Fem!Cuba/Fem!Canada (2/2)
anonymous
March 13 2010, 03:37:47 UTC
Matilda’s glasses nearly fall off when she opens up the candy.
“Thank you!” she exclaims in an uncharacteristic shriek, before pulling Marisol into a hug. Marisol thinks that the real present is for her, as she sits watching Matilda tear off pieces of sticky golden sugar and push it into her pink mouth.
Matilda comes to each and every one of Marisol’s soccer games. She is too timid for whooping and cheering, but her bright smiles from the sideline are enough.
Win or lose, after every game, she always gives Marisol a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and a whispered, “You did great.” Then, she slips away to avoid the post-game grumbling or adulation.
In the meantime, Matilda hurries back to Marisol’s house-no problem with Antonio, who fawns over the timorous blonde. He insists on calling her “Solie’s girlfriend,” and eventually Marisol stops correcting him. She thinks he gets the message.
Marisol breaks away from her teammates as quickly as she reasonably can, her chest pounding in expectation, as she makes her way back home. She hurries up to her room and inside, before walking over to where Matilda sits on the bed.
“Hi,” she says breathlessly, placing her hand on the girl’s thigh as she sits down.
“Hi,” Matilda repeats. “You did great today.”
“Not too bad,” Marisol concedes. She strokes Matilda’s leg, sliding her hand down to the hem of her skirt. Matilda takes the hint and doesn’t bother with any more chatting. They kiss, touch each other’s hair, fall back onto the bed.
Marisol can taste the faintest hint of something sweet on her girlfriend’s tongue. Maple sugar.
She would bet anything that Matilda probably has the candy heart in her bag right now, slowly, lovingly, deliberately picking her way through the gift.
“You’re sweet,” Marisol breaths into Matilda’s mouth.
“Hm?”
Marisol leans back in again and pushes her lips forcefully against Matilda’s. Matilda sighs and relaxes in Marisol’s muscled arms.
This is the one thing Marisol likes more than soccer. She likes it a lot more.
Re: Fem!Cuba/Fem!Canada (2/2)
anonymous
March 13 2010, 05:25:25 UTC
Oh author!anon, non!op adores this. I have a (huge) soft spot for genderbenders and femmeslash, and I just love how you characterized the two as girls. The way they interact with one another is so wondrously sweet, and cute and fluffy. *insert fangirlish squee here* Great job anon! =D
Re: Fem!Cuba/Fem!Canada (2/2)
anonymous
March 14 2010, 04:03:19 UTC
Honestly, most of the time I'm not that fond of genderbenders. But this is cute. Especially since I love this pairing. And that last line was absolutely adorable and made me love it even more.
“Thank you!” she exclaims in an uncharacteristic shriek, before pulling Marisol into a hug. Marisol thinks that the real present is for her, as she sits watching Matilda tear off pieces of sticky golden sugar and push it into her pink mouth.
Matilda comes to each and every one of Marisol’s soccer games. She is too timid for whooping and cheering, but her bright smiles from the sideline are enough.
Win or lose, after every game, she always gives Marisol a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and a whispered, “You did great.” Then, she slips away to avoid the post-game grumbling or adulation.
In the meantime, Matilda hurries back to Marisol’s house-no problem with Antonio, who fawns over the timorous blonde. He insists on calling her “Solie’s girlfriend,” and eventually Marisol stops correcting him. She thinks he gets the message.
Marisol breaks away from her teammates as quickly as she reasonably can, her chest pounding in expectation, as she makes her way back home. She hurries up to her room and inside, before walking over to where Matilda sits on the bed.
“Hi,” she says breathlessly, placing her hand on the girl’s thigh as she sits down.
“Hi,” Matilda repeats. “You did great today.”
“Not too bad,” Marisol concedes. She strokes Matilda’s leg, sliding her hand down to the hem of her skirt. Matilda takes the hint and doesn’t bother with any more chatting. They kiss, touch each other’s hair, fall back onto the bed.
Marisol can taste the faintest hint of something sweet on her girlfriend’s tongue. Maple sugar.
She would bet anything that Matilda probably has the candy heart in her bag right now, slowly, lovingly, deliberately picking her way through the gift.
“You’re sweet,” Marisol breaths into Matilda’s mouth.
“Hm?”
Marisol leans back in again and pushes her lips forcefully against Matilda’s. Matilda sighs and relaxes in Marisol’s muscled arms.
This is the one thing Marisol likes more than soccer. She likes it a lot more.
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