her mouth, though the way that Ona hums at the taste of herself on your lips and keeps that hand firm in your hair to stop you from pulling away already gives you the answer.

You kiss each other lazily, without the same urgency as before, but far more intimately than you’ve ever kissed a first-time hookup before.

But because it’s Ona, it just feels right.

Ona bends one of her knees and hooks a leg around your hips. The wet smear you immediately feel against your thigh brings you right back into what this is. What you’ve just done, what’s yet to come, and perhaps most significantly, the thrum of arousal that aches between your own legs.

Pulling back from the kiss, though letting one of your hands drop to Ona’s thigh to keep it wrapped around you, you lean your forehead against Ona’s and murmur into the space between you.

“I want to fuck you with a strap. Would that be okay?”

Ona’s breath hitches in her throat, before she answers.

“Please.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Daisychains II

Marta Torrejón x Caroline Graham Hansen x Child!Reader

Summary: It's gardening day

Caro had never really noticed the amount of plants at Marta's house. Well, she knew there were a lot but she had never really noticed just how many there were until she started visiting more regularly.

Usually, Marta would come to hers for dates but with you warming up to her, Caro came to Marta's every week.

She shifts the bouquet to her other hand as she rings the doorbell. There's a shuffle inside for a moment before she notices you peeking out through the curtains and disappearing again.

Marta opens the door and you peer out from behind her legs.

"Hi, Caro," You say, your voice soft and gentle.

You're wearing a pair of overalls and your welly boots. You seem quite overdressed for what is a very hot day in Barcelona but Caro doesn't question it as she hands you the flowers she picked out especially for you.

She brings you flowers every time she visits now and you're always happy to receive them. You do a very impressive job of keeping them all alive for weeks at a time and, honestly, Caro's a bit in awe of how you do it.

"She was very excited to see you today," Marta says as she watches you put the flowers in a vase you'd already prepared.

"Really?"

"Of course, I think you're her favourite person now."

The tips of Caro's ears turn pink as she bashfully looks down. She feels shy all of a sudden. The feeling only deepens as she feels a small hand take hers and looks to the side to see you smiling at her.

You look a little shy too, your hand dwarfed in Caro's.

"Mami," You say to Marta," Can I show Caro my garden?"

Marta laughs, pushing some strands of hair out of your face. "Well, it is gardening day, isn't it? Why don't you show Caro all your plants and I'll fill up your watering can?"

"My frog one?"

"Yes, your frog one."

"Okay." You tug lightly on Caro's hand and guide her out of the back door.

Caro's never been in the garden before but she's not surprised that it's very clearly yours. You've got plant boxes against the fences and a little swing she knows is the same one that Marta sat in to announce your arrival on social media.

It's got little cushions and looks meticulously cared for even though you're now six and it's been there for at least a few years before you were born.

You've got flowers against one of the fences and you pull Caro over to them.

"These are my flowers," You say.

The long box is separated into smaller boxes, each with their own flower in them.

"These are my roses," You say," And these are my tulips. This one's for my orchards. They're still little though so they're still growing."

"They look very nice."

"Mami is helping me," You say, pulling her across the garden to your other plant box," This is for my vegetables. We're growing broccoli and peas because they're healthy!"

It's the most talkative Caro's ever seen you.

You show her every inch of the garden and Caro doesn't even care that the sun is horrifically hot and she could quite possibly get sunburn.

Marta comes out soon after with a frog watering can and helps you water all your plants.

"It's gardening day," Marta explains as she and Caro retreat to the garden swing while you pad around with much smaller plant pots," Every Saturday when we don't have a match."

"She's good," Caro says.

"My parents got her a gardening set when she was three. She's been hooked for years now. All of her books are about plants. She doesn't like storybooks anymore. Just ones about gardening."

Caro sips on her lemonade as she watches you pour soil into an empty pot, watering it liberally before scattering a few seeds in and covering them. You set the pot on the garden table, right in the sun before hurrying off to grab a different pot.

"Clearly they've paid off. I think you might run out of space soon."

Marta groans jokingly. "She asked me for allotment space for her next birthday. What six year old knows that word? Allotment."

Caro joins in with her laughter, setting her drink down as Marta calls for you.

"Conejita! Come have a snack please!"

You huff a little bit, patting the petals of the flower you were pruning before hurrying over.

Marta had brought out carrot sticks earlier and you easily wiggle your way between her and Caro to eat them.

"Conejita grew these all by herself," Marta says as you munch," Didn't you?"

"Mami helped," You say to Caro, nodding earnestly," Do you like them?"

Honestly, Caro doesn't really like carrots at all but she still takes the one you offer her. She nods. "I really like them."

You beam.

"It was mine and Mami's special project," You explain," We had a lot of fun!"

Marta laughs, pulling you into her lap and sticking a floppy straw hat on your head to protect you from the sun. She bounces her knee a few times and you giggle.

"We did have a lot of fun, Conejita. I love growing things with my girl."

"I love growing things with you too, Mami!" You lean into her as you eat your carrot snacks. You suddenly have a thought and sit upright again. "Can I have a special project with you too, Caro?"

"I..." Caro's ears turn red again. "I'd like that."

"Mami, did you hear? I can grow something with Caro!"

"I did hear. It'll have to be next week though so you can have time to decide what you want to grow."

You wiggle around until Marta sets you on your feet and you grab Caro's hand, pulling her inside.

"We can grow flowers!" You decide," I have a book so we can choose! Come on, come on, Caro!"

Caro allowed herself to be led back inside and sat down on the sofa. There are flowers from last week set out on the coffee table and you drag over a big flower encyclopaedia from the shelf.

It looks very heavy but you stubbornly refuse to let Marta help you carry it. She smiles fondly at you as you place it in Caro's lap and begin to look through the pages.

"Conejita," She says as you and Caro debate what flower you're going to grow together," Should I put these away?" She's holding last week's flowers and you quickly shake your head.

"No! Wait, please, Mami!" You take them from her and glance at Caro. "I know they're not daisies," You say," But can you teach me how to make a flower crown with these too?"

You're very lucky because most of Caro's free time has now been taken up learning how to braid flowers together for exactly this moment.

She places the book to the side and hefts you up onto her lap.

"I'd love to."

[n0vazsq]

In love | Hector Fort x Reader

pairing . . . hector fort x barca!femeni!reader

summary . . . When you make eye contact with Hector during one of the practices, you never expected that he'd compliment you

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 2.1k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . so uh i blinked and suddenly there were 2k words?? also ignore how it goes from formal ahh shakespeare english to normal midway <33 hope you like it!!

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @ann6ella ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

part 1 | part 2

. . . You were not one to demand attention.

Quiet and observant, you had spent the first few weeks at FC Barcelona Femení training with a single goal in mind; playing well and blending into the team. It was, after all, your dream opportunity, and you were determined not to squander it.

The others welcomed you kindly enough, encouraging you to open up, but you simply had not yet found your footing amongst the vibrant personalities surrounding you.

It did not help that the men’s team often occupied the adjacent field or sat observing from the sidelines. While your teammates would wave or occasionally chat with the men in passing, you remained distant.

It was not due to shyness, but rather a choice to remain professional. You did not want to appear unserious in a place you had worked so hard to reach.

Still, the presence of the FC Barcelona men’s team was not something one could easily ignore. Hector, in particular, seemed to be an everlasting presence in the area. He was among the younger members of the squad, but there was no mistaking his calm, collected demeanor both on and off the pitch.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed him during those moments of shared closeness. Yet, much like the others, you treated him as an observer and little more.

That particular day of training started off as unremarkable as the others. The sun beat down over the pitches, and your teammates laughed and chatted as you stretched in preparation for the drills.

Your focus remained steady, blocking out the sounds of the men’s team as they arrived to observe. Hector was among them, naturally, along with his teammates who took their seats along the sidelines.

You might have paid them no mind had it not been for the social media team.

"Could we borrow you for a moment?" one of the FC Barcelona media staff called your name, motioning you over.

You hesitated before complying, jogging toward them and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You had avoided the spotlight so far, preferring to build your reputation quietly.

Still, there was no refusing a request that was for a part of your job. The social media staff smiled warmly when you approached.

"We’re doing a quick trend for the socials," one of them explained. "It’s nothing too demanding. Are you okay with that?"

You found yourself relaxing in their presence. "Yeah, that is perfectly fine."

As they prepared their equipment, you exchanged a few quiet jokes with the staff, earning surprised laughter that quickly turned infectious.

Though you were not one to show this side of yourself often, there was something about being in front of a camera in a controlled environment that brought it out.

You participated in their short clip; some trend that needed an enthusiastic and almost dramatic entrance.

It was the first time you allowed yourself to be seen laughing openly, your composure softening as you ran toward the camera with a wide smile.

You had not realized that the men’s team had a perfect view of the entire interaction.

Hector watched, his attention unwavering. The same player who had been so reserved for weeks was now smiling without clear happiness, her voice clear as she joked with the media staff.

He sat up straighter on the bench, exchanging glances with a few of his teammates who were already grinning knowingly.

"So she can speak," Lamine teased quietly, elbowing Hector.

"She’s just quiet." Hector replied defensively, though his gaze remained fixed on you. As you jogged back toward your teammates, you turned your head slightly. For a brief moment, your eyes met his.

Your breath caught in your throat. His expression was unreadable, though his stare was so direct that you felt heat rise to your cheeks. You quickly looked away, pretending to focus on rejoining the team. Hector smirked faintly as he watched you go.

"I think you scared her," Pau said, laughing.

Hector merely shook his head, though he could not deny the amusement he felt. There was something about you that intrigued him, not just the sudden glimpse of your laughter but the fact that you carried yourself so differently from the others.

The training session continued shortly after, with the focus shifting to some practice matches. You pushed any lingering embarrassment out of your mind, focusing instead on the drills.

Playing well had always been your safe zone. It did not matter who was watching or what they were thinking; on the pitch, you were simply you.

As the session progressed, you found yourself fully immersed in the game. The ball came to you cleanly, and your instincts took over. You made precise passes, quick decisions, and strategic runs that left even your teammates impressed.

Unbeknownst to you, Hector and his teammates remained glued to the sidelines, their casual commentary growing louder each time you touched the ball.

"Did you see that?" Marc exclaimed as you cut through two defenders effortlessly before delivering a clean pass to your teammate.

"She’s brilliant," Pedri added.

Hector said nothing, though his gaze remained fixed on you. Every movement you made seemed deliberate, yet natural. You played with a level of skill and composure that he found genuinely impressive.

When you scored a goal near the end of the match, a powerful strike that sent the ball soaring into the top corner, the men erupted on the sidelines.

"Hector, this is your moment!" Gavi shouted, earning a chorus of laughter. Hector shot them a warning look, though the corners of his mouth betrayed a small smile. His teammates, however, were relentless.

"You’ve been watching her this whole time," Pau teased. "Are you going to compliment her or just stare?"

"Mind your own business," Hector replied evenly, though he could feel his face heat ever so slightly. It was true, though. He had been watching you, and he could not deny the admiration he felt for how you carried yourself on the field.

As the match ended and the players left to cool down, you finally allowed yourself to breathe. The session had gone well, and you could feel the satisfaction that came from knowing you had done your best.

You took a seat on the grass, reaching for your water bottle when a shadow fell over you. Looking up, you blinked in surprise to see Hector standing there, his expression as composed as ever.

"You played really well today," he said simply, his voice steady.

You were momentarily caught off guard. Though you had been aware of the men’s team watching from the sidelines, you had not expected any direct interaction, especially not from him.

"Thank you," you replied, managing to keep your tone polite despite the warmth you felt rising to your face. "I appreciate that."

Hector tilted his head slightly, studying you as though he were searching for something unsaid. "Your approach to the game is impressive. I have observed you over the past few weeks, I've never seen such strategy."

You blinked at his unexpected honesty. "I try to focus on improving where I can," you admitted quietly. "There is still much I hope to learn."

He nodded slowly. "That mindset will pay you well." For a moment, there was silence between you, though it was not uncomfortable. Finally, Hector allowed a faint smile to tug at his lips. "You should smile more often. It suits you."

The comment caught you off guard entirely, and you felt your cheeks flush. Before you could form a response, Hector gave you a polite nod before walking away to rejoin his teammates, who were, of course, watching the entire interaction with great interest.

"Oh, he’s definitely in love," Lamine remarked loudly, earning laughter from all around.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head at their behaviour, though you could not stop the small smile that crept onto your face.

From that day onward, something subtle shifted. You were still reserved, but Hector seemed to make a point of acknowledging you when their team was nearby.

Whether it was a simple nod of greeting, a brief conversation, or a lingering glance during training, it did not go unnoticed, by you or by his teammates, who took every opportunity to tease him for it.

As for you, it became harder to deny the quiet flutter in your chest every time your eyes met his. The once distant player from the sidelines was now someone who occupied your thoughts more often than you cared to admit. And though you were still focused on proving

A few days later, as you started gathering your things after another training session, you couldn’t ignore the subtle feeling of being watched. Sure enough, Hector was standing a little way off with the rest of the men’s team, their voices muffled by the distance.

From time to time, one of his teammates nudged him, whispering something that clearly earned a few laughs.

You rolled your eyes to yourself, amused but curious. You were just about to sling your bag over your shoulder when you noticed Hector heading in your direction. Again.

The rest of his team hollered softly behind him, their teasing unmistakable even from across the field. "Just go!" Marc called. Hector waved him off with an exasperated hand, but there was a faint pink tint to his ears as he approached you.

"You again," you teased lightly as he stopped a few steps away. "Should I start charging you for the compliments?"

Hector let out a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’ll consider it, though I might run out of money quickly at this rate."

You blinked, caught slightly off guard by his response, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face. "Flattery will only get you so far, Hector."

"I’ll take my chances," he replied with a grin, his confidence returning now that he’d earned a smile from you. There was a pause, short but heavy enough to hint at something more, before he cleared his throat. "Look, the guys are unbearable when they’re like this, so I might as well ask. Would it be completely out of line if I asked for your number?"

Your eyebrows raised in mock disbelief. "Are they watching right now?"

He sighed, glancing over his shoulder. "Very obviously."

And sure enough, when you looked past him, a few of the guys were pretending to 'stretch,' hands over their mouths as if that would hide their poorly contained laughter.

"You might want to tell them they’re not as subtle as they think." you said, shaking your head in amusement.

"I’m well aware," Hector muttered before returning his focus to you. "So… what do you say? Maybe if I text you, they’ll leave me alone. Consider it an act of mercy."

You tilted your head, pretending to consider it. "I’m not sure I believe that’s the only reason you’re asking."

"Maybe it’s not," he admitted, his voice dropping just a little. "You’re full of surprises. I’m just trying to keep up."

For a moment, you felt your face heat up at the unexpected sincerity of his words. Finally, you sighed with exaggerated reluctance. "Fine. Give me your phone."

Hector’s smile was victorious as he quickly handed it over. You typed in your number and passed it back, shaking your head as you did. "You owe me now, Hector. Don’t let your friends think this was their idea."

"Trust me, I won’t," he said with a quiet laugh, already saving your contact. "But I can’t promise they won’t still claim credit."

"You’re surrounded by instigators," you teased, starting to walk toward the locker rooms.

"I know," he called after you, his grin lingering. "But they’re right about one thing, I’m glad I came over."

You glanced back at him, shaking your head but unable to stop smiling. "Goodbye, Héctor."

"See you soon," he replied, stepping back toward his team, where they were already waiting to pounce on him.

Back with his teammates, Hector was greeted with playful shoves and whistles. "She gave you her number, didn’t she?" Marc asked smugly.

"Yeah, and she didn’t even charge him for it," Lamine added, earning a round of laughter.

Hector ignored them, though the faint smirk on his face gave him away. "You all really need new hobbies," he muttered, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

"Admit it, you’re blushing," Pau teased, leaning in close.

"Sure," Hector replied sarcastically, but even he couldn’t fight the grin threatening to spread. As his friends continued their banter, his mind kept drifting back to you; your teasing smile, your quiet confidence, and the way you’d handed him his phone like you already knew he’d text.

And as far as Hector was concerned, he absolutely would.

[contremineur]

At the very top of the four stone spires which Gaudi left unfinished the light has just begun to bring forth gold inscriptions too pale yet to read. There is no sun. There is only a white silence. Sunday morning.

James Salter, from Am Strande von Tanger

from here

image of Sagrada Família edited from here

[mapiforpresident]

No 23 prompt please with jana and reader both playing from u19 together to Barcelona and Falling in love for first time . R is a huge dork . Thanks.

You're such a dork

Jana x reader

~~~

You were sitting at your desk studying when you heard a slight knock on your office door and you turned your head to see your girlfriend stepping through the doorway with a plate of snacks in her hand. Jana gently set the plate down next to your computer before wrapping her arms around you from behind.

"Hola amor, what are you working on?" Jana asked as you turned your head to give her a kiss.

You smiled as Jana wrapped her arms around you, her warmth soothing the stress that had been building throughout your study session. The way she always seemed to show up at just the right moment made you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

“Hola, mi amor,” you replied softly, turning your head to press another quick kiss to her lips. “I’m just studying for this big history test. I feel like I’m drowning in flash cards.”

Jana chuckled, her fingers gently combing through your hair. “You always say that, but I know you’ll ace it. You’re the biggest dork I know, and I mean that in the best way possible.”

You let out a small laugh, feeling the warmth of her words. “I don’t know about that. I’m pretty sure I’m just making this harder than it has to be. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so I’m glad you came by.”

“Of course, I couldn’t leave you alone to study forever,” Jana said, her voice teasing. “And besides, you deserve a little break.”

She picked up the plate of snacks and held it up in front of you, her eyes twinkling with a playful spark. “I brought you some fuel. You can’t keep working without food. That’s rule number one, right?”

You laughed and took a few of the snacks from the plate, grateful for the small gesture of care. “Thanks, babe. You always know how to make things better.”

Jana leaned down, resting her chin on your shoulder as she watched you nibble on the food. “Well, you’ve been working really hard lately. I wanted to make sure you take care of yourself. But also, I think it’s cute when you’re all stressed out, trying to figure things out like a dork.”

You rolled your eyes, though you were secretly thrilled by the way she teased you. “I’m serious! You don’t get it. I’m juggling so much right now, and I just want everything to go well.”

Jana pulled back slightly, her face turning soft with understanding. “I get it. But hey, you don’t need to do everything by yourself, okay? I’m here for you.”

Your heart swelled at the sincerity in her voice. She was calm, steady, and always made you feel like you weren’t alone in anything.

“I know. I guess I just sometimes feel like I need to be perfect,” you admitted, feeling vulnerable for a moment.

Jana smiled, her fingers gently brushing against your cheek. “Amor, you don’t need to be perfect. I fell in love with the biggest dork I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t change a thing. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you turned to face her, your heart beating a little faster. “I love you, Jana. You know that?”

She laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I know. I love you too, dork.”

The two of you sat together for a while, sharing the plate of snacks and talking about everything and nothing, the way only you two could. It felt like time slowed down whenever you were with her, the world outside disappearing in a blur. In that moment, there was no test, no pressure, just the two of you.

It hadn’t always been like this, of course. You and Jana had known each other for years, since your U19 days at Barcelona. Back then, you were just two teammates on the same field, awkwardly laughing about misplaced passes or a bad goal attempt. You had bonded over your shared love of the game, your goofy personalities, and the way you both always managed to mess up in the most charming ways.

There had been a time when you hadn’t even realized what was growing between you and Jana. At first, it was just easy friendship and a mutual respect for each other’s skills and personalities. But somewhere along the way, that friendship had evolved into something deeper, something more.

The first time you’d caught yourself thinking about Jana outside of the context of football was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. You had been sitting in the locker room after a particularly grueling training session, distracted by the way Jana’s laugh sounded when she talked about the ridiculous prank she and Bruna had pulled on Pina. You had tried to focus on the game analysis in front of you, but all you could hear was Jana’s voice, light and carefree. Mapi had to elbow you before you realized she had asked you a question.

It hadn’t taken long after that for you to realize what was happening. You were falling for one of your best friends.

And that’s when the nervousness set in. You weren’t the kind of person who made the first move. You were awkward, fumbling over your words, and way too much of a dork to figure out the complicated world of relationships. But Jana had picked up on it, and in a way that only she could, she made the first step.

That night, after an intense match, she had pulled you aside in the locker room, her eyes soft but intense. “Y/N,” she had said, her voice low, “I think I like you.”

Your heart had nearly stopped at those words. You had stammered out something about being confused, but she had simply kissed you, gently, without hesitation. It was everything you’d imagined and more, and suddenly, the awkwardness of it all melted away.

After that, things had shifted. You weren’t just teammates anymore, you were partners, both on and off the field. There was a comfort in being with Jana that you couldn’t explain. She made you feel seen, loved, and appreciated for every quirky, dorky thing you did.

And now, sitting in your room, studying for a test that you didn’t feel prepared for, Jana was right there beside you, proving once again that you didn’t have to be perfect.

“Promise me you’ll take a break after this?” Jana asked, her voice soft but serious.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. “I promise.”

Jana kissed you on the forehead, the sweet gesture making your heart swell with affection. “Good, my favorite dork."

You let out a laugh, resting your head on her shoulder. “And you’re my favorite person.”

[pedriache]

No surprises 𖦹 Pedri González !

summary. pedri felt drained, his job sucking the life out of him with every loss —but you, his god given solace, was always there to give him a quiet, loving break.

word count. 1.09k

disclaimers. angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, and happy ending.

bea speaks! fcb when i catch you...

The ride home from the stadium was silent. The hum of the engine and the occasional buzz from either of your phones were the only sounds filling the between you and Pedri. He hadn’t spoken a singular word since you’d left, since the realization that, once again, his efforts had not been enough.

You glance at him, his profile illuminated by the passing street lamps. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips pulled into a thin line. He wasn’t hiding his disappointment, his sunken eyes and tight face only showcasing his exhaustion more. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles growing white.

“Pedri..” you say softly, reaching over to rest your hand on his arm.

He flinches at your touch, but doesn’t pull away. “Not now, cariño.” Pedri murmurs, his voice hoarse.

Leaning back against the seat, you chew on your bottom lip. You wanted to say something, anything, to pull him out of this spiral you knew he was going down—but you knew better. Pedri’s silence was his own way of holding himself together, insuring he wouldn’t break the moment he let himself express his hurt.

This wasn’t even the first time you’d seen him like this. Losing wan’t foreign to Barcelona. Not to mention the string of loses this season alone and the endless criticism from the fans and media. He bore the crushing weight of carrying the team that seemed to feel more broken with every match since October. But now, it was wearing him down completely.

When he finally pulled into the driveway of your shared home, Pedri parked, sitting motionless in his seat. He eventually dropped his hands into his lap after shutting off the car, exhaling a shaky breath and your heart broke at the sound.

“Lets go inside.” You urge quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

Silently, Pedri nodded, his movements slow and heavy as he walked beside to you into the house. Once inside, he found the couch, instantly slumping into it and burying his face into his hands.

Eyes softening, you kneel in front of him, prying his hands away. The sight in front of you would’ve made even the strongest man weep. His eyes were glossy, his lashes wet with unshed tears. “Pedri,” you whisper, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, “talk to me, please?”

The dark haired man shook his head, jaw tightening. “What is there to say? Another loss, another fucking failure.”

“You’re not a failure,” you say firmly, eyebrows knitting together.

He lets out a bitter laugh at your words, sending a course of pain through your heart. “Tell that to everyone else. To the fans. To the team, who, by the way, can’t seem to keep it together. Oh, and to the club who expects everything from me.”

Frowning, you cup his face, making him look directly at you. His eyes search yours, desperate and pleading. “You are human, you are allowed to feel this way, but you are not allowed to believe that you are not enough. You are. These loses? They are not on you. They happen, and you can come back from them. You are not the only player on the team, this isn’t your fault.”

He lets out a ragged breath, leaning into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “I’m tired.” He admits, his voice breaking. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. It feels like everything—the team and all, it’s falling apart and I just don’t know how to fix it.”

You are quiet for a second, eyes flickering around his face. He looked dejected, taking all the blame and stuffing it into himself and it is suffocating him.

“You don’t have to fix it alone. You have a team, Pedri. And you also have me. Let me help you carry this, let me be here for you.” Your thumbs graze his cheekbones, like the touch alone could press the words into his brain, forcing him to let it go, and let you in.

Your boyfriends eyes close slowly, a singular tear finally escaping his eyes. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, his voice broken and weary.

Shaking your head, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You deserve everything in the world, baby. And I will always be here to remind you of that.”

For a while, neither of you spoke. His head fell to rest on your shoulder, and you held him like that, hoping the small moment would ground him. And it did, Pedri felt himself calming down. His breaths evened out and his shoulders relaxed.

Inhaling your scent, feeling your soft breaths against him, the way your hand slowly rubbed up and down his back—it made him feel okay for the first time since the loss.

“I scored tonight,” he sighed after the long silence, his voice an octave above a whisper. Despite the achievement, a lingering sense of disappointment was still in his voice.

“I know,” you hum, running your hand up his back to rest on the nape of his neck. “I was a beautiful goal.”

“But it doesn’t matter.”

You could groan.

“Doesn’t matter? It mattered to me.” Your lips form a tight frown. He was so hard on himself. Beating himself up over things that he should be proud of.

“Pedri, you got the man of the match. You were incredible, you always are. You scored a goal and gave your team hope. Sure, you lost. But, you still were amazing and you deserve to feel the pride from it.” Your words felt weak in comparison to how badly you wanted to comfort him, to assure him—but for Pedri, it meant everything.

He looked back to you then, his eyes softening. His heart felt warm, your touch was still warm, you were always the one there for him—comforting him. He loved you for it.

The burdening weight on his chest seemed to finally lift, if only slightly. “Thank you,” he murmured, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair from your face. “I love you.”

A smile lifts on your lips and your forehead rests against his. “Of course, and I love you.”

As the night wore on, and you were finally in bed together, you were his grounding point. The weight of your head on his shoulder, your legs tangled in his and your arms wrapped around him, it kept him comforted. In the quiet of the bedroom, you were his solace, always.

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pedri posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @joaoflms @sakashq @h4vertzz @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl @unx100to @st4rgirl-ellie @cececarmona17

[i2ycat]

Trouble is a Band

synopsis being in a band was all you ever wanted, and so when you were able to fly across the globe to join your brother’s high school band, you jumped at the opportunity to show everyone everything that you’ve got. singing in a band? check. performing in front of a crowd? check. falling in love with your brother’s best friend, who is in a complicated relationship with one of your fellow bandmates? check?

pairing park jongseong x fem!reader genre high school!au, kind of band!au, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, brothers best friend trope, slow burn-ish? word count 7.5k warnings implied sexual relationships (there’s no smut), kind of an implied fwb situation, liking someone who is taken(??), mentions of toxic relationships, bitchy character lol, cursing, kissing, nicknames (princess, baby), semi-proofread, lmk if i missed anything else lyn speaking i’ve been writing this for like 2 months and even lost sleep over this, the real ones know ☝🏻 idk why but this was much harder to write compared to my heeseung one… and this is not my best work, wouldn’t say i’m entirely proud of this i’m ngl so i won’t be too surprised if this flops </3 also this got me thinking ab jay and guitars wayyyy too much main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

“Are the schools here always up a damn hill?” You heave out an exasperated pant, your legs burning from the early morning cardio you definitely weren’t prepared for, or even expecting for that matter.

The summer sun is so unforgiving that in under ten minutes, you’ve become such a sweaty mess that you’re furiously sweating from every possible angle; your uniform practically drenched from your back and underarm areas. A layer of perspiration sheens the expanse of your forehead and it results in you resembling something the likes of Abby from Chicken Little as individual strands of hair stuck to it like glue.

You look over at an unbothered Jake with his hair still perfectly intact and looking as if he had just walked out of Vogue magazine. You scoff at this.

The only things you and Jake had in common were having the same last names, a slight similarity in facial structures, and maybe a shared interest in band music but that was about it. You’ve had totally different upbringings up until now, with you having lived in France while he was in Australia, and soon after, in Sokor. You were apart for most of your childhood, only seeing each other for vacations and special occasions, like that one time Aunt Jung had her outdoor wedding in Barcelona and you’d met Jake and your mother at the airport out of pure coincidence.

But despite the distance, it didn’t deter the both of you from being as close as you guys are, still making the effort to talk almost every day, even if you were drained from school. You remembered nights when you would call up Jake just to rant to him about boys — yes, multiple — you were talking to while he ate lunch on the other side of the world.

However, other than just being brought up differently, you guys were total opposites. If Jake was known to be the golden retriever with his high energy, bright smiles, and friendly dispositions, then you would be considered the chihuahua — closed-off and somewhat sarcastic. You didn’t have a social circle as expansive as Jake's because you liked to be alone. People have always told you that you had this brooding aura about you, and you could never tell if they were complimenting or insulting you.

“You get used to it,” Jake simply shrugs, adjusting the straps of his bag in a manner that did not mirror yours in any capacity. It was ridiculous how not even a single drop of sweat was in sight. “Now hurry it up! If we walk any slower, we might actually be late.” He drags you by the arm, to which you inwardly groan, already regretting the fact that you transferred to a pseudo-gym of a school in the dead of summer.

—

Transferring to an entirely different school system definitely posed itself as an inevitable challenge at first, but even then, half a day passed you by uncharacteristically fast. It might have been because you were sleeping through the majority of your morning classes, unable to totally grasp or get used to your supposed mother tongue just yet, that made time pass seemingly faster.

That, coupled with the fact you never functioned properly in the morning in the first place thanks to your night owl tendencies.

You’d spent most of your life conversing in either English or French, rendering your skills in your own mother tongue to an intermediate level at best. You could, at the very least, listen and understand it to a certain degree but not speak it as well as Jake does. You were only able to communicate with simple sentences and the few swear words and phrases your father used whenever he was lecturing you.

A day before your flight back home, you’d even attempted to touch up on your language skills with the help of your father and a facetimed version of your brother and mother, but it was already too late then. You were a lost cause. You definitely don’t blame your parents for your inability to speak the language, but rather, you blame your own lack of enthusiasm to learn it on your own in the first place.

“Y/n, right?” You rub the sleepiness from your eyes away as your gaze averts to the girl standing in front of your desk. She, with her neatly braided hair and black rims, sported a welcoming smile that gave you the impression of a class president. Maybe she was; you haven’t been paying attention to anything the teacher said since this morning.

You slowly nod, “Yeah, I am.”

“I’m Mia, the class vice president.” Okay, so your guess wasn’t entirely off the mark. You were only missing a word.

“Hi.” You purse your lips into a tight-lipped smile, unknowing of what to say next and silently wishing that your brother would come get you faster. Why did his classroom have to be so far from yours? Did the administration really think you could handle all this on your own?

In the painful silence, you were sure that this Mia girl could sense the awkwardness radiating from you with the way she’s trying so hard to keep the conversation afloat, probably thinking that you’re an introvert that doesn’t like approaching people first — which if it was any other day she would’ve be right on the money on but all you wanted right now was to be left alone to your own thoughts. You were still suffering from jet lag and time differences, and those two combined ran your social battery dry.

“Where’d you transfer from?”

“France.”

“You’re french?”

“No, I just moved there really young.”

“I see,” she said, nodding her head as if she were deep in thought. “I’ve always wanted to go to France.”

“It’s nice there.”

“So, can you speak-”

Before she can even finish her question, a blaring bang coming from the front door reverberates in your almost empty homeroom, save for yourself, Mia, and a group of friends in the back with their homemade lunches. You almost dropped to your knees to thank the heavens for hearing your prayers as you watched your brother's figure stand there, taking a moment to catch his breath as if he’d just finished running a marathon.

“Hey, Jake!” You damn near winced at Mia’s drastic change of voices in your brother’s presence. You were sure she had a deeper voice just a few seconds earlier, even having the same mezzo tone as you do. It definitely raised a few brows, but you weren’t the type to judge people too quickly, and you didn’t want to think that about such a sweet-looking girl.

Maybe she just had a crush on your brother; whatever it was, your senses were telling you that they were currently not in favour of Mia’s presence.

"Oh, hey, Mi. I see you’ve met my sister.” Jake acknowledges her before turning to you and saying, “Come on, we've got to go meet the others.” He beckons you towards him with a nod of his head, to which you happily oblige, just thankful that you don’t need to go through the rest of lunch with any more of Mia’s interrogation-style questioning.

You follow your brother after handing Mia a terse goodbye, attempting to at least have an amiable smile on your face in the process.

Even if Mia had more things she wanted to ask you, she put them aside on the backburner for a later date. Instead, opting to just wave you and Jake off with the same friendly grin she always has on.

When you’re out of earshot, making quick work to slide the door close behind you, you make your way beside Jake in quick strides. “You know her?”

“Obviously. Why?”

“Nothing.” You shrug the feelings of uncertainty off, not having the energy to try and dig anything up on the first day of school. “You said we’re meeting the others?”

“Yeah, my friends, you’ve seen them. They heard you were transferring here and really wanted to meet you.”

From the number of times you’ve called Jake during his school hours, you were bound to interact with a few of his friends, mainly the three youngest of the group: Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki. There would even be times he’d leave you alone with his friends while he went for a toilet break, and when he’d come back, you'd already be three months into the storyline with your then-current situationship.

You were obviously excited to finally meet them after only having talked to them via Jake’s phone. Throughout the four years, you’d like to think that you’ve created a connection with some of the boys, given that they already know so much about your life and you know theirs. The older ones, not so much, despite being much closer in age ranges.

Out of the four oldest, you’ve only managed to properly talk to Sunghoon. It was when you were on call crying to your brother about the fourth boy of the month, and Sunghoon just so happened to be going home with Jake that day. He’d eavesdropped on your conversation and offered you some advice, explaining that he had a sister of his own, as if that gave him the certification needed to meddle in your affairs.

You didn’t even know he was with Jake, let alone hearing you bawl your eyes out, blowing into copious amounts of tissues included, until he started going off about how boys are scary and that you shouldn’t trust them so easily. It startled you, almost making you scream, but you were grateful for his brotherly advice either way.

When the two of you finally make it towards the other end of the sixth floor, Jake slides the door to his homeroom open, and you’re immediately greeted with the view of six boys scattered around the empty classroom, a few having acoustic guitars and drumsticks in hand. This may sound cringy, but it reminded you of that one scene from Lemonade Mouth, where everyone was in the detention room and just communicating through the music. Except you weren’t in a detention room, and instead of singing, mindless chatter filled the space.

You’ve always daydreamed about being in a band, even going as far as attempting to create one of your own, but keyword: attempt. You obviously failed at doing so in your previous school because nobody likes being in bands nowadays, and your brother, knowing this, instantly jumped at the idea of adding you as their newest member.

He’d already gone through the logistics a week before you even officially transferred, coercing everyone in the band to agree to your addition, but truth be told, it didn’t even take that much toiling since everyone was just excited to finally meet you, and they'd already heard about how talented you are thanks to Jake’s endless bragging.

“She’s here!” Jake announces, prompting everyone to halt whatever it was they were doing and immediately jump at the sight of you gracing their homeroom entryway.

“Y/n!” Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki are the first ones to capture you in a big embrace, effectively squishing you under their hold. Is this what people feel when they finally meet an online friend?

The mixture of fulfilment and excitement bubbling inside you was hard to maintain levelled, spilling out of you in the form of a grin that extended from ear to ear. You considered these three your babies at this point, wanting to spoil and shower them with as much love and affection as an actual mother would. It didn’t matter if you were only a few months older than them, that’s wasn’t the point.

When you’re released from their embrace, you can finally see the rest standing there with a cordial expression plastered over their features. You must admit, you’ve always thought that Jake’s friends were all attractive and had a relative charm to them, but it’s even more apparent now that you’ve met them in real life. With their tall stature and undeniable talent, you could only imagine the long line of girls waiting for them.

As you start to scan the boys one by one, you catch yourself gravitating towards Jay. He’s donning the school uniform, the same exact ones that the rest are, but he makes it so uniquely his by unbuttoning it to show the black shirt underneath and cuffing the sleeves until it reaches his forearms.

From the plethora of Instagram stories you’ve seen about Jay, you knew that Jay was into fashion and occasionally designed the outfits the guys wore onto stage. And as a fashion guru yourself, you applauded his impeccable style, finding yourself in constant awe of the effortless aura and innate ability for fashion that he possessed.

It also didn’t help that he was totally up your alley in terms of physical attractiveness. The others were pretty and charming in their own way, yes, but Jay had you hooked the moment Jake posted that photo of him fresh out of the beach, with tan skin and wet hair, looking like a damn Greek god.

Did you mention that you’ve also watched an unhealthy amount of videos of Jay playing the guitar? Because you have and it made getting attracted to him so much easier. Even through the screen, you could just tell that he was in his element, like he was born to perform as the passion he had for the instrument oozed out. Everything about him was just so mesmerising; you’re sure that you’re not the only one who sees that.

The timeline is blurry but from then on, you’d developed a small, insignificant crush on him, one that you didn’t bother mentioning to your brother because you were scared he would force you to act on it, even when you weren’t sure if you liked him enough to want to date him. You haven’t even properly met the guy at that point.

To you, it was simply an attraction. One that you’d get over in about a month because it’s what you always do.

“Hey, guys.” You wave.

“You’re awfully shorter than I thought you would be.” Riki says this from beside you, silently mocking you for all the times you’ve challenged him about his height.

“Of course you would say that.” You playfully roll your eyes. “You’re obsessed with your height, Riks; we get it.”

"Okay, back off, guys. That’s my little sister you guys are hogging.” Jake shoos the younger boys away with a flick of his hand, to which they dejectedly comply, making way for you to enter further into the classroom. “What was on our agenda again? Right, Y/n’s position in the band.”

“We could use another guitarist.” Sunoo muses, with Jungwon and Sunghoon silently agreeing on the side.

“Nah, we already have Jay and you for that.” Your brother shakes his head. “Wait, speaking of Jay, where’s Jiwon? You said she’d be here when I came back.” At this, all eyes shift towards Jay, who simply shrugs.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t tell me you guys are having a lover's quarrel again.” Heeseung sighs. Your ears immediately perk up at the mention of Jay, Jiwon, and a lover's quarrel in the same sentence. Confusion starts to pervade your stomach.

Huh? When did they start dating? You thought Jiwon was only a close friend.

You’ve only ever heard of Jiwon, not once seeing her face in Jake’s stories or any of the others. All the information you had on her was that she was the same age as you and played the keys for the band. Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki mentioned her once or twice, but it was more of them complaining about her. Other than that, it was as if her existence evaded you completely.

“The third one this month, mind you.” Riki quips.

“It’s only the second week of the month, though.” Jake’s mouth gapes at the fact that his best friend is still willing to go through such a toxic relationship, or whatever it was, even when she limits the people around him until she’s the only one left in his life, when they constantly fight over the smallest things, or even when she encourages him to drop his best friends. He doesn’t understand what’s so good about Jiwon that’s got Jay under her spell, and he doesn’t want to know either.

“Can we just drop it?”

Your brother puts his hands up in defeat and says, “Whatever you say, bro.”

An awkward air of silence starts to permeate the air, and by now, you’re sure someone could cut through the tension with a knife.

You clear your throat before saying, “Is it okay if I’m just a singer?” in an attempt to divert the conversation back to its original agenda, which thankfully works because the others start talking, adding in their own thoughts here and there. And by the time lunch ends, you’re officially set as the band’s lead singer and lyricist.

Finding out about Jay and Jiwon’s relationship made you realise just how little you know about these guys, only having talked to them through FaceTime and watching them live their lives through snippets of Jake’s Instagram.

The warmth and familiarity you were initially met with made you completely forget that you only officially met these guys today. They were all, to some extent, still strangers to you.

—

A few hours of school turned into two weeks, and two weeks into a month. By now, you’ve gotten more than used to everyone’s dynamics and energy, though it was still a little too high for you at times. You were thankful that your brother was there whenever you couldn’t communicate your feelings and thoughts as well as you wanted to, and for the rest for being so understanding.

All of this was a dream come true for you, truly. Ever since your father introduced you to the world of music, you’ve dreamt of being in a band yourself, singing your own songs in front of people, and feeling the music course through you as you stand on the stage.

But no matter how much you wanted to saturate your mind with happier, less confusing thoughts, it always seemed to circle back to the same thing: Jay and Jiwon.

Over the course of a month, you’ve managed to interact with Jiwon on several occasions, each lasting around a minute. They consisted of mostly quick pleasantries, instructions, and the rare ‘how are you’s? She wasn’t cold but not entirely friendly either, which you totally get because it’s not like you were any different.

Throughout the majority of the breaks in between practice sessions, she stuck by Jay’s side, engaging in playful and flirtatious banter that the boys would secretly roll their eyes at. You’d asked your brother why everyone seemed to not like seeing Jay and Jiwon together, but he simply shrugged you off, leaving you with even more questions.

“Hey, Y/n.” You look up from your notebook to see Mia, who you’ve wrongly assumed was a pick-me at first, cheerfully greeting you.

Somewhere along the line, she’d bashfully admitted to you that she liked your brother. It definitely explained the change in personalities and voices whenever he was around, but it didn’t make you want to recoil any less. She was a good-natured girl who hated letting anyone down, so when she asked for a favour from you — one that involved you setting her up with your brother — there was just no way you could decline. If she wanted to date your brother, you would happily aid her in that.

Which brought you to a now-blooming friendship.

“Hi, Mi.” You managed to reciprocate her energy.

“You’re having band practice today, right?” She asks with a tilt of her head, to which you nod. A beat passes before she bites her lip in anticipation. “Is it okay if I come watch?”

From the way her eyes glowed with hope, you could immediately tell that she only had one mission in mind: to see Jake. “You’re not being very discreet with this,” you chuckle, endeared by her amateurish antics. “But, sure. Practice starts at 4.” Hearing this, she immediately clasps her hand into yours, thanking you as if you just saved her entire bloodline.

She leaves you to your own accord not soon after being called by the teacher, “I’ll be there!”

With twenty minutes to spare and no one to spend it with, seeing as your brother was busy with lunch detention and your three babies had a student council meeting to attend to, you decided to make your merry way towards the practice room with your notebook in hand.

Pushing the door open, the view of Jay playing the guitar by the window warmly greets you. You're awestruck by the way he strums the chords so effortlessly, filling your ears with the most beautiful progressions you’ve ever heard, like it was heaven’s sonata. You would’ve loved to just stand there all day and relish in the intimate moment he’s created in the dingy room, but it only takes a few seconds before Jay inevitably notices your figure by the door.

“Y/n?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be here right now.” You take a step back, ready to shut the door close behind you, but before you could move even an inch, Jay refused, instead asking you if you could keep him company. “You want me to stay?”

“I mean, why not?” He pats the space beside him and scoots over.

Your steps are hesitant, somehow alarmed by the prospects of Pandora's box in your heart breaking open the moment you decide to sit next to him. But it was just a simple, friendly act, so what could possibly go wrong here? You push those thoughts away and plop yourself on the cushioned window seat, leaving just enough space between you and him.

“So, why are you here?” He asks you as he carefully sets the guitar back on the floor.

“Everyone else was busy,” You could feel Jay’s intense watch on you, and you couldn’t help but feel the burning sensation on your skin. Just being in his presence alone was already making you feel hot; your cheeks were heating up in the process. “How about you?” You just wanted him to stop looking at you, because you wouldn’t know what to do if he noticed just how he was making you feel.

“Me?” He hums. “I guess I just wanted some peace and quiet.”

“Oh, am I disturbing your peace and quiet? I could leave right now.”

“You don’t have to be so antsy. I’m not going to bite you, ya’know?” He chuckles, clearly amused by your response. “And besides, you’re giving me peace by just being here.”

“I see.” You nod slowly as you bite your lip in an attempt to get a better hold of your nerves. There was absolutely no need to be so nervous around your brother’s best friend.

“I just realised something,”

“What?” You shift in your seat to get a better look at him.

“This is the first time we’ve ever had a one-on-one talk.”

“Yeah, I wonder why.” You retort, and he raises an eyebrow at this.

“What do you mean by that?” His head tilts at an angle, looking at you with those deep-set eyes of his. You can try to deny it all you want, but the skip in your heartbeat is hard to mistake; it’s not a feeling you’re stranger to.

“I don’t know; you never seem to talk with anyone else other than Jiwon during practice, so it’s no wonder we’ve never actually talked before.”

“Wow, you’re sounding a little salty there.” Jay’s lips form a lopsided smirk after noticing the defensive expression that adorned your features. “Nah, I’m just toying with you.” The airy laugh he lets out does little to nothing to soothe the chaos that ensues in your heart and mind.

“For your information, I am not salty. It’s just a bummer that you never really tried forming a closer friendship with anyone else in the band.”

“It’s not that I haven’t tried." He mumbles.

“Sorry?”

He shakes his head and says, “It’s nothing.”

A comfortable silence engulfs the air between both of you before Jay continues, “Hey, since you’re so salty about me not giving you my attention, how about I buy you ice cream tomorrow?”

“First of all, I am not salty. And second of all, it wasn’t that-”

"So, is it a no?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “If you admit that I’m not salty, then maybe I’ll agree to it.”

“You’re not really in the position to be giving me a challenge, seeing as I’m the one offering you free food,” he bites down a simper. “But fine, your highness, I hereby declare you not salty.” He adds a curt bow for the dramatics, and you can’t help but roll your eyes in faux annoyance.

“You’re so annoying.” You huff out.

“If you’re going to be in our band, you’re going to need more tolerance and patience than that.”

You could feel yourself slowly letting your guard down in Jay’s presence. The playful and witty banter he offered you made you feel like you’ve known him longer than you actually do, and it felt nice.

It felt almost too nice to be around him. But like everything else in your life, this feeling too shall pass. He has a girlfriend, for Christ's sake. So you better make sure that it will.

—

With your head resting on your hand, you silently watched the busy street beside you. When you first came to Korea, it was summer, but now that the leaves were starting to turn orange little by little, you could tell that it was nearing your favourite season of the year — autumn. To you, everything felt just a little more romantic under the autumn leaves and the cool breeze that hangs in the air.

“Were you waiting long?” Jay’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you quickly shake your head. “Sorry, Ji wanted me to teach her this riff on the guitar.” He pulls the seat out in front of you to sit, and you take the opportunity to sneak a longing glance at him: tousled hair, swollen lips, an untucked collar. It definitely looked like he did more than just teach her chords, but you bite your tongue.

It was none of your business.

“Did you order already?” He flips through the menu of desserts.

“No, I was going to, but I realised I didn’t know what flavours you liked.”

“Sorry,” He passes you a sheepish smile. “I’m going to go on a whim here and guess that you like Rocky Road.”

You raise an impressed brow. “How’d you know?”

“I just know you like that.”

“We’ve known each other for 3 weeks, Jay.”

“Okay, damn. You really do wound me,” a hand raises to his chest, feigning hurt. “Okay, now you guess what flavour I like.”

You ponder over for a while but decide to just settle on the most basic flavour of all, “Vanilla?” His face visibly falters at your answer; you could almost make out a pout forming on his kiss-bitten lips.

“Wow, I could tell the amount of thought you put into that.” His sarcastic claps boom throughout the modest ice cream parlour, earning him dirty looks from the few customers at the neighbouring tables.

“So you don’t like vanilla?”

He crosses his arms and asks, “What do you think?”

“Ugh, this conversation is going nowhere; go order it yourself.” You groan out, rising on your feet to order on your own.

“Calm down, princess; I’ll go order it.” Before you could protest, he'd already made a beeline for the cashier.

Princess? That was new. Oh, who were you kidding? All of this was fucking new.

A feeling of internal turmoil starts to bubble violently, like a seething kettle waiting to be opened. You hated how he was so nonchalant about everything. And you hated how he unknowingly made you feel things you shouldn’t feel. It felt awfully wrong on so many levels, but this thing was just a friendly gesture, a payback, if you will. There was nothing wrong with hanging out with your brother’s best friend on a Thursday evening, even if you held an underlying attraction for said friend, right?

“Here, one Rocky Road for your highness, and one good ol’ vanilla ice cream for her loyal servant.”

“So you do like vanilla ice cream,” you scoff.

“I never said I didn’t.” He shrugged. “Woah, this might actually be the best vanilla I’ve ever tasted. Try it!” He scoops a chunk out for you to taste, which you politely decline. There was a certain line you didn’t want to cross, no matter how insignificant and innocent the gesture might’ve been. Maybe you were thinking too hard, but it would’ve been weird for you to share an indirect kiss with a taken man, even if he was your brother’s best friend. “Hm, your loss then.”

The both of you remained in silence with the dulcet melodies of Wave to Earth playing in the background, and it served as a pleasant companion to the overly complicated noise in your head, all caused by the boy sitting a few feet from you.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Jay’s voice pulls you out of your own mind, causing you to look up at him expectantly. “You have a really beautiful voice.” His warm smile shoots you in the heart, right where you know it shouldn’t. It was just a simple compliment, one that you’ve heard plenty of times before, yet it sounded so good coming from him. It almost made you want to keep proving yourself to him so you could keep hearing him praise you like that.

“Thank you,” You bite the insides of your cheek as a way to chide yourself. Just why were you so easily affected by everything he says and does?

“I really want you to sing this song I’m writing. I mean, I’m not totally done yet, but I wrote it with your voice in mind. It’s for the upcoming music festival.” He pulls out his phone and earphones from his pocket, sliding his chair closer to yours and offering an earpiece, which you cautiously take.

You straighten your back in an effort to keep yourself focused, not wanting to mind the way his shoulders are pushed up against yours, or the way you could practically make out every single feature on his face, or the fact that you would’ve felt his breath fan against your face if he turned even just a bit to the left. You needed to physically force yourself to focus solely on the music.

Don’t mind the confusion.

The sense of focusing.

The only sure thing is you.

So now, put it all behind.

I’m just going to walk according to how my heart beats.

Fatal trouble.

Jay’s voice fills your ears, alongside Jungwon and Sunghoon’s. You could appreciate their heavenly voices all day, but the striking lyrics seemed to be the main reason for taking your breath away. It sounded as if they were speaking to your troubled thoughts right in the face, slithering around you to tempt you into falling deeper. Deeper into what? You didn’t want to even think about it. 

"So, what do you think?”

“It's... it’s good.”

“That’s it?”

“What did you want me to say?”

“No need to get so feisty, princess.” He ruffles your hair, and you sigh, feeling the overwhelming defeat take over you because, no matter how much you wanted to fight the feeling, you knew that all your efforts would come crashing down anyway.

You were a weak woman with many faults, and being attracted to someone who is so painfully taken is the biggest one of them all.

—

With only a few weeks left until the school’s music festival, it’s no surprise that everyone has been on edge, but particularly so with Jay and Jiwon. Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell they were going through a rough patch in their relationship right now, made apparent by the abnormal amount of distance between them and the lack of flirtatious banter filling the room.

Every practice session was filled with the suffocating tension that made practicing so much more exhausting, and Jake had had enough of it.

“I know you guys are having yet another lover's quarrel, but can you guys quit it? We have a festival coming up, and we can’t afford to have both of your immature asses fucking this up for us.” Your brother’s stern voice shakes the entire room. He was usually never the one to get mad at people, so it felt unusual to see this side of Jake.

“We’re not lovers,” Jiwon retorts as her fingers mindlessly hover over the keys on the keyboard. She tilts her head at Jay and says, “He made very sure of that.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter what the fuck you guys are or not; I just need you guys to keep it civil for the sake of our performance, if not our team.”

“Oh, fuck off. As if you guys have ever even tried keeping it civil with me,” Jiwon seethes, the dark chuckle of complete disbelief she lets out hanging heavy in the air. “Yeah, I see the way you guys roll your eyes at me, and I hear the way you guys bitch about me behind my back too. I’m not fucking blind, Jake.”

You could see the way everyone shifts uncomfortably in their spots, and you can’t help but do so too.

“Quit it, Ji.” Jay’s attempts at getting Jiwon’s rampage to stop proved futile, as it only spurred her on.

“Shut up, Jay. I know the only reason you refuse to make it official is because you started liking your best friend’s little sister over me.” As soon as she dropped the bomb, all eyes darted towards Jay, who only stared at Jiwon. His jaw ticks in what you could only surmise as vexation, with the evidence of it starting to sprawl across his features. “What, baby? Cat got your tongue?” Jiwon sneers.

“Jiwon, if you’re not going to contribute anything to the band, you can just go home.” Sunghoon speaks as he points to the exit.

“I was planning to anyway,” she says, picking up her bag from the floor. “I am so fucking done with this, and you guys are all fucked.” With that, the door behind Jiwon shuts with a deafening bang.

The eight of you remain frozen in your spots with the shock of it all coursing through your veins like a hot iron. You needed a minute or two to even begin to assimilate whatever the fuck just went down.

When she said that Jay liked you over her, she meant it as a friend, right? There’s no way it meant anything more than that, right? Why does he keep confusing you? Why did he have to have your heart right in the palm of his hand? You felt your head start to pound the more you thought about it, and you just wanted to escape from it all.

—

Life since you joined your brother’s band has been everything you’ve ever imagined and more. You were finally able to meet people you called your family; you were able to sing your heart away on stages the way you always wanted to; and you were able to feel alive in a way you couldn’t when you were in France. But it didn’t stop there. You fell in love — a little too hard at that — and now you were suffering the consequences of that.

You had a track record for falling in love way too easily with people, as evident by your long list of situationships turned relationships, so when you found yourself staring at Jay for a bit too long, you weren’t entirely alarmed because you knew you’d be able to get over it in a few weeks. It was no biggie, or so you thought.

After Jiwon’s official departure from the band, the overall atmosphere had lifted and everyone was back to their normal selves; Sunoo and Sunghoon were back to bickering, and Jungwon and Riki were back to hogging you. Heeseung occasionally joined in sessions despite the senior duties that called for his presence. Jake and Jay, on the other hand, were preparing diligently for the festival, working on the song non-stop. It’s because of that that you haven’t been seeing either of them lately, which you were thankful for because it gave you time to really think. Think about whether Jay liked you as a friend or in a romantic sense.

“You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?” Mia nudges you in the arm. She knows you like the back of her hand at this point, given the amount of time she’s spent at your practices. It’s thanks to your cupid skills that your brother and her have been spending much more time together inside and out of the practice room, and despite either of them telling you that they’re just friends, you know better than that.

You sigh, knowing that it’s no use lying to her. “Is it that obvious?”

"Oh, baby, it’s written all over your face.” Her neatly manicured fingers push loose strands of hair out of your face just before squishing your cheeks in an endearing manner. “Talk to me about it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know.” She gives you a knowing look. “It’s just... that I liked him for so long, thinking that he was taken, and I felt so fucking guilty for it. Then the whole ‘Jiwon leaving’ thing happened, and now I’m all confused. Honestly, there hasn’t been a moment where Jay hasn’t confused me. Everything he says and does just makes me want to scream, ‘What the fuck are we!’ but I know he’s just doing it because we’re friends or whatever.

I mean, he literally calls me princess. How does he not expect me to not feel things? It’s so damn frustrating. I thought I would be able to get over these feelings before winter started, but here we are in the dead of winter, and I’m still helplessly pining over my brother’s best friend, like a damn loser.”

Everything you’ve been holding since you transferred here finally threatens to spill out, and by now, you just couldn’t help the tears from lining your eyes and your throat from constricting.

“Oh, my Y/n.” She embraces you in a hug and connects her forehead with yours; it only eggs you on to fully succumb to your emotions, and so tears become full-fledged sobs. “It’s okay, let it all out.” Her voice, along with her hand ministering to gently soothe your back, lulls you.

Until you’re left only as a sniffling mess, she continues to caress your back. “Thank you, Mi. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m always here for you,” She squeezes you one last time for good measure before letting go of you. “Now, we need a plan for you to get your man.”

“No, we do not.”

“You did it for me, so it’s only fair if I return the favour.”

“I don’t even know if he likes me like that,” you exhale for what seems like the nth time this month.

“Then we’ll make sure he does. Simple as that,” she claps her hand. “Boys fall for anything, so if he doesn’t already like you, he will anyway, because just look at you! You’re stunning, funny, kind, talented, and so so so much more. Believe me when I say that, Y/n.” Her features soften even further as she shares a look of sympathy with you.

Her words melt right through you, and you’d like to believe that you do hold the ability to make Jay fall for you.

—

Endless weeks of toiling had brought you all to this exact moment — d-day. You fidgeted with the microphone stand to try getting a better hold of your emotions because there was no way you would mess things up, not when you’ve all worked so hard for this.

The seats in front of you are filled to the brim, yet out of the hundreds of faces, you could only recognise a select few: your mom, Mia, and a few of the others’s family members.

Jay, who stood not too far behind you, could see the trembling in your legs. “You’ll do perfect; I know that because you were made for this.” He whispers in your ear, squeezing your hands in the process. You’ve never wanted anything more than to just kiss the boy for being so damn near perfect — everything you could’ve asked for and more — but he wasn’t yours to kiss, so you heed those thoughts away, instead simply nodding your head.

“Hello, we are ENHYPEN, and we’ll be performing an original song called ‘Fatal Trouble.’” Jake’s voice echoes throughout the school hall, with claps following shortly after, just before it falls back to a silent abyss.

Sunghoon’s keys fill the empty air before you start, “Can’t believe. You, in front of my eyes, everything is the same. But your smile is one I don’t know. Your pupils are like an abyss.” You shut your eyes, letting your emotions lace through each and every word you sing.

As soon as Sunoo and Jay’s electric guitars and Riki’s drums joined in on the melody, you could physically feel the shift in the air. It brought goosebumps to your skin watching people gape at you in awe and watching their eyes twinkle against the stage lights.

“Fatal trouble. It’s getting blurry. The memory of you is crumbling down.” Heeseung and Jungwon’s lower voice harmonises with your higher one, creating the most heavenly of harmonies to echo across the expanse of the hall. It felt so electrifying to finally be able to see the fruits of all your hard work. You’re happy you got to perform with these boys side by side.

By the time the instrumentals fade to complete silence, your heart roars against your chest like a lion so hard you can practically hear them in your ears. You all take time to thank the audience before heading backstage, where you all instantly huddle together.

“We did so well!” Sunoo beams.

“For all our hard work, I say we go drinking after this,” Heeseung suggests with a motion of his hand, to which the others instantly agree.

“Drinks are on me!” You chuckle as you watch your overly excited brother raise his arm like a puppy. You of all people know just how hard he exerted himself just for this performance, if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by, so you’re just happy to finally see him be himself again.

Cheers and hoots are heard throughout the backstage area until the staff politely asks you to leave. Before you could even follow the rest past the door, Jay’s call to you stopped you in your tracks.

“You did well out there,” he compliments with a sheepish smile, and it does the same thing it always does to you — make you fall even harder. You were so damn weak for him. “I knew you would kill it.”

“You did too, considering it is your song.” He steps a foot closer to you, and despite the hitch in your throat, you don’t do much to shy away. Jay takes this as a sign to be more forthright with you. He takes your hand in his, tracing circles with his thumb along the backside of your hand.

“I wrote this song for you. It wasn’t just your voice that inspired me to write this song; it was your smile, the way you made me feel, and the warmth you gave. So, technically, it’s our song.” The boyishness in his tone is obvious, almost like he was scared to admit this to you in the first place.

“I-…” You’re rendered speechless at his insinuation, feeling the familiar giddiness starting to spread across your body. “Are you confessing to me right now?” His deep eyes hold yours, staring at you with such admiration and intensity that you feel like you could cry.

“Yes, I am, princess.” His voice was nothing short of a whisper. You could see the way he eyes your lips, and so without much contemplation, or even hesitation for that matter, you take the first step in your newfound relationship by trapping him in a kiss. Further closing in the distance between you, your arms travel around his neck while his hands find purchase in your waist.

As breathless as you felt, you couldn’t let him go — not when this is all you’ve ever wanted for so long. Months of seeing him with Jiwon and hopelessly pining over him brought you to this moment, and you were going to let yourself relish the fuck out of it.

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