livelaughlovealexiaputellas

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

I get so bummed out when I see people apologizing for oversharing or using tumblr like a diary. Its the fucking end times, babes. We're all lonely and scared. Post your shit, someone out there cares. I do. Nobody should be going through it alone.

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

would you ever consider writing for alexia or Leah in the near future

Honestly Writing isn’t really my sort of thing i wouldn’t have the time let alone the concentration for it but @a-pute11as is phenomenally talented when it comes to writing about Alexia actually anyone for that matter highly recommend going and looking at her recent fics she’s done🙂‍↔️

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

Women + Biceps have me W.E.A.K 🫦

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

From this:

To this:

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

lost in translation - kika nazareth

word count - 5.8k | summary - you and kika became friends quickly, she was like a shot of espresso in human version, but when she realises your weakness is her native tongue, she uses it to her advantage.

lots of portuguese translations, i used deepl so hopefully everything is correct, let me know if it isnt <3

MDNI 18 + smut

it had always been easy with kika. 

on the pitch, you moved like one person, reading each other's minds without needing words. but off the field, something even deeper had formed. the late-night talks after training, the quiet walks through city streets, the laughter that came so easily, or the nights where you’d somehow end up laying on top of each other. it all felt natural, completely inevitable.

you’d always known kika was touchy. from the moment you met, she’d claimed space beside you like it was hers to take. her thigh would be pressed to yours on the bench, or her hand on your back when she laughed, forehead resting on your shoulder after tough games. 

at first, you thought it was culture or just her bubbly, bouncy personality. she was affectionate with everyone.

she had called you ‘linda’ from the moment she met you, she greeted you with it every morning, at one point you genuinely thought she was under the impression that it was your name. 

it was a full month of her calling you it before you bought it up, “you do know my name isn’t linda right?” you asked. 

she broke out into full blown laughter, “amor, you thought that i thought your name was linda?”

you were instantly embarrassed, “well it’s all you’ve called me since we met, so i thought maybe you got confused?”

her eyes lit up as she looked at you, “it means beautiful in portuguese,” she smiled softly, “i’ve been calling you beautiful.” 

your eyes widened, cheeks red, mouth dropping open slightly, “oh.” 

somewhere along the way, you stopped pretending your stomach didn’t flip in multiple directions every time she leaned into you. you stopped ignoring the goosebumps when she tangled your fingers together as if it were nothing.

you made a tradition out of thursday nights, you’d go to hers, occasionally with a few of the other girls, and take turns picking a movie. initially it started in an attempt to help her english improve, not that she really needed it, but when you offered to watch movies in portuguese so you could learn her language too, she refused and you didn’t think too much of it.

-

the two of you were sitting on her sofa, your legs draped across hers, a blanket covering the two of you as her hand moved slowly up and down your leg. you were watching despicable me 2, she picked it because of the ‘cute yellow things’ and you couldn’t help but put it on with a smile across your face, even if you secretly hated it.

the movie was about half way through when kika’s phone started ringing. her hand stilled for a moment before she reached for the device, barely glancing at the screen before answering.

“olá, mãe.” her voice was soft, effortless, and you were obsessed with it. (hi mum)

you couldn’t understand a word she was saying, but that didn’t matter. you watched the shape of her mouth, the soft curl of her tongue around unfamiliar syllables, and felt heat spread across your chest. 

and maybe you imagined it, but her hand moved higher.

fingertips ghosting just above your knee, like she wasn’t fully paying attention, but you knew she was. you could feel it in the rhythm, in the way her thumb slowed down every time your breath caught.

you forced your gaze back to the screen, but it was pointless. you couldn’t focus, not when you could hear her in the background, laughing into the phone, her accent thick and affectionate.

she glanced sideways at you for a moment, her eyes glazing your face like she was memorising it, before turning her attention back to the call.

“sim, ela está aqui, está literalmente deitada em cima de mim,” she said, grinning. (yeah, she’s here, she’s literally lying on top of me.)

you frowned a little, more confused then anything, “what?”

she gave you a quick, innocent smile, “nothing, linda.”

you narrowed your eyes, “that’s a lie.”

kika didn’t deny it, instead she laughed slightly, “ela não entende nada.” glancing at you with that same mischief tucked into the corners of her mouth. (she doesn’t understand a thing.)

then she spoke a little softer, far too low for you to catch even if you did know portuguese, “mas deus, mãe, se visses o jeito como ela me olha às vezes.” (but god, mum, if you saw the way she looks at me sometimes.)

you didn’t know what she said, but the way her voice dipped when she said it sent something racing under your skin.

she ended the call soon after, tossing her phone to the other side of the couch, then stretched her arms over her head as if she hadn’t just said something you’d spend the next hour thinking about.

you looked at her, “so, you gonna translate?”

she tilted her head in your direction, a guilty smile on her face, “later,” she murmured, “maybe.”

but you already knew she wouldn’t.

so instead you downloaded duolingo, you tried your best to keep a streak but your focus was never the best, so every streak you started never got past 15 days.

-

you were sitting at breakfast when she first noticed, the table full of your teammates, the conversation mostly focused around the upcoming match, yet you were attempting your daily lesson. 

you had got this particular question wrong a few times, the stupid green bird telling you that you had confused two verbs with each other. it had gotten to the point where you started muttering the words under your breath in an attempt to understand.

her arms wrapped around you from behind, her head resting on your shoulder as she peered at your phone, “o que, linda what are you doing?” 

you quickly slammed your phone face down on the table, surprised by her sudden appearance, “jesus kika, you can’t creep up on a girl like that.”

“let me see.” she reached, grabbing your phone successfully,, raising her arm in the air so you any attempt to get it back would be futile.

“kika give it back!” you groaned, extending your arm in attempts to hide your language learning embarrassment.

“amor, are you learning portuguese?” she asked, your phone behind her back as she looked down at you, your cheeks flushing red. 

“what? no? shut up.” you muttered.

“ooo she’s learning her lover’s language.” patri called out, cata and pina whistling with her. 

your head snapped round to the three of them, eyes narrowing at them. 

“aren’t you so cute?” kika smiled, her arms wrapping back around your shoulders as she rocked the two of you back and forth. the unimpressed look on your face barely covered the way your heart was beating through your chest. 

“they’re going to kiss before the end of the season, i’ll bet on it.” jana chimed in, wiggling her eyebrows as she looked at the two of you. 

“oye, leave the kids alone.” alexia rolled her eyes. 

“thank you alexia, someone is speaking sense.” you nodded, crossing your arms as kika’s hands moved to rest on top of your shoulders. 

alexia didn’t say anything back right away. she just looked at you. at kika.

at the way her fingers casually moved across your collarbone. the way you didn’t move away from her touch. the way you leaned into her just slightly, without even noticing.

she raised an eyebrow, “if that’s just friends,” she said, grabbing her water bottle as she eyed the two of you, “i’ve been doing it wrong my whole life.”

the room howled. jana nearly choked on her protein shake.

“alexia!” you groaned, burying your face in your hands, in attempts to hide the way your face lit up further.

kika just laughed and leaned further over you, arms sliding around your neck, lips right next to your ear, “você é mesmo fofinha quando está envergonhada.” (you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.)

that only made it worse, and kika knew it.

-

she’d pepper little portuguese phrases into your conversations, phrases you never fully understood, apart from the few basic words you had learnt from your duolingo lessons. the effect her home language had on you was evident, your heart rate sped up when she spoke it, your mouth dropping open ever so slightly, your eyes far too focused on the way her lips moved. 

so when the season ended and she mentioned flying home to portugal, it didn’t feel like a question when she asked if you wanted to come. you just said yes, of course you did. it was her.

kika came alive in lisbon. 

she wore loose linen and her sun-kissed skin was always on display, her hair damp from the ocean. she spoke portuguese constantly, quickly, slipping back into it like she never stopped speaking it. you understood maybe five percent of it, trying to use your limited knowledge to figure out some ‘new’ words. but still, you listened like it mattered. because the sound of her voice when she spoke her mother tongue was… god. it was something else.

her voice low as she murmured things to you in portuguese that you couldn’t begin to understand.

it didn’t matter, you didn’t need the words. you liked it, too much. especially when she used it like this.

“kika," her mum was stood making dinner before glancing between the two of you, "vocês dois vão jantar?" (are you both having dinner?)

kika nodded, grinning. "claro, mãe. já é da família. ela não tem escolha." (of course, mom. she’s already part of the family. she doesn’t have a choice.)

you sat at the table, smiling politely, “you two are definitely talking about me.”

kika turned to you with a sparkle in her eye, a smirk painted across her face, “we’re saying how beautiful you are, obviously.”

you narrowed your eyes, “you’re lying.”

“am i?” she teased, then turned back to her mum, lowering her voice, just enough that it still carried.

"ela só entende um pouquinho." (she only understands a little bit.)

her mum gave you a knowing smile before turning back to kika, "francisca, tenha cuidado ou ela vai começar a perceber.” (francisca, be careful or she will start figuring it out.)

kika looked at you, laughing at your obvious lack of understanding, leaning back into her chair with a smug look on her face as if her words weren’t having some kind of effect on you. 

-

the two of you were laid across the small double bed in her childhood bedroom. the window cracked open, the warm summer air brushing in as the sun set in the distance.

she was lying horizontally, her head resting lazily on your stomach, her legs draped just over the side of the bed. you were scrolling through something on your phone, not really paying attention, you were too aware of her fingers tracing circles against the bare skin of your waist where your shirt had ridden up.

“you were such a nerd,” you said, tapping a photo of a young kika on the wall, wearing braces and a massive benfica scarf that was practically the size of her, “this one belongs in a museum.”

“cale a boca,” she said with a groan, covering her face with one hand, “i was cute.” (shut up)

“you are cute.” you muttered, the words leaving your lips before you could stop yourself.

kika’s hand stilled on your side, leaving only silence between you for what felt like a second too long.

“don’t stop doing that.” you said quickly, you craved her touch, even if it was just ‘friendly’ little circles against your skin. 

her fingers resumed their soft, idle path. slower this time. more deliberate.

“you like it when i touch you like this?” she asked, casual, but not really. there was a hint of something under the words.

you looked down at her, heart skipping, there was nothing casual about the effect she was having on you right now, “you touch me like this all the time.”

“yeah,” her fingers drifted lower, as if she was exploring your body, “talvez eu queira tocar-te mais do que só isto.” (maybe i want to touch you more than just this.)

you huffed out, not that you were annoyed with her, in fact you were the opposite. she had an obvious effect on you, one that you knew she was fully aware of, yet you couldn’t stop yourself from falling a little harder. 

you didn’t know what to say to that. or maybe you did, but it felt like saying it would unravel something. and you didn’t want to ruin this, you couldn’t ruin it. 

it was everything. 

“i used to lie here and dream about playing for portugal,” she said softly, turning her face into your shirt, “about representing my country, playing with the best, big stadiums, trophies and all of that.”

“and now you’re living it.” your hand moved to her head, your fingers automatically raking through her hair.

“yeah,” she murmured, voice muffled, “but i never dreamt about o que eu sentiria por ti.” (the way i’d feel about you.)

you froze, “about what?”

she didn’t answer, just shifted a little closer.

-

you were still wrapped in her bed an hour later. the lamp was off now, the only light coming from the hallway, spilling in under the cracked door in a narrow line. 

the house was quiet, you assumed her family had gone to sleep.

you’d shifted somehow in the time that passed, ending up lying face to face, your legs tangled beneath the blanket. her fingers were playing with the drawstring of your hoodie now, well her hoodie, technically, but you’d worn it so often it was basically yours. 

kika shifted closer, her fingers now curling into the fabric where it bunched at your hip, “gosto quando usas isto.” (i like when you wear this.)

there it was again. that soft, impossible to truly understand portuguese.

you bit your lip, “you keep saying things i don’t understand. you’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?”

kika grinned, completely unapologetic, “talvez.” (maybe.)

you narrowed your eyes at her, mock-offended, “that’s mean.”

“hmm i don’t think so.” her voice dipped low, teasing, “i think you like not knowing.”

you rolled onto your back dramatically, exhaling deeply, “this is emotional torment, i really need to start learning this language properly, that stupid owl knows nothing.”

“maybe i’ll teach you.” she leaned in closer, “but only the important words.”

you could feel her breath on your cheek now.

“oh yeah?” you blinked, trying to sound unaffected, staring up at the ceiling as if it would stop your heart from racing, “and what are those?”

kika smirked, her lips moving as they brushed your ear, “segredos,” she whispered. (secrets.)

your heart rate doubled, your cheeks immediately turning a deep pink as you swallowed the lump that appeared in your throat.

she pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. then winked. before settling back down like nothing happened.

god this trip was going to kill you.

-

the next morning, kika had you up early with no real warning and a smug grin on her face.

“vai ser bonito, prometo.” she said as she handed you a water bottle and tossed you one of her old baseball caps. (it’s going to be beautiful, i promise.)

her sister, rita, was already waiting in the car, hair pulled back, sunglasses on, feet on the dash. “you’re late,” she smirked, eyeing the two of you as you slid into the backseat together, “were you two too busy being cuddled up in the dark?”

you blinked, kika muttered something under her breath and slammed the door behind her.

“what’d you say?” you asked, nudging kika’s side.

“she said you were too busy kissing.” rita grinned, starting the car.

“meu deus!” kika called out, throwing her head back against the seat. (oh my god!)

you couldn’t help but laugh at her dramatics, “i like your sister.”

the trailhead was tucked away in a stretch of cliffs near the coast, winding through beautiful wildflowers and large pine trees. it wasn't a long hike, but slightly steep in places, and you could feel it in your legs by the time the sun was fully up.

kika stayed behind you most of the time, hand on your back when the path got narrow or unsteady, occasionally tugging at your shirt when she wanted your attention.

which was very often.

“you’re slowing down.” she said, her hands rising to your waist as she attempted to push you forward, in hopes you’d speed up.

“i’m enjoying the view.” you shot back, glancing over your shoulder.

she smiled at that, “eu também.” (so am i.)

-

back at the house, the kitchen was buzzing. kika’s mum stood over the stove, tossing sliced garlic into a pan of sizzling olive oil while humming softly to a radio playing something old and romantic.

you sat at the small wooden table, hair still damp from a quick shower, kika’s hoodie clinging to your frame. across from you, rita scrolled on her phone, looking far too innocent. kika was beside you, flipping through a wrinkled magazine, but you could feel how aware she was of you. her thigh pressed lightly against yours like it was an accident, yet she hadn’t moved it.

“dinner smells incredible,” you offered, smiling at her mum.

she turned with a bright smile. “thank you,” she said, accent thick but clear, “i make… how you say… kika’s favorite? since little girl.”

you grinned, her effort to communicate with you made you light up, “then i’m honoured.”

kika muttered beside you, “she’s going to say something embarrassing, i can feel it.”

rita didn’t look up, “she’s definitely going to say something embarrassing.”

her mum tilted her head at you, “you like portugal?”

“i love it,” you said honestly, “especially the company.”

kika elbowed you under the table.

her mum smiled, then pointed between the two of you, “you and kika, you are very…” she searched for the word, frowning slightly, “close.”

you nodded, ever so slightly, yet still noticeable, “yeah, we are.”

kika looked like she wanted to melt into her chair.

her mum seemed pleased with your answer, but she wasn’t done. “she no stop talk about you,” she added, “always, always ‘she score goal, she laugh like this, she sleep like starfish.’” she mimed someone starfishing in bed.

kika slapped a hand over her face, groaning, “mãe. please.”

her mum held her hands up with a small laugh, then looked at you again, serious now.

“she is happy with you,” she said, gently, “more than before.”

you opened your mouth to reply, but nothing quite came out. kika was frozen beside you, lips slightly parted like she’d forgotten how to breathe.

“that means a lot.” you said finally, voice soft. you decided to attempt some portuguese, “obrigado.” which earnt you a kind smile from her mum, and a brushing hand over your thigh from kika. (thank you.)

-

you were both back in her room after dinner. kika was lying on her stomach across the foot of the bed, scrolling on her phone, legs swinging absently. you were propped against the headboard, knees pulled up, tucked under the hoodie she still hadn’t asked for back.

she glanced up, catching the way your eyes were focused on her.

“what?” she asked.

you just shrugged, “still trying to figure out what you’ve been saying without me knowing.”

kika smirked, eyes dropping to her screen again, “wouldn’t you like to know.”

you tilted your head, “i would, actually.” 

she set her phone down with a little sigh, rolling onto her side to face you, “it’s like you knew we were speaking about you.”

you were silent for a moment, thinking of a response before she spoke again.

her eyebrows raised, “so what, you want me to translate?”

“i want you to stop using portuguese like it’s some secret weapon.”

kika laughed, “nope, it is a secret weapon.”

you narrowed your eyes at her, “it’s not fair. you whisper something, and i have no idea if you’re insulting me, confessing your love, or listing your grocery run.”

“who says i’m not doing all three?”

kika’s eyes drifted over you, “maybe i like having the upper hand.”

you sat forward, just a little, “you think you’ve got that?”

she shrugged casually, her voice low, “most of the time, right now i definitely do.”

you matched her tone, “say something now. in portuguese.”

“why?”

“because i want to hear your voice.”

kika watched you for a moment, completely unreadable. then she leaned up onto her elbows, expression slightly softer now.

“se soubesses tudo o que penso quando estás assim, vestida com a minha roupa, a olhar para mim desse jeito-” (if you knew everything i thought when you’re like this, wearing my clothes, looking at me like that-)

you didn’t let her finish, “that was a lot of words.”

she grinned, “wasn’t even half of it.”

“was it about me looking hot?” you joked, but it wasn’t really a joke and she could certainly tell that from the way your chest rose a little quicker.

“hot,” she repeated, clearly amused, a little laugh leaving her lips, “that’s one word for it.”

-

the sun was high in the sky, casting golden warmth over the curve of the beach. you and kika had picked a quiet spot near the dunes, half-shaded by a striped umbrella that did almost nothing against the heat, but neither of you really minded. the towels were soft, the snacks were readily available, and your body was covered in saltwater and too much sun.

kika was laid on her stomach, flipping through her phone with her chin propped on her forearm. her bikini top was untied at the back, her skin sun-kissed and glistening in the reflection of the sun, a few water droplets dancing across her body. 

you tried not to stare. really, you did.

“these chips are shit,” she mumbled, mouth full, “why’d you bring them?”

“they’re not that bad,” you said, popping another into your mouth, “they’re edible.”

she snorted and turned to look at you, grinning wide, a few loose strands of hair stuck to her cheek from a swim earlier, “you’re just eating them out of spite now.”

“correct.” you nodded.

you passed her your drink without a word, and she took it. her fingers brushed yours, and you tried not to notice how warm they were. or how long it lingered.

“we should’ve brought wine,” she said, eyes closed now, sunk deep into the towel, “or something cold with fruit in it. this feels like a wine day.”

you glanced down at her.

“you’re staring, linda.” she murmured, not opening her eyes.

you looked away quickly, “no i’m not.”

“mhm.”

you grabbed a still wet grape from the container between you and dropped it on her back, just between her shoulder blades.

she yelped, “idiota.” (idiot.)

you burst into laughter, but she didn’t let you get far. she rolled over, caught your wrist, and dragged you down half on top of her. and suddenly, you were chest to chest, her thigh sliding between yours, the laughter sticking in your throat like something caught.

neither of you moved.

she blinked up at you, one arm still looped around your back, her breathing slower.

“you’ve got something in your teeth.” she whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she tried to stop herself from laughing.

you tried to stop yourself from laughing too, but you couldn’t hold back completely, “god i hate you.” 

“but you’re still on top of me.” she smirked, her eyebrow raising as her tongue flicked across her bottom lip. 

“shut up.” you rolled your eyes, rolling off of her as you turned your back to face her, but you couldn’t hide the grin on your face.

not long after, you were sat between her legs, head tipped back against her shoulder, slightly damp from a dip in the ocean. her hands were playing with the ends of her hair, your fingers grazing up and down her calf in slow, meaningless patterns that somehow meant everything. 

“comfy?” she asked, her breath close to your ear. 

“mhm,” you nodded, “very.”

“estou feliz, linda.” with that she placed a soft kiss on your shoulder, the two of you content in each other's space, something building. (i’m glad, beautiful.)

you could’ve stayed like that for hours. 

-

there was a tension that covered the both of you when you got home. skin still warm from hours outside, laughter sticking to your lips like salt. you could still feel the ocean on your body and her on your mind.

inside, the house was quiet, her family had gone out for food, leaving just the two of you, alone. 

you turned to say something, but you didn’t get the chance.

kika was already in front of you, close, fingers brushing your waist.

“you’ve been looking at me all day.” she said, voice low, familiar patterns drawing on your waist.

“you’ve been touching me all day.” you fired back, breath catching.

her lips curved into a grin, softer now. she reached up, pushed a bit of your hair back from your face, her hand resting on your cheek.

“o que estamos a fazer?” she asked, (what are we doing?)

there was that portuguese again, her words having an all too familiar effect on you. 

you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, “can you translate that please?” you whispered, your voice quiet. 

“what are we doing?” she asked.

your heart thudded, you were sure she could hear it, “depends,” you whispered, “what do you want to do?”

she didn’t answer with words, but she stepped in closer, hips brushing yours, hands slipping up under the hem of your shirt, warm palms on warm skin. your arms reached up as they wrapped around the back of her neck. 

her lips found yours with an aching kind of slowness, like she didn’t want to miss a single second. it wasn’t desperate and it wasn’t messy. it was just soft and warm and completely grounding, like exhaling after holding your breath for weeks.

you pulled away for a second, your forehead resting against hers, “i’ve been waiting for this, for so fucking long.” 

that broke something in her. she pressed your back against the wall, hands framing your face, mouths crashing. now it was messy and desperate. she kissed you like she’d been waiting to devour you, like she’d been holding this back for far too long and didn’t care who knew it anymore.

your hands found her waist, pulling your body flush against hers. there was no space. no hesitation.

she placed small kisses across your jaw, trailing down your neck, along your collarbone. you tasted of salt and sun, and the soft breath you let out undid her even more.

“porra,” she whispered, her teeth trailing against your skin, “you have no idea.” (fuck.)

“tell me,” you practically whimpered, “tell me in portuguese.”

she laughed breathlessly, “you like that, linda?”

you nodded, your lip caught between your teeth. 

“quero você tanto,” she whispered, lips near your ear, “i want you so bad.”

“please.” you whimpered, your knees practically going weak.

you don’t know how you ended up in her bedroom. you were tangled up in each other's arms, shirts barely off, bikini bottoms still damp and clinging to your hips, hair messy from the beach.  

her fingers brushed over your ribs, slow and intentional, her smile still playing at her lips, but her eyes had gone darker. more focused this time.

you looked at her, heart pounding against your chest.

her hand slid lower, tracing the curve of your hip, then slipping beneath the hem of your shirt again. your body heating up beneath her touch.

she leaned in, kissing your jaw, your neck. slowly, there was no rush about it. her hand moved to your inner thigh, barely brushing the skin. your breath hitched automatically. 

you exhaled shakily, eyes fluttering shut as her fingers traced lazy. she wasn’t rushing, she was teasing, savoring the way you reacted to every inch of contact. her mouth pressed into your shoulder, soft and steady, grounding you.

“do you want me to stop?” she asked softly.

you looked at her, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling quickly and shook your head. “no. don’t stop.”

“vou fazer-te sentir tão bem.” she muttered, placing another kiss against your shoulder. (i’m going to make you feel so good.)

her hand slid between your legs, and your breath caught in your throat, your whole body stilled beneath her. 

she paused. her eyes flicked up to meet yours, asking again, making sure you were as okay with it as she was.

you nodded, barely, your lips parting, “yes,” you whispered, “please.”

she kissed you again, deeper this time.

her fingers drew small circles over your clit, moving with agonizing slowness. her fingers were brushing over your heat as if she was trying to explore every part of you, every sound you’d make, every way you’d respond to her touch. 

her other hand held your jaw, steady and gentle. 

you gasped into her mouth, your hips rising instinctively to chase her fingers.

she smiled instinctively, “you’re so sensitive, so wet,” she murmured, “estás tão bonita assim.” (you look so pretty like this.)

you didn’t understand the words, but the tone made you shiver. 

you tangled your fingers in her hair, pulling her closer, needing more of her, all of her. every motion was slow, deep, careful, like she wanted you to feel everything. remember everything.

you clung to her, kissing her like your life depended on it. she moved with you, quiet gasps and low hums shared between the sheets, the tension that had been building for so long finally finding a release.

her fingers dipped inside of you, curling with precision, moving in time with your body as she set a steady pace. you could feel yourself tightening around her fingers, getting closer as every inch of you responded to her. 

“fuck kika.” you couldn’t even hide the moan that escaped you.

she knew exactly how to read you, far too well, her pace speeding up as she sent you tumbling towards the end. 

“let go, amor.” she muttered, her lips pressing to yours as you let go of all the tension that was building, “tão bom para mim.” (so good for me.)

every lingering touch, every word that you never found out the meaning of, every moment you had shared with her unravelled, in the best way possible. 

you laid next to her, your breathing shallow as you attempted to come down from the high kika had just put you on. she adjusted herself, leaning up on one arm as you looked up at her. 

“god i didn’t know me speaking portuguese made you that wet.” she teased, her hand moving up and down your arm, giving you something to match your breathing too. 

“it just sounds so sexy when you say literally anything.” you defended, reaching up as you tucked a stray hair behind her ear, “plus i’ve been looking at you in a bikini all day, how could i be normal.”

she smiled, reaching down to place a kiss on your lips, one she assumed would be innocent, but you weren’t done. your hand reached up, cupping her jaw as you kept her in place, lips moving against each other as the heat began to rise again. you swung your leg over her hips, moving to straddle her as her hands sat at your waist. 

your lips trailed to her neck, littering small kisses against her skin, the small moans that she couldn’t contain only spurring you on. 

“amor,” she breathed out, you barely even stopped to acknowledge her words as you worked your way down her body, “we can just rest, i can look after you.” 

you were just above the hem of her bikini bottoms, pressing seemingly innocent kisses to her lower stomach, “do you want that? or can i make you feel good?” you muttered, eyes looking up at her. 

you watched as her chest rose and fell, her eyes scanning your face as if she was checking you were sure, “make me feel good.”

that was all you needed. you hooked your fingers on her bottoms, pulling them down, discarding them somewhere at the bottom of her bed. your moved your arms to rest under her thighs, her legs automatically moving over your shoulders as you placed kisses on her inner thighs, inching closer and closer to where she wanted it. 

your eyes travelled up to her, her head thrown back, hair messy against the players, eyes closed but her mouth slightly parted. 

kika’s fingers fisted the sheets, her back arching ever so slightly as she whispered your name, “you’re driving me crazy.” she muttered. 

you smiled against her skin, “good.”

she looked down at you, you didn’t look away. you wanted her to see how much you meant it, how much she meant it. 

“i’ve wanted this for so long” she whispered, chest rising and falling as her hand reached down to cup your cheek, “you, like this.”

you leaned into her palm, kissing it softly, and then you gave her what she asked for.

a gentle, slow flick of your tongue, soft at first, then more deliberate as her legs tensed around your shoulders and a broken moan spilled out of her lips.

you moved carefully, learning her through every small moan, every twitch of her hips, every whispered "meu deus" as she clutched the sheets. and when she cried out your name, back arching, body trembling beneath your touch, your whole body warmed up.

your name and portuguese falling from her lips.

you slowed, gentle kisses easing her through it, your hands running up her sides in soft, reassuring strokes. 

when you finally moved up her body, she reached for you, pulling you into her arms like you were the only thing she needed in that moment. she was wrapped around you, her leg tangled with yours, one arm draped across your stomach and her face pressed to your shoulder.

you ran your fingers lazily along her back, her breath tickled your skin as she shifted slightly, tightening her grip around your waist.

it was quiet for a while, not the awkward kind, the kind that made you feel safe. 

“by the way,” kika said, her head lifting as she spoke, “i really like you.”

you couldn’t help but laugh slightly, “yeah? when did you realise that?”

she pushed your arm, a playful smile covering her face, “cala a boca, idiota.” (shut up, idiot.)

“i really like you too,” the smile on your lips hiding nothing, “especially when you speak portuguese.”

a/n - thank you for reading! the feedback i got before even writing this fic was insane, so thank you for the love. my asks are open for any feedback/requests <3

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

Nah Sarina’s reaction when Burna boy walked out has me weak she’s too iconic 🥲

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

Thank you, Switzerland, for being such incredible hosts.

From the breathtaking stadium views to the unforgettable atmosphere, this tournament was something special. We're incredibly proud of the fight the team put up against Spain, there’s so much more to come in the future.

We hope this tournament not only raised the visibility of women’s football in Switzerland but also leaves a lasting impact.

May the excitement inspire a new generation of young girls to dream big.

We were gonna put our honorable mentions here but to keep it simple we‘ll just put the whole team here. 🤍🤍

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

god i love a pretty girl

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

girls are just so [clenches fist] fucking pretty

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

Reader x Alexia x Leila

-> (+18) MVP - 2K

lesbian sex between reader, Leila, and Alexia- that's all I have to say.

-> (+18) bewitched - 7K -

Alexia and Leila punished you for touching yourself while they were away. A bit of angst and aftercare <3

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

Ale🫶🏻

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

how anyone is supposed to concentrate on the game when they’re boaf on that damn field come Sunday 🫠

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

happy happy girl

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

an extra bottle - patri guijarro

word count - 1.8k | summary - after hours on the beach of sneaky touches and not so subtle glances, needing an extra bottle of suncream seems like a good excuse for getting away from everyone.

MDNI 18 + - smut

the two of you had been at the beach for hours, not alone unfortunately, but surrounded by a few of your barca teammates who had tagged along on your offseason trip to mallorca. whilst the company was lively, it hadn’t stopped the tension from building between you and patri. lying on the sand in swimwear that didn’t leave much to the imagination, your bodies warm from the sun and far too close, had left you more flustered than relaxed. 

even your attempt to cool off in the sea had only led to more temptation, her hands trailing along your skin beneath the water, safely out of your teammates’ sight.

so naturally, when it came time to reapply your sunscreen, you asked your girlfriend for help.

you were turned away from patri, eyes locked on the gentle waves crawling up the shore, while she worked the sunscreen into your back. her hands moved slowly, deliberately, as if she were painting something delicate. she didn’t miss a single inch, smoothing it over your warmed skin with ease.

her hands paused at your shoulders before shifting again, kneading the tension that had crept into your muscles. the tension that had been building since you got there. your eyes fluttered shut, your head tilting slightly to give her better access.

“amor.” patri murmured, her breath brushing close to your ear.

“mhm?” you hummed, not opening your eyes.

“we’re out of sunscreen,” she said, a little louder this time, her hands drifting down to rest at your waist.

you turned your head, confused. “no, amor, i packed tw-”

but she cut you off with a pointed look, nodding subtly toward the villa behind you. “no, remember? you left the second one in our room.”

it took a second for the message to land, but then you saw the slight flick of her tongue across her bottom lip, how she caught it between her teeth, and suddenly it all made sense.

“o-oh, right, yes, i forgot to bring both.” you said, nodding a little too eagerly, voice raised just enough for the others to hear.

the two of you got to your feet, leaving your towels and bags behind, the ‘empty’ bottle in patri’s hand.

“we’re just heading back to the villa. need to grab more suncream.” she announced with a casual smile, giving the bottle a shake for emphasis.

“you just covered her in suncream.” jana laughed, her head tilting slightly.

“yeah, she’s still got streaks on her back, see.” bruna pointed out, brows furrowing.

“but now patri needs some.” you replied innocently, already backing away.

ona rolled her eyes, bumping bruna’s shoulder. “nena, they’re not going for suncream. they’re going to put their hands all over each other, just away from our eyes this time.”

you didn’t bother trying to deny it, she wasn’t wrong and you were already halfway gone.

“what? oh my god.” bruna’’s eyes went wide as she looked between ona, alexia and jana, who couldn’t stop themselves but burst into laughter.

“chicas, the suncream’s literally sticking out of your bag!” alexia called after you, grinning.

but patri just raised a dismissive hand over her shoulder, “adiós!” she sang, and the two of you disappeared down the path, already far too distracted to care.

the door had barely clicked shut behind you when patri guided you against the wall, her hands already sliding beneath the edge of your bikini top. patri’s body was pressed flush to yours, her hands roaming with a kind of urgency that had been building for hours.

“i thought we were going to the bedroom.” you teased breathlessly, turning your head just enough for her lips to brush your cheek.

patri’s voice was low, her breath hot against your ear, “i couldn’t wait.”

her fingers trailed down your sides, slow but deliberate, exploring skin she already knew by heart. you tilted your head back against the wall as her lips found the spot just beneath your jaw, and your hands reached to anchor on her hips.

patri kissed you like she’d been holding back all day, because she had. every glance at the beach, every brush of your skin under the water, every whispered word that danced the edge of teasing had been leading to this.

her fingers laced with yours as she tugged you away from the wall, guiding you down the hallway, breathless, bumping into each other with quiet laughs and heated touches. 

as soon as you stepped into your bedroom, your back was against the bed, “this,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “has been driving me crazy all day.”

her hands toyed with the ties of your bikini, pulling them, watching them drop. her hands followed immediately, mapping every inch of you that was now uncovered. 

her hand dipped between your legs, fingers running through your already wet folds, “god, i would’ve made that excuse sooner if i knew you were this wet.”

you couldn’t help but laugh slightly, your friends knowing the exact intention behind the two of you leaving but as soon as her fingers began to circle your clit your laughter turned into an explicit moan.

“dime que me quieres,” she whispered, lips brushing yours without kissing.

“i want you,” you breathed, barely making a sound.

then she kissed you again, deeper, slower. everything else faded. there was only the weight of her body, her skin pressed against yours and the heat from her body that you weren’t sure was from the sun or you.

she didn’t rush. every kiss and touch was purposeful, like she was reminding you exactly how much she wanted you, how long she’d waited.

patri’s mouth was hot against your skin, her lips dragging along your jaw before dipping to the sensitive spot that sat just beneath your ear. 

you tried to push into her hand, but she stilled you easily with her other one braced firm on your hip, “fuck, patri stop teasing.” you breathed heavily. 

her fingers didn’t press deeper, they just circled slowly, your hips moved instinctively, trying to chase more, but she pulled back just enough to keep you on edge.

“patri.” you huffed, your hand gripping her wrist, the build up of desperation getting too much.

she leaned in, her breath against your ear, “you think you get to act like that all day, wearing next to nothing, letting me touch you under the water like there was no risk and then not pay for it?”

you opened your mouth to reply, but all that came out was a sound between a moan and a gasp as her two fingers slipped inside without warning, slow but deep.

your back arched, a whimper leaving your lips as she started at a grueling pace.

“there she is,” patri whispered, her voice possessive, “does it feel good?”

you nodded, incapable of anything else, your hands clutching the sheets as she began to move. her thumb circled your clit with just enough pressure to keep you from tipping over, just enough to build you higher without giving you relief.

“say it,” she whispered against your mouth, her rhythm never faltering, “say you need me.”

you let out a broken sound, your forehead pressing to hers, “i need you, please baby, i-”

that was all she needed.

her mouth was back on yours, swallowing your moans as her fingers moved with intention, deeper, faster, giving you exactly what she knew you needed.

and as the pleasure crashed into you, she held you through it, her body grounding yours, her name the only thing on your lips as everything else faded.

the room was quiet, the only sound was your breaths slowly syncing again. her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, neither of you speaking yet. usually, there’d be a second round, more teasing, more tension, but the sun and sea had drained you.

“you good?” she propped herself up, a half smug grin across her face, her fingers stilling for a moment.

you raised your eyebrows, a smile tugging at your lips, “mhm you could say that, are you?”

“incredible.” she grinned, reaching down to pepper a kiss to your lips.

“we should go back out.” you sighed, though you didn’t move.

“let them wait,” she muttered, placing a few more kisses to your face.

when the two of you stepped back onto the beach, it was quieter than before. a few of the girls had shifted under umbrellas, sunglasses perched high, bodies stretched out with drinks in hand and towels kicked aside. 

alexia was the first to glance up, squinting slightly from where she was reclined on her lounger. she took one look at the both of you, your flushed cheeks, patri’s hair not entirely fixed and just smiled knowingly before tipping her sunglasses back down.

ona didn’t say anything at first. she just raised her eyebrows slightly as she handed you your water bottle, her eyes lingering for a second too long on the marks faintly blooming at the base of your throat. you tried not to react.

“did you find the suncream?” she asked, far too casual.

patri flopped down onto her towel beside you and stretched like a cat, matching ona’s casual tone, yet your body was heating up, “yep.”

jana leaned back on her elbows, glancing between the two of you before she murmured, “you were gone a while.”

“had to find the right bottle,” you said, a small shrug attached to your words, trying your best to stop the heat rising to your cheeks even more.

“mhm,” ona muttered, not even trying to hide her smirk, “did you walk into a bush on your way?”

patri reached behind her head to fix her ponytail, unfazed, “what’s your point?”

alexia let out a quiet laugh, “her point is you two aren’t as subtle as you think.”

“subtle wasn’t the goal,” patri smirked, sending a quick glance to ona. 

you shot her a look, “patri.”

she shrugged, then turned her head to look at you, a hint of something soft behind her grin. “what? i wasn’t the one who moaned when-”

you smacked her arm quickly, your hands coming up to cover your face as your cheeks heated up further, but the girls only laughed. not cruel, slightly teasing, but in the way that made you feel safe.

bruna, sitting at the edge of the group with a book in her lap, frowned a little, “wait.”

“no,” ona interrupted, giving her a pat on the knee, “no follow-up questions, bruna, just let it go.”

“but i don’t get it.”

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

give Hannah Hampton her fuckin flowers!!!

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

little princess - leila ouahabi

word count - 1.1k | summary - your daughter draws a picture of you and leila, next to the euros trophy, with a medal around each of your necks. the problem is, you can't quite make out whose got silver, and whose got gold.

-

it was a peaceful sunday afternoon, the two of you had the day off, no commitments other than relaxing. the sun spilled through the large living room windows, lighting up the coffee table where your daughter was busy scribbling away her latest artist creation. 

you were propped onto the sofa, your back pressed against the armrest as your legs lay across leila, her hands moving idly up and down your leg as the two of you focused on some trashy reality tv to keep you entertained.

your eyes flickered to your daughter, her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth slightly as she focused on the finishing touches of her masterpiece. 

“what are you drawing, elena?” you asked, craning your head slightly in an attempt to see her drawing.

“mama,” she huffed without looking up, “you always tell me to be patient, now you be patient.”

you bit your lip to keep from laughing, watching as she used her arm to shield her drawing even more.

“sí, elena,” leila added, firmly nodding in agreement with your sassy 4-year old, “you’re right, she is never patient.”

your mouth dropped open, your face full of disbelief, twisting to face her. “excuse me? you’re taking her side?”

leila smirked without looking away from the TV, “la pequeña princesa es correcta, nunca eres paciente.” (the little princess is correct, you’re never patient)

“i married a traitor,” you muttered dramatically, throwing your head back onto the armrest.

“ah ah ah, what is worse is that you created one,” leila teased, squeezing your leg gently, “so really, whose fault is it?”

before you could respond, elena jumped up from her cross-legged spot on the floor, “i’m done!”, she grinned, clambering onto the sofa, straight onto your lap as she sat in between the two of you.

her signature stick-figure style, lots of colours, hearts and rainbows everywhere and the most adorable ‘by elena’ signature in the corner. in the centre stood two players in football kits, one red with yellow, one white with blue, the english and spanish flags next to each of you. mami scribbled over leila’s head and mama over yours. between the two of you sat a trophy bigger than the both of you.

you melted instantly, your arms wrapping round her as your head rested on her tiny shoulder, “oh, baby, this is so good.”

“mi amor, look at the trophy!” leila beamed, “and my legs! muy largas, muy fuertes. es increíble.” (very large, very strong. it’s incredible.)

“it’s for the euros, see i even did a switzerland flag!” she pointed at an attempted switzerland flag in the top corner, though it was the wrong colours completely. 

you smiled, taking in the scene, until your eyes drifted lower. two medals hung from the stick-figure necks, yet they were both a scribbled mix of gold and silver. 

you blinked, straightening up before looking at leila, “wait, who’s got the gold?”

“i think that’s me,” leila said casually, squinting at the picture. “yep, red kit, spanish flag, that’s definitely a gold medal.”

elena knew this ‘discussion’ far too well, climbing off your lap as soon as the speculation started, reaching for her bowl of strawberries instead, munching on a few whilst she began another drawing. 

“no look at it properly, i clearly have more gold in my medal.” you insisted, shaking your head at leila’s words.

“she obviously got confused, you don’t even wear your hair like that.” leila scoffed, her finger pointing at the paper harshly.

you looked at each other for a moment before turning your attention to your daughter. “elena,” you both said at once, deadly serious.

she paused mid-chew.

“my superstar, who has the gold medal?” you asked slowly.

“yeah, cariño,” leila added, leaning closer, “which one of us won?”

elena blinked, “i don’t know…”

“elena, this is life or death,” you tried to smile sweetly, but your natural competitiveness between you and your wife wasn’t shying away, “and don’t forget mama has already won the euros, remember you like to wear my pretty gold medal!”

“think carefully, mi amor,” leila said sweetly, brushing a curl from elena’s forehead, “who’s the best footballer?”

elena looked between you both, strawberry juice staining her chin, her little brows furrowed, “well mami makes lots of good kicks.” 

“vamos!” leila pumped her fist, so loud it was like she had just won a trophy. 

“but mama scores more goals.”

“yes! perfect baby!” you grinned, sticking your tongue out at leila.

elena groaned, standing up as she looked at the two of you disapprovingly, her arms dramatically crossed as she stomped her foot, “you’re both so loud, i just like pretty colours.”

there was a pause.

“so who wins?” leila whispered.

she stomped her foot before flopping back down, huffing as if she was tired of the same conversation that never ended in your shared household, “i would win against both of you.” she declared. 

silence followed her words, the kind only a truly unimpressed four-year-old could manage.

you stared at her, mouth twitching as you tried to keep from laughing. leila blinked beside you, momentarily stunned into silence before snorting.

“of course baby,” you said, reaching over to ruffle her curls, “you always win.”

“you are a smart girl, mi princesa,” leila added, leaning over to kiss the top of elena’s head, “a champion deserves her trophy.”

the three of you fell back into a comfortable rhythm. elena continued drawing, muttering to herself under her breath about rainbows and gold medals and mama being impatient. you and leila leaned back into your original position, your legs still stretched over her lap, her hand now absently tracing the same small circles on your shin again.

“next time,” you murmured, eyes flickering toward the ceiling, “we agree to just both be winners, yeah?”

leila tilted her head to the side, “mhm, we could...”

“…but we won’t,” you finished at the same time, grinning.

she shook her head, “absolutely not.”

you turned to leila with a grin tugging at your lips, “at least she didn’t draw all that strapping on your leg.”

leila rolled her eyes, “oye, it's not always taped up, only sometimes."

you snorted, “leila, she would've need a whole pencil case just for your thigh.”

leila raised her eyebrow, a smug expression appearing on her face, "and yet, i still have the strongest thigh in this house.”

you patted her leg affectionately, sending her a sweet smile, “i think the tape is what really deserves a medal.”

a/n - thank you for the request anon, i honestly loved writing this so much that i'm tempted to make it a mini series. with a very necessary mention of my favourite euros game 'tape or no tape', (@cee-jay-mcwfc thank you for the incredible suggestion). thank you for reading!

[livelaughlovealexiaputellas]

Lord I am not your strongest soldier show me a pretty athletic girl and I fold 🧎🏻‍♀️