#do not worry we have long since thought of it this came up within the first day of the first installment of the commissions saga

[twisted-fairytales]

A Rose Sword Act One: Raising Silver

⚔️ Silver: Age 1⚔️

The first year is always the hardest, Lilia thought as he tried to cook for Silver early in the morning. It didn't help that Wisp left him instructions, but they were muddled with water when he began to cook, so he had to fill in most of the missing instructions with what he could read. It was not an easy task for an olden warrior such as himself, but he managed to cook something worthy of a young baby like Silver.

"That was harder than fighting," Lilia mumbled to himself. "But Silver is getting his nutrients, so who am I to complain?"

But, the years of taking care of Malleus did not help him in memory as Silver began to deny the food was given, actively avoiding it, as if he didn't trust the food that was given to him. Lilia just found it annoying that after he had spent so long trying to cook the messed-up recipe, Silver wasn't eating it.

"You are very stubborn," Lilia pointed out. "Did you get that from your mother perhaps? I hope not, as I do not know how to appease a human child."

Elva, who was cleaning, noticed. "You have followed her recipe?"

"I would have if it wasn't so soaked when I came down."

"It was?" Elva questioned and checked the recipe. "Oh. That's unfortunate. I hope you found something that was close or…read it."

Lilia shrugged and tried again, but he found food on his face as he looked back. Silver began to smile at his action, hands covered in the food Lilia cooked.

"..Should've seen this coming," Lilia groaned. "..alas, I cannot get mad at you, Silver. I just wished I wasn't your target of food waste."

"Now I am worried about what you put in that baby porridge," Elva admitted, giving Lilia a face towel. "He isn't like that on occasion. And yet I worry about him. If he rejects that food you made, I wonder what makes it so….,"

She glances at Lilia's bowl in horror, "Why is it charred? Porridge is not supposed to be burnt."

"It said something about warming up the porridge, but once again, the paper is soaked beyond reading, Elva."

"That does not explain why it's like smoked meat," Elva sighs and takes the bowl from Lilia. "I am lucky enough to remember this recipe within my memories, or else we would've been in horrible trouble when Wisp gets home or worse if Holly sees this."

"That's true, I wouldn't be here if Holly found this out." Lilia gulped.

"I still cannot fathom you messing up porridge, one of the simplest meals for both humans and fae." Elva muttered back in the kitchen.

"Don't blame me, blame Wisp and her stupid soaked paper. Why did she not check?"

"Wisp is just as old as you, and her eyesight is not always the best," Elva spoke. "Cut her some slack. Pretending to be human is not as easy as we thought."

"It's only been a year," Lilia picks up Silver. "Right, Silver? We've been taking care of you since you were born, huh?"

Silver laughs and clings to Lilia. It was clear that Silver grew closer to Lilia than everyone else, mainly because Lilia was the first Silver saw when waking up, and his gift of bonds helped. Also, Lilia knew most parental tricks that no one could figure out yet, but being with Prince Malleus has given him the experience he needed.

Afterward, Elva fed Silver perfectly warm porridge, which Silver ate without much of a problem, and Lilia found it completely betraying.

"We're back," Wisp announced, holding a basket of new foods.

"Oh, welcome back, you two," Elva greeted. "How was the village?"

"The usual," Holly answered. "People come and go. Compliment or insult you, in and out."

"Does not sound thrilling," Lilia scoffed.

"And look, you made the porridge recipe I created," Wisp grins. "How is it?"

"Uh, Wisp? About your recipe," Elva gulped.

"About it?"

"Somehow, it got soaked, and we couldn't read it," Lilia explained. "This led me to fail, and Elva created a new recipe as she feared I was going to poison Silver."

"You were!" Elva remarked. "The porridge was chared and tasted awful. Good thing that Silver has got some good instincts, or else who knows what would've happened to him?"

"I don't intent to poison him," Lilia pouted.

"Well, calm down now," Holly laughs. "We bought some extra food for you and Silver. And a book of new recipes for all of us to prepare for each other. Now, let me put these away, and we'll discuss lunch and dinner."

Holly smiles and takes the food into the kitchen, which is now in the kitchen. They hum as they start to put the food away and notice the previously mentioned recipe.

"Wisp, I thought we agreed you would get glasses?" Holly reminded.

"Human glasses are expensive for a fae like me, and besides, I do not need them, do I?"

"Dear, your recipe was covered in water when we left, and Lilia couldn't read it. You did leave it for him, after all." Elva mentioned.

"Ok, I am not that bad at cooking," Lilia huffed.

"We know, but if this does continue, you might be banned from the kitchen," Elva pointed out. "After what happened today? I do not simply trust you with the food or the kitchen."

"But Silver is safe and unharmed by my unfortunate attempt," Lilia argued. "And look, he's perfectly healthy now."

Lilia took Silver from his baby chair and held him.

"I know you're not mad at me, Silver," Lilia laughed. "I am your favorite after all."

Silver smiles and nuzzles against Lilia.

"Hey, we do not play favorites here," Wisp pouted. "But it's unfair how Silver likes you the most out of the four of us."

"What can I say?" Lilia grinned. "I just have the fatherly charm about me that no child could resist. And look, Silver's back asleep."

"Already? We just fed him to."

"Sleep children need their strength, after all," Lilia joked. "Such a delicate soul."

⚔️Silver: Age 5⚔️

"Malleus, I do not worry about Silver's reaction to you," Lilia spoke. "He's very understanding towards you."

"You have told me, Lilia, but I shouldn't be anywhere near them," Malleus gulped. "If he remembers me as who I am, then I have every reason to be afraid."

Malleus was invited to meet Silver per Lilia's request, mostly in secret, due to the queen's insistence that Lilia would be killed on sight for his treachery and betrayal. It made Lilia more sure of his decision to stay behind and take careful precautions.

"Trust me, Mallues," Lilia sighed. "Only I reside here for the day as the other went to town. And we can simply chat while Silver is taking his little nap."

Malleus nodded as they walked inside to chat.

After Lilia's unfortunate betrayal, according to Malleus, the Mistress has made a law that if the traitorous general ever sets foot in her kingdom again, he will be captured and killed for his treachery. However, after those 5 years, The Mistress has become very bitter and isolated in her castle as her search for the young children is fruitless.

She had started to punish those who spoke back to her without much of a thought behind them. It wasn't new by any chance, but it seemed that anything would set her off, even small mentions of Lilia would send her into a massive fit. Lightning would surround the kingdom and cause those to hide in fear.

"I'm just happy that you are safe from her wrath, Malleus," Lilia expressed. "I am surprised that you have passed by Baal. He did replace me as a general, did he not?"

"He has but after hearing that he has a grandchild now, he is quite preoccupied with him as he turned four years old today. I am lucky enough to go past his guards that he trained harder than you, Lilia."

"Harder than me?" Lilia laughed. "Doubtful."

Lilia sipped his tea, "I trained Baal for the first 100 years of my life as a general. So, how bad can his training be?"

"Oh, harsh," Malleus answered. "Much more harsher than I remembered from you."

"No one is harsher than I," Lilia boasted. "I trained those men, including Baal himself. But as I know the Zigvolt Bloodline, they can be incredibly stubborn and strong-willed, so frankly, Baal overtraining the guards is not surprising."

Malleus laughed at that. He found it refreshing to talk to Lilia once again after merely 5 years, with little to no contact from either side. Malleus only met up with the young child as a baby, though short, he managed to bond with the small human he was willing to call his younger brother.

"Indeed."

Faint footsteps walked downstairs, and there was Silver, who was awake and now staring at both of the fae.

"Good evening, Silver," Lilia greeted. "How was your nap?"

"Good." Silver meekly answered.

Silver goes over to Malleus, trying to figure out what to say, but the horns are the only things he's distracted by.

"Are you interested in my horns, little one?" Malleus asked, putting his teacup away.

"Are you a friend of father's?" Silver pondered. "I have seen you before…but I can't remember."

"Lilia, you have not mentioned that you have taken the parental status, including the naming," Malleus looked back in amusement. "I thought you weren't going to."

"It was an accident," Mumbled Lilia. "Once he started, we couldn't stop him."

"I am Malleus, and what's your name?"

"Silver," he mumbled. "Can I touch your horns, Malleus?"

Malleus smiles and nods.

Silver got onto Mallues's lap and started to admire the horns on his head, carefully using his hands to touch his horns. They were too big for his small hands, which made Malleus chuckle.

"They are enormous, hmm?" Malleus smiled. "Much big for such small children's hands such as yours."

"I like them," Silver spoke. "They're very beautiful. And they're like lizards, but..softer almost. And they…..I just like them!"

"Why, thank you, Silver," Malleus blushed. "You must love new things about faes."

"Father told me stuff about faes, and he told me about you often." Silver explained. "And I like it when he tells me stories before bed."

"Ah, guilty," Lilia smiles. "Silver…had accidentally found out about us as faes so that we couldn't lie to him anymore after that; with his age, he would just talk back if we tried."

"Talkback, Silver?" Malleus chuckled.

"I don't like liars," Silver whispered. "…but! Can we play together? Like show me your magic or play hide and seek?" Silver jumped happily.

"I do not see why not," Malleus laughed. "As long as it's alright with Lilia?"

"Of course," Lilia beamed. "Just be careful. The woods can be a bit much around this time of year, and no going into the Enchanted forest at all."

"I'm old enough," Silver protested.

"You will go over once you are 10 and once you know how to defend yourself," Lilia spoke up. "And besides, most magical and mystical beings aren't used to humans in their woods yet, and they can be very mean and trick you."

"Trick me? Father.."

"I know you are not a baby anymore," Lilia finished. "But you are still my son, and I prefer you safe and sound than in danger, alright?"

"Trust me, Lilia, as long as I keep an eye on him, he will not depart into the woods alone," Malleus spoke, taking Silver's hand. "And we will have fun together."

"Alright, don't let this old man stop you," Lilia joked.

Lilia watched as Malleus and Silver departed to the backyard. He went over to the window and began to watch.

He watched how Malleus was able to raise Silver and laugh along with him. It was nice to see Malleus bonding with a human, despite his grandmother's warnings against them and them being the cause of the kingdom's loss of his mother. But Malleus didn't have that, that cold resentment that The Mistress had held for many years after Mealnoa's death.

Lilia felt sadness and happiness as well. Seeing a fae with a human made him smile. Silver was full of laughter, which, in turn, got Lilia to chuckle.

"Mallie!" Silver laughs. "Your magic tickles!"

"It's supposed to," Malleus grinned. "Fae magic does not hurt unless it's used to harm people, and that is unfortunate for some people."

"Father says Faes do not often like humans. I still wonder why."

"Well, why do you so, young Silver?" Malleus asked, curious to hear the young child's thoughts.

"Well, maybe because we, as humans, don't understand magic," Silver pondered. "I mean, I didn't understand it at first, but it's something you learn to understand."

"That's very insightful for a boy your age, Silver," Malleus managed to say.

"You asked for my thoughts."

"Indeed, I did."

Malleus laughed and picked Silver up, holding him close.

"You have so much more understanding of Fae culture despite your young age," Malleus spoke up. "You should remember that someone like you is what we need in the world, humans and fae. Not many accept us like you do."

"Well, I like you and Father," Silver beamed up. "And my relatives, too."

"Maybe one day I will take you to Blair Valley, where all the lovely magical creatures live together, and I'm sure they'll love you as much as we do," Malleus cooed. "Shall we go back inside? I heard Lilia is making us some amazing food."

Silver sticks his tongue out in disgust, making Malleus laugh.

"I agree, Lilia's cooking is far from perfect."

Silver smiles and snuggles Malleus.

That night, Silver sleeps on his bed, holding onto his stuffed animal. Malleus couldn't help but just watch with admiration for the young child, but the dread of the future made him scared. He knew he softened the blow of the curse, but he wished it didn't have to come that way. Silver and Amore did not deserve the curse that his grandmother did and Malleus always will forever feel responsible.

"Malleus?" Lilia whispered.

Malleus looked back at Lilia, who had a candlelight in his hand.

"Lilia, the guilt," Malleus almost sobbed. "It's right here. I cannot help it; I know it is not my fault, but my connection with my grandmother hurts my heart. Such a sweet child like him already understands and adores us yet has no idea that a fae has harmed him. And I wish I could do more to help."

"Malleus, you are helping so much, and I'm so happy that you are here and have always supported me," Lilia whispered. "Without you, those boys would die at 18 or even younger. Silver is already feeling safe with you around here, and if something happens to me, you'll take care of him and protect him."

"What do you mean?"

"Malleus, I feel it. The Mistress, I feel she has put a curse on me for betraying her and it's affecting me somehow. I feel more tired, and weaker, and my magic seems to be dwindling little by little, but it's not something I should worry about at this moment, what would happen in the future? I hate to leave Silver so young."

"If that is the case, Wisp, Elva, Holly and I will promise to take care of Silver."

"And that's why I trust you so much, Malleus," Lilia grinned. "I am so proud of you."

Malleus wipes his tears, looking down at Silver once again.

After a while, Malleus left, leaving Lilia alone in Silver's room, soon falling asleep, scared to leave his son's room.

Deep into the night, Lilia woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air. He had just had a nightmare that felt all too real. In the dream, he was fighting a horde of monsters, but no matter how many he defeated, more kept coming. He felt overwhelmed and unable to escape.

As he sat up in bed, he took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. It was just a dream, he reminded himself. But the feeling of dread lingered.

He got out of bed and walked to the window, looking out at the night sky. The stars were bright, and the moon was full. It was a peaceful scene, but Lilia couldn't shake off the unease he felt.

He wondered if the dream was a sign of something to come. Perhaps there was a battle on the horizon, and he needed to prepare himself. Or maybe it was just his subconscious mind playing tricks on him.

Either way, Lilia knew he wouldn't be able to forget the old battles in his old days as the Mistress's General, but those years turned out to be an experience that he did not want to feel again.

The sounds, the touch, the scars, everything he remembered, he could still see or hear, regardless if he wanted to or not. The days of violence left a mark on him, and sometimes, it shows with his words, his actions, and his reflexes to such normal things.

But the day he scared Silver was the worst day of his life. He had never felt so guilty scaring a human in his life as a general fae, but that broke him. He grew so close with a human that he would never do anything to scare the young boy, and that day proved that.

Wisp often teased him that Lilia had claimed Silver as his son, and now Lilia agreed with the statement, even saying that he was better than the royal king and queen themselves. A harsh claim, but a real claim all the same.

A love so dear that it created such a bond between a human and a fae was so rare that Lilia never thought he could ever have with a human, let alone a beautiful baby he blessed.

Meeting Silver was a beautiful memory that he will never forget.

⚔️Silver: Age 12⚔️

"Have you gotten everything?" Holly asked as they wrapped Silver's scarf around him. "And I trust you'll be home before dinner?"

"Of course, Guardian Holly," Silver smiles."I promised you that nothing will harm me."

Lilia looked over and laughed. "Holly, he will be with Malleus and we both know how much Silver and Malleus can protect themselves."

"I would feel better if you were to accompany us, Lilia," Malleus sighed. "I know you trust me, and I do appreciate it, but I worry that well," Malleus just paused. "That they won't be nice to humans, let alone Silver."

Silver pouted and rolled his eyes. "I am not a child anymore, Father."

"Oh, we know," Lilia grinned. "I just hate leaving my sweet son alone."

After much more convincing, Silver and Malleus walked down the path, hand in hand.

Malleus leads Silver to a beautiful path, full of flowers blooming as they walk across. Silver looks around in amazement, his hand only grazing on the petals, fairy dust flying in the air. Silver gasps and sees a fairy fly past him, and more come by. One even stops and kisses his cheek, at which Silver giggles.

"Flower fairies are very sweet, and they love sharing their flowers with others."

"Really?"

Silver looks around more as small mushroom people quickly scutter against him, clearly outstanded seeing a human nearby.

Silver smiles and waves at them with a smile.

"So amazing," Silver beamed. "Everything is so beautiful here, and I can see and feel things I've didn't think I could ever expereince.."

"I should say the same, being with humans," Malleus agreed. "You have opened my eyes to see natural things happen and how humans solve problems with much magic, either. Though I wonder how humans do it, I am not completely sure how Lilia does as well. I mean, him still pretending to be human has created some hilarious moments."

"Only you think it's fun," Silver laughed.

"Then why laugh?"

"You have a point."

Malleus grins and leads Silver deeper into the woods, looking, watching Silver almost running off in excitement, gasping and greeting every single mystic folk he came across. He always had a bright smile on his face as he looked around, which made Malleus happy as well.

"Lilia has raised this human right," Malleus spoke to himself. "How he see things and befriend things that most do not want to do and fear. He is not like them at all."

After a while, he watched as Silver began to bond with the forest Gollums, the protectors of the Mystical Forest. They began to take small flowers that were planted on them, and they began to create a flower crown for the young human.

Silver was appreciating his overwhelming welcome, but he could hear something in the distance, like someone in distress. He can feel something is wrong and waits for an opening for him to investigate.

That opening was seeing Malleus speaking with one of the Gollums, which gave him enough time to walk towards the noise, which grew louder as he grew closer.

It sounded like someone was begging for someone or something to leave them alone.

Then it ended with a splash.

He rushed to see a boy his age, trying to stay afloat, as the river's waves tried to push him away, but he managed to hang on to a nearby boulder. He was trying to lift himself up, but the river was strong due to the pixies over it.

Silver was warned about those pixies and rushed to help the boy, offering his hand.

"Hold on!" He cried. "Grab my hand, quickly!"

"I don't want to drown," the boy whimpered, shaking.

"I won't let you go," Silver urged. "Please trust me!"

The boy lifted himself again and grabbed onto Silver's hand immediately, with Silver helping them up.

He wrapped his scarf around the drenched boy and used his hands to swat the naughty pixies away, making the river calm down once again.

"Are you ok?" He asked, going back to the boy.

"Y-yeah," The boy had coughed. "I-I didn't know pixie were that mean."

"To humans, yes," Silver agreed.

The boy coughed again and took off Silver's scarf, letting him sigh in the sunlight, his golden hair reflecting the light.

"I'm glad you're ok," Silver sighed in relief.

That relief turned into discomfort as he noticed the boy was staring at him, shocked.

But Silver understood why.

They both shared the same rare eye color, aurora. Silver felt like looking at a mirror, even with the only difference being the boy's golden and curly hair compared to Silver's straight and well, silver hair.

"You look like me..?"

[onesidedradiostatic]

Does Lucifer make use of Alastor living in the hotel to make more accurate models of him for Vox’s commissions?

yes

[lovelettersfromluna]

Dream Girl

Summary: Did you seriously think you’d be able to get over someone like Ellie Williams? Think again, dream girl.

an: I’m so obsessed with this series and the portrayal of Ellie, there’s just something about a small town romance that scratches the sweet spot in my brain. I hope you guys have enjoyed this one just as much as I have! Thank you so much for all of the support 🤍

Warnings: smut! MDNI!! 18+, tribbing (another tribbing fic by Luna?? Ofc do you not know me by now?), lots of kissing, sub!ellie if you squint, angst, mentions of another love interest, mentions of cheating, reader sucks Ellie’s fingers, pet names, unsure and closed off reader, pls lmk if I missed anything!

Read part 1 here!!

You watched from your bed as the gentle wind blew your lace curtains further into your bedroom, the birds chirping as the early morning sun slowly rose, cascading a warm glow into your room, making you squint your sore eyes with a soft groan.

With the slow rise of the sun came the constant reminder that you’d spent yet another night without catching a wink of sleep, lying there as you allowed your thoughts to carry you to places you wished didn’t exist.

Places of your ex wife, the bitter taste of your marriage still lingering on your tongue, reminding you of everything that could have been, everything that was lost due to lust.

Places of Ellie, the person who stole your heart first. You think of everything that could have changed had you not gone to the city, how your life's outcome would have had such a great shift due to one tiny change within the line of events that made up who you were, and what you did with your life.

It all leaves the whole in your heart feeling bigger, wider, swallowing up so much of the tiny organ that it almost felt there was nothing left of it.

It had been only a few days since the last time you saw Ellie, and the memories of that night still lingering in you brain, hanging heavily in your mind, stopping you from focusing on anything but that.

Because as much it felt good to kiss her, you haven't even been divorced for a year, and the conflicting feelings that you had for Ellie, paired with the newfound distrust and heartbreak that came from your recent marriage caused a storm in your head, heavy clouds swirling about in the confides of your mind and making it heard to think, hard to breath.

It was all just too fucking hard.

But you knew life was different now. You weren't a teenage girl that could run from confrontations for her own comfort. You were a grown up now, experiencing grown up situations that called for grown up reactions. So you knew that you needed to talk to Ellie, no matter how much it hurt to even think about facing her right now.

You weren’t even entirely sure where to start. Texting her was an absolute no, despite how much easier it would be to confront her that way, behind a screen would do a great job at cushioning the blow that came with confronting Ellie. Calling fell under the same category, she deserved much more than a measly phone call from your end with the intention of patching things up.

Which left only one option. You had to see her in person.

You sighed softly as you sat up in your bed, looking over at your phone resting face down on your bedside table. You hadn’t touched it since that night, avoiding the device all together in fear that you’d see any messages or calls from the worried girl.

So you aren’t surprised when you finally pick it up to see just that. Ellie didn’t pry, there were about three phone calls and four messages, all of which came across far too understanding and supportive for someone that had been kicked out mid make out session a few nights prior.

You inhale deeply before you open up your messages with her, and begin typing.

Hi

I’m sorry I haven’t responded.

Are you busy today? Can we meet up? I feel we need to talk

You practically hold your breath until she responds, which doesn’t take a very long time because the minute you send your first message, she’s read it and already typing out her message back.

Hey, don’t apologize. I was just worried about you

Ofc we can meet. Farmers market is opened today, you wanna check it out?

You don’t even realize it, but her messages are making you smile the second you read them out. Probably because of how easy Ellie makes things, how hard it is to make things awkward with someone as kind as she is.

That sounds great.

I’ll meet you there

Cool :)

Despite the small amount of anxiety that has alleviated when you’re finished texting her, you know this is only the beginning, the easy part of a conversation that will be much harder to have, much harder to explain when you aren’t even sure how to navigate your feelings as it is.

But there was no use in putting it off any further, so you’re quick to get out of bed, brush your teeth, haul on a pair of old blue jeans and an old band t-shirt and make your way out to your car to meet Ellie in town.

It’s almost impossible to have a sour mood in a place as magical as your little town. The moment you got into your car, the warm sun soaking into your skin made you take a deep breath, allowing yourself to clear your head for a second before making your way out into town.

Your mom was right, the sun can cure more than you thought.

You hadn’t even realized it was Sunday, which meant it was your towns tradition to hold the farmers market in the town center. You used to look forward to it so much as a kid, knowing it would bring out the best of the people that lived here, showcasing the talent every person had.

Some people sold clothes that they made by hand, pieces that could only be made with love and care, something you often missed seeing in the city. Others sold jewelry, so delicately crafted it was almost unbelievable that someone was able to create something like it.

But your favorite? Was the food. Different pastries baked by the hands of men and women, recipes passed on from generation to generation to continue to breath life into the traditions that made up your town, tying one another together with a single cake or pie.

It was almost like magic.

You catch yourself smiling as you walk down the strip of stands already getting into their sales. Your heart warms at the sight of familiar faces, aged but still happy. You notice new ones as well, like when you approach a stand you remember being up when you were kid, one of which sold your favorite sweet rolls.

Your attention is far too occupied with chatting up the familiar curly haired girl at the stand, the same one that your visit when you were a teenager, eager to her mothers famous pastures. You’re surprised to see that there’s now a baby on her hip sporting the same head of spiral chocolate brown locks sprouting from her head, giggling and kicking excitedly as you introduce yourself, grabbing the babies hands as you catch your with her mom.

Ellie had arrived not long after you, standing nearby as she smiles fondly at the way the baby quickly becomes enamored with you. Watching you play with kids was something that always made her heart flutter with joy.

You giggle softly as she hands you both pastries, giving her a nod as she begs you to come visit her and the sweet baby more often. You hum softly as you struggle to push both your receipt and your phone back into your purse, groaning softly to yourself as you fail to notice the sudden looming presence that falls over the, gentle hands opening your bag wider as they aid you in putting everything away.

“Here, lemme help you” Ellie breaths out gently, her voice alone making you freeze as your eyes trail to her body to land on her face that was suddenly very close to yours.

She chuckles when she notices you staring up at her with wide eyes, nodding her head down to your bag.

“Come on now, would hate to make you drop those” she hums as she mentions the pastries in your other hand. You blink a few times before you clear your throat, giving a quick nod before you push your things into your bag with her help.

“Fuck…sorry…I…um…” you struggle to speak, adjusting your bag on your shoulders as you watch the girl step back with a soft smile.

“No worries, you alright?” She questions, neck craning down a bit to get a good look at you, her own big green eyes staring into yours, making it hard to breath.

God, this was going to be much harder than you thought.

You inhaled deeply, opening your mouth to speak before closing it, looking down at the sweet rolls in your hand before outstretching your arm to hand one to her.

“I bought this for you…I figured you hadn’t eaten yet so…” you mumble out softly, watching as she stared at you for a moment before looking down at the perfectly packaged baked good in your hand.

Her heart warming at the mere thought of you thinking of her in that way.

She smiles softly before she nods, placing her hand on the small of your back as she began guiding you out of the small strip of stands.

“So sweet of you…c’mon, there’s some places to sit right up this way” she suggests, giving you a small reassuring smile as she leads you there.

Somehow it seems perfect. The sun, the birds chirping, the little shady spot that Ellie leads you over to, covered by the biggest tree with the prettiest flowers slowly drifting down from above. It’s truly something out of a dream….

It made you wish this was all a dream.

You let out a soft sigh as you sit opposite of Ellie on the wooden bench, your fingers toying with the paper the pastry in front of you is wrapped in. Ellie frowns as she watches you closely, knowing the expression far too well. She could see just how much you were in your own head, how the events you two shared prior lingered in your mind, making it hard to focus on anything.

You couldn’t even look at her, and she hated that.

She inhaled deeply before she reached a hand out, gently placing it atop yours.

“I hope you didn’t bring me out here to apologize…because you don’t have to” her words are soft, and sweet, and it makes your throat get tight because she shouldn’t be so kind to you after what you did, after the way you treated her.

You don’t respond, so she takes the opportunity to keep talking.

“I get that things are probably hard…and I shouldn’t even have kissed you that night…so I’m sorry” she tries again, and you scoff softly before shaking your head.

“Don’t…don’t apologize” you mumble out before you inhale deeply, finally looking up, only not at her, at the scenery around you both.

“I caught her in our bed, with some girl she worked with” you mumble out softly, fingers mindlessly running along the rough surface of the wooden table.

“I probably should have seen it coming….but I think I wanted things to work out so badly that I just ignored it” you shrug slightly as you explain before you finally look over at Ellie, who’s already staring intently as she listens to you.

“Ellie I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, or to think that I’m using my divorce as an excuse for what I did, for what happened between us….but I just need you to know that I’m hurting, and it’s just….hard for me to open myself up to something like that again after what happened” your voice breaks as your emotions threaten to give you away, chin wobbling as tears pool in your eyes.

But you don’t let them flow free. You don’t want to cry anymore, not over this.

“I…I just need time….” You silently beg, beg for her to understand what it is you’re going through, what it is you’re experiencing.

It scares you when she doesn’t answer right away, her green eyes scanning your face as she takes it all in. It’s a lot, and you know that, but there’s a tiny part of you that begs for Ellie to do what she does best, which is tell you exactly what you need to hear.

She blinks a few times before giving you a nod, paired with a soft smile. “You don’t even have to ask….you know I’d understand no matter what”

You inhale deeply as you watch her, her gentle eyes, her soft smile telling you that all would be fine. It make your stomach churn because you feel like you don’t deserve it, you feel like she deserves so much more than what you’re giving her.

You two haven’t even addressed what actually happened that night.

There’s nothing more to do than to simply smile back at her. It’s weak, and it isn’t much, but it’s all you can mange right now.

Ellie smiles softly at you before she looks down at the rolls in front of you both. “As good of a baker that Mary Beth is….i think we need some real food” Ellie hums out softly before she swings her leg over the bench to get up, nodding her head towards a small diner nearby.

“Come on. Let’s get something to eat” she suggests, holding her hand out for yours.

She notices the way your eyes linger on her calloused hand, unsure of whether or not you should take it, unsure of what signals it would send if you did.

You were unsure of everything. Unsure of Ellie, yourself, your own feelings. Nothing felt solid enough to trust, and you hated that someone like Ellie could make you feel that way, even though you knew that it wasn’t her that was making you feel that way, but rather what happened to you instead.

She can see it, she can see right through you and for a moment her frown mimics yours before she it turns into a soft smile.

“As friends” she affirms gently.

She sees a flash of something ripple through your eyes at this when you finally look up at her, something she doesn’t want to read too much into, something that she knows she can’t dive into for your own comfort, and perhaps even hers too.

A moment passes before you crack a weak smile, placing your hand into hers before you nod. “Yeah…as friends” you manage to make out weakly before grabbing the things off the table, shoving them into your bag and leaning into Ellie’s warmth as she guides you to the diner.

Ignoring the bitter taste left on your tongue at the way Ellie assured you that she was your friend, and nothing more.

Your mind was in absolute shambles.

It had been a few weeks since the farmers market with Ellie, and truthfully all had been well between the two of you. You both ate together, talked, laughed, you were even able to talk about your divorce, explaining to Ellie how you felt, what it had done to you, and she listened to it all, nodding along to your words, giving you the advice you didn’t want to hear, but very much needed. For a moment it was easy to forget all about the tension that had settled between you both, the thoughts that plagued you were finally silenced as you allowed yourself to just simply be.

That was until you got home.

The second you were in your bedroom, lying there, staring up at the ceiling, memories of that night began to flood into your mind. You could feel it all so clearly, Ellie’s hands on your body, her lips pressed against your mouth, gasping for air, her tongue sliding against your own. Her words echoed throughout your mind, desperate pants and moans of how she needed you, of how you needed her.

You couldn’t sleep a wink.

It felt as though you hadn’t even talked to her, as if things hadn’t glossed over to where they were okay, a point where things were fine between you both. They were, but the feelings you had were still there. You thought that if you had at least talked to Ellie, explained to her what you were feeling, it would give you a head start on where to go with sorting out your own feelings.

None of that ever came.

Your body yearned for a moment of peace from the issues at hand, you wanted to feel the same way you felt when you were sat at the diner with Ellie, her laugh and her sparkling smile distracting you from the things you were feeling.

But you knew you couldn’t turn to her for a distraction, you couldn’t use her to occupy your mind from facing things that you’d much rather ignore. That wasn’t fair to her and it would only hurt you further in the long run, lengthen the grieving process of the death of your marriage.

You couldn’t do that to Ellie.

You could however, go somewhere that you knew would clear your mind the moment you were there.

The low hum of your car engine shuts off as you pull up to the familiar clearing, a gentle smile on your face as you can already hear the gentle stream of the water the moment you’re stepping out of the car.

The old creek was one everyone in your town treasured, a tiny glimpse of paradise in the confides of your backyard. It was where all the seniors would go for senior skip day, and where families would visit to spend the day with their children. If there was any place that the people of your town would be during the summertime, it would be the creek.

And rightfully so, the waters sparkled like nothing you’d ever seen before, the shady trees hiding the spot away like a secret that belonged to you and only you. You had many fond memories of the place, ones with your family, your siblings, your old friends from school.

Ellie.

You and her would visit the spot any chance you got, diving into the cold water the moment you were there. You could recall the moment you two first found out, thinking it was a secret only you two shared, just to find out your parents had been visiting when they were your age as well.

Regardless of the fact that it didn’t belong to you two, it felt like it. A small piece of the world that you and Ellie could call your own, sharing secrets there with one another, Ellie pushing you off the old swing tied up to one of the trees before she swung in soon after, diving in and holding you close to her chest as she promised you’d be together forever, for as long as you both lived.

The intensity that you both shared as teenagers often made you laugh. What a silly thing for two teenage girls to say who have barely experienced the world out there.

You let out a gentle sigh as you rugged off your denim shorts after setting your spot up. A small blanket settled down with your bag, your old camera and a few books, clearly having every intention of staying the entire day, swimming to your hearts content.

Once you’re stripped of your clothes, your body only clad in your old bathing suit, you waste no time in making your way down to the water, shivering slightly once your toes hit the cold water, wiggling them in the process.

You’re convinced swimming in the small body of water has to have some sort of mystical healing properties, because the moment you’re diving your head under, eyes examining the aquamarine world that is below the surface, your mind is clear. It makes you feel like you could live there, swimming amongst the different underwater caverns and the fish, creating a whole new world below as the little mermaid you always dreamed to be.

Your mother always told you she thought she’d given birth to a little fish when your father first took you swimming.

It’s so easy to lose track of time when you’re like this, floating around in the water, letting its coldness wrap you up and swallow you whole. It’s almost comforting how quiet it is, the only sounds being the gentle stream of the water, the wind rustling against the tree leaves and the frequent sound of the birds chirping to let you know that you weren’t alone, letting you know they were there with you.

You don’t even realize it but you’ve spent hours swimming about in the small pond, the grumbling in your stomach finally stops you for a moment to actually think about anything other than swimming, forcing you out to lay out onto your blanket and dry in the sun, occasionally popping the sweet berries into your mouth you’d brought from home.

The book you’ve brought with you also silences the outside world, allowing you to flip from page to page without thinking of anything but the regal characters that seemingly had much more to worry about than you. What a world it would be to wear uncomfortable dresses and attend balls in the hopes you’d find the perfect husband.

What would they think of your divorce?

It makes you snort to yourself, a gentle hum leaving your lips as you flip another page, unaware of the sudden sound of feet crunching against the grass slowly approaching you.

The high pitched sound of your name being called rips your attention away from your book, furrowing your eyebrows a bit as you cup your hand above your eyes to shield from the sun, trying to get a good look at who it was that was disturbing your peace.

“I didn’t think I’d be seein’ you here! What a surprise!” Lilac chirps out, her curly hair tied up into a perfectly styled bun, tight coils framing her face as she clutches her towel to her chest.

You hadn’t seen her since the night Ellie took you out to the Copper Cat a few weeks ago, the girl not lingering on your mind much as you had much bigger fish to fry. You were honestly a bit shocked that she’d even remembered your name.

You give her a gentle smile as you sit up, your legs folding to cross one another as you give her a small smile.

“Good to see you Lilac….going for a swim?” You ask her, watching as the girl takes the spot right next to yours, her blanket fitting perfectly up against your own as she gives you a confident nod.

“Mhm! It’s too hot…bless Ellie’s heart for sharin’ this place with me. Don’t know what I’d do without it” she chirps out as she tugs her own denim shorts off, leaning her in the cutest little bikini.

You know she doesn’t mean it in the way that it sounds, bragging about being introduced to the small clearing by your ex girlfriend, and you knew that it was only in due time that this place was mentioned to her by someone in your town, making sense that Ellie would do it first since that’s just the kind of girl Ellie was.

But there’s just something that tugs at your heart at the thought of it all. Ellie mentioning this place to her, the two of them coming down together, alone, Lilac adorned in another one of those adorable bikinis she had to show off to Ellie her gorgeous body as they play in the water together.

Something about Ellie sharing the spot you two shared with someone else that just rubbed you the wrong way.

You inhale deeply, trying to calm your nerves as you remember that this girl owes you nothing, Ellie owes you nothing and Lilac has been nothing but kind to you from the moment she met you.

Giving her a gentle smile as she settles down next to you, you nod. “It’s pretty great out here…I’m surprised it isn’t so packed. Seems we got lucky” you give her a nod before you sigh, turning your attention back to your book.

She smiles fondly as she watches you turn your attention back to your book, her neck craning down a bit to get a good look at the cover, gasping softly once she realized what it was you were reading.

“You read those too? I love them! I just finished the first two” she beams, a soft hum leaving your lips as you look up at the girl, raising your eyebrows at her comment.

“Really? Most people think they’re super corny” you pout softly as you turn the book over to look at the cliche cover, which only earns a firm head shake from Lilac.

“Honey I’m a hopeless romantic, I daydream more than I actually try talking to people” she giggles out softly, giving you a gentle shrug.

Her words make you chuckle softly, gently closing your book as you toss it to the side before sitting up to mirror her posture, crossing your legs as you suddenly give her your full attention.

“You’re a hopeless romantic? But…Lilac you’re gorgeous. I wouldn’t be shocked if you have every single guy here desperate to get a chance with you” you confess, which only makes her shake her head as she gives you a shy smile, gently shoving your knee.

“Don’t you dare! I’m awful at talking to people” she pouts out, her eyes dropping from her own as she stares down at the flowers on her blanket, delicate fingers tracing the patterns gently as she lets out a gentle sigh.

“If I’m being honest…it’s not the guys here that I want…” her words trail off softly, and it makes you pout softly as you eye the girl, seeing how whatever is on her mind is clearly bothering her, plaguing the girl just as much as what was on your mind.

You open your mouth to ask her about it, feeling bad about whatever she was going through, but she’s quick to shake her head and put on a bright smile once she looks back into your eyes. “But let’s not get into that! M’glad you’re here to join me today” she breaths out, her voice sweet and genuine as her eyes soften.

And it makes your heart rate finally slow down, seeing just how genuine the girl seemed, how happy she was to be there with you regardless of the fact that you were as good as a stranger to her than anything more.

You smile softly as you nod, leaning forward and placing your hand on hers, giving a gentle squeeze. “Don’t mention it, Lilac” you hum out softly.

If there was anything you didn’t expect to do today, it was to have made a new friend, especially one in Lilac. The two of you spent the entire day down at the creek, laughing together, swimming together. The more time you spent with her, the more you realized just how much in common the both of you had.

Being completely honest with yourself, she had more kindness in her pinky than anyone in the city ever did.

The sun has set, and the breeze blew against your warm skin as you leaned against your car, Lilac in front of you as she made yet another joke that had you throwing your head back as you let out a loud laugh.

“Stop I feel the same way! I always wondered what happened to him” you gasp out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as you lean back to shove your back into the passenger seat of your car. Lilac giggles softly as she nods, her arms crossed over her chest as she swatted away the mosquitos slowly began to swarm around you both.

“He’s still an idiot, some people never change I fear” she groaned out, a prominent pout on her perfect lips before she cocked her head to the side, smiling fondly at you.

“Ellie was right about you, you know? You really are somethin’ special” she breaths out, and it has your eyes going wide at the mention of the girl. It makes you realize that you hadn’t thought about her all day, not since Lilac had joined you.

It makes you wonder what other things Ellie had said about you.

You whine softly as you bring your hand forward to nudge her playfully. “Shut up….you’ll blow my head up” you warn the girl playfully before you sigh softly, looking over at the sun that was slowly bur surly setting, the once warm glow that casted onto you both disappearing.

“Ahh I should get going…we shouldn’t be on the roads too late” you breath out softly, turning towards the girl and giving her a small smile, only to see a sad one on her face.

You frown softly as you watch her, leaning forward and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Hey? You okay?” You ask gently, suddenly worried about the girls shift in her mood.

She lets out a gentle sigh before she looks down at her feet, kicking around the gravel below before she lets out a soft hum. “I know we don’t know each other well…but…I feel like you’ll be my only help with this” she admits to you, her eyes still casted downwards before you assure her with a soft voice. “Of course you can..” you mumble out softly.

She finally looks up at you, taking a deep inhale before she gives you a half smile. “I…think I like Ellie” she breaths out, as if she’d been keeping it held in for so long, as if finally telling you was letting a weight off of her shoulders.

Letting it off of hers and slamming it down onto yours.

You find it hard to breathe, because suddenly you’re shot back to the first night you met Lilac at the Copper Cat. Ellie’s hand on her waist, hers on Ellie’s arm as she whispers in her ear, the two of them matching one another far more than you felt you could’ve ever matched Ellie. You feel threatened, and it sets a fire off in your chest, and you feel like the world is crumbling around you as this beautiful girl admits her innocent feelings for your ex girlfriend.

When you don’t speak, she continues.

“And I just…you and her are so close, so I was hoping maybe you could give me some advice? Should I go for it? Do you…think she’d like me back?” She asks hopefully, twiddling with her fingers nervously as she watches you closely, awaiting your response.

You stare are her blankly, your body working on autopilot as you try to work your way through this. Seeing her that night felt like it might’ve all been in your head, especially when Ellie ran out after you and left the moment you were ready, but now this is all real. This is Lilac confirming that what you felt was real, and this was the reality of coming back to your hometown, more specifically your ex girlfriend.

And as you stand there, trying to figure out what the hell to say to this girl, you can only see someone doing the same thing that you’re doing. She’s a young girl, looking for love in this crazy fucked up world, and she’s unsure of herself. Someone as beautiful as her is unsure of herself and you could only wish that someone would have guided you when you were pursuing your ex wife, a third party bystander giving their advice and helping you through it all.

Because as much as it kills you? Ellie deserves love, and so does Lilac, and if they find it in one another, who the hell are you to take that away from them.

The both of them owe you nothing.

You inhale deeply before giving her a soft smile, nodding as you reach out to give her arm a gentle, assuring squeeze. “I think Ellie would be thrilled to be with someone like you, Lilac….you should go for it” you breath out genuinely, watching as the girls face lights up with joy with your confirmation, an excited squeal leaving her lips.

“I was hoping you’d say that! You’re an angel” she squeals, reaching forward and grabbing you up into her arms as she gives you a tight hug, swaying back and forth as she tucks her chin into your shoulder.

You can practically feel the happiness radiating off of her.

You smile softly as you nod, wrapping your hands around her as you hug her back before you hum. “You didn’t need me…you’ll be great on your own” you assure her before you pull away, giving her a reassuring nod.

She smiles brightly as she nods before she lets out a loud sigh. “Right…get home safe, alright? And text me! We can hang out sometime this week” she sings out as she gets into her car, giving you a wave as she begins pulling off.

And suddenly you’re left there all alone, with the newfound thoughts that are swirling about in your head. You know already that you won’t be able to sleep, not with the mental image of the two of them dancing around in your mind, forcing you to face reality, face the facts that time moves on with or without you.

But you were tired of being left behind, you were tired of being the last one to know things, the one broken heart in a sea of mended ones.

Driving off in your car from the creek gives you time to think, the cool breeze kissing your skin, pushing your hair back as the radio plays your favorite songs, creating somewhat of a perfect scenario to think things over rather than running from them.

While it all hurts, you know that there’s no use in standing in the way of Lilac or Ellie or whoever for that matter. Life would continue moving, and in that meant new love would be found, for both you and Ellie, it just felt like that wouldn’t happen for you in the moment, even if you knew it would.

But you were going to move on from this. And you were going to be fine, no matter how long it took for you to catch up with the tracks of life that seemingly always got the best of you.

There’s something therapeutic about hanging up the laundry on the old clothes line in your backyard.

You used to make fun of your mom all the time when she did it, telling her that there was a perfectly good dryer inside that would take less than half the time to dry the clothes than they did outside, not to mention less work when it came to picking them in.

However as you’ve grown older, there’s something so simple about walking outside with your basket on your hip, the gentle smell of detergent blowing into your direction as you pin up several articles of clothing, your white sheets, anything that you’ve washed, that tickles your brain in the best ways.

That, and the fact that these days you’ll take any task to fill your brain with thoughts other than Ellie or your ex wife.

Things had been fine. You spoke to Ellie here and there, dropped dinner off at Joel’s house that you knew he made sure she got some of whenever you made extra, you even made time for Lilac within the week as well. You’d picked up a small job in town as well, working at the cashier of a small floral shop that had been in town from you could remember.

So although your mind drifted to places you didn’t often like, life was fine. Life was slow, and life was good.

Lilac constantly gushed to you about Ellie, talking about all the progress they’d been making, asking your opinion on the girls behavior, which you always tried your best to help with. Although the strange thing about it all, was you heard nothing from Ellie about the situation. She didn’t mention anything about Lilac, not even when you brought it up.

It wasn’t long until you began distancing yourself from the both of them, knowing how hard it would be once they became official and you had to live life in a world where they were together.

Because although you were doing okay, the wound was still fresh, and you had to keep your peace.

You hummed a gentle tune softly as you continued hanging up your linen on the line, enjoying the feeling of the cool summer breeze against your skin, the dandelions dancing along through the air as they became loose from their stems.

The sound of your fence creaking open cuts right into your thoughts of housework, forcing you to turn around as you hang up another one of your sleep shirts, a soft smile on your lips when you catch sight of the familiar tall brunette walking into your backyard, both her hands shoved into the pockets of her denim jeans.

“Ellie…didn’t think you were coming over” you sigh out softly as you clip the end of your shirt up, continuing to hang up your clothes regardless of her being there.

“Was in the neighborhood….I thought I’d stop by” she breaths out, eyes taking in your form as you continue with your chore.

Her voice seems like something is bothering her, and you catch onto it the second she utters her first syllable. You know already why she’s here, to question you about your sudden absence, wondering if things were okay with you or not, worry clear in her tone.

“You…haven’t been around lately” she mumbles out, that same worried tone laced throughout her words.

It was just as you suspected.

You frown, thanking the task of laundry that hides your expression from her. It’s so much easier to lie to Ellie whenever you’re not looking into her eyes.

“Oh…I’ve just been uh…dealing with some stuff” you’re quick with the excuse, clearing your throat before you turn around to give her a soft smile. “I’m fine…honest” you give her your best attempt at a reassuring nod before you turn back to your laundry.

You have to turn away from her quickly, because you can see from the small glimpses you get of her that she’s frowning, and her brows are furrowed together with something that’s bothering her.

You hope she’ll leave after you tell her you’re fine.

But she doesn’t. You don’t hear her respond to your words, or even turn around silently to go about her day. You hear nothing behind you, only the sound of your white sheets wafting through the wind, drying on the line before you.

You frown when you look down to see your basket is empty, and the task of pinning up your clothes is no longer present to hide you away from Ellie.

So you need to get rid of her.

You inhale deeply, picking up the old basket and placing it on your hip, putting your most believable smile on your face before turning around, finally locking eyes onto the girl to see something that makes your heart sink.

It looks like she hasn’t slept, prominent bags under her pretty eyes, pouty pink lips chapped, most likely picked and bit at out of anxiety, a bad habit you knew she had whenever something was bothering her. Your heart tugs at the image, wanting nothing more than to pull the girl down into a hug, consoling her and telling her that whatever was bothering her, would be fine.

But you can’t. Because things aren’t the same anymore.

You inhale deeply before you nod your head towards your back door. “Well…I have lots to do inside…more house work…dinner” you explain, trying your best to hint at Ellie leaving without having to say so.

“Did I do something wrong?” She finally makes out, her words a clear plea to understand the situation rather than a half mumble that she’d rather not say.

It makes you furrow your eyebrows, watching the girl with a confused look as you try to understand her.

“Wrong? Ellie…I’ve barely seen you. What could you have possibly done wrong?” You try, confused of the sudden outburst from the girl.

Her eyes are stormy, hazy and hard to read. Her brows are knit as she looks down at the floor before looking back into your eyes, a prominent frown on her face.

“Why would you tell Lilac that there’s something worth looking for between her and I…why would you…” her words trail off, as if she wants to say more, as if she wants to persist with knowing why you would have done such a thing.

And soon it all starts making sense.

You wish Lilac wouldn’t have said anything. You wish she wouldn’t have told Ellie that you were the one that told her to go for it, even if she was the one that asked in the first place. You wish she would have just pursued Ellie without any mention of you, because was that even necessary? You know she must have done it to gush about you even further, the girl becoming enamored with you from the moment she saw you, and even more so once you two became closer.

But for the love of god…did she really have to tell Ellie that you were the one to tell her to go for it?

You open your mouth to speak before you sigh softly, your hands squeezing the handles of your clothes basket before you speak. “I….she spent the day down at the creek with me and when we were about to leave she told me she liked you…and she asked me if I thought she should pursue you” you explain with a shrug of your shoulders, which only makes Ellie scoff in disbelief.

“And you told her that was a good idea?” She argues back, as if it were the dumbest thing you could have ever done. She says it as if it were common knowledge to tell the girl other wise, you raise your eyebrows when she says this.

“Yeah? Why not? Lilac is…she’s fucking gorgeous Ellie. Anyone would be lucky to have her, and you should be happy I put you on with someone as great as her” you mumble out as you slip past the girl, clearly done with Ellie and this conversation as you walked up the wooden steps leading to your back door.

But Ellie isn’t finished with you, because she’s quick to follow behind, closing the door behind you as you make your way into your laundry room to set your basket down, your hands going to your hips once you turn around to see the girls built figure standing in your doorway.

“Ellie come on…I have things to do…you need to go” you huff out as you slip past her once again, going off into your living room to start on the dried laundry that needed to be folded, hoping that the girl would simply drop it and leave.

“You know I understood you the night after the show, and I was more than willing to give you all of the space you need, but this feels like you’re playing some sick joke on me” she’s standing over you now, watching as you try to ignore her in favor of some pillow cases that needed folding.

“Is pushing me into the arms of someone else your solution? And ignoring me until I’ve forgotten all about it? Is that the plan? Is that seriously what you think it’ll take to get rid of me?” She tries again, her voice pleading with you at this point as she watches you ignore her.

But this time you done, your hands drop to your lap as you stare up at her in disbelief before you toss the pillow case to the side, standing up opposite of her.

“I never had a plan! Lilac asked me a question and I was honest with her. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be happy with someone else” you explain to her before you finally feel as though you’ve had enough, a huff of annoyance filling the silent air as you round the couch to slip away into the kitchen.

Before you’re fully there, Ellie’s voice is echoing off the walls.

“But I can’t be happy with someone else!” She shouts out, her arms flailing up inti the air before dropping down to her side, the sound of her palms slapping against her jeans before she sighs.

You stop dead in your tracks when you hear that one, your back still turned to her.

“How could I possibly be happy with anyone else when you’re all I fucking think about….” Her voice is tired, and it’s almost as if she’s begging you for something, something you are not capable of, something you cannot give.

Begging for you.

“From moment we had our first kiss….to the moment I said goodbye to you before you left for the city…I’ve only ever wanted you” you can hear her getting closer, slowly making her way towards you as you stand there at the edge of your kitchen, frozen, silent, unable to say anything to her as she confesses these things to you.

“It’s pathetic, and I’ve tried to suck it up for your sake because I know….you’re going through a tough time after that moron did what she did….but I can’t fucking hide anymore” she breaths out, and it sounds the same exact way that Lilac sounded when she admitted to you that she had feelings for Ellie those nights ago.

Your back is still turned to her, and you know she’s right behind you because her smell fills up your lungs and makes your eyes roll to the back of your head as you try to fight all of it back, everything that you’ve done, all that you’ve worked through from the moment you got home to get to the point that you were at currently.

But you feel all of it break the moment Ellie’s strong hand grips your shoulder gently, sighing softly as she speaks.

“Look at me….please angel…” she begs, her skin wafting onto your neck as she tries her best to fight the urge to grab you right then and there and kiss you.

When you finally turn around, her heart breaks, because the whites of your eyes are red, and there are heavy tears pooling at the edge of your eyes, making them sparkle in the warm light of your kitchen, looking so beautiful yet so tragic all in the same time.

Her chest tightens as she leans in to cup your cheek, fighting back the urge to groan as she inhales deeply. “I can’t…I don’t wanna pretend like I’m not still in love-“ you’re quick to cut her off, your tears spilling out onto her cheeks the moment you hear the word.

“Don’t…don’t say it” you warn her with shaky words, struggling to even speak with the burning sensation in your throat.

You don’t think you could handle it, hearing those words fall from someone’s lips again, the fear rising the moment they hang from Ellie’s, flashbacks of you’re wife at the alter, promising you everything and more before she kissed you and whispered in your ear that she loved you.

It’s scary, and it makes you feel terrified of Ellie.

Before she can carry on even further, trying her best to convince you that her words are true, silently begging you to hear her out as her wide green eyes stare down into yours, you’re cutting her off.

“I told you already Ellie…I’m not….i can’t do this again. I can’t give myself to someone like I did with her” your voice trembles as you explain, her vision blurring with tears as you try your best to swallow them all back.

She licks her lips as she stares down at you before she shakes her head. “I get it….I get that you’re hurting from what happened, but I can’t keep going on without you knowing anymore….” She starts to explain, both of her hands coming up to cup either side of your face, forcing you to look up at her.

“I’ve….god I’ve longed for you from the moment you left after high school. There was not a day that went by where I did not think of you for even a few seconds. And I’m sorry for what happened, and I understand if I’m just a childhood fling for you, but I’d rather you tell me that then try to push someone else onto me to distract me from what I’ve felt all these years” she rambles on, nearly stumbling over her words as they all bubble up to the surface, overflowing and dragging you down with her.

You open your mouth for a moment before closing it, looking far too similar to a fish out of water as you try to find the words to say. What are you even supposed to say? Are you supposed to lie to her? Tell her that you haven’t felt the same way? But now it’s different and it hurts to even try to envision yourself in a relationship with someone let alone pursue them? Even when it’s Ellie?

Your Ellie?

She watches as you struggle to speak, her eyes searching yours for even a sliver of hope that this will work, that her confession will bring you to a point where you can both meet, where things can be okay again.

And if they can’t? She needs to hear you say it out loud.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same” she deadpans, hands dropping from your face as any hope she might have had slowly drains out, fizzling out of her system as she watches you simply stare up at her, a mere shell of the girl she once knew.

“Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll never bring this up again. We can move on from this and we can be friends. I promise” she breaths out, feeling the air slowly leaving her lungs, making it hard to breathe.

You feel the exact same way. You feel like the world has stopped around you both as images of your life swirls around your head.

There’s images of your ex wife, taking the privilege of love from you, ripping your heart out of your chest and walking away with it the moment she decided to cheat on you. It hurts, and it burns and it feels like something you’ll never recover from, something that leaves a wound so deep, that it will never grow the familiar leathery skin that it’s supposed to, creating a scar that acts as merely a memory for what happened, for what you endured.

And then there’s something sweeter in the corner, so small that if you pay enough attention to the hurt in your heart, you don’t even notice it.

It’s memories of Ellie. Sharing your first kiss with her, going to prom with her, spending late nights with her in your bedroom talking about the future, spending time with one another that will leave sweet memories in your mind till the day you die. It’s soft, and it’s easy and it makes your insides flutter with excitement at the mere thought of her by your side.

As you’re looking over all these parts of you, standing in your kitchen with Ellie and staring up into her eyes, you make a remarkable discovery.

You realize that if you try hard enough, the pain that comes from what your ex wife did doesn’t hurt as bad, long as you’re focusing on the feeling that Ellie gives you.

Because when you’re with Ellie, you feel nothing but love.

You lick your own lips as you stare up at her, inhaling deeply before you shake your head, feeling your throat burn with tears before you speak.

“I can’t do that….” Your words trail off for a moment before your eyes drift down to her strong hands, missing the feeling of her skin pressed against yours.

You slowly reach forward to take her tattooed hand into yours, your fingers dancing along the intricate details of the leaves on her wrist before you interlock your fingers, finally looking up at her as your eyes well up with tears for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“Because I….feel the same way” you breath out, watching as her sage colored eyes glimmer with happiness, a gentle sigh of relief leaving her lips as she quickly moves her hand to cup your face, her other reaching down to hold onto your waist, pulling you close to her body.

“Jesus…c’mere” she practically moans out before she smashes her lips against yours in a passionate, love filled kiss.

You giggle softly, your hands wrapping around her wrist as you waste no time in kissing her back, arms coming up to loosely wrap around her neck as you press your chest against hers, reveling in the feeling of her lips pressed against your own.

You hummed a gentle tune to yourself as you mixed up the pitcher of lemonade, far too deep in thought to pay the bustling party behind you any mind.

One of your favorite parts about the summer time was the cookouts. There was something about nearly the entire town coming together at someone’s house, enjoying the warm weather, the bright sun and good food, that made your heart burst with excitement.

You were just about ready to make your way to your backyard with the others, when you felt a firm hand sliding against your waist, smoothing down over the fabric of your flower sun dress and pulling you into their chest.

“Don’t you think we have enough drinks baby?” Ellie hums out softly, pressing her lips against the base of your neck, making you giggle softly as you lean into her.

“It’s almost 100 degrees outside, Ellie…I don’t think too many things to drink is even a possibility” you explain before you turn around in her arms, smiling softly at the firm as you wrap your arms around her neck, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of her lips.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the grill? You better not burn all that food I bought” you playfully pinch her shoulder, which only makes her groan softly.

“It’s too hotttt….wanna be inside with you” she whines out, resting her head against your shoulder as she gently sways with you in the kitchen.

You hum as you nod, your fingers toying with the short hair at the nape of her neck. “I know baby….but your father will be very upset if he doesn’t have at least one beer with you…come on pretty girl” you hum out to her softly, your hands sliding down to hold her around her middle before giving her a gentle pinch near her ribs, which makes her yelp out as she pulls away, a prominent pout on her sun burnt, freckled face.

“Fine…but come out with me” she huffs out, leaning in to give your forehead a kiss before she makes her way outside, making you giggle softly.

You sigh softly to yourself, placing the lemonade on a small tray paired with some already filled red solo cups, and a few empty ones on the side that you knew would be getting filled up shortly after you brought them out. You had to move slowly with how full they were, groaning softly to yourself as you tried your best to not let them fall as you tried making your way through the crowd of people in your home.

“Oh honey let me help you with that!” You hear Lilac chirp out as she quickly comes behind you, pressing her hands against your waist before taking the heavy pitcher off of the tray, making you sigh in relief once you saw the girl.

“There you are! I was starting to think you wouldn’t show…” you pout out, smiling softly as the girl leaned in to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, which you were quick to lean into as well.

She giggled softly as she groaned. “Did you know that this party of yours is causin’ traffic out there?? Everyone’s dying to come, I almost ran out with the rollers still in my hair” she explains, making you giggle softly as she opened up your back door for you.

After everything happened with you and Ellie, you were terrified of what would happen with Lilac. You felt like you’d robbed the girl of something she wanted without even trying, even after being the one to tell her to go for it! Even after Ellie assured you time and time again that Lilac was always one to get innocent crushes on everyone, and that she’d get over it in no time, you were still scared that you’d lose the girl as a friend after just making her one.

You were quickly proven wrong when you met her in town a few days after, texting her and letting her know you had something to tell her. Instead of her being upset about you and Ellie, Lilac was thrilled. She grabbed you and hugged you, and told you that she even wanted to celebrate with you and Ellie, explaining that her crush was as innocent as could be.

And before you could even realize, Lilac had become your best friend.

You giggle softly as the children practically jumped you once they saw the tall pitcher of ice cold lemonade, frantically grabbing the cups and chugging them down before running off to play in the sun.

Catching sight of Ellie with her father and a few of her coworkers makes your heart flutter, and you decide to fill up a few more cups of the cold drink as you make your way over to them, a soft smile on your face.

“Lemonade anyone?” You chirp out softly, all of them taking them gladly before Ellie slung her arm around your waist, pulling you into her side as she pressed a kiss to the side of your head, carrying on with her conversation.

You don’t miss the way Joel smiles fondly at the two of you over the edge of his cup.

And later that night, when everyone’s left and the house is cleaned up, you lay with Ellie in your bed, the cool breeze blowing in through your windows, your bedroom illuminated by the white light of the moon.

You’re tucked away into Ellie’s side, your thigh hooked over her body, one of her hands rubbing along your skin and massaging your leg, the other looped around your shoulder as you stare up at her lovingly, your hand dancing along her t shirt clad chest.

“Did you have fun today?” You question softly, which earns a gentle smile from the girl before she looks down at you, giving you a slight nod.

“The best time baby….haven’t seen so many people gathered around for a party in a long time…you did good angel” she breaths out before she leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, which makes you smile warmly.

But the warmth doesn’t just settle in your cheeks.

A simple kiss from your girlfriend makes it travel down your body. It warms your throat, your chest, your stomach, traveling all the way down until it settles right in between your legs, making you clear your throat to bite back a whimper.

Ellie frowns softly when she notices this, pulling away to look down at you as she continues massaging your thigh. “Something wrong princess?” She questions, slight concern lacing her tone as she watches you with furrowed brows, her expression clear in the light of the moon.

When you and Ellie first started being romantic again, she promised you she’d take things slow. Your relationship only went far as kissing, a few gropes here and there, but nothing further than a steamy make out session that ended once Ellie tapped your thighs and forced you off of her lap, fearing that she was pushing you too far.

At first it was extremely considerate of her. It was true, intimacy was a bit hard for you at first, somehow thinking of your failed relationship every time you tried, blaming your self for not pleasing your wife enough.

But as time went on, those thoughts were virtually silenced. You didn’t even have the capacity to think of anything but Ellie when her tongue was down your throat, the feeling of her big hands on your body, and her toned thighs pressed between your legs.

So now…God…you needed her more than anything.

You were almost embarrassed to even say it, but it was getting to a point that anything Ellie did was setting you into a frenzy. Just today, her toned arms in here wife pleaser and her denim jeans made your head spin, and your panties cling to your needy core.

Her frown deepened when you didn’t answer, the girl turning over a bit to better face you before her hand came up to cup your cheek. “Baby? What’s the matter?” She questions once again.

You finally let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you reach up to grab her wrist gently, keeping her close as you avoid looking into her eyes.

“I….need you Ellie…need you so bad” you sigh out softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Her frown only deepens further as she stares at you down in confusion. “Need me? But angel I’m right-“ her words are cut off when she feels your grip on her wrist tighten, and your thigh hikes up her body further, pressing your core against her side.

Her eyes widen in realization.

“Fuck…” she breaths out, watches as your eyes flutter open to stare into her own, yours filled with want and need as your other hand moves down to hold onto her exposed hip gently.

“Are you sure baby? We can…fuck…we don’t have to…” she struggles to get out, eyes glued to yours as she watches you.

You shake your head before you gently pry her hand from your face, bringing her fingers down to press against your lips before you sigh. “I’ve thought about you every day since I’ve left Ellie…of course I’m sure…” you sigh out softly before you open your mouth, taking her pointer and middle finger into your mouth as you slowly suck them in, moaning around them.

Ellie lets out a soft moan as she watches you, feeling her own clit pulse against her underwear as she quickly grows warm with a need similar to yours.

“That’s my girl…fuck….been needy huh?” She moans out, making you nod before you roll over to straddle her, her other hand coming down to grip your hip softly, massaging your skin through the fabric of her own t shirt draped over your body.

You let go of her fingers with a pop before you stare down at her, a soft smile on your face as you move down to press your lips against hers, wasting no time in pushing your tongue into her mouth.

The kiss is slow, and sensual and dirty and it’s everything you’ve wanted and needed since your divorce. It’s nothing like kissing your ex wife, but it’s everything like kissing Ellie. The noises she makes has your head spinning, and it forces you to roll your hips down onto her, which makes her moan even louder into your mouth.

“Fuck…want you to…wanna feel your pussy on mine baby…can you do that for me?” She questions out desperately, her hands roaming your body, pushing her t shirt up on your to reveal your tits.

Ellie had it all planned out. She wanted it to be romantic, she wanted to take things slow and show you just how much she loved you, just how serious she was about you. She wanted you to feel loved.

Oh did her plans not go as planned, but oh how you felt so fucking loved.

You nod eagerly, sitting up and tugging the t shirt off, tossing it somewhere in your room. Ellie moans loudly at the sight of you above her, hands reaching up and cupping either one of your boobs, pinching and rolling your nipples between her fingers.

Once she’s had her fun, you climb off of her for a moment, tugging off her panties, giving her time to tug her sleep shorts off as well, leaving you naked and her bottom half bare. She’s feverishly tugging you back onto her lap, allowing you to tug her t shirt off.

And the feeling of your bare chest pressed against hers makes you moan loudly, your lips coming down again to press a needy kiss to hers, filled with tongue and teeth as you both situate yourselves.

The moment comes quickly, your legs slotted between hers perfectly, pussy right on top of hers as she stares up at you with low, hazy eyes, strong hands gripping your thighs and your ass as you slowly began rolling your hips so that your throbbing clit bumps against hers, making the girl beneath you moan loudly as her back arches and her eyes flutter shut.

“F-fuck! Oh my….fuuuuckkkk…that’s it baby…fuck yourself down onto my pussy…oh my….ha-fuck” she moans out, voice going hoarse as her strong fingers press firmly into your skin, sure to leave marks in the morning.

Your moans mix with hers, paired with the sound of your sopping wet pussies sliding against one another, a symphony of erotic love making that has been a long time coming. It’s like the two of you let out every raw emotion that had been bottled up for all those years you spent apart, her longing, your hurt, it all mixes together to create something of a beautiful love song that belongs to the two of you, and no one else.

“Ellieee…fuck! Feels…feels so good..” you moan out, picking up the pace as you feel your orgasm growing closer and closer by the second, your bed creaking with every thrust of your hips.

Ellie can’t take it anymore, moving to sit up as she grips both of your hips, aiding you in riding her pussy faster before she gives you an encouraging nod. “Come on baby…cum with me, yeah?” She sighs out breathlessly, staring up into your eyes passionately as she feels her own orgasm growing closer.

You wrap your arms around her shoulders, keeping her closer as you moan and whine, eyebrows furrowing with pleasure as you struggle to make it there, struggle to not let the pleasure get the best of you.

Your heart feels like it’ll just burst.

“I…mmm…fuck….Ellie I love you…I love you so much…” you moan out, eyes fluttering shut as you feel right on the brink of your orgasm.

“That’s my fucking girl…I love you so much baby…more than you’ll ever know…” she moans out to you.

And suddenly, you see colors.

Your chest feels like you’ve been struck by lightening, struggling to even stay upright as your orgasm ripples through your body violently, your forehead resting against Ellie’s as your arousal mixes with hers, both of your orgasms so intense, so powerful, it feels like it’ll kill you both right then and there.

The come down is hard, because it’s almost sorrowful to no longer feel the amazing feeling that comes with making love to Ellie, but the feeling of her strong arms wrapping around your middle and keeping you close is almost better, her lips pressing against your collar bones and chest as you both breath hard, the room silent compared to the noise that once filled it.

She holds you there the entire time, whispering how much she loves you, promising you that she’ll give you everything you could ever want and need.

And while you’ve heard all of that before, just for it to end in shit….

You believe her, because this time? It’ll be different.

[honeyryewhiskey]

we’ve been loving in silence 𖤐 dean winchester 

【 pairing 】 dean x fem!reader 【 summary 】 you’re a bartender in sioux falls, dean tends to stop in whenever he’s in town. you’ve played this game of touch + go for going on a decade now. when he stops in tonight, looking particularly worn out and tired, it’s you he’s searching for a restitute in.  【 genre / warnings 】 smut, explicit language, unprotected piv, needy dean, teasing/begging, aftercare, some plot, mdni, 18+ 【 wordcount 】 2.9k inspired by this song ⤜ we’ve been loving in silence by MARO ⤛ 

you knew the moment those heavy boots waltzed into your bar that you’d be here, stumbling into your dark apartment tipsy and high on his charming energy. you cross the threshold with dean’s calloused palms stuck to your hips. he nips at the side of your neck, making you giggle as you lose your balance. 

“i don’t think you’ve stopped touching me since we got out of the car.” you quip, peaking over your shoulder at those brilliantly green eyes. 

“mhm,” he hums, gently peppering kisses on the soft skin behind your ear, “can you really blame me, sweet girl?” his voice is damn near smokey at this hour in the night. rolling into your body like electricity as you notice even the faintest grunts of impatient desire emanating from him. 

dean effortlessly kicks the door closed behind him, using it to lean on as he pulls you in closer. turning within his grasp, you snake your arms around his strong neck and look up into his hungry gaze. his eyes dance across your face, memorizing each feature with complete admiration. 

“i’ve missed you, sweetheart.” he breathes, barely audible even in your closeness. he always calls you pet names, but you’ve noticed they leave his lips more frequently after a night of honey whiskey. 

“me too,” you smile, unable to deny the relief that left your soul when he came in tonight, “i was worried something happened to you, something permanent this time.” you confess, biting your lips and feeling anxious to express your concerns to mr no strings attached. but you’ve known each other for so long, known what his life is outside of your nights of drink and pillowtalk. when you spend months in radio silence, the fears begin to scream from the corners of your mind. 

“i know, baby, it’s been too long.” he sighs, bringing his hand to your jaw and running one of those large thumbs across your lips. “but i’m here now.” there is a quiet pleading in his words, one that you take to mean leave it, leave those thoughts at the door. and as always, you do.

pushing onto your tip toes, your eyes flutter closed as you collide your lips with his. he groans at the sudden connection, taking no more than a few milliseconds to deepen the kiss. lips messily moving against each other in a needy want. he pulls off your jacket without breaking contact, quickly moving his hands down your body and swiftly lifting you up, your legs wrap around his waist instinctively. 

dean turns your bodies so that it’s your back against the door now. “i need you,” he whispers on your lips, “i need this.” 

his pleas send a heat straight to your core, ricocheting through your body and leaving goosebumps in it’s wake. a mindless whimper escapes you. god, you’ve been starving for the touch of this man. 

your small verbal cue was enough for dean to take exactly what he’s craving. he carries you from the door and into your small apartment. despite not having been here in months he navigates through the dark rooms with ease, distracting you with nips and kisses across your collarbones. you don’t even realize you’ve made it to the bedroom until he lowers you onto the end of the bed. 

you watch with a love drunk gaze as he towers over you, and you can’t help reaching out and tracing the muscular outlines of his lower abdomen while he busies himself with removing his shirts. “you’re a true marvel to see, dean.” you confess, peaking through your lashes to watch how quickly he tries to hide his embarrassment from such a compliment. though you only meet with him in moments, you learned fairly early on how deeply wrong this gorgeous man is about himself. since then you committed to a secret promise to yourself that you’d do your best to acknowledge his beauty whenever he’s near. 

his charming toothy smile is back, “there you go again, being too sweet to me.” he teased. he takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, lips puffy and red from grazing his stubble in the sloppy kisses. your shirt tousled from his constant pawing. he leans down to become eye level, those thick lashes framing such vibrant green irises. “lie back for me, baby.” he murmurs, watching carefully as you follow his gentle command.

it isn’t often you get such a soft side of dean, hell, for years it was highly erotic work the two of you did on these nights. but you can sense something has change in him. maybe it came with age, or the constant reconciliations with life and death he faces on the road. he never shares too much, so you’ve learned to notice the smallest expressions in him to decode what might be going on inside that caged mind of his. 

as of right now, all dean could think about was devouring the sweetness he’s missed over the past few months. 

he gets to work undoing your belt, next the buttons of your jeans until he’s tugging both your bottoms and panties from your body. a satisfied sigh leaves his mouth as he looks over your half naked body. his eyes flick up to your shirt, clearly needing that off, too. so he hooks his thumbs and pulls it over your head, discarding it with the rest of the clothes. hovering over your frame, he trails kisses from your jaw, down your neck and across the plump part of your breasts that stick out of your bra. 

“i need to see all of you.” he rasps against your skin, sliding his hands between your back and the bed to swiftly unlatch your last piece of clothing. 

his hands lead the way down your sides, straight to the sensitive skin between your thighs as he pushes them apart. kneeling at the foot of your bed as if to pray, he works his mouth teasing the areas around your arousal, making the budding heat morph into need. 

you arch your back as his rough hands slowly slide up and down the sides of your legs, sending shock waves into your core, “please, dean, touch me.” you quietly plead. 

“easy, sweetheart.” he responds and you can feel his grin against your thigh as his lips inch closer to where you really want them. he loves this game, warming you up and getting you to quite literally begin to melt before he lets himself devour. 

his uses one arm to anchor himself, large palms squeezing the thick of your thigh while his other hand travels down past your navel, pressing his thumb against your clit as he works gentle circles. too gentle, you think. you want more, need it. 

“dean,” you breathe out, impatiently wiggling under his touch, “please.” 

with a groan his mouth replaces his thumb. sucking and lapping at your sensitive skin as you feel a wave of relief and bliss wash over you. you lose all sense of humanity as you become a mess of whimpers and moans. your sounds fuel his hunger, working you more aggressively with his mouth as his middle and ring finger tease your entrance. lazily sliding in and out, barely pushing in. 

“more, now.” you breathlessly demand. dean lets out a short laugh, pulling away from your heat. the sudden cold making you damn near writh beneath him. 

“beg.” he teases, and you look down to see those green eyes glowing with amusement. 

“please.” you manage, his eyes don’t leave your gaze as he lets his fingers tantalizing massage your clit.

“hm?” he hums, raising an eyebrow, completely indulging in the way your hips buck for more fiction.

 “please, dean.” you groan, throwing your head back against the mattress in defeat. your mind is swirling with a deep need for more of him inside you, on you, touching you in the ways only he can do. 

with a satisfied growl his lips are back to working pure bliss against your clit as his thick middle and ring fingers curl into the warmth inside you. you’re not even sure how his fingers are capable of thrusting against that sweet, aching knot inside the way they do. 

all you can do is squirm and whimper as he loses himself in pleasing you.

“fuck, dean,” you gasp as everything inside tenses and tightens, his lips pull and suck while his fingers plunge deep quickly. like a skeleton key finding it’s lock, dean presses into your dam and the floods break with ease. 

the release rolls through your body, soaking his face and fingers in your climax. you’re left shivering as he pulls away to stand over you. sucking on the fingers he just worked inside you, his face glimmers with pride of just how good he is at undoing you. 

“god, i missed that.” you sigh, catching your breath as dean undoes his belt and kicks his jeans off. his eyes take in every inch of your body as he pulls out his thick cock, working it in his hands. just watching him makes your core begin to ache all over again. 

“on your stomach, princess.” he commands, and you eagerly oblige. sticking your ass up with your thighs pressed together, just the way he likes it, and he appreciates you remembering. 

you felt the mattress dip under his weight as he centers himself behind you, shoving his bulging tip between your skin until it reached your sore clit, the heightened sensitivity making you moan and pathetically hump his cock, desperate for another release. his hands squeezed each side of your ass, applying more pressure to where your bodies meet. 

you rock against him, circling and bucking, trying to reach that itch, but it wasn’t enough. he knew that, but watching you use him like a toy was mesmerizing. 

“mm, please, dean.” you found yourself begging again, “i need you inside me, i need you to fuck me.” 

“fuck.” he groans. pulling away just quick enough to plunge inside, sending his entire thick length in, triggering a gasp from your lips. 

the sudden stretch sent a chill throughout your body, making you melt further into the bed as he fell into a mind numbing rhythm. wet skin slapping against each other cut through your shared symphony of moans. 

“baby, you’re so god damn tight.” he professes, squeezing your hips as he bucks harder into your cunt. his sickeningly deep voice paying such vulgar compliments made you twitch and hum. 

dean’s hand slips it’s way past your navel and straight to your clit, working messily fast circles as he coaxes another release from you. your thighs squeeze together as another knot formed in the pit of your stomach. 

“don’t stop, dean, please.” you begged, grabbing his wrist as if it could keep you grounded while he fucks you into senseless oblivion. his other hand presses into the small of your back, deepening your arch and allowing his tip to reach your sweet spot. 

he thrusts against that spot again and again until you’re making a mess all over him, whimpering and chanting his name like it was an invocation of the divine. 

your shameless release under his doing and hearing his name leave your mouth made dean’s head spin, feeling your walls tense around him turns his rhythm into a sputtering mess.

“fuck, baby.” he groans, his mind falling into a euphoric emptiness as he came inside you, bucking with the aftershock into a seeping wet mess. 

completely fucked out and weak, you collapsed onto the bed. your eyes watery and heavy as you blink yourself back to earth. dean’s warm hands rub up and down your back as he trails kisses across your shoulder blades. 

he didn’t want to walk away from you, have to look away from the beautiful mess he made of you. but, he knew better than to flop over and fall asleep like he did the first time you two shared a night together. then again, he was much younger and more selfish, and he had yet to grow so attached to you. something he would never admit to your face. but a part of him, buried away with the rest of his hope, wondered if you could sense how much care he had built up in the years he’s spent getting to know you in these visits. 

as dean left the room, you used every ounce of strength left in you to crawl up to the pillows, relaxing as you wait, knowing exactly what he was getting up to in the bathroom attached to your room. 

after a few moments, dean returns to your side. “waters warm,” he cooed with a smile, “just the way you like it.” 

you giggle, sitting up “you sure do know how to treat a woman right, winchester.” 

“only the ones i really like.” he responds, that gloating grin making you roll your eyes as you follow him into the shower. 

 ⤜

 the warm water felt incredible on your skin, enveloping your tired body as dean stood over you, his fingers massaging your scalp as he works vanilla scented conditioner into your hair.

“is this shit why you always smell so good?” he wonders aloud, and you could just see his face in that cute puzzled expression of his, despite facing the opposite direction. 

“yes,” you laugh, “my body wash is cookie butter scented, too.” 

“ah,” he sighs, “makes sense. wait, is that on purpose?” 

“what do you mean?” you ask, turning to face him and let the water rinse the sweet soap from your locks. 

“well, i mean, i always wanna take a bite when i’m around you.” he grins.

“are you saying you want to eat me, dean?” you tease, collecting more conditioner from the bottle and reaching up to rake it through dean’s hair. 

“well,” he began, an eyebrow lifting as that familiar smug expression graces his features, “i already have.”

you pinch his arm in retaliation, shaking your head at his smart mouth. 

“ow,” he feigns, rubbing the spot your fingers were. “hey, can’t say you hated it, right?” 

“rinse your hair, asshat.” you chime, switching places. you take notice in the way his arms flex as he works the conditioner out of his hair. his muscles have certainly grown over the last few months, and you try not to wonder what kind of bad he’s fighting to make him get stronger. 

“oh, aren’t you shameless, sweetheart.” he chuckles, winking before he continues, “checking me out while i wash the girlpoo from my hair.” 

“the girlpoo?” you echo, brows knitting in amused confusion.

“yeah,” he states plainly, “girl-sham-poo.” he emphasizes each part of the words as if that makes any sense of what he’s said.

“dean, it's a conditioner. and,” you smile, “can’t say you hate it, right?” 

“shut up.” he retorts, sending a playful glare. you smile at his usual go-to when he can’t find a way to give slack back. he reaches over and turns off the shower, grabbing the two towels he prepared earlier and handing one over. you internally cringe at the way he barely wipes any water off of his body, stepping out into the bathroom and leaving puddles in his wake. some things never change.

entering your room, you ruffle through the dresser draw packed with sleep clothes until you find your favorite big shirt to slip on. turning, you find a naked dean already beneath the covers, watching you. seeing him in your bed again reminds you of a time before. 

“do you always sleep naked?” you ask, snuggled into the comforter, lying just inches from that gorgeously crafted face.

“no,” dean sighs, “i actually am usually dressed, or close to it when i sleep.”

“why?” you ask.

dean pauses for a moment, those sweet green eyes clouding under whatever memories tumble beneath the surface, “i guess i can’t sleep any other way, always have to be ready.”

you consider his words, you still don’t fully understand the world he lives in but you’ve been trying to, “but not here?”

this earns a smile from the tired man, “no, not here.”

“hey, is that my shirt?” dean’s question disrupts your thoughts, bringing you back into the quiet of your dark bedroom. you look down, scanning the worn out t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in for years now.

“i think so, actually,” you respond, “from… what, ‘08? that time you spent almost a whole week with me for a reason you still have yet to tell me.” 

dean pauses, knowing damn well why he didn’t tell you. and he wasn’t going to now, either, because the last time he told you about his dance with life and death you went on a rant about how even dean winchester himself isn’t invincible, be careful, stay alive, and whatever else you blubbered out like a scolding parent. he wasn’t in the mood for it tonight.

“yeah, don’t remember.” he grinned, lifting his arm to invite you in, “care to join me?” he asks. 

rolling your eyes at his avoidance, you slip into the blankets. his arm finds your waist, pulling you close to his body. 

he brings a hand to your face, stealing a soft kiss before wrapping his arm again, tucking you into his chest. you somehow did forget the way dean cuddles is awfully aggressive, clutching you like a toy. but, as all the times before, you don’t mind it. there's a security in his arms you have yet to find elsewhere. you can hear the morning birds beginning to sing outside your bedroom window. by past patterns you estimate about four hours of sweet comfort before you’re left alone in this bed again. the wondrous dean winchester has a life to get back to, and you do, too. but you can’t ignore the tugging in your chest each time he leaves without a goodbye. 

 ──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

ooof this one was fun to write !!! probably one of my fave things to daydream about is being the one dean returns to throughout the years for some solace in his life (luv being delulu, thinking i could heal this man) but maybe i'll do more oneshots with this scenario tho, hmmm much to think about

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

His Girls

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Prompt -  “Don’t hurt him! Just stop hurting him, please!”

Notes - SPOILERS FOR THE LAST OF US SEASON 2, EPISODE 2! Another fix it fic!! Joel Miller & Reader, Ellie Williams & Reader, Tommy Miller & Reader

You and Ellie were the total opposite of one another when it came to feelings. You openly said how you felt, realising that in this world there was a chance everything could be ripped away from you. You never suppressed how you felt, you’d call something what it was. So when you openly called Joel dad for the first time, the poor man’s heart stuttered and he looked as if the world had been pulled out from under his feet before he softened. Ellie never did and it didn’t matter. Joel didn’t need the girl to say it, you all knew Ellie looked at Joel the same, you all knew what you were to each other.

As your journey to Jackson went on, the three of you only became closer and closer. When you’d finally settled in the community a part of you feared losing that, when you weren’t forced within so close proximity, struggling to survive, you worried you wouldn’t be as close, though it turned out it was a useless thought to have. If anything Jackson had brought you closer. 

Until Ellie started giving Joel the cold shoulder that was. 

New Year’s Eve was the worst of it, Joel having rough handled someone who dared speak badly against Ellie and Ellie losing her cool with Joel. 

You sighed as you let yourself walk past the house you still stayed in with Joel and went to Ellie’s in the back, watching as the girl glared at you as you let yourself in without bothering to knock. 

“What?” Here to defend Joel?” She snapped. 

“Ellie,” you sighed, sitting on the end of her bed. “Joel has only ever…what he did makes him, Joel. I’m not just talking about tonight, I’m talking about five years ago. Since the start Joel has only ever wanted to protect us.”

“He ruined any chance of a cure.” Ellie insisted and your nostrils flared, you’d heard her argument for months now but never said much back. 

“There was no cure!” You finally snapped, unable to hear the same thing again when you knew the truth. “There was never a cure, Ellie. Whatever that fucking doctor was gonna do wouldn’t have worked! Joel knew that, Marlene knew that. Their plan was half baked and it wouldn’t have worked! Hell even if it had a chance of working it would have been years back when they still had functioning labs! Joel was never gonna let you die anyway but he definitely wasn’t gonna let them kill you for nothing!”

Ellie was silent, looking at you with an unreadable expression and you hoped you were getting through to her but then she turned away, breaking eye contact with you. 

You sighed again and stood up, making your way to the door, stopping before you stepped out. 

“He loves you, El, we both know that. There isn’t anything more important to him than me and you. Just…” You sighed, voice trailing off. “You know this is killing him.”

With that you left and Ellie sighed. She leaned back against her pillow and promised herself she’d invite Joel out on patrol tomorrow. 

“Coming out?” Ellie asked you, looking less than happy. 

“What happened to you?” You asked, walking alongside her. 

“I was gonna invite Joel out on patrol, make amends and all that shit.” She told you, glaring as you grinned with satisfaction, finally having got through to her.

“Oh yeah, he took your girlfriend out instead.” Your grin widened even more as Ellie’s glare intensified.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” She grumbled out, looking away from you, hoping to hide the pink on her cheeks.

You laughed in delight but let the subject drop for now, letting Ellie lead you to the stables. It didn’t take long to get saddled up and before long the two of you headed out to patrol.

The cold was getting to you, your teeth chattered together and you were shivering fiercely, hard enough that Ellie tied the horses off and led you into a building, the storm too bad to ride in anyway.

“So,” You asked after a while, more than content to sit and wait out the storm with Ellie. “You finally gonna let Joel off the hook?

“I miss him.” Ellie finally confessed after a few minutes of silence where you had thought she was just going to ignore the question. 

You felt your heart ache for the girl, knowing that she rarely spoke about how she felt at the best of times but admitting to missing Joel, she must have been hurting.

“You know, I don’t…you can both say there was never really a cure but I just think, man what if? What if that one was the one thing I was meant to do? But then I think, what if someone was gonna kill Joel? I’d kill them, Y/N/N.” Ellie’s voice was shaky and you smiled sadly over at her.

“Can’t think of the what if’s, there are no what if’s. The only other outcome was Joel not killing them and you dying for nothing. That’s how it would have played out. Even if there was some cure in your head, nobody would know how to get it.”

Ellie frowned at your words but then nodded and you sighed softly, glad it was finally breaking through, glad she was ready to forgive Joel.

“Joel was never gonna let you die, Ellie. He’s done lots of things but letting you die? That’s something he’s never gonna do.” You said softly and Ellie nodded, knowing there was nothing she could say to that.

A Joel Miller that let any harm come to his girls wasn’t Joel Miller.

The conversation turned less serious after that. You and Ellie were laughing over nothing either of you could recall when the radio stuttered to life asking Joel to check in, the voice sounded panicked enough that your nerves were set on edge. 

“Repeat that!” You snapped, snatching the radio from the floor, panic building and Ellie looked at you wide eyed.

“Y/N, you seen Joel? He hasn’t checked in for a while.” The voice on the other end asked and you felt your world turn at even the possibility of something happening with Joel.

“Shit no, where was he last?”

You and Ellie immediately headed to the horses, forcing them to move as quickly as possible, only to be stopped by a massive herd of walkers, your horses rearing up and you headed up the mountain, frowning as you saw Joel and Dina’s horses in front of a cabin. 

“I don’t like this.” You murmured to Ellie as you dismounted your own horses and Ellie shook her head, her hand gripping her gun tighter as the two of you made your way into the cabin. 

Your heart stopped as you entered the room, seeing Joel on the floor half dead and bloody. The shock of the scene was all the group needed and before you could even fight back you and Ellie were on the floor, forced to look at Joel as the girl beat the broken man some more. 

It didn’t even look like Joel, you’d never seen him look like this. Even at his worst he was still an unshakeable force, even when he was clutching his heart and struggling for air you knew if something went wrong in that minute he’d flop. 

But this…this terrified you. Joel couldn’t get up, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t even groan out in pain anymore. His eyes were on you and Ellie, knowing what was to come and hating that his girls were going to have to see it, and you couldn’t look away. 

You couldn’t breathe, your heart was hammering wildly in your chest, hoping like hell you could get Joel out of this alive, even if it killed you. 

The girl battered her fists into Joel again and again and the man holding you forced you harder against the floor as you thrashed. 

You were begging, pleading, a mess of sobs and tears but Abby doesn’t listen, if anything the begging seems to give her satisfaction. 

“Joel, get up! Get up, Joel.” Ellie begged him and your breath hitched as he tried, god he tried so hard to move but he was beaten too bad. Ellie realised it too as she switched from begging Joel to begging the girl hurting him, desperate for her to stop.

Finally she did and you watched as the girl leaned next to Joel, raising the rod and your blood ran cold, knowing what she was going to do. 

It’s not until you choke out the most devastated sounding “Dad please!” that Abby paused, the rod froze mid air and that’s all you needed, that one pause was all you needed. Sheer desperation had you forcing the man holding you off of you, he was on the ground before he knew it. The moment seemed to stretch on forever as you moved before anyone could register it, pulling out your knife and burying it in the side of Abby’s neck without a moment of hesitation, watching with a twisted sense of satisfaction as she choked, blood spraying and splattering before she fell to the floor and you whipped your gun out, Ellie scrambling up and the two of you took down the rest of Abby’s group. 

You felt exhausted by the end of it, knees buckling just as you made it to Joel’s side, watching as Ellie lay with him and you sat down next to him, both holding one of his hands and feeling like the air had been sucked from you as he squeezed them back. 

Reassurance that he was alive.

You hardly remembered struggling to get Joel off the floor, hardly remembered the journey home but you remembered taking him to the doctors office, remembered him being gone for hours as they worked on him, remembered finding comfort in Ellie against your side and Tommy hand on your arm. 

You didn’t remember anything the doctor said past the assurance that Joel was alive and stable, didn’t remember Tommy’s arms around you, keeping you upright, barely recalled Ellie pressing against you and crying with you.

It wasn’t until Joel was awake that the three of you were allowed to visit, Ellie stepping in first, followed by you and then Tommy.

“Baby girls,” Joel groaned out and you went to pieces, Tommy’s grip on you was the only thing holding you up as Ellie choked back her own tears, moving to Joel’s side and pushing herself against him. 

“M’sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” Ellie choked out and you stayed by the door with Tommy, much as you wanted to bury yourself against Joel’s other side, Ellie needed this and so did Joel. 

“Nothin’ t’be sorry for.” Joel assured her, cupping the back of her head slowly and wincing as he kissed the top of her head. 

You listened as Ellie and Joel spoke softly to each other, each of their eyes filled with tears but there was so much relief on their faces as they finally reconnected, realising how close they’d been to losing everything, losing each other without resolving anything, Ellie realising she had nearly been condemned to a life of what if’s and all encompassing grief. You watched the pair with your own watery eyes and shaky smile, leaning against Tommy’s chest as the man kept a steady arm around you, his own eyes stinging with tears. 

“C’mere you.” Joel finally said, looking over at you and you let out a small sob, feeling like you would have been frozen to place if not for Tommy guiding you over to the bed. 

You practically collapsed into Joel’s chest, letting yourself sob into the man as he held you close to him, not caring about his burning sides as he smiled up at Tommy, appreciation clear on his face for looking after the two of you whilst he was down.

You could still see the image of him lying on the floor, bloody and beaten. Even in the hospital bed he looked weak but he looked like Joel. In that cabin he had looked unrecognisable. It turned your stomach sick, you never wanted to see Joel like that again.

For not the first time that night you felt a twisted satisfaction as you remember sinking the knife into Abby’s neck, not even sparing her another look as she fell to the floor as you took the rest of her group out alongside Ellie.

Joel kept whispering words of reassurance as you and Ellie burrowed into him, not a dry eye in the room. You could feel Joel’s heartbeat against your ear, the steady thumping assuring you he was alive, you were home, Joel and Ellie had made up and everyone was safe.

“Love you dad.” You interrupted his steady stream of assurance, the whispered words choked out between soft sobs but Joel’s heart ached nonetheless.

“I love you two, both of you, so damn much.” He promised, kissing both of your heads again and you let out a shaky breath, everything was going to be ok.

“Love you.” Ellie mumbled and you laughed, the sound mixing with a sob but you couldn’t help it, Ellie had finally realised what you had known all along, the world was too dangerous, too unpredictable to be anything but honest with your feelings.

For Ellie’s sake, Joel didn’t make a fuss over the words but inside his heart exploded. He had never needed Ellie to say those words to him, he’d always known, even in the time she was mad at him, he’d known that deep down, under all of the anger and confusion Ellie loved him.

He was just glad he’d lived long enough to hear the words from both of his girls.

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[chimckenns]

Some beautiful quotes hidden within BA spicy times✨

“Shit, Honey. [laughs] Nothing, it’s just… seeing you look down on me like that, it’s so fucking hot. Well, you always look at me so… deep. It actually used to make me really worried back when we were first just flirting and stuff. Yeah, I was always scared you were mad at me or something. Well now I know it’s just you, you think a lot. A lot more than I do. I know that I fill up the silence a lot, cuz that’s just what I’m used to but, with you, silence doesn’t feel bad. You, looking at me, doesn’t feel scary. It feels really good. Feeling seen by you feels good. I love you so much, honey.” (Guy)

“Touch of your skin. The feeling when I press my lips against you. [kisses] Before I met you, I didn’t really ever think about touch as being super important to me. But it’s something that comes naturally with you. And it’s something that has come to mean a lot. Plus it pairs well with quality time. Quality time with tangential cuddling or hand holding or, you know, little back scratches done in passing. Or quality time where the cuddling itself is the quality time. It just feels good. It feels important and I love when we do it. I love just being with you, in every sense. You make bad days good. And good days great.” (Unnamed)

“No, I’m ok. So much better than ok. I just�� I can’t… I can’t believe how lucky I am. I never thought I could have a life like this. I mean, maybe when I was a kid, but since everything started to change, when everything started to get real, when I became Alpha, I… I never thought I could have this. I just figured I would be alone. And then even once we got together, I was such a fucking prick most of the time. And I’d have these moments where even after I said something, I was like, I was screaming at myself in the back of my own head like “why would you say that, why can’t you be better at the shit going on inside your head”. But somehow you stayed. And I got my head out of my own ass. I just… I never thought I could be this happy. I never thought I could have a life that was this beautiful. Even for all the shit in it, it is beautiful, what we share is… and I just… I just can’t believe it sometimes. We’re married now. We’re not just mates, I’m your husband. We’ve gotten rings, we’ve got… we’ve got the rest of our lives ahead of us, together.” (David)

“Thank you, baby. Yeah, thank you for trusting me like you do. That’s what makes it all feel so good, knowing that you trust me like that. With that part of you. That you’re willing to give over control to me like that… I know you’re used to holding onto that so tight in your day to day life. The fact that you’re willing to trust me with your control like this… it means a lot. And all I want to do is prove myself worthy of that trust. I love you. And thank you for believing in me when it came to this job. Having you in my corner when it comes to all this, it really meant more than you could know. I wouldn’t be what I am today without you.” (Aaron)

“Thank you for trusting me with that. I mean, for all of it but, even just trusting me enough to ask. I know it took me a long time to show you more of that side of myself. I love my powers, but, I never wanted that to be all I was. To anyone. Least of all you. Thank you for being someone that I can trust that part of myself with. That I can trust all of myself with. I love you very much, Angel. I’m grateful for you. [kisses] My perfect mate.” (David)

“You’re so good for me, Sweetheart. I’m pretty sure my lips are bruised. [laughs, and kisses] Thank you, Sweetheart, for this. For all of it. That trust that you have in me, it means everything. That’s what makes it all feel so fucking good when we do this shit. That control you hand me is such a gift. I hope you know just how much reverence I hold for that. It’s beautiful. It’s vulnerable. And It’s honest. And it’s so fucking hot, Sweetheart.” (Milo)

“Just be with me in this moment. Breathe with me. You turn my brain into a haze in the best way imaginable. [kisses] You are a thing of wonder, my love. Watching your eyes in that moment as you went over the edge, it’s like looking into pure feeling. So beautiful, it almost aches. [kisses] Thank you for sharing this part of yourself with me, and for letting me share myself with you in return. You make me so unbelievably happy. Truly. Like I haven’t been able to believe.” (Gavin)

[wosofutbolfan]

When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful)

Alexia Putellas x Reader

A story of a lifetime spent growing together. To what end?

Songfic

WC: 17k. Check TW inside.

TW: Bullying based on disability. Death of a parent. Angst. Grief.

Hi Guys.

This has sat in my drafts for months and inside my head for even longer. There is no part 2 planned. This is angsty with fluffy moments. Be warned.

I think we can all agree the most heart wrenching media moment of all time is Toy Story 2 and the below song.

If you don't agree. Move along this is not for you.

Reader calls Alexia, Alex throughout this fic. That's based on this video. Cause I have never heard someone refer to that and I thought it was cute. Alexia refers to R as 'Conejito' as a literal translation of bunny - I have since realised there's a more vulgar translation of this which I'm ignoring. Ha.

Spoiler Alert - This story deals with the death of a parent. Which I went back and forth on writing. Something about it still feels ick to me because these are real people. I may delete. Everything within is based on my own experience of parental loss. And it comes from no place of malace or weirdness.

This also deals with a severe speech impediment - which again, I do not suffer from myself but have experience with and hope I have done the struggle justice for anyone who may suffer.

My spanish is google translate because I am an ignorant English speaker. Apologies.

When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart

It was raining on the day that you met her.

That was strange. For Barcelona. The rain.

You found yourself where you usually could be found, to anyone who would take notice. Which wasn’t anyone to your knowledge except for a few observant teachers. In the art room, in the back corner, working relentlessly at an easel that your favourite teacher would set up for you.

You had transferred into the school part way through term, and for the first few days as with most schools you were the new and shiny thing. At 12 a lot of the kids in school had known each other since birth and you were new fresh blood to entertain them.

That didn’t last too long though when they realised you weren’t actually that interesting.

Shy and quiet as you always had been, you kept yourself to yourself. Its not that you didn’t want to make friends. You did. You so desperately did. But you just didn’t know how.

You had a stutter. That never helped. Kids could be cruel. And with the move from your hometown to Mollet for your mum's job it had only gotten worse. 

Words felt like lead in your mouth, your jaw felt tight and you struggled to get your words out. They stuck in your throat and refused to move from there. 

The teachers were kind. Your peers were not. Your speech therapist was helping. You spent more time than any 12 year old should thinking about sentence structure and breathing techniques.

You knew your parents worried about you. Waiting for you to get home from school every day with worried glances and eager smiles; “Did you make any friends today niña?” your dad would ask, pretending to be casual, flicking through some book or another. “Not today Papi.” You would reply, never wanting to lie to your family, before happily jumping the couch next to him and starting to scribble in your notebook.

“Maybe tomorrow niña. There is always tomorrow”.

Well. Turns out dads are clever.

Because there was always tomorrow. And on an unusually rainy day for Mollet tomorrow came.

“Putellas!! Get back here! Pute-...”

The door to the art room quickly opened and slammed closed. The noise jolts you out of your peaceful reverie. A tall brunette girl smashed her back against the door and a hand quickly flicked out to turn the lights off to the room.

She clearly hadn’t noticed you huddled in the corner as she slid down the door onto her butt. Closing her eyes she let out a deep sigh and rested her forehead on her knees.

You didn't know what to do.

You knew who she was. Of course you did. She was Alexia Putellas.

The Alexia Putellas. Futbol superstar. Well… the 12 year old playground version of that. The coolest girl in school. She oozes confidence. Was always surrounded by a gaggle of your peers. Never without a ball at her feet or in her hands. But she hadn’t noticed you. Arm still raised working on the canvas in front of you, vision now impeded by the dark she had forced onto the room by turning the light off. You froze. Mouth slightly agape and hand starting to sweat. You watched as she rocked her forehead side to side on her knees. Your arm became tired in its upright position and the noise of you plopping the brush back into the water jar seemed to jolt her out of her stupor. Her neck snapped up and you met her wide, hazel eyes that bore into you. “Oh! Lo siento, I didn’t… I didn’t know anyone else was in here.” She was met with silence. Your stutter affected you terribly on a good day. Nevermind your safehaven suddenly being invaded by the coolest girl in school. Who you had idolised from afar since arriving in Mollet. Her head tilted curiously as she took you in. You felt her eyes drift to the canvas behind you. “Did you paint that?” She stands to her full height, still keeping her distance from you. “Why are you painting in the dark…?” She asks curiously. Head still tilted. Faced with a direct question you couldn’t put it off any longer. You couldn’t delay the inevitable. “Y..y…you, tu…tu….switched off….” Changing the words you intended to use halfway through was a coping mechanism that your therapist had tried to get you to work out of your system. She called it masking. You called it getting by. You raise your hand and point to the lightswitch that she had flicked when she entered the room. She looks at you harder now. You feel her eyes boring into you and wait for the inevitable laughter. The pity. Maybe even the cruelty that you are used to when people hear you speak. You cast your eyes down, waiting for the blow. But you just hear a flick of a switch, and the darkness behind your eyelids lifting. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have switched it off if I had known. I was just trying to get away. I kicked a football at Senorita Lopez by accident in the gym. They won’t let me play outside in the rain. Idiotas” You lift your eyes at her gentle, lilting tone as a smile teases your lips. She's moved closer to you now. “You didn’t answer. Did you paint this?” Her hand comes out to hover over the lines of your still-wet painting. Carefully. Again, you’ve been asked a direct question. “Si.” you reply, quietly. You don’t struggle so much with single words. “By yourself?” she asked, aghast, wonder taking over her features. You nod in reply. “This is so cool! Show me!” A grin overtakes your features as you nod more enthusiastically. Glasses slipping down your nose. Pulling out a fresh canvas for your new friend. “Lo siento, I haven’t told you my name. My Papa says it's rude not to introduce myself…” she stands tall and thrusts out her hand. Very formally. Very practised. “I am Alexia Putellas Segura.” You pause for a moment, looking at her outstretched hand. You wipe your clammy hands on your jeans. And shake her hand. “A…A…” you grow frustrated with yourself, the words getting stuck in your throat. You pull your hand away but Alexia keeps her grip firm and nods at you encouragingly. “Al…Alex… Alex.” you give up. Eyes downcast. Maybe you can tell your papa you nearly made a friend today. “Alex! Cool! I’ve never had that nickname! Most people call me Ale. But it can be our thing. I know you, you are y/n I remember Senora Perez making you stand at the front of class. Show me how to paint! Please? ”  Alexia was not a good painter. She quickly got bored and distracted by the newspaper on the desk intended for a paper mache project which she screwed up together, fashioned into a football and then spent the rest of the wet lunchtime kicking around the art room aiming for various targets that she would shout out to you. 

You dutifully cheered at every successful hit of the target. That night as you climbed onto the couch next to your papa and he asked; “Did you make any friends today niña?”. You couldn’t wait to reply; “Si! Alex.” You missed the way his newspaper dropped ever so slightly, and he caught the eye of your mami who was in the kitchen. “Ah, Si? Alex should come for dinner! We would love to welcome him!” He replied, his delight even obvious to you. “No tonta… Alex is a girl!” you let out. In that hilariously moody way only 12 year olds can. You became inseparable. Alexia was your best friend. Complete and total opposites. She would spend wet lunches in the art room with you. She would drag you to the playing fields after school and on break and you would be a goalie for her. Which was really just you standing complaining about where you found yourself and you dived away from balls as she cackled out a laugh. She came round for dinner with your family most nights. You spent every weekend at the Putellas household, travelling to her football games, strapped up next to Alba in the back of the Putellas family car, scribbling away in a notebook as you drew landscapes that you passed. On the way home you would sketch and sketch, only slightly hindered by the weight of your gangly best friend as she slept on your shoulder.  Your art would sit on both family fridges. Alex’s football boots would litter both entrance ways. Your mami would pick Alba up from the junior school if Eli got stuck at work. Joint family dinners were the norm.

Your relationship evolved through the years. Easily. Blissfully. You grew together. You became taller, however still paling in height compared to your best friend. You got braces and had them removed, You wore contacts most days now instead of your thick rimmed glasses. Though you still could usually be found in the art rooms.

Alexia filled out, she became less gangly and more strong, after years dedicated to football and training. 

Your speech improved. Your stammer only comes out rarely and you know your triggers. You worked hard every week with your speech therapist but you always credited Alexia. She gave you confidence. 

No one at school would roll their eyes or laugh at you when Alexia was by your side. She didn’t rush you. She didn’t finish your sentences. Nothing was more formidable within your school walls than if Alexia had found out someone had made fun of you, or not been patient with you. She got in trouble countless times defending your honor. Even if the teachers hated punishing her for it. 

You maybe realised on some level that you were as important to Alexia as she was to you the day that caused her to miss the U15 School Championship final. 

One of the more idiotic older basketball boys had caught you in the hallway. Trying to impress his gaggle of followers he had tripped you up as you were on your way scurrying into the art rooms to finish the sign you had made for Jaume to wave at the upcoming championship final. You had fallen flat on your face, quickly moving onto your back and pressing yourself against the wall. It had been a while due to Alexia's influence but you had dealt with bullies your entire life and you knew you had to just make yourself small and wait it out. “Oh s-s-s-s-s–s-s-oooorry it w-w-w-as an a-a-a-a-accident!!” the boy taunted you, leaning over you and exaggerating your stutter. 

His spittle hitting your face and making you wince. He brought himself to his full height, which was impressive for a 16 year old and turned to his friends. “Honestly, how is she even in this school, she is so estupida!” His guffaw was matched by his followers however their faces quickly dropped as they looked behind their ringleader. “What did you just say to her?” a cold, terse voice entered the conversation. You didn’t see his face drop but you could imagine it. 

He quickly turned and looked at Alexia standing in the doorway. Sunshine behind her darkening your view. As she stepped into the halfway you took in the thunderous look on her face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her as angry. 

You barely recognised her. “I-i-i sai…” This time he wasn’t impersonating you. 

He knew he was fucked. She moved quicker than you had ever seen her move on the football pitch. The tall boys friends quickly scattered as she grabbed him by his shoulders. He may have had at least two foot of height difference on her but that quickly diminished to nothing as she kneed him squarely between the legs. He doubled over in pain as she landed blow after blow to his stomach. “Alex… stop.” you instructed, gathering yourself to your feet. 

Your voice cut through her rage and she immediately stopped her punches. He scurried off as soon as he was able to, no serious damage done apart from to his ego… and maybe his balls. She turned to face you after shouting some choice expletives to his back, face immediately morphing into one of concern, eyebrows furrowed as her hands cupped your face. “¿Estás bien?” She asked, seriously. Hands moving to check you over. 

“Si, Si, estoy bien.” you replied. “You shouldn’t have done that Alex.” you regarded her with sceptical eyes. 

Her brow furrowed further, “What should I have done then? He’s un maton, he hurt you. I taught him a lesson. I would do it again. I would. I am not sorry.” she said firmly as she moved your head beneath her chin and wrapped her strong arms around you. 

You tried to pretend that the butterflies in your stomach erupting at her protectiveness were a normal reaction to a friend. 

Right? She repeated the same platitudes the next day, but this time with Jaumes hand on her shoulder as she sat in the headmaster's office. The boy she had humiliated so happened to be the son of one of the school governors. The headmaster told the footballer and her father that if Alexia apologised to the boy then she would go unpunished, otherwise, he would be forced to stop any of her extra-curricular activities, including the interschool championship final. Which, as headmaster, he really didn't want to do when his school had their first chance of winning in over a decade. She refused. 

She was banned from playing.

The team lost. 

Badly. The guilt ate away at you as you both watched from the sidelines as the 5th goal against your team went in. 

She grasped your knee, and still watched the game. “Stop feeling guilty. I am still not sorry. There are more important things than football conejita.” 

You took a breath and placed your hand on top of hers. You turned to look at her incredulously. “I mean, very few. Football is still in the top 2. Food is 3.” she continued, deadpan. Forcing a laugh out of you. You asked her once, years after first meeting, one sleepover when you were both lying side by side on the Putellas trampoline looking up at the stars. Why was she so patient with you? When no one else was? She looked at you, dumbfounded, genuinely confused by the question. “You have a voice y/n. You deserve to be heard.” she replied. Moving into her favourite position which was pulling all of your weight completely on top of her. Your head rested over her heart. You could hear the thump thump thump against your ear. You hoped she couldn’t feel the fluttering of yours.  

It was that simple to her. “Plus you looked like a rabbit in the headlights when I barged in, you were too cute. Mi pequeña coneja”.

Your Alex. 

You transitioned from best friends into girlfriends at 16 with no fanfare. A shy kiss after a win at Alexia's latest championship sealed it. Her grin splitting her face. Yours matching when you realised your dreams could become a reality. Hands held tentatively in the backseat of Jaumes car as he smiled at the scene through his rear view mirror.  Days later, as you both stood in front of your mami and papi shyly holding hands you realised, squeezing the trembling hand in yours, that it was the first time you had seen Alex nervous. In all of your years of friendship.

Alexia still had her weirdly formal streak, the same as the day you met her, so you let her do what she felt she needed to.

“Senor y Senora y/l/n… “ she started, taking a breath. “Mi and y/f/n…”

Your parents caught your eye, dumbfounded. She never used their titles. They rarely heard her use your name. You were always conejito.

“Alexia… estimada…” your mami started, with kind eyes. You could tell she knew what was coming. You shook your head at her slightly, Alexia too caught up in her own moment to notice. Your mami let her speak.

“Mi and y/f/n…”

Your papi, however, was not as emotionally in tune as your mami, “Monito, what is going on? Why are you being muy loca? Have you got mi mija pregnant? I know you're an overachiever bu…” “Papi!” you screeched out, interrupting him. 

Alex stood mouth agape, face flushed as she looked to you for help. “Papi, Mami, Alex is tr…try…tryi… telling you that we’re together together.” you let out, raising your joined hands. Your mami let out a laugh behind her hands, your papi however stood and exclaimed, “Was that some sort of secret!? Dios Mio of course you are! We thought you had been for years!  You made me change your bedtime story from princesses to football-playing princesses on the day you met!  Why do you think your Mami makes you keep your door open when this one stays, Mija?” 

Now it's your turn to blush as your mouth drops open. As he passes Alexia he gently smacks her upside the head, ruffling her long brunette hair. “Now come on cabeza de bola, me and the guys from work are starting a 5 a side. I need your help on penalties…” You huff out a laugh as your girlfriend is dragged away, confused look stuck on her face - eyebrows adorably drawn and mouth furrowed and clinging to your hand until distance forces her to let go. 

Your mami settles her arm across your shoulders. “I’m happy for you Mija” she mutters, in her gentle tone as you fall into her embrace. “You’re going to marry that girl one day.” Even after everything that would happen and the hell you would feel, you thank God for the unseasonal rain in Barcelona that day in junior school.

And when she was sadI was there to dry her tearsAnd when she was happy, so was IWhen she loved me It wasn’t long after you made your relationship official that you had your first real test.

You knew something was wrong with your girlfriend probably before she did. You knew her like the back of your hand. Though it finally came to a head one early evening at the Putellas household.

You had both picked Alba up from school, and you had set out to making dinner in the Putellas kitchen whilst Alexia's parents were both stuck at work.

It was standard practice, occurring at least once a week. You moved through the kitchen with ease. The ease is what alerted you.

Usually, on nights like these, Alba would huff off to her room like any other pubescent teenager, head stuck in her phone and earphones firmly in place. Alexia however, would usually be found attached to your back, arms wrapped around you as you cooked, or sat at the breakfast bar, swiping chopped veggies til you hit her with a spoon to make her stop, rolling your eyes as she insisted she was a growing girl and she needed the extra.

No, this was too easy, you thought, as you moved around, you missed your big inconvenience in the kitchen and you made sure your pasta sauce was bubbling nicely and went to search for her. 

You find her in the living room, her large frame draped over the sofa, eyes mindlessly watching the TV. But you can tell she isn’t watching whatever is on. Ale isn’t a big TV-watcher. She's very rarely sitting still for long enough to concentrate. The exception being if you're in her lap, where she entertains herself by playing with your hair or tracing the lines on your palm. “Hey, amor, estás bien?” your voice brings her out of her thoughts, “Ey? Ah sí conejito, lo siento, is dinner ready?” she asks, making to stand, but being stopped by your hand on her shoulder.  “Ay, when did I become the hired help, ey?” you ask, trying to tease a smile out of your girlfriend. “Dinner will be ready soon. Tell me what's on your mind.” The thing about Alex is she’s an open book. People may think she is stern and serious but she wears her heart on her sleeve. You can always see her thoughts plainly on her face, so you know something troubling her. She knows she can’t hide it from you, so she doesn’t try. “I’ve been offered a professional contract.” She states, plainley. Your heart lifts for her. Your whole life Alexia has bled football. For many years she believed, and you did too though you would never admit it, that it wouldn't be possible to make a career from the sport. You don’t think you have ever seen Alexia as sad as when she aged out of the Barcelona FC teams. She was devastated. It was a harsh reminder that Spain wasn't the USA. The opportunities are not always available. But the thing you loved most about Alexia was her dogged determinedness. She would train in the morning, in the afternoon, between classes. You are overjoyed that all of that hard work has paid off. Something wasn’t adding up with her reaction, however. “Alex, that's amazing news!” you exclaimed, unable to hide the joy in your voice. “Why are you not more excited? Is it a bad deal?” “No, amor, it is a fair deal.” she sighs. You just look into her eyes, waiting for her to tell you what she wants to share. She takes a deep breath. “It’s Levante, I would have to move to Valencia.” Ah, you see. Your heart breaks at the sad frown painted on the usually stern face of your girlfriend. Your hand moves up to trace her eyebrow, forcing them to unfrown and moving down to cup her cheek. She leans heavily into the warmth of your hand, and damp eyes open, fixing to yours. “Oh Alex, it’s okay” you whisper. The truth is you had always known that with the career your girlfriend was destined to follow, that you would have to spend time away from each other. You already did. Alexia has often been away throughout your friendship and now your relationship for national camps. 

You had a very mature relationship for 17 year olds. Having been woven into each other's lives for so many years. You were part of each other's DNA. You knew how to manage the time without your girlfriend. You were both grade A communicators. You accepted that this would be different, and no doubt unimaginably hard for the footballer, her family was her life. But so was football. And you know you needed to encourage her to take this step. “It’s not okay!” she stated, firmly, sitting up straight on the couch. “It’s not fair! Finally I get what I have dreamed of but it comes at the expense of everything I love. Mi familia, Barcelona, you! Why can’t I have both? I don’t know what to do” “You go to Levante, Alexia.” you say, seriously, “This is a huge opportunity for you.” She looks at you incredulously and you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong. “Oh, so it is that easy for you? Si? You just let me go like it doesn’t even bother you!” You aren’t used to Alexia's stern frown being sent your way, usually it's aimed at someone in defence of you. Or at a goalkeeper.  You, however, know the brunette is feeling vulnerable, she has waves of insecurity at times, she puts so much pressure on herself it's inevitable, but you are always there to assure her of her worth, and your love. “You know that's not true, amor.” you say, tenderly, hand reaching into her brunette locks to sooth her. “I agree, it’s not fair that Barca don’t have a women's team but I have always known your talent would take you away from me, “ she opens her mouth to interject, “but I love you. And I know you love me. We are tethered. Forever. When, not if, you go to Valencia, we will make it work. You know we will amor, you can have both” “But I will miss you.” she whimpers, pathetically. “I will miss you every second. But it will get better, it’ll pass Alex.” Her head finds your neck as she settles in there. Her larger frame is quite comically draped over you. “Do you promise?” she lets out, weakly. And you don’t let a moment pass, “I promise.” and seal your promise with a kiss to the crown of her head. She moves her chin up and faces you, “Beso, por favour” she asks, who are you to refuse? You kiss softly, you don’t know how many minutes you are tasting her sweet lips pass before you are interrupted by a sulky 14 year old.  “Ewwww!”

Alba appeared, making the two of you split apart, her disgust at the scene she's found making you laugh as Alexia peels herself from you, rolling her eyes.

“I’m gonna tell Mami that you two were making out instead of feeding m…ahh!” Albas accusations getting lost as Alexia chases her around the living room, ready to fight in a way only sisters can.

A strange smelling odour fills your nose. Oh… Oh no. You rush into the kitchen to find your dinner smoking on the hob.

“Oi, Putellas diablos!” You stick your head into the living room where you find Alexia sat on her younger sister whilst she tries to battle off the huge weight she finds on herself. They both pause and look at you guiltily. “C’mon, shoes on, we’re going out to eat, on me, we’re celebrating!”

Both of them unite in cheers as they childishly jump up and run to the front door in glee, shoving each other out of the way to try to get their shoes on first as you watch, affectionately shaking your head.

It will be months later, after a summer filled with memories made with your girlfriend, days at the beach, trips to the market, lazy days at home and soft moments made in the streets of Barna, that you would find yourself alone in bed.

That was weird.

You had spent the day packing with Alexia, the sadness of moving away had started to be replaced with excitement from the tall girl. Her dreams were coming true, okay, it may not be perfect, she finally understands, but it's a step in the right direction.

She can’t believe that she's going to get paid to play football.

Paid. The evening after a long day of packing was spent having a family meal at the Putellas household. Your family is also in attendance. It was a loud and joyous affair and it helped to keep the sadness out of your girlfriend's eyes. After a long evening of sombremesa Alexia had insisted on coming back with you to your parents to your house.

She didn’t want to spend her last evening in Barcelona in her empty bedroom, instead finding solace in yours. You had both talked into the early hours, in the arms of each other, trading soft touches and exchanging breaths until sleep took you. You pretended for her sake that you couldn’t hear her rattling breaths or feel the dampness of her cheeks on your fingers.

Now, however, you were alone, and unsure at what woke you up. Until a tapping comes to your attention. You sit up in bed and hear it again. What is that? You get out of bed and go towards your window, yep, there it is again, coming from outside. You throw open the curtains and peer out into the moonlit garden.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness but you can’t take that moment because you suddenly are hit squarely in the face by a pebble. 

“Ouch.. what the he…” you stand suddenly and bang your head on the window frame “Ow, Fuck!” “Ay Dios Mío, lo siento amor! I didn’t see you had opened the window!” Alexia's panicked voice reached your ears, why was she in the garden? What the hell was going on? “Are you okay conejito?” You take a moment to steady yourself and your mind into your new and abrupt situation. “Conejito?” “Yes, Alex, I am fine. What are you doing out there?” You’re met with silence. “Al?” The tall brunette is scuffing her foot against the pebbles of the garden that she had previously been launching at the window. “I don’t want to say. I feel stupid now.” You arch your eyebrow in her direction. You don't think that she can even see it but she knows what's aimed in her direction. “I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. And also sad. And muddled. And I will miss you so much so I was just imagining how good it will feel when you visit, or I visit. Or when I score a goal and you’re watching. Which I know you’ve seen but now it's my job.” she rambles, pausing momentarily to take a breath. 

“Anyway, I thought about how cool it would be if I came to visit and woke you up by throwing stones at your window like in a film! You’d love that! Then I just couldn’t wait to do it. So here’s me, doing it. I’m being romantic.” She throws a crooked grin up at the window and your heart literally melts. “I..I….” and you promptly burst into tears. “Oh no mi amor no! Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to throw a pebble at your face! I’m sorry!” she gestures towards you with her hands frantically. “It’s not that Alex, you’re just such an idiot. And I love you so much. I am going to miss you so much. Get up here.” needing her arms wrapped around you. She nods vigorously and makes to climb the trellis that goes to your window. “No you idiot! Use the door! You have a key!” “Oh yeah.” you hear her mutter to herself before she scurried back inside. As you’re settled back into her warm arms, her huge hands palming through your hair. “That was very romantic Alex.” you mumble and you practically hear her purr with pride at herself. “Next time though bebe, use your key, I would much rather you be here in bed with me.” “Noted.” she mumbles into your skin, wiping away the tears that you can’t stop from rolling down your cheeks. Alexia got settled into her professional team quickly and efficiently, she was one of the youngest but easily the most talented on the pitch. You would travel up with Jaume religiously at the weekends wherever you could, your time in the week spent busy with the Art College you had enrolled in. Alba sometimes tagging along when you bribed her with snacks.

As promised you were there when she scored her first professional goal, her beaming smile sent directly to you and Jaume in the stands, stood cheering for her. You witnessed her wide eyes, after the game, as you stood waiting for your celebratory hug and maybe a cheeky kiss, when she was stopped by a little hand. “Hola.” the small girl had to crane her neck to look up at your girlfriend. She was shaking with excitement. “Hola?” she replied, confused. “Can I have your autograph por favour?” she asked, sweetly. Alexia just stood there, like a sim. 

You stepped forward with your notepad and drawing pencil that you carry everywhere, you had more drawings of inside a football stadium than anyone would need. You ripped out a page and handed Ale the pencil. “Of…of course?” She scribbled down her autograph for the young girl who beamed and ran away holding it above her head to show her mami who picked her up in glee. Alexia's wide eyes stared at you. “Did you see that?” “I saw that bebe, I handed you the pencil. I also saw your goal, superstar!” You couldn’t control your grin, which was mirrored by your girlfriend. “You played so well! Alex!” You're interrupted as she drags you over the fencing and pulls you into a bear hug. Her face nuzzled into your neck, her body vibrating with excitement. “I scored for you conejito!” she says “Well, hija, I won’t be offended, I have only been to every game you’ve played for 10 years” Jaume appears above you both still in the stands, smiling teasing his lips. “And you papa!” she releases you and pulls her papa into a hug. Dragging you back in after a moment before declaring that her first goal means that she deserves pizza and ice cream courtesy of her papa. 

Through the summer and the fall We had each other, that was all Just she and I together Like it was meant to be

You finished your college course and your love for art had never died. You made the trip to Valencia wherever possible to see Alex and she came back to Barna at least once a month to see her family and you on an off weekend. You would spend those weekends living at Alexias house, soaking up every moment together as much as possible. 

She would bring her clothes home for Eli to wash as she was useless at anything practical. You would make sure that you would always snag a sweater of hers before it was washed and keep hold of it, soaking in her scent before you could swap it out again. Alexia, used to pretend she hated it, they would always be returned with paint stains around the cuffs which would harden and she said irritated her skin.  You tried to be more careful but you didn’t stop stealing them.

You saw the same amount of her family as before she moved away, your lives had been so intrinsically linked that you had become an honorary Putellas, and she was a part of your family. You hung around with Alba and you helped Eli with her shopping when her car broke down. You were family.

Weirdly enough, it was you that met Alexia's future best friend first. After college, you started to make money from your art by being a live artist at weddings.

You knew your parents were worried about what you would do with your art. Teaching was the obvious choice but with your speech issues, it was your idea of hell.

This was perfect.

It was a niche business but you got paid well and you loved it. You got to go to weddings for a job. You got to capture people's joy on the most important day of their lives.  You would sit in the corner with an easel set up, sketching and painting guests, the dance floor, the top table. And you could immediately give your paintings to the couple and their guests, the validation was enormous, you were good at what you did. Discreet and professional.

You soon get a client list for miles and the money starts to pour in.

It was at one of these weddings that you met Mapi. She caught your eye during the speeches and you started to draw her outline. She was clearly very very gay at a very straight wedding. But it wasn’t just that that caught your eye, her tattoos intrigued you. And you loved sketching them and adding hints of colour here and there.

She looked up at you and caught you sketching, as guests often would, you were able to not let it distract you, ever the professional you offered a gentle smile.

“You like football?” a heavily accented voice reached your ears as you were adding the finishing touches to the dancefloor scene that was set out before you.

“Que?” It wasn’t often that guests interacted with you, but sometimes it happened.

“Your bag, FC Barcelona? That's not usual for a pretty girl like you, to like football.”

“Ah, Si.” You reply, your eyes not moving from your painting. “It’s my girlfriends.” you reply, emphasising your relationship status, not wanting a moment of confusion.

“Ah, boo, you have ruined my fun.” She replies, “Maria Leon '' She introduces herself, hand out for you to shake, you don’t take her hand, handing your paint-y hands up. She holds her hands up in surrender. “I see, I see. FC Barcelona though. Good team. No women's team though.”

“No, but there will be, and my girlfriend will be their top scorer when it happens”  you reply confidently. “You seem so sure?” “I am.” She lets out a laugh. “I can’t argue with that, then I will be their best defender” she offers a huge smile. Mapis smile is magic and makes you smile.

You and Mapi become firm friends. She talks. And talks and talks and talks. You don’t know how she has so much to say. But she is fun and she is kind. Your stutter makes an appearance as it sometimes does but it is perfectly offset by her inability to stop yapping. You don’t feel a pressure to fill the silence because you know she will. 

Years later, at a supercup final, you will both laugh about your first conversation. About how both of your statements came true. Turns out, people paid well for authentic paintings of their favourite moments. And as a young adult you found yourself with enough money to get yourself a small apartment in Mollet. You loved it. And you loved the independence it brought you. You think that was the happiest time of your life. You would spend days on your sun drenched terracotta tiled balcony. Painting watercolour and sketching the scenes both in your mind and your view over the square that your apartment was on. You had quite the online following and would get some commissions for your art which brought you a sense of purpose and joy. The absolute best time was when Alexia had a free weekend, or a break, she would stay with you and you would live in domestic bliss. It was an unspoken agreement. No question that she would make her base for her time back at your apartment. Even when she wasn’t there you wouldn’t sleep on her side of the bed. More of her clothes made their way into your closet. More of her sweaters would get paint marks on them. You would cook together, sing together, dance together in your small kitchenette. Feeling happy and in love as only young people can. Nothing gets between you. Training had been kind to your girlfriend, and you struggled to keep your eyes off her as she would do basic tasks. She was thick. For want of a better word. Her gangly limbs had become pure muscle, her back would ripple when putting on a t-shirt, you would find yourself staring at her forearms as she would cut vegetables. She knew what she did to you and she loved it. Often sending a wink your was and sending you into more of a stuttering mess then usual, heat climbing to your face. You felt your heart grow as you would go shopping for groceries together. Take strolls in the square, you sitting on a bench and sketching as she inevitably got herself involved in a football game with the local kids. Her favourite time of day would be Friday nights. Often, if she was lucky, she would be scheduled an early kick off on fridays. You would travel back from the game together with her papi. You took the backseat as you knew you would monopolise her time back all weekend. Giving her a chance to catch up with her family. You would get home, she would shower whilst you made a light dinner, both taking it in on the balcony before moving inside and settling on the couch. She would put on some illegally screened recordings of the game she had played in. But she would mute it as she pulled you into her chest. You would have a sketchbook in hand and continue working on your art, or a piece from a wedding that needed finishing up. You always told her the commentary wouldn’t distract you. But she insisted. Once finally saying, “I like the sound of your pencil, it soothes me, and sometimes you trace the sketch on my leg with your free hand. It gives me goosebumps. I like it.” you never asked again. You argued, of course, like any couple did. But it never lasted long. Alex would get angry when she would find paint in the sink, and you would struggle to share your space at first. But you never went to bed in a fight. Even if you tried to be stubborn your body would fail you and you would gravitate towards her in the moments before sleep, muttering your apologies or forgiveness. In those early days of young adulthood it would be the only time in your relationship where you had more money than Alex. 

Football did not pay well. It did not pay a living wage. 

You didn’t care. 

You felt privileged every time you scanned your card for the groceries, or paid for dinner on a date. You knew she hated it though. “One day conejito, I will give you everything life can offer, I promise” she would whisper into your skin whilst she tried to make it up to you in other ways. You would always tell her you had everything you needed right there with you. It was perfect. Life was perfect. You had friends, a stable job, the love of your life. Yes, distance was hard, yes, each time she left you would cry and hold her tighter to you, but you knew it wasn’t forever, and you never felt that distance in your relationship. You grew together, like a plant, your love was carefully cultivated in experiences and shared memories.

And when she was lonely I was there to comfort her And I knew that she loved me

You had never felt sadness like it. It was all encompassing. You couldn’t get away from it. You were sad for your chosen family. You were sad for your own family. You were sad for yourself. But you were devastated for your girlfriend. You didn’t know what to do with so much sadness. You couldn’t hold it in, but you couldn’t let it out. You needed to be strong for your girlfriend. Who was walking around as a shell of the person that you knew her to be. Well, that was when she was walking, she would throw herself into her childhood bedroom and stay there silently for hours. You would be okay with it if she was sleeping, but she just stared at the wall aimlessly. Her Papa was her inspiration. The reason she got into football. She would look up to him even as she towered over him. And it was so so cruel that he had been taken away from her in such a manner. A week after Jamues passing you found yourself next to Alexia at his funeral. It was a beautiful affair, a celebration of the life of a man who loved hard and was loved hard. The morning had been difficult, you had ironed Alexia's dress and set it out for her. She took your instruction like a small child, you brushed her hair straight and pulled it out from her face. You struggled to speak. Such immense grief you felt the words became garbled in your mouth, rendering you mute. But you didn’t want any pressure on Alexia. 

You knew when your stutter made an appearance she would drop everything, concentrate on doing your exercises with you, hand automatically cupping your jaw and massaging the soft area beneath your ear because she knew that relaxed your facial muscles. So you both moved around silently. That morning. As you guided her around what needed to be done. As you packed her bag with tissues you hoped that you needed to use them. You hadn’t seen her cry since she rushed home from Valencia to the news. So no, you didn’t know what to do with your grief. You loved him too. He was the first person you had loved and lost. You had your own special relationship built from long car journeys and shared snacks. He would put your art on his fridge like you were one of his own. He was kind and he was half of the person who you loved to your core. God. If you felt like this. You don’t know how Alexia was still breathing. You had been spending all week as the Putellas household. Not leaving Alex's side. But also not leaving Alba, who would lean heavily into you of an evening, seemingly crying all of the tears that her sister couldn’t. It felt healthy though, through the tears you could share memories and make her laugh. You would go to bed with Alex and the silence would continue. When you were sure she was asleep you would sneak out of bed and grab your sketch pad, settle into the corner of the room and just let it out. Her dad told you once at a game how his father worked as a coal miner. He said it proudly, he adored hard work. That's where Alexia got her devotion from. It was a passing moment, a memory that you didn't even know you had. But it stuck with you as you went into the Putellas garden and took a lump of coal from the barbeque and settled yourself into the dewey grass. Hand not stopping over your sketchpad and tears rolling down your cheeks.

The night after the funeral you stayed at your own parents house. You couldn’t handle the loneliness of your own apartment. You didn’t want to intrude at the Putellas residence, and you hoped that maybe some time with her family would be what Alexia needed to open up. You were right, but not in the way you imagined. A soft clink, clink, clink, woke you up, This time you were not frightened. You had heard this noise before. You immediately jumped out of bed and ran to your window, showing it open and shoving your head out. “Alex! What are you doing here, why didn’t you use your key?” The brunette looked up at you with sad eyes, you saw she was in her pyjamas, eyes sideways showing no car, she had walked here. “I forgot it.” she let out, morosely. “Oh mi amor, no p..p..problem, hold on I will come down and let you in.” before you had a chance to bring your body back into the house you heard her again, “You left me.” your heart cracked into two. You didn’t reply but instead hurried downstairs into the moonlit garden. She stood there, with all her muscle and height, looking everything like a toddler who was lost in a supermarket. You took her hand in yours and used your other to cup her cheek. “Oh, mi amor I didn’t leave you, I thought you wanted some space.” Maybe you expected her to agree, maybe you expected her to disagree and shout at you for getting it so wrong. You didnt realise that you were to her, like an umbrella in the rain, protecting her from the downpour. With you gone she drowned in the grief. You didn’t expect her lip to tremble and her to burst into tears. “I want my papa.”  Those 4 words broke your heart as you huddled her into your arms, rocking lightly to bring her confort. There was nothing you could say, you just brought her into your bed and held her as she cried, painting her skin with whispers of your love “I know, bebe, I know, I promise it’ll pass, I promise, and I will be here. The pain will go. It will pass Alex and I will be here.” It became a mantra that you whispered into her skin.

As she calmed down you took a moment to think. As you got out of bed and she groaned in annoyance you hushed her with your lips to her skin. “Un momento, mi amor, I have something for you.”

You presented it nervously, unsure of the reaction you would get.

It was a framed picture that you had created. Not like your usual artwork as it was made from coal. Coal from the Putellas barbecue to be exact. It was a sketch of a man in the stands of a football stadium, somehow, eyes beaming with pride, laugh lines visible on his face. A footballer with a long ponytail and similar features jumping into his arms.

It was a scene you had witnessed hundreds of times throughout the years. You didn’t need to see it again to create it. The coal added a haunting and beautiful dimension to it. When you explained your reasoning Alexia looked deeply into your eyes. Holding onto the frame with white knuckles like her life depended on it.

“I love you.” 

And when Alexia scored and helped her team to win the U19 Championship for her country not 3 weeks later. Celebrating with eyes to the sky, fingers pointed. You knew that, eventually, she would be okay. 

So the years went by I stayed the same But she began to drift away I was left alone Still, I waited for the day When she'd say, "I will always love you"

It was as though it had been destined for years but finally finally the news came that Barcelona FC would have a women's team. Mapi had texted you with glee when the news broke out, she knew that she was stuck in her own contract but the fact it existed made it a possibility for her dreams to come true. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, was a free agent. You thought, privately, that even if she wasn't a free agent that she would break every law on planet earth to play for her childhood club. She was offered a contract and signed without any hesitation. A mist in her eyes at the missing presence in her signing photos. You drove with Alba to collect her and all her things from a year in Valencia directly to your apartment. As you unpacked her stuff, Alba on a food run with money you had shoved into her hand, your small flat suddenly felt full. “Alex,” You called, from the living room, you heard her shuffle around and pop her head into the bedroom where you stood, surrounded by boxes. “Si, conejito?” she asked, breathlessly. You took in her smile, that you had missed over the months, the light in her eyes, the ease of her movements. “I am just asking, I don’t actually remember asking you to move in?” You say, teasingly, gesturing to her boxes surrounding you. It was true, you hadn’t, it had just been assumed by both of you, as well as both of your families. A blush rose up her neck, “I mean… I-i-..”. You burst out laughing. “I am just teasing you”. A glint in her eyes took over and you had half a second to brace yourself before you were tackled by an almost 6ft wall of muscle. You landed gently on the bed with a thump. “Well, light of my life. I think it’s too late for that. Maybe I can make up for my rudeness.” Her voice takes on a sultry tone, attacking your neck with kisses, making you groan. “No, No, No, No, stop it you two! Why is this my life!” Well. Alba was back, You groaned as Alexias full body weight fell onto you as she heard her sister. You had a feeling you both had plenty of time to make up for it. Living with Alexia full time was natural. You had obviously had practice from the year she spent in Valencia but you didn’t realise how easy it would be. You knew where to step to not fall over her boots in the hallway without looking. 

You amended your grocery show to include all her weird protein-packed foods. She would help you get ready for work in your evening gowns that you had to wear to fit in at the weddings, and she would stay up to make sure you got home safe and listened as you babbled on about your favourite parts, all the while taking it in for ideas for your own wedding. You continued to make money at weddings, Alexia rose through the ranks at the new Barcelona Femini team. Quickly establishing herself as a calm and serious captain. 

She took her role seriously,  she would study games religiously at home as you would paint or sketch. Your easel set up in the living room or on the balcony. She would rub your shoulders as you painted, eyes set on the TV at the game. The shared time doing your own activities matched you both perfectly. And just like that, years passed. Years in domestic bliss. Spent together and with your families. Vacations in Ibiza and even a pet cat called Pablo Petcatso, or Pabs for short, entered your little family unit. He was a ginger cat who loved a cuddle and loved getting into Alexia's kit bag, he even made it to the training once or twice, and you had to drive over there to pick him back up. Dragging him away from 22 cooing footballers. 

Women's football grew, as did Alexia's paycheck. And with that, you think, looking back, as did the cracks in your relationship.

“We're here!” Alexias excited voice explained, you had pulled up outside a tall apartment building in the centre of Barcelona. She hadn’t shared with you where you were going. Insisting it needed to be a surprise.

“And where is here?” you looked up at the towering glass building above you, you didn’t come into the city much, you preferred the quiet of your suburb.

“You’ll see, you’ll see!” Her excitement was catching, and you found yourself giddy as the elevator took you further into the skies of the city.

“Ta-da!” She presents a huge open plan space before you, the glass fronted living room has views over the city to the sea. You could count at least 3 bedrooms from where you stood in the hallway. The kitchen was sleek, straight lines and clean granite. 

“What is this place?” you ask, confused, taking in your surroundings. “It's our new apartment!” What? “What?” you breathe out. “Don’t you love it?!” Alexia remains giddy, her excitement not fading and she fails to notice your unenthused reaction. Your mind whirred. “Come look, come look!” she grabbed your hand, and pulled you further into the apartment. Proudly presenting each room to you. “And this room. I thought you could have it as your art studio!” “Art studio?” you whisper. “Yeah! Isn’t it so cool, and so much space. Now I wont get cross at you for getting paint all over the kitchen! Pabs will have so much room to explore!” She turns around and pulls you into her embrace, you are still shellshocked at everything presented to you. “I promised you, didn’t I? I would give you the world conejito.” Her eyes are so bright with joy, the smile so wide on her face, you couldn’t help but smile. Yes, the sleek lines, the large space, and the modern kitchen were beautiful. You didn’t see it for yourself, you preferred your terracotta tiled balcony and your plants overtaking your kitchenette. You loved painting in your living room when Alexia would watch a match. Pabs crawling over your shoulders, your little bubble with your family. But you could see how proud Alex was of herself, of what she had achieved. You must have taken a moment too long, as her eyebrows furrow. “You don’t like it.” you said, plainly, “No… No Alex, I do! I was just so surprised. I love it, and I love you.” “Yeah?” her eyes brighten again. You kiss her lips softly, “Yeah.” “Good! And think conejito, maybe one day there would be room for a bigger family?” she asks, shyly. Your heart melted as you nodded frantically and threw yourself into her embrace. As Alexia's career grew, so did the pressure on her. She was often away, it was something your whole relationship had survived, but now, being away with both club and country, as well as in an apartment that had never truly felt like home. You felt lonely. You would come home from weddings with only Pabs to greet you, you would create art in your studio without the background noise of Alexia watching a game, or preparing a smoothie. She would do that in the living area. Nights together were rarer. Your love never dimmed. Alexia showed you in her every movement that she adored you. Date nights, whilst few and far between, were the highlight of your week. Though that soon became the highlight of your month. The one saving grace during this time was that Mapi had finally joined Barcelona Femini and you took it on yourself to be her personal Barcelona guide. As Alexia's fame grew, you shied more into the background. You weren't an extrovert. You would never hide your relationship and you never asked Alexia to but the only social media that you had was that to promote your artwork. Meanwhile, Alexia's followers grew and grew. A few crazed fans had deep dived into her archives and knew of you but that was only a portion of the fanbase. She hated the delving into her private life, and that caused her to stop posting anything of you onto her public accounts. Any trace of you, gone. Before being a footballer, in Alex’ mind, she was your protector, that hadn’t changed from 15 years ago. With 2021 came great change. All of the years of dreams and hard work had paid off and Barca had reached the champions league final. You travelled to Gothenburg with Eli and Alba, a nervousness in your stomach more than usual. For both your girlfriend and your best friend. You celebrated the win with a euphoria you had rarely felt. Everything felt worth it. The lonely nights, the travel around the country, the sacrifices you had to make as the partner of La Reina.

And as she pulled you into her arms after the final whistle, and pulled you over the barricade the same way she did when she scored her first professional goal your heart couldn’t swell more with pride. You don’t want to say that Alexia changed after the Ballon D’or. Because she didn’t. Well, maybe she did, she suddenly sported bright blonde locks which, you admit was sexy, but you missed the softness her natural hair gave her face. By the second Ballon D’or you thought maybe it was you that changed. Maybe it was you that put up a barrier. One that couldn’t be identified easily. But with study it could be noticed. The problem was that Alex wasn’t there to notice. Yeah, you were together, you did things together, you made love and you made memories. You went back to Mollet regularly and ate with your families and you went to games with Alba.  But Alexia was busy. She had brand deals, she had interviews, she had achieved her dream of being the best footballer in the world. You knew she was since you were 12. But now the world knew too. And the world wanted her attention. 

Oftentimes she was exhausted when she got home. She didn’t want to cuddle on the couch. She didn't want to walk around the plaza. She didn’t want to hear about your day. She would ask, but you could tell her mind was elsewhere, in some contract somewhere, so you started to lie. To give answers which would satisfy her without arousing suspicion. Always trying to put her ease first. 

You would decline for nights out with her teammates, you even lied once or twice and said you had a wedding to paint, just to avoid suspicion. Alexia would take your answer as the truth, and kiss your cheek lightly as she left the apartment which quickly felt like it had become your prison. Mapi could see through you. She would try to get you to talk, but she was Alexia's team mate. Alex was her captain. It didn’t feel right to discuss your relationship issues with her. Not when you wouldn’t even talk to the woman in question about it. You found yourself in the familiar seats of the Johan Cryuff stadium taking in the first home game of the new season. Alba and Eli by your side. The first game was always a family affair. With the Putellas cousins in attendance, a restaurant booked for this evening for you all. It was an easy win for the Champions of Europe. And as you stood with Mapi and her new girlfriend Ingrid at the end of the match chatting, Patri bounded over, sweat on her brow and joy in her eyes. “Hola Senora La Reina” she teased you, kissing your cheek, you had been around the team so much that they all knew you well. “Ay, Idiota, hands off” and large, familiar hands wrapped around your middle, a kiss planted to your other cheek as you melted into her embrace. “Congrats bebe” you muttered, craning you neck you see her looking down at you with a smile. “Senora Reina, you’ll come out for drinks with us to celebrate the win, won’t you?” Parti asked, full of joy. 

The attention of the 4 footballers on you suddenly unsettled you. Maybe it was the busy environment. Maybe it was being with Ingrid who you’d only met a few times. Maybe it was Alexias hands around you for the first time in what felt like months. But you struggled to get your words out. “Ah, gra…grac…gracias  for the invite diablo, but m…m…me…” “She’s coming out with mi familia Patri, it’s tradition! You know that! Vamos, I will come out quickly for a drink then join you all, conejito” Alexia interrupted you, planted a final kiss on your cheek and headed to the changing rooms. She didn’t feel you freeze in her embrace. She didn’t see Patri and Mapis expressions change. She didn’t see Ingrid's look of confusion. You felt sick. You felt like you were about to burst into tears. Your throat burned and you struggled to swallow. 

You felt small. You shuffled your feet on the ground and looked up to see Mapis' face had grown furious, her girlfriend's arm had come to rest over her shoulders, trying to settle her but unsure why. You went straight into damage control. Alexia has protected you your entire life. She had never interrupted you, she knew you couldn’t stand when people would finish your sentences. It was the worst thing you could do to someone with a stutter. She knew that. You don’t know why Alexia's endless patience ran out that day. But you knew you wanted to protect her from your best friend's rage. You knew it would happen one day, you just wish it had happened without any witnesses. For both of your sakes. “Mapi, it's fine.” “It is not fine!” Patri backs away from the situation with a kiss to your cheek and an apologetic look. “I don’t know what's wrong with her lately. I am going to kill her…” she moves towards the changing rooms but you pause her with a soft hand. “Maps, please don’t. It’s f…f…okay. I am okay. Ju…just go get changed and go on your night out. I will t..text you tomorrow. Please.” You look to Ingrid for help, you don’t know her well but she has the power over Mapi seemingly, and as she guides her to the changing rooms the small Spaniard seems to settle down. 

Not enough though, apparently, because as soon as she sees her captain again, a flicker of that rage comes back to her. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Mapi hisses to her captain, “Maria, stop” Ingrid tugged her by the elbow, trying to take her away. Alexia looked up from her phone with a look of indignation, yes she was Mapis friend but she was still her captain, and they were in front of the whole team. Her defensive wall immediately came up. “Discuple?” Her eyes cast across the changing room, their team mates continued to get changed and pretended they weren’t eaves dropping into the mini argument that had developed.

“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mapi spat out. “Why did you interrupt her?” Something in Alexia's stomach dropped. Her hands become clammy, her body reacting to the accusation before her mind could. “What? I didn’t. I would never.” she whispers in reply, but more to herself. “No, No I didn't.” she said more surely, somewhat desperately. 

Mapi takes in her best friend's demeanour, the usually stoic and strong captain looked devastated, maybe even petrified? Mapi knew what she had done, but could see that Alexia would punish herself more than Mapi ever could. She stepped away, guided by Ingrid. Leaving Alexia to replay the last 10 minutes, desperately. Mapi saw the moment that realisation came to the Catalan Captain, as she bolted out of the changing room, hair damp, throwing her shirt on as she sprinted back into the stadium. Which is where she found you, moments later. You were sitting in the friends and family section, Alexias new baby cousin settled onto your knee, playing with your hands and babbling to himself. You made cooing noises and spoke softly to him and all her Tias and Tios got rounded up for your meal out. You felt her presence behind you, you could practically feel her anxiety coming off her in waves. You looked back quickly and confirmed your suspicions, her blonde hair damp and wetting her shoulders, her foot twisting against the concrete floor, hands knotted together and bottom lip drawn into her lip, chewing anxiously. “It’s fine Alex.” you said, as you turned, attention back on the baby in your lap. She must have seen this acknowledgement as her body surged towards you, she loudly collapsed into the seat next to you, the anxiety coming off her in waves. “Conej…” she started. “No Alex, I pr…pr… I swear. It’s okay. But I’m currently holding the ba…bab…ba… child.” you take a sigh. “I am holding the child and I don’t want to cry so p…please. It’s okay.” If it's possible. She looked even more devastated. Her whole face collapsed. She hated when you would revert to old techniques to speak, by changing up your words mid sentence. Alexia was your protector. It was her proudest badge. Before she was a footballer, in her mind, she was your partner. And she had let you down. She had done the worst thing she could have done. To an outsider Alexia's moment of impatience may have been a minor indiscretion at most. But to you? To Alex? It was the basis of your whole relationship. You felt safe with her. You had a voice, she said, all those years ago when you fell in love, and you deserved to be heard. And now she has brought that into question. “Can I touch you?” she asked, gently. This brought tears to your eyes and you nodded, whilst still entertaining the baby in your lap with coo’s and a false smile. She touched your knee, the heat of her hand bleeding into your skin. “You don’t need to mask in front of me y/f/n.” Alexia never used your name. “Please. Use the words you want to use. I am here to listen. Always.” You are interrupted as Alexias Tia comes to claim her baby, who you hand back with a last pat on the stomach and raspberry to the cheek. You are trying to avoid the next 5 minutes you know will happen. Alexia is somewhat rude when her Tia offers her congratulations, eyes boreing into your head. You sweep your hair back as you face her, having had a moment to think you get your words out easier. “Alex, it’s okay. It was bound to happen one day. Don’t worry about it. Please. Go out with your friends. I will go to the meal as planned. I promise. Alba will drive me home later.” “No.” Alexia says desperately, clutching your hand in hers, “Let’s just go home, amor. Please.” “Ale I made a promise to your mami. I am going to eat. I will see you later.” you press a kiss to her cheek and wander off towards her family.  As she stands, watching you interact with her sister and her mami, her teammates call her over. She feels torn. She just wants to go home with you. She just wants to wrap you up in cotton wool and keep you in her arms. Safe. But you don’t want that right now, so she turns to do as instructed. Throwing one more glance your way, missing Albas worried face as she wipes a tear from your cheek.

Lonely and forgotten Never thought she'd look my way And she smiled at me and held me Just like she used to do Like she loved me When she loved me

You came home early. You asked if Alba could drop you off as soon as you had finished your meal. She was happy to oblige, worried about your silence the entire meal. You were looking down at your phone as you entered your apartment. Assuring Mapi again that you were fine and she should enjoy her drinks. You go to flick on the light in the living area when a stream of light below the door of your studio distracts you. You push the door open cautiously and see Alexia standing there, looking at your work in progress. It was different to your usual work. A close up sketch of a hand, wrapped around a flower, tenderly, it was in the early stages, you could see the lines of the palm and the blades of grass in the field behind. It was mounted onto canvas on your easel and the splashes of colour you had started to add contrasted against the paleness of the room. She hadn’t heard you enter, too lost in the image before her, but Pabs making a run for the door as it opened brought her attention to you. As you stand there, under her gaze, you struggle to remember the last time you saw Alexia in your studio. Yeah she would bob in to let you know dinner was ready, or that she was heading out, but she didn’t come in often enough to take in your work anymore. Now it wasn’t forced on her in the living space. It seemed Alexia had the same realisation as she broke her gaze with you and gestured towards your painting, and then further, to your desk overlooking the window, where more of your work lay. “You’re amazing. I didn’t… I.” a deep breath. “I hadn’t forgotten but I think I… Got lost? Somewhere along the way?” you tilt your head curiously. You don’t know what she’s talking about. “I have been a bad partner to you.” 

“Alex…” “No. I have. And I’m not interrupting you but I won’t let you lie to protect me.” her eyes go again to your easel. “You’re amazing. You are so talented. You are filled with so much kindness. You deserve so much more than this.” her eyes fill with tears and she looks at you. “I tried. You know? I promise I did. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought this,” she gestures towards you and around you “was what you deserved. And it is. But more than that you deserve everything.” She takes a step towards you and grasps your hands with hers, her hands are cold, you note. As you take her in you see dried tear tracks down her cheeks, and… damp hair. “Alexia, did you not go out with the team?” “How do you think that I could go out with the team after what I did?” she asks, aghast. The reminder of the way the evening went washes over you. Alexia panics when she sees your eyes fill with tears. And she pulls you into her chest. “I am so, so sorry mi amor. I am so sorry” she whispers into your hair. “I have broken something sacred between us. And I will never forgive myself.” she swears to you. Though that doesnt bring you any joy. “I forgive you Alex.” she shakes her head in despair, joining you in tears. “You said it was bound to happen someday,” she starts, “Do not think like that amor. It was not. This is not your fault. In any way. It is mine. Please don’t think that, you deserve to be heard. I am so so sorry. So sorry. I will never do it again, promesa.”  All you can do is nod into her chest.

She pulls you from the room and settles you both into the sofa, keeping the light off, only the skyline of the city illuminating your living room through the large, glassed wall. 

She lets you cry into her t-shirt, soaking it more than her damp hair, and through the darkness you pull away and take in her face, she looks youthful. Gone, the professional make up, the expensive jewellery, and hair darkened by the dampness from her shower. You take in a large choked breath. “We need to talk.” you let out. Fear takes over her features and she starts to shake her head. “No, Mi Conejito please no, don’t do this.” she wails. It is a heart wrenching sound. She thinks she's going to be sick. “Woah, woah, woah” you place your hands on her cheeks and pull her panicked eyes to yours; “Mi amor I am not breaking up with you.” you state, clearly. “I am not. Now breathe with me.” Her eyes steady from their darting around the room in fear, and you place your hand on her chest, making her breathe with you. “Okay, okay… okay. Yes, please. Talk to me.” she begs, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs.  “I feel alone. I feel… sa…sad. A lot of the time. And I know… you y…you aren’t doing it on pur…purpose.” Your girlfriend looks heartbroken. Like she had just found out her entire family had died. But refuses to interrupt you as you speak. But you have needed this conversation for so long, that the words start to tumble out of you. Getting lodged in your throat. Har large hand comes up to that familiar place, and massages the soft tissue behind your jaw. Trying to help you without interrupting. “You aren’t doing it on purpose.” you repeat. She pauses for a moment and doesn't ask what you thought she would. “Why am I making you anxious?” she asks, cutting through your thoughts. You move away from her and settle your elbows to your knees. Rubbing your face as you feel a large hand settle onto your back. You hated your stutter. You hated that it ruled your life, but most of all you hated how it exposed you. You were like a child who can’t hide a blush in front of their crush. “You aren’t, Alexia.” “Alex.” she corrects, “I am Alex to you” she insists, “your Alex. It’s just me, mi amor.” she looks at you desperately. “I feel alone, you are never here, and when you are here physically, you aren’t here in your head. Your head is in the clouds, it is with your agent, with your coach, it is not with me.” you’ve started now, so you won’t be able to stop yourself “it is me and Pabs and, even though you're dumb as bricks bebe, you're a better conversationalist than him” you try to joke, a half smile on your face. Which she matches, hand not stopping her ministrations on your back. 

“I cannot remember the last time we just sat together, the last time that we cooked together. Can you Alex?” you don’t receive a reply, 

“I haven’t had your eyes, look at me, really look at me for months. You give your time so easily to those around you, your team mates, people I see you out with at events. I can’t blame you, this is what you always dreamed of. But… I miss you.” Your speech is strong now; “and I love you. That will never change. But you need to know how I am feeling. So it's fair to you. I feel as though you are bigger than the world. And I am just the girl you saved in the art room.” She is openly crying now. “Don’t say that, you are everything” she mumbled, through tears. 

She knew that she had been busy. But she didn’t realise the damage that she had done. She had been to events, you had been at her side. But. When was the last time she asked about a wedding you’d worked? God, you used to sit for hours describing the beautiful scenes, and she’d store away ideas for your own wedding.  The last gallery you had shown at? When had she last visited your mami and papi, who had been there for her her entire life? She kept you off social media for your protection, but she didn’t mean to erase you. When had she become so god damn selfish. “Amor, I think that somewhere along the way, I had forgotten, and forgotten to remind you. There are more important things than football. Well. Football is second”.

You are thrown back to a memory, a school championship 15 years ago, sat on the bleachers watching your school get destroyed. The lanky football captain sat by your side. You can’t help it but tears fill your eyes. You missed her. That girl. The one you were and the one she was. “But.. you told me once, that I could have both.” she whispered, into your neck, “and you can, Alex. Of course you can. But you have to want both. And at the moment. It feels. It feels like you don’t want me.” “No! Mi Amor, Mi Vida, Mi Conejito. You are everything. Eres mi mundo. I am nothing without you.” she takes a breath, deep and shuddering. “I will fix this. Thank you for telling me how you feel. I have a chance to fix this. Si?” she asks, desperately. You nod, “Of course Alex, and it's for both of us to fix, I should have said something sooner.” She refuses your admittance of guilt and drags you into bed. She sticks to you like a second skin. Moves with you to brush your teeth. Standing waiting whilst you use the toilet. She places a fresh glass of water on your bedside table.You want to tell her to give you a bit of space, but the fear in her eyes prevents you from doing so. As soon as you crawl into your side of the bed she has pulled you into her embrace and the warmth that fills you goes beyond the shared body heat. For the first time in a long time, you wake up in the strong arms of Alexia. She hasn’t moved in the night an inch, and you take a moment to take her in. This is what you missed. Just breathing the same air as her. Just existing in the same space. As though she can feel you looking at her she begins to stir. Taking a moment to come to her senses, her arms grip you tighter around your waist. “Hola, Mi amor” she whispers into the air. Your response is a kiss to her lips, which she steals, hungrily. As you deepen the kiss you feel her begin to pull away. “Lo siento, mi amor, we cannot get carried away. Things to do.” your heart hurts again. You roll off the taller girl and reach for your phone as a distraction. 

You thought, maybe, just maybe, for today at least. You would spend the day together. “Things to do!” she repeats, jumping out of bed with glee. “Where’s your passport”. That grabs your attention. “Que?” you ask, confusingly. “Your passport amor, Vamos!” She had long ago left the bed, and had started moving around the room, picking up various bags which had definitely not been there when you went to bed and moving them into the hallway. She was like a ball of energy, she stripped off her oversized t-shirt she had worn to bed, leaving her standing in just her boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight. Well, you think, at least all the time not spent with you was doing something good. You find yourself in a trance, practically salivating at your view.

A change of clothes being thrown at your head brings you out of your stupor. “Dressed. Go.” Alexia teases you, definitely having caught you starting. This makes you finally start to move as you shrug on the jogging bottoms and hoodie she threw at you. Happily, you note, it's one of hers that you’ve already destroyed with paint marks on the cuffs. “Why do you need my passport Alex? What's with the bags?” “We’re going on vacation!” That stops you, half in, and half out of your hoodie. Getting yourself stuck. “Vacation?” you ask, voice muffled by the fabric. You hear Alexia make her way over to you, then feel her gently pull you free from your fabric prison. “Si…” she gently tells you. A look overcomes her face which you can’t distinguish, then she kisses your nose, softly. “Vacation. Just me and you amor.”

“But what about work?” you ask, still catching up. “You don’t have anything booked for 6 days, I checked your calendar. And where we are going, you can bring all your art things if you need them. I’ve packed the basics in my carry-on already.” “Not my work. Alex, your work. You have a busy week.” at this point you seem to have lost her attention as she turns to your question dismissively. “I cancelled it.” she replies, simply. “You cancelled it.” you repeat. “Si.” “Alexia! Have you lost your mind! You have training, you have that meeting with Oakley - you have the pre-euros media to do! You have a game in 3 days”  you reel off her calendar, watching as she continues to dress and pack her toiletries. She heaves out a sigh and turns back to you.

“Conejito, I know what I had, you don’t need to tell me I have just spent all night cancelling all of them. I spoke to Jona and he’s happy for me to miss the game. The rest of it doesn’t matter.” she moves closer to you again, “So no, I have not lost my mind. But, I did almost lose you, so please. Please tell me where your passport is so we can get on the plane I booked. Mapi will be here in a moment to take Pabs for the week.”  You find yourself standing there, stunned. She seemingly had thought of everything. You look into the hall at the bags packed there ready to go. Pabs sniffed them curiously. She’s looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. There's nothing else for you to do you suppose. As you turn from her and open your bedside table,  a smile can’t be kept off your face, you turn triumphantly with your passport held high. “Voila!” you present it to her; “What are you waiting for then Alex! We've got a plane to catch!” as you scurry out of the room and you hear the front door knock. Alexias cackle behind you. Alexia was always full of surprises when she wanted to be and she remained tight lipped all the way to the airport, refusing to tell you your destination. 

You assumed it would be one of the islands somewhere, with the size of her luggage maybe somewhere farther afield, sun, sea and a pool somewhere promised. But she shocked you. When you got to the check in desk and realised you were flying to Switzerland you could have been knocked down with a feather. Your Alex, who was upset when she even had to wear a bikini top in the month of August, has booked for you to go to Switzerland? 

She ignored your curious stare and just continued to sweet talk the check in lady, upgrading you to business class. As you descended hours later, between the snow peaked mountains against a stunning orange sun you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your hands itched to claim the sketch book from Alexias carry on. Soon, after collecting your luggage and Alexia picking up a hire car that has also been pre booked (seriously did this girl sleep at all the night before?), you found yourself being driven through a mountain forest, as a lodge that seemed to cling to the mountainside came into view, isolated and beautiful. You stood on the wooden balcony, hands gripping a warm drink as you took in the view of the sun setting behind the mountains. “Look at that, Amor.” you felt, more than heard, whispered against your ear. Lips planting a kiss at your jaw as strong hands settle over your stomach. 

You fell back into her embrace. “It’s so beautiful.” you replied, eyes focused on the scene before you. “I saw this advert. Months ago.” she continued. “Just in the back of a catalogue at work. They will have the Euros near here, you know, 2025?” That made you snort with laughter. “Ah, I see Putellas, now it makes sense how you’ve been dragged from the beach, scoping out the environment are we? Anything for that competitive edge.” your teasing is clear in your voice. 

You feel a pinch on your stomach, “No, idiota,” though the laugh is clear in her voice. “I saw that advert and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It is so beautiful here.” you hum in agreement, “But what I could not get out of my head was that I wanted you to see it. I love seeing the world through your eyes.” 

She turns you in her embrace and she places a gentle kiss to your forehead as you feel her breathe you in. “You see things so beautifully, Amor, and then you paint them for the world to see. You are so special.” Your heart melts at the blonde, and you feel some of the despair that had settled into your stomach over the last months shrink. Here Alexia was, at work, flicking through some promotional material between interviews and training, and her thoughts are with you. “And I will not let you forget how special you are, ever. Never again”. You spent those days in pure bliss. You spend the days hiking - her pretending to be as tired as you at the peak of a mountain, she was a terrible actress but you appreciate the sentiment non the less - having picnics, exploring the mountain villages, and on one particularly spicy day, skinny dipping in an isolated mountain lake that a swiss teammate had told Alexia about. Evenings were spent looking up at the stars together, you firmly in alexias lap on the balcony, sharing a glass of wine which you held. She pointed out stars that her Papa had shown her and given silly names to, and you were there to catch her tears. She would complain only minimally that she was cold, and you would offer to warm her up and she would lead you gently into the bedroom. Nights spent in each other's embrace, sighs shared and no alarms to wake you. You would dance around the kitchen, play cards at the table, share wine and stories and just catch up. 

The pit in your stomach mended with each kiss, each peel of laughter and each stroke of the skin. 

One evening, after the skinny dipping adventure in which the footballer insisted that she must have hypothermia and had taken herself off over an hour ago telling you she wasn’t coming out of the warm shower until she had become a prune. You had started to add the finishing touches to a sketch of the scene beyond your lodges window when you felt the blonde return into the room, You eyed her quickly, flannel tartan pyjamas covering her tall frame, hanging over her wrists, matching shorts which are despicably short. Fuzzy socks on her feet. She looked absolutely adorable. 

You didn’t know why she was staring at you though, She moved towards you and you made space for her on the couch.  “You have your glasses on, Conejita.” she mumbled, and you reached up, as though to confirm they were on your face, “I didn’t know you still wore them.” You didn’t, too be honest, but with the long day of fresh air and a strong sun on the mountainside your eyes had grown tired. You shrugged at her, as she placed a soft kiss on your lips. Lovesick look in her eyes. “You’re so hot.” She mumbled, more to herself. You hear though, and the blush runs up your neck. 

You moved to get your work off your lap but she stopped you, pulling you back into her embrace and you automatically moved your knees up to rest your sketchbook there. “Carry on, please.” her chin rested on your shoulder. You hesitated, you didn’t come all this way to not spend time with the blonde, you wanted to soak in every minute. You wouldn’t be happy if she started to kick a ball around in the kitchen. She could sense your hesitation, “please. Remember, I like the sound of your pencil.” she moves your free hand to her bare thigh, “and it gives me goosebumps.” You fell in love again over those 6 days. You never fell out of it. But maybe you both just needed reminding. You felt whole, your communication about how you were feeling had worked, Alexia had listened. You just had one worry though, as the plane landed back in Barna you couldn’t hold it in. “Alex.” you said, before the seatbelt sign came on, gripping her arm lightly. “This was the best trip of my life. Thank you.” Her smile cracked her face, and she looked immensely proud of herself. “Mine too, Amor.” she agreed, easily, her face was peaceful . “But. I can’t go back to how things were again, si? I don’t think I could survive it, not after this week.” she's already shaking her head. “It won’t, I promise. I will not let that happen. Me and you, Si? That is all that is important” you take a moment, “And Pabs.” you amend for her, breaking the tension. “Si, of course” she rolls her eyes, “and Pablo Petcatso.” 

When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart When she loved me

“Hey, Al?” you shout, into the living room as you enter your flat. It's been a few weeks since you returned from your impromptu get away. A busy few weeks. You have been booked up and Alex had to make up for the time she had lost, Barca were still in 4 competitions so the match load was heavy. You could see she was trying though, so that made the darkness that had started to creep back in more bearable. She wasn’t home from training yet. Which disappointed you more than usual. You were giddy. 

You had just found out that your art had been selected to be shown at a huge gallery opening in the centre of the city. An established and high-end gallery. It was a big deal, and it was potentially your big break. You got flutters in your stomach even thinking about the commissions it could make you. Pabs popped his head around the door and you picked him up giddily and span him around, his meow in response you took as a congratulations as you danced and laughed. You didn’t hear the door behind you open but you heard your favourite voice in the world, “And what have I walked into here, hey, a party with my favourite two? Without me?” Alexia laughed.  “Alex, we're celebrating!” you let Pabs free from your grip as he scurried away from his crazy mama. Her arms loop around you as you move into a slow dance, grinning up at her; “Ah, Si? And what are we celebrating?” “I got chosen! For the gallery!” Your feet leave the floor as the taller girl fully brings you into her arms, lifting you and spinning you around in glee, the squeal she lets out is full of childlike joy. “Of course you did! You are amazing!” she plops you back down and attacks your face with kisses. “I’m so proud of you Mi Amor and I am so excited to see your gallery. Oh I can get all dressed up and be your arm piece!” The thought brings you pure joy, the image of Alexia standing by your side, proudly, champagne in hand. Your Mami and Papi and Eli and Alba all present. Pabs in a little bow tie. “Si?” you ask, shyly, much more used to being by her side, “You’ll come? It is in 4 weeks. The 16th. You should be just starting on break.” A shadow of sadness passes her face at your insecurity, “Amor even if I was not on break I would not miss this for the world. If I had the world cup final I would call in sick. I will be there.  I will be the girl with the biggest bouquet of flowers in all of Barna with the lovesick look on her face.” It had been a whirlwind of a month, you had to put the finishing touches on your pieces. 

You have chosen to showcase your best landscapes. 

Scenes from the road to Valencia, The Square in Mollett, Beach Scenes in Barca, Snow capped mountains of Switzerland.

It was the story of your love for Alexia. Told through scenes only the two of you could understand the significance of. 

In the week leading up to the opening, you would spend late nights at the gallery, setting up lighting with Mapi and your Papi. Eli would walk around straightening frames on the walls. As you settled into bed each night, Alexia would open her arms and bring you into her warn embrace. 

You couldn’t wait to share your love story with the world. Alexia was having a bad day. It started bad. And continued to be bad. First, she woke up alone, which she hated. 

She recalled a kiss to the forehead and a whispered ‘I'll see you later’ before she'd dozed back off.  Then she realised that she had forgotten to charge her phone and was therefore late to training. Well. Not late for normal people. But late for Alexia. Then she forgot her socks and had to steal some of Irenes. She had a bad training session and Patri beat her in all their 1v1’s. And then the icing on the cake. She was dragged out from her gym session to do media which she hated. By the time she had finished the changing rooms were mostly empty, with only Pina and Patri left, scheming together in a corner.

“Ah now, Capi! Turn that frown upside down!” Pina teased her, “Ay, come out for a drink with me and Patri, the girls are all coming later, a bonding session before the break!”

And Alexia would usually say no, she wasn’t one for massive social events. But a drink sounded good. And it was the last day of training before the break.

Which is how she found herself 4 drinks in, deep in a booth in Patris favourite bar downtown. Most of the girls had joined them and laughter and chatter filled the roped off space. Something was missing and it took Alexia a moment to realise that there wasn’t a yapping in her ear.

“Ay, Pina, where are Mapi and Ingrid?” 

“They text the group, they had something on but they’re going to join us after. Ah… here they are!” Pina turned as Patri dragged her to the dance floor. Alexia turned to where Pina had pointed and saw Ingrid and Mapi walking towards her. She smiled and raised her hand in a wave, as they got closer she took in their state of dress; “Ay, sexy mamas, it’s only a night out with the team. Why are you dressed so nice? Have you just come from your wedding?” Mapi looked at Alexia. But really, really looked at her. “What?” nothing. “Maria, what? Why are you looking at me like that? Ingrid?” she faced the usually kind woman but she wasn’t met with her usual smile, “What’s happening? Wh-ohmygod.” It hit Alexia like a freight train. Like 10 freight trains. She physically had to hold onto the chair to her side to remain standing.  “No, no, no, I didn’t, I couldn’t have done.” She starts to pat herself down and pulls her phone out, dead, still uncharged from the night before. She holds it up to Mapi, as evidence, evidence of what she doesn’t know. As though it gives her a lifeline. She knows it doesn’t. “Ingrid? Ingrid please tell me I didn’t miss it.” she asks, desperately. The tall girl looks away, as though she can’t even face what the captain had done. “Alexia.” The rage is barely contained in Mapis' voice. “I can’t even look at you.” Mapi turns to leave, but it's as though her anger wont let her; she turns again and spits out; “Do you think she needed a reminder on her phone to know when the Champions League final was? Do you think… I can’t… I have just come from her gallery opening. Her life's work. A life shared with you. And here you are. At a bar. Celebrating, what?  A game of football? A half season well done? Fuck off. Seriously. Fuck. Off” Ingrid grips her hand and tries to pull her away. All Alexia can do is stand there and take it, it's not a hundredth of what she deserves. “No Ingrid.” She pulls her hand free and pushes her finger into Alexia's chest. “You are a selfish monster. She thought you must be hurt. That's what she thought. She thought you were in a ditch somewhere. She almost cancelled the whole thing to run around hospitals to find you. But then Alba saw you on Patris instagram. And here you are. La Reina.” Mapi looks her up and down, pure disgust on her face. “Your Mamis held her as she sobbed. Alba redid her makeup. I would steer clear of her Papi for months if I were you. She is strong, and she gave a speech.” Alexia couldn’t breathe. You gave a speech? She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there.  “Please, Maria, stop. I can’t listen.” Alexia couldn’t take it. She moved Mapis' hand off her chest and ran to the door of the club. One thought in her mind. Get to you. Get to you. “It's too late Alexia.” Mapi shouts to her back. She ignores her. It can’t be. No It can't be. She jumps out of the uber onto the unfamiliar street. The lights to the gallery are off but she desperately tries the door regardless. Banging on it with her fist in frustration. She lets out a scream into the empty street. Peering through the windows she sees wall after wall of your work. Scenes she recognises from her life. Football pitches. Beaches, Mountains. The scene from your balcony in Mollet. It was all so beautiful. So carefully curated. And she wasn’t there. She takes off at a run. It’s not too late. Mapi is wrong. It’s not too late. She will die if it is too late. “Y/N!” she barged into the apartment. She must have ran 10 miles. “Y/N are you here?” She runs from room to room. But there is no one there. When that's established she plugs her phone into the charger on the breakfast bar and makes her way back through the apartment. She goes into the bedroom. No, please no. The wardrobe is open, your side is empty. She looks around. Your things are gone.

The kitchen remains largely unaffected. Though the picture of you and your parents no longer sits on the shelf. Your trainers are gone from the hall. Your favourite blanket from the couch. She looks at the walls. Anything you had painted. Gone. Alexia always insisted that your art be on the walls, in each home you shared together. “Why would I want strangers work on the walls, Mi Amor? When I have the best artist in the world here?” she would say, making you blush. She was addicted to that blush. She walks back into the hallway. One picture remains in pride of place. The picture you presented to her in her darkest moment. You would never take that away from her. It was a gift of pure adoration. All it does is make the stabbing pain in Alexia's heart worsen. She pushes open the door to your art studio. All that remains are paints and blank canvases. Except. In the middle of the room. The easel. A picture she had seen before, in its early stages. A hand. A hand holding a beautiful flower. But it had changed somehow. Pressure lines had appeared. The flower beginning to wilt under the force. It wasn’t your usual work. Alexia stood closer. Entranced. As she inspected the image she saw the light tease off still wet paint. You had touched this up recently. Her eyes search, frantically for anything of your last moments in the apartment when she catches it. Too light for anyone not searching for it. 11. Blended into skin at the wrist of the image. A tattoo. So lightly painted but it etched itself fiercely into Alexia's soul. This was her hand. This hand that was silently destructive, was hers.  She saw a post it note stuck to the leg of the easel and in your looping handwriting: ‘Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting that they won't use it.’

She brought her hand up to her mouth and let out an audible gasp. She runs into the kitchen and dry heaves over the sink. There, she watches as her tears splash into the marble. And as she watches. She takes note of a single paint droplet. Her tears joined it, creating the most heart crushing piece of work she had ever seen.

God. She used to get so angry at that paint in the sink.

It's been years, she thought, years since she found paint in the sink. How much did you have to lessen yourself in order to be with her?

She collapsed into a seated position. Back against the kitchen cabinet. And brought her knees to her chest. She sobbed. And sobbed. She was joined at one point by Pabs. She thought you’d taken him with you. But no, in a typical act of kindness you wouldn’t leave her alone in her despair.

His little bow tie still sat around his neck, skew-whiff, as he looked at his mama curiously. He licked her nose and she sobbed harder.

Weeks passed.

She doesn’t know how she got through those weeks. Thousands of missed calls. Hundreds of messages. Went unanswered.

Alexia didn’t hear from you. Her Mami and Alba had forgiven her after Alba had found her in a state and unable to look after herself but they made it clear they were on your side. Mapi wouldnt look at her. They wouldn't tell her where you were, they wouldn’t pass on any message.

She was too frightened to go to your Mami and Papa.

She hadn’t trained well for weeks, She arrived at training exhausted. Sleep would never find her. She was barely clinging on. Jona still insisted she play. She was La Reina.

And then she broke. And that's where Irene found her, after another match of lacklustre performance. In a back corridor of the stadium. Broken and staring at the wall in front of her.

A ghost of the woman she was. 

Her phone lay next to her. A message from you. A response to her apologies, her thoughts, the pain she had told you she felt for your failed relationship. 

Finally, Word you were alive. 

3 words in fact. “It’ll pass Alexia.”

[bunji-enthusiast]

Sʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ Oɴ Tʜᴇ Bʟᴀᴄᴋᴛᴏᴘ ⵊⵊ

Summary || Finally, you could do the one thing you’d be waiting for. But it certainly brought new developments, something you never expected. Especially with the same guy you could seemingly never get rid of.

WC: 5k

A/N: finally! Got this out, this is actually the last part but it didn’t seem to take as long to divide up. Apologies if you were waiting for this. Domestic fluff… save me, save me.

Part 1 | part 2 (here)

It had been days since the fight with the Lizard League, and two days since your own visit to Rex’s room, and though the hospital stay wasn’t long enough to drive you completely insane, the lingering ache in your body kept you awake some nights. You still couldn’t shake the way you’d watched Rex in battle, reckless yet... almost fearless. Maybe it was his usual bravado, but there was a part of you that worried about him more than you cared to admit.

That was pretty damn evident, especially with all that's been happening. Even within the quiet humming of the hospital. 

And then there was the prosthetic.

You hadn’t meant to pry during his visits. It’s just... you’d heard the faint clinking of metal, an odd sound that didn’t seem to fit with Rex's usual swagger. So when he’d come by to check on you, a small part of you couldn’t ignore it.

“Hey,” you said, propped up in bed, the sound of your voice unexpectedly hoarse. “Your hand...”

Rex froze. You’d caught him mid-laugh—he’d been making some ridiculous joke about how Monster Girl was going to tear into Invincible for looking too soft in the next fight. But at your words, his smile faltered, and his gaze slid downward toward the hand resting against his knee.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We can talk about that if you want. But seriously, you’re looking a lot better. That Lizard League fight—shit was crazy.”

“Right,” You frown, lips pursed in thought. “I still don’t understand what happened, I’m sure I passed out, like halfway through the fight.” Rex just nods in confirmation, keeping his flesh hand at the back of his neck. Eyes seemingly still on you, or somewhere where you had been most injured. 

“S’normal to pass out,” He grins, letting his shoulders deflate. His gait was incredibly gaunt. 

You then ignored his attempt to shift the focus away from him. "What happened?" you asked, your voice gentle now. “You didn’t exactly look... fine when I last saw you.”

Rex hesitated, looking at you for a moment. There was a flicker of something behind his eyes, like he was considering whether to lie or not. You knew Rex wasn’t one to sugarcoat things, but his pride always seemed to come first.

“It’s... It’s fine,” he said, his tone light but not entirely convincing. “Just got some upgrades. Helps me do what I do. And now, I’ve got a new hand to mess things up with. Feels almost... right.”

You raised an eyebrow. "Upgrades, huh? Not the kind of thing you usually talk about. This one looks... different."

He shot you a sideways grin, but there was a quiet wariness in his eyes. "Guess you could say I got a little too... close to the action this time. Lost a hand in the process, but I’m still here, right?" His attempt at humor didn’t quite mask the weariness that came with it.

Something about the way he said it, the way he still tried to act like he was fine, made your chest tighten. You couldn't help but imagine what it would have been like, him on the floor, fighting for his life while you were still passed out during the fight. 

“I know you’re tough, Rex,” you said quietly. “But you don’t have to pretend you’re invincible all the time. You can be... you know, human, too.”

Invincibility be damned. 

It was the same, but important. You wanted him to know you were here for him, not just in the fights, but also mentally. Trying to bear the weight of it all was hard to do, and you felt for him, too much perhaps. One part of you had considered just leaving things as is, but another part of you had persisted against the thought. 

The words hung between you both for a moment. Rex’s jaw clenched, and for a second, he looked like he was about to argue, but then he sighed and leaned back in the chair. "Everybody fucks up," he said, almost like a mantra, one of his famous phrases. His green eyes met yours, but there was something vulnerable behind them, a crack in his usual bravado. "Even me."

You could feel your heart stutter at that admission, something about it resonating deeper than you expected. Maybe it was the way his voice softened just slightly, or the faint hint of pain that lurked beneath his words. It was rare to see Rex let down his walls like this, and you almost didn’t know how to handle it.

You shifted in your bed, wincing a little as you propped yourself up. “Hey,” you started again, the words coming out more carefully this time, “I—I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just... I guess I was just thinking about you, y’know?”

Rex’s expression softened at your words. "Yeah," he said, his voice quieter than usual. "I get it."

And for a moment, there was silence. Not the usual awkward kind that Rex’s sarcastic remarks often filled, but something other—something that left you both sitting there, just... existing in the same space. He wasn’t looking at you like he normally did, with that teasing, cocky smirk. This time, he was just... there. Real.

God, that was happening way more often. 

You almost couldn’t believe it.

He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. "I’ll be out of your hair soon enough. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You know, with all the shit we just went through." His voice had a trace of his usual cocky edge, but it was softened, more grounded. “If you need anything... don’t hesitate to ask, really.”

You offered him a small smile, the flicker of something warm running through you at the sincerity in his tone. It was the same way he’d acted before, back when he had that rough-around-the-edges, unfiltered charm. But now... it was a little different. You could see more behind the mask of sarcasm.

“Thanks, Rex,” you said, voice low. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

But as you watched him, a part of you wondered if there was more to the way he’d said it. You wanted to say something, to ask him if he really meant it, or if it was just another one of his careless remarks.

But then, as if on cue, Rex stood up, the weight of his cybernetic hand shifting as he gave you a mock salute. “Well, I’ve gotta go. Some hero shit to do. Don’t get into too much trouble without me, alright?”

And just like that, the moment passed.

The hum of the hospital room had become oddly comforting, the sterile scent of antiseptic mingling with the faint smell of fresh flowers that someone—probably Amanda—had left near the windowsill. You were still recovering, but not as severely as before. The worst of it was behind you, the ache in your side a dull throb now rather than the searing pain it had been a few days ago.

Rex had been sticking around more than you expected. Maybe it was because you were both still reeling from the aftermath of the mission, or maybe it was just you, because he really didn’t know what else to do. You didn’t mind it. In fact, you kind of liked having him there. His sarcastic jokes, the way he lazily lounged on the edge of your bed, always pushing back against whatever sense of normal you tried to establish.

Today, though, it felt a little different. Rex seemed to be in one of those moods where he wasn’t trying to provoke you or get under your skin. His usual banter was there, of course, but it had a different tone, a quieter one. He was leaning against the wall across from you, his arms crossed, eyes half-lidded, but there was something almost thoughtful in his expression.

“How’s the pain today?” he asked, his voice less sharp than usual. His eyes lingered on you, scanning your body like he was checking for any signs of new injuries. It was rare for Rex to show much concern—at least not in a way that didn’t come with an edge of snark—but now, his concern was clear.

You shook your head, ‘I should be asking you that.’ you think, but you humor his concern. The warmth of it eases your weary heart. “It’s better,” you replied with a small smile. “Just a little sore. I can probably move around more soon.”

“Good,” he nodded, shifting on his feet. “I’m getting tired of watching you lay there looking all… delicate.” 

You had questioned how Rex was moving around better than you did—considering your struggles with just even walking simple enough during your visits to his room—but then again, most of the damage was done to your legs. Near the midsection of your torso and pelvis floor. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, even if the joke wasn’t all that funny. “I’m not delicate, Rex. You should’ve seen me a few days ago. You’d be calling me ‘fragile’ by now.”

Rex snorted, pushing himself off the wall with a lazy roll of his shoulders. “Yeah, well, I’ve got a reputation to uphold. I can’t have people thinking I’m into fragile little heroes.” He winked at you, and there was that mischievous glint in his eyes again.

You couldn’t quite stop yourself from smiling at his teasing, despite the slight warmth spreading across your cheeks. But when you caught yourself, you quickly shifted the conversation, wanting to get back to something more grounded. Something safe.

“So, what’ve you been up to?” You shifted in the bed, propping yourself up a little with the pillow. “Besides glaring at doctors who tell you to leave when visiting hours are over.”

Rex winced, clearly remembering the incident. “Oh, yeah. That was fun.” He grinned, rolling his eyes. “I don’t get why they can’t just let me stay, y’know? I’m fine. I’m like a walking human grenade. Just… let me stay. No harm in it.”

You smirked, shaking your head. “Yeah, I’m sure that went over great.”

“Eh, not really,” he said with a shrug, flopping back down into the chair beside your bed. “But anyway, I’ve been trying to keep my mind off things. You know, getting some rest and… thinking about stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure of where he was going with this, but you let him continue.

“Stuff like…” He hesitated for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Like maybe figuring out what to do next. I mean, you’re out of action for a bit, right?”

“Yeah, doc said a few more days of bed rest, then I can probably start training again. Hopefully.”

“Good. But after that?” He shot you a side glance, his usual cocky demeanor back in full swing. “You and I gotta get back to kicking ass together, yeah? I mean, what’s next? Maybe take on a few low-level baddies, start working on those big plans we’ve been talking about.”

You laughed lightly. “Big plans, huh? What, like the ones where you throw a building at someone because they looked at you wrong?”

“Exactly. But—” He paused, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest of the chair, his gaze a little distant now. “You know, I was thinking more about, I dunno, bigger changes. Like... how things have been kinda different lately. Between us. You know?”

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes narrowing in curiosity. “Different, how?”

Rex shifted uncomfortably, but you could tell he wasn’t just stalling for time. This wasn’t just Rex splashing around in his usual bravado. This was something… else.

“Like, uh, how I’ve been, you know, spending more time here.” He ran a hand through his hair, clearly unsure of how to approach the conversation. “Not that I mind. Just… I don’t know, maybe it’s time for some changes. Maybe… we could make things easier.”

You tilted your head, sensing the shift in his words. “Changes? What kind of changes?”

Rex seemed to hesitate, like he was tip-toeing around the subject, but you had to admit—you were feeling the same pull, the same weird longing that you had been trying to ignore. Maybe it was the aftermath of the mission, or maybe it was the quiet, shared moments between the two of you, but something had shifted. The walls between you felt thinner, and Rex wasn’t exactly making it any easier to pretend like nothing was happening.

“Well, y’know, with me… and you… here,” he trailed off, and then he shot you a quick look, like he was trying to gauge your reaction. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we, like, got a place together. Y’know, after everything. The whole heroes living together vibe.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you had to blink a couple of times to process what he just said. “Wait, what? You mean like... moving in together?” Your voice was quieter now, almost a little nervous.

Rex leaned back in his chair, giving you a sidelong glance, his usual bravado fading just a bit. “Yeah, I mean… why not? I’m around here all the time anyway. And let’s be honest, you can’t get rid of me at this point. You’ve been putting up with me for, what, a few months now?”

The few months in question being more than a few years. Though, you had only started not long after he debuted as a hero himself. 

Your heart was racing now. The way he said it was casual, like it was just a simple thing, but you could hear the weight behind it. The potential. The idea of you both taking that step—of being more than just teammates, more than just friends.

You swallowed, the words getting caught in your throat. “I… hadn’t really thought about it. But I guess that could work. We’re kind of already inseparable anyway, huh?”

Rex smirked, but this time it was different, softer. “Yeah, you know it. And it’s not like you’re going to find anyone who can put up with your weirdness better than me.”

You laughed, but the feeling that had settled between you both was undeniable now. There was something in the air, something that lingered like a spark waiting to catch fire. It wasn’t a declaration, not yet—but it was something, and it felt right in a way you hadn’t expected. You thumbed the fabric of the blanket you’ve become so assimilated with, feeling the weightlessness and texture. Then you decided. 

“Okay, fine,” you said, a smile creeping onto your face. “We can look into it. But don’t think I’m going to let you take over the whole place with your stupid video games.”

Rex shot you a playful wink. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. You’ll have your own space. Promise.”

For a moment, the room was filled with a quiet kind of anticipation, the two of you sitting there, silently contemplating what this could mean. But no matter what happened next, you knew one thing for sure.

“Right,” You laughed, shaking your head at his mischievousness. “I’m holding you to that hero.” 

“Hero!” he questions with a laugh of his own, slinking back into the chair. “That's your nickname for me?” He asks, his tone surprisingly gentle. 

Nicknames, he strangely really liked those. They were a sort of personal intimacy that could not usually be shared with just the average person. Usually you rarely shared a nickname with him, for him, one of your very own. You were pretty famous within your group of guardians for your nicknames, insults in an instant that Rex may be good at, but your ability to come up with nicknames was something else. 

Even if it was just a nickname like the one you had just uttered. 

“What, don't like it?” You retort, arching a brow. Rex’s brows shoot up, and you just giggle, shaking your head; indicative of you messing with him. He grunts, shaking his head at your roguish words. He leans forward, resting his arms in his lap. 

“S’fine, but i kinda—” He pauses, almost as if he truly was searching for words. “Expected something more.” Rex finishes, smiling at you. Nicknames were something personal, connecting to something on a deeper level. You knew Rex didn’t realize that yet, as you were more than flat with the term as a nickname, you couldn’t blame him for that aspect. Though that same boisterous energy held true, and you were more than glad for it. Maybe you could talk more about the moving in part later, but this was the usual you were content with. 

Scratch that actually. 

You sigh, scratching the side of your head, letting your hand drag down to the nape of your neck: “Maybe I'll let you know if I got something better, hm?” 

Honest to god—you thought you saw stars in his eyes. Even just for a brief moment, and it was beautiful. “Yeah… okay.” He said, tilting his head. 

“Anyway,” You groan, shifting your position to something more comfortable. You opted for laying more on your side, “Moving in together, huh?”

Something akin to a grin creeps onto his face, “Didn’t hear ya say no.” Rex says, leaning even further, using your bed as an armrest. You shake your head, knowing full well what you said. But this was such a perfect chance to jump on the thought, especially since he was the one who brought it up.  

"You know," you started, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the butterflies in your stomach, "that doesn't sound like something you'd suggest unless you were... well, serious."

Rex’s usual deflecting grin was back now, but it looked a little forced. "Well, I’m not always just a walking disaster, you know." His voice dropped to something a little softer, quieter. "I don’t want to be alone anymore, especially after all the crap with the League. It made me realize stuff... made me realize you matter to me."

Your breath caught in your throat. That rare vulnerability in his voice sent an electric current through you, igniting a warmth in your chest. The old Rex, the one who’d never take anything seriously, would have never said something like that. And here he was, standing in front of you, asking for something more than a casual arrangement.

You leaned forward, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You're serious, huh?" you teased, your voice a little softer than you'd intended.

His eyes flit over to yours, “Totally.”

Today was the day. You could feel the flutter of excitement, even if it was mostly muted beneath the layers of fatigue from the scars you bore, all thanks to the Lizard League. The healing was complete. You could finally train again. It wasn’t what you were most excited about, though—no, that honor belonged to something much more domestic. You were finally moving in with Rex.

There had always been a quiet, undeniable tension between the two of you—an electric pull that started as something simple, like friendly sparring, and slowly shifted into something else. You weren’t sure when the change happened, but now here you are, standing at the brink of taking the next step with him.

You had expected Rex to be... well, Rex. A little bit too much of everything—sarcastic, playful, brash—but there was something soft underneath it all, something more than just the angry edge. Moving in together seemed like a natural next step. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself. And yet, when you met up with him to start the move, what you didn’t expect was to see him standing there in civilian clothes.

A tight-fitting white shirt, grey sweatpants, and those velcro black shoes he always made fun of.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

“Well, this is a new look.” Your voice was light, but inside, you couldn’t deny the surprise.

Rex glanced up from his phone, eyes meeting yours with that cocky, sideways grin you were all too familiar with. He looked more casual than he ever had in front of you. Not a uniform in sight, no explosion-packed gear, no hint of Rex Splode. Just... him.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, stuffing his phone into his pocket and giving you a once-over with exaggerated scrutiny. “I figured if we're doing the whole 'living together' thing, I’d at least try to act normal for once.”

You almost didn’t catch the edge in his words, the way they dropped, the weight behind them. Rex was rarely serious, and when he was, he had this way of hiding it—disguising it with humor, or in this case, an attempt at nonchalance.

You took a step forward, your heart giving a small thump in your chest. The banter was there, but you couldn't ignore the deeper pull. "You know," you began, your voice a little softer now, "you don't need to act normal for me. But I guess it’s too late to take that back now."

Rex’s grin faltered, just slightly, before he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked away. "Right," he muttered, clearing his throat. "Anyway, enough of that. Where do you want to start? I got the truck and—"

You cut him off, walking closer now, stopping just a few feet away from him. "Rex... we don’t have to rush this, you know?" You watched as his expression shifted, the humor fading just a little bit. "I’m just... I’m just happy we’re doing this. Together."

Rex’s gaze flickered over to you, the grin fully dropping now. His eyes softened, just for a second—before that signature edge slipped back into place. “Yeah, well... I guess I can’t get rid of you now, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck, his posture shifting awkwardly.

There it was again. That pull. You could almost feel it vibrating in the air between you two, a subtle tension that never really went away, no matter how many sarcastic comments Rex made, or how many times you brushed it off.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound almost embarrassed. “You know, Rex, for someone who’s so used to blowing things up... you sure do get nervous easily.”

His head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise. "I don’t get nervous," he protested, immediately turning away to hide whatever flicker of vulnerability had just crossed his face. “I’m fine. Let’s just get moving.”

You tilted your head, taking another step toward him, the distance between you slowly shrinking. “Okay. Sure, fine. But we can take it slow, you know? No rush.”

Rex looked at you again, and this time there was no hiding the way his gaze softened—just for a second—before he looked down at his feet. “Yeah, no rush. We’ve got time.”

And in that moment, you both knew it was true. You’d always had time, always had a chance to figure things out. There was something undeniable about the way Rex was with you now—something that felt like it was edging toward something real, something more than the teasing or the sarcasm.

He cleared his throat, attempting to regain some of his usual cocky composure. “Alright, alright. So, do we start with the kitchen stuff or—”

But before he could finish, you took a step closer, unable to resist the pull any longer. You gently nudged his shoulder, smirking at him. "Let’s start with something simpler. Like... making sure I don’t have to carry everything myself."

Rex rolled his eyes dramatically, but there was a softness to the motion. “Oh, right. Because you’re the one who got your ass beat by the Lizard League, huh?” He looked at you, his eyes searching for something.

You didn’t answer, instead just holding his gaze, feeling the weight of everything unspoken between you. The years of friendship, the way it slowly twisted into something more. The way he was changing before your eyes, even if he refused to admit it.

"Yeah, I guess," you muttered, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But I’ve got you now. So no need to worry.”

Rex’s lips twitched upwards, and for a second, you could see that familiar spark in his eyes—the same one that made you think maybe this was something more than just the idea of moving in together.

His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. “Guess you do.”

As the two of you moved into the flat, the air between you and Rex was lighter than before, the kind of easy camaraderie that came from shared history and the strange connection you had. Boxes and bags were being shuffled in, and the initial awkwardness faded as you fell into a comfortable rhythm, neither of you needing to say much as you worked.

You were unloading the last of the boxes when Rex dropped a heavy duffel bag near the couch. He wiped his hands on his sweatpants, taking a moment to stretch his shoulders.

"Not bad," he said, his voice casual, but there was a hint of satisfaction in it, like he'd just crossed something off a list. "Guess we’re almost done."

You gave him a teasing smile, shaking your head. "You’re such a workhorse," you said, rolling your eyes. "Don’t get used to it. I’ll let you slack off when the time comes."

Rex snorted, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh, really? You’re gonna be the one bossing me around now? I’m not sure I can handle that."

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe, watching him. "Oh, I think you’ll manage." The grin on your face softened, and for a moment, you just stood there, looking at him. The thought of being here with him, the two of you, moving in together, felt right. So much has changed in the last few months—his recovery, his growth, and your growing feelings for him.

It was all so... overwhelming. But in the best way.

As Rex stepped past you to grab a couple more boxes, you moved closer, almost instinctively. The thought of it crossed your mind, but before you had time to second-guess it, you gently caught his arm.

He paused, looking down at you, his brow furrowing slightly in curiosity. "What’s up?"

"Hold still," you said softly. Before he could say anything, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, the faintest brush of your lips against his skin.

It was a simple gesture. A quiet moment. But in it, you felt the rush of something more—the warmth that spread through you both as you pulled away.

Rex froze, eyes wide as he stared at you, mouth slightly agape. For a moment, it was as if the world stopped spinning around the two of you.

"Did you—" He swallowed hard, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. "Did you just...?"

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, a little embarrassed at how your heart raced. "Yeah, I did."

His gaze softened for a moment, his usual smirk faltering, replaced by something else—something you couldn’t quite place. "Huh." His voice was quieter now, and he shifted, running a hand through his hair, trying to cover the slight flush rising in his cheeks. "Well, that was... unexpected. But I guess I’m not complaining."

You smiled, stepping back slightly, trying to hide the warmth that was spreading through your own cheeks. “Guess you’ll just have to get used to it, then.”

Rex blinked at you for a beat, his expression unreadable. He took a half-step forward, then another, like he was trying to figure out how to bridge the space between you. "Yeah?" His voice dropped lower, teasing again, but with a tenderness that hadn’t been there before. "Guess that means I’ll have to do something about it."

You quirked an eyebrow, half-joking, half-serious. "Oh? What are you planning on doing?"

He smirked, leaning in slightly, his eyes gleaming with that familiar cocky edge. "I’ll think of something. You’ll see." Rex noticed, oh did he notice. You were the nervous one now. But he wasn’t about to let you get away with it. 

You sighed, lowering your head for a brief moment as you thought to yourself. Then you snapped right back up. 

"Hey," you called to him, your voice soft yet steady, the kind that invited him to pause and look. His gaze shifted to you, eyebrow raised as if he hadn’t quite expected it.

"Yeah?" He was always a little unpredictable like that—loud and brash one second, then quieter when you least expected it.

You took a few steps toward him, the weight of the boxes in your mind lifting with every step. The air between you had always been a mix of playfulness, banter, and unspoken yearning, but this moment—this was different. The boundaries you had both carefully tiptoed around for so long, now slipping away like sand through your fingers.

“Thank you,” you said simply, the words heavy with meaning that couldn’t quite fit inside their simplicity.

Rex chuckled, a soft sound, almost like a reflex. "You know me, I’m just here for the free pizza and the ability to leave when it gets boring." He lifted one hand, the nonchalance a little too practiced, but you could see the exhaustion underneath.

A genuine laugh left you, a warmth blooming in your chest as you watched him. “Uh-huh. Sure, Rex. It’s definitely not like you just moved all the boxes in here just to leave, right?”

His eyes softened for just a moment, the edges of his usual cocky grin melting into something more vulnerable, though he quickly covered it up. “Guess I’m not that bad, huh?” he teased, but there was something different in his tone—something you hadn’t heard before.

You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you took the final step that closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. His body tensed for half a second, clearly caught off guard, but then his arms were around you, pulling you in close. He exhaled, a long sigh against the side of your neck, his breath warm and steady, like he had been holding it all in for far too long.

Yeah, it was one hell of a relief.

[imaginingbleach]

Forever your protector,

Word Count: 1,176

Requested: No, personally wanted to write angsty fluff using the phrases: My first instinct is to protect you, no matter the cost. && I never realized how much I needed you until you weren't there.

Summary; You distance yourself from Ichigo in hopes your absence will go unnoticed when you're taken to Hueco Mundo... Ichigo's more perceptive than anyone gives him credit for and rescues both you and Orihime.

CW: implied that reader has been stalked by Aizen; kidnapped to Hueco Mundo; tiny confrontation with Uryu; Ichigo worrying; Ichigo is hurt but what else is new

Tears streamed down your face as you ran over to him, the man who had come to your rescue despite everything...

You had known that Sosuke Aizen had planned to kidnap you at some point... It was not a matter of if but when.

You had accepted that fact long before it happened...

You had accepted that when you went to help Ichigo rescue Rukia that he would see you... And you already knew whatever he was planning was not good. As soon as he showed his true colors to everyone... you knew it was only a matter of time before he was going to come and find you.

When you returned to the World of the Living, you had said goodbye to Ichigo and his friends, and had made a silent vow to yourself. You didn't want to drag them into anything, so you would begin to distance yourself from the others.

You saw them less and less, you basically dropped off the face of the Earth... However, unlike Rukia, though, you didn't just suddenly disappear from their memories.

It came as no surprise to you when strange hollow like men came to take you. This was the first time you had met any arrancars, and likely the first time they had come over to the World of the Living. You had accepted that this was going to happen and that there was nothing you could do to fight against it.

Fate had a funny way of reminding you of what you had left behind... Orihime at some point had been brought to Hueco Mundo and that was when you knew Ichigo would come to save her.

How would you be able to explain to him just why you were here? What would he say?

... Would he give you that famous scowl and tell you how stupid you had been for running off on your own?

The thought made you giggle to yourself, but it made your heart ache...

────────────────────────────────────

"The hell do you mean you haven't seen them since we got back?!" Ichigo growled as he gripped onto Uryū's shirt, leering down at him.

"I said they haven't been in class or clubs since we got back from the Soul Society. I don't have their number, so I can't contact them... I would think you would've heard from them, Ichigo."

"I..." His grip loosened as he began to think over the days since their return. He remembered saying goodbye to you... He remembered saying he would see you later... And... Then, what? His thoughts were racing through every face he had seen since then and none of them were yours. Not a single one.

"I gotta go," he spat out, letting go of the other's shirt and running off. He had to see you. How did he manage to let the days go past without noticing?! His jaw clenched, hands balling into fists and speeding up into a sprint towards your home. You were okay... You had to be okay.

The thoughts of you being hurt or dead made his chest ache and only made him go faster. Once he arrived, he quickly searched for the spare key you had. In his haste, he nearly dropped it before managing to get it into the key hole and slam open the door. He called out your name, looking everywhere within your home.

He was just overreacting, right? You would be in your room, curled up with your computer or a book and peek your head up at him... Looking confused why he sounded so frantic... Right? You had to. His hand shook as he reached for the doorknob of your bedroom, twisting it and pushing the door open.

But you weren't there.

His lower lip trembled as he looked around your room. The bed was made and honestly it looked like no one had been in there for... Well, it definitely looked like you hadn't been home much since your return. He gritted his teeth and slammed the side of his fist into the door frame.

"Damnit!"

Unfortunately, he didn't have time to even begin thinking about where you could be or what could have happened to you... The arrancars soon came down and he was thoroughly defeated. Then they came back and took Orihime with them.

As he was preparing to head to Hueco Mundo to rescue Orihime, something hit him. He remembered his conversation with Grimmjow during their last interaction.

"Hah! You're so dense, Kurosaki! All these people and none of you even noticed we've already taken one of your pals!"

His eyes grew wide at the realization, feeling like he was hit with a train.

"He wasn't talking about Orihime! Son of a-"

────────────────────────────────────

"You're such an idiot, Ichigo! You didn't have to do that," you sobbed out as you fell into the sands before him. He had gotten badly hurt during his fights... And naturally you blamed yourself.

"Heh, but I did... My first instinct is to protect you, no matter the cost." He explained, smiling up at you as Orihime began to heal him.

"That's stupid and you know it!" You whined out in protest, feeling a bit better now that he was starting to get healed. "I'm not-"

"Hey, none of that. You are such an important person in my life," he spoke softly and reached up to wipe your tears away. "I never realized how much I needed you until you weren't there..."

"D... Don't say weird stuff like that!" You huffed, cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. Despite that, you never tried to move his hand from your cheek.

"I mean it... It took me way too long, but, I love you."

"Y-... You're just dizzy from blood loss! Stop saying weird things when you're so hurt!" You could feel the steam coming out of your ears, heart racing and trying to turn situation to have less of a focus on yourself.

"Hey! I am not! I've been thinking about this since the day I realized you were gone! It's taken me way too long to realize it, but you know me... I'm not always the best with these sorts of things. I'm just happy I can see you again and tell you how I feel."

Before you had a chance to say anything, he had gently pulled you forward until your lips met with his. It was gentle and sweet and left you absolutely breathless. When he pulled back, forehead resting against yours and his hand still cupping your cheek, you felt a soft sigh leave your lips.

"You're so stupid... and reckless... and I love you too, Ichigo."

"Great, wanna go on a date after we defeat Aizen?"

He stared at you with a confused look for a moment, watching as you just began to laugh at his silliness. His expression soon changed to a soft smile, knowing just how ridiculous he was being. It was the first time in a while he had gotten to see your smile... so he didn't mind you laughing at him.

[candycandy00]

Once Upon a Time - A Higuruma x Reader Fanfic Part 1

Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is The Little Mermaid featuring Higuruma! You’re a mermaid obsessed with the human world, and in love with one particular human: the lawyer named Higuruma. You make a deal with the sea witch to become human, but you only have three days to win his love!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!

Read Sukuna x Sleeping Beauty here!

Read Choso x Rapunzel Here!

Read Toji x Snow White Here!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Reader is a mermaid. Reader becomes mute. Light violence. Oral sex. 

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @drizztdohurtin!

The water gets warmer as you swim upwards, toward the light of the sun. You accidentally disturb a school of small fish, stopping to apologize even though they don’t understand your language. You hurry on, afraid you might be too late today. 

If only your sisters hadn’t delayed you. “Stop going to the surface!” they told you. They’re always scolding you, always giving you cryptic warnings about humans. They don’t understand. They’ve only come to the surface of the sea a handful of times between them, and you’ve come hundreds of times in the past year. You pride yourself in knowing more about humans than any other merfolk.

You break the surface of the water, feeling the glorious sun on your face. You only bask in its warmth for a few seconds before swimming over to the island, to the long wooden structures the humans call “docks”. There, it’s easy to hide beneath the boards and peek up at the people moving about on their lovely legs.  

But there’s one human in particular you’ve come to see. Every day he’s here at the docks for while, walking around, talking to various people. 

You dart around under the water, coming up every so often to look around for him. It takes only a few minutes to find him, standing on one of the wooden structures, talking to an aging human man. You swim over quickly to hide beneath his feet and listen to his conversation.

“I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Higuruma,” the older man is saying. 

“I’m just doing my job,” Higuruma, your favorite human, replies. “That contract was clearly predatory. I’m glad I could get it voided for you.”

“You don’t think the Russo family will retaliate, do you? My wife is afraid they’ll burn down our shop.”

Higuruma pats the old man on the back. “Don’t worry. They’ve never targeted any of my past clients. They try to work within the system to exploit people with their contracts, but I don’t know of them ever using violence. Besides, if they were going to go after anyone, it would be me.”

The old man seems comforted by this, but then says, “You be careful, Mr. Higuruma. You’ve helped a lot of people since you came here. We don’t want to lose you.”

Wait. Lose him? Does that mean he’s in danger? Your heart begins to race at the very thought. You couldn’t bear it if something happened to him!

He showed up on the island a little over a year ago, and you were instantly intrigued. He seemed so different from the other humans who lived on the island. He wore strange clothing, long black pants and a white shirt with buttons that looked far too clean. The islanders wore colorful shorts and tops. He seemed to struggle with the heat, making you wonder what sort of land he came from. 

Higuruma seemed more serious than the other humans you observed. He often looked troubled as he walked around the docks, talking to the various people there. He talked about contracts a lot, and you often heard words like “predatory” and “illegal”. 

From listening to his conversations everyday, you gathered that some people on the island called “the Russo family” are hurting other people on the island with their contracts. Higuruma is some kind of expert, and he came here to help people get out of these bad contracts. 

Everyday he‘s here, trying to help people. Once you understood that, your admiration for him only grew. And over the past year, you’ve completely fallen for him. 

You stare up through the cracks in the wood. He’s apparently already been here for a while today, as he’s already rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and undone the first three buttons at his collar. He wipes his brow with the back of his hand as he continues talking. 

Ah, he’s so handsome! Even when he looks like he might wilt in the sun. At your age, you should have already chosen a mate, and if Higuruma were merfolk, you would choose him in a heartbeat. 

Or, even better, if you were human…

No, that can never be. It’s something you dreamt of as a child, always wishing you could walk onto the shore and dance with the smiling islanders, that you could live in the sun. 

Higuruma stops speaking mid sentence, and you realize he’s looking straight down. You freeze, staring up at his lovely dark eyes. Can he see you? Impossible! The crack is so tiny! Just in case, you duck back under the water. 

With a casual wave, Higuruma walks away from his client on the dock, his footsteps making the wood creak. After getting back on the sandy shore, he glances back, at the space beneath the dock. 

Since coming to the island, he’s consistently had the feeling that he’s being watched. He at first thought it might be someone from the Russo family keeping tabs on him, but over time the strange feeling has become oddly comforting. He senses no hostility at all. Quite the opposite in fact. 

Just now on the dock, he thought he saw movement through the cracks in the wood. Was it just the water? He shakes his head to banish the thoughts. Right now, he needs to focus on his work. He has a very important case. 

A young family of four was targeted by the Russos, tricked into signing a contract that would give the Russos nearly complete control over their little upstart bait shop. They’d been naive, thinking the Russos would support them financially until their shop got started, in exchange for a cut of the profits. They expected a fair deal. 

What they got was the Russos controlling everything they did and taking over half the money, long after the shop became popular on the island. Higuruma has spent the past week reading and rereading the contract at night, looking for mistakes or loopholes. He thinks he’s found one, and will present his case before a judge tomorrow. 

He walks through the town, saying his hellos to the people who greet him warmly, and heads straight to his favorite spot on the island. 

On the west side, there’s an old abandoned dock. The small beach there is rarely used by anyone, making it seem like a private piece of paradise. For Higuruma, it’s his “thinking spot”. 

The sea breeze is warm on his face as he steps out from the line of palm trees, stopping for a moment to take off his shoes and roll up his pant legs. The sound of the waves lapping at the shore is rhythmic and soothing as he walks toward the water’s edge. 

He sits down in the sand, at the precise spot where the water will slide up to wet his feet but go no further, leaving his clothes dry. To his left is the shabby dock, its wood heavily damaged by age and weather. 

With a sigh, he leans his head back, looking up at the pink-tinted sky. It’s almost sundown, the time when he should be at home preparing for the hearing. But he needs these little moments of peace to keep himself from getting burnt out. He doesn’t want a repeat of what happened on the mainland. 

After a few minutes, he raises his head and glances out over the shimmering water…

And sees a woman staring at him. 

He blinks, rubs his tired eyes, and looks again. Now there’s no one in the water. Is he imagining things? If so, his imagination is more vivid than he thought. The woman was waist deep in the sea, and quite beautiful. 

He’s had this particular daydream before, thinking he’s seen a woman watching him from the water. But she always disappears so fast, he can only assume it’s an illusion, a trick of the light reflecting off the sea.  

Higuruma stands up and dusts himself off. He looks at the dock and wonders if he could get a better view of the spot he saw the woman if he walks out on the boards. How sturdy is this old dock? Surely it would be blocked off if it’s a major safety hazard, right? 

Walking carefully, he makes his way to the end of the dock and looks out over the sea, squinting his eyes against the glimmering sun on the waves. Seeing nothing, he sighs again, feeling foolish. As he starts to turn back, he hears the wood creaking behind him. 

“Hey, you’re that lawyer Higuruma, right?” 

He turns to see four large men walking toward him on the dock. None of them are familiar, and none of them look friendly. So the Russo family finally decided to make a move. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” he says nonchalantly. “Why? Do you guys need some legal advice?”

The men glance at each other, but keep walking toward him. Higuruma knows how this will play out. They’ll threaten him or rough him up, try to intimidate him into dropping the various cases he has lined up against the Russos. He’s never been the best fighter, always relying on his intelligence to get him out of trouble, but he’s not exactly a weakling either. If there were only two of them, he might have a shot at getting away unscathed. But there’s four, and they’re all considerably bigger than him. 

No point trying to run, not on this dock. Might as well take whatever they plan to give then. 

To his surprise, none of them try to talk to him at all. No threats, no demands, they simply begin punching him. He takes three hits to the face. From the same guy? From three different ones? He doesn’t know because he shut his eyes after the first. 

He feels a kick to his knee, taking him down, then several kicks to his gut, knocking the wind out of him. While he’s gasping for air, one of them shoves him off the dock and into the water. 

Higuruma can swim, but he’s never been especially great at it, and he’s never had to immediately after taking a beating, when he’s already struggling to breathe. 

He feels the waves tossing him about, at one point slamming him into one of the dock’s support beams. His mouth inadvertently opens, and sea water rushes in. That’s when he blacks out. 

When he wakes up again, he’s lying on his back on the shore. It’s nearly night, dark enough to obscure the person leaning over him. It’s a woman. The same one he’s been seeing in the water, and he can just make out enough of her facial features to see that she wears a worried expression. 

“Who… are you?” he croaks out, his throat raw from the salt water. 

She doesn’t speak a word, only moves away from him, so quickly that by the time he manages to sit up, she’s no longer in sight. Where the hell did she even go?

He rubs the back of his head, checking for bumps or injuries. His face and stomach are sore, but nothing else seems to be damaged. 

She saved him, didn’t she? 

You swim away at top speed, your heart hammering in your chest. You touched him! You let him see you! 

Interacting with humans, under any circumstances, is strictly forbidden! But when you saw him being hurt and falling into the water, you couldn’t stop yourself from helping him. 

It’ll be alright! He’ll probably just think he was confused or half dreaming. He almost drowned after all. There’s no way he’ll remember you. 

You stop suddenly, letting the gentle currents carry you. He’ll forget you. He’ll think you were a figment of his imagination. You know this is how it should be, how it has to be, but the thought still makes tears come to your eyes, leaking out to blend in with the sea. 

How you wish you could be human, so that you could run onto the shore and greet him, tell him how much you admire him, how much you want him to be your mate. 

Feeling a bit raw and emotional, you begin swimming again, eager to get back home. Until you’re stopped by two young mermen, twins with dark hair who look to be in their late teens. 

“We saw what you did,” one of them says, his face completely devoid of expression. 

“What?” you ask, pretending not to know what he’s talking about. If he did see, and tells anyone, you could be in big trouble with your father. 

“You saved a human,” the other twin says in an equally flat and creepy way. 

You frown at them. “I just dragged him to shore. He would’ve died.”

The two of them swim closer, circling around you. “Even if we see a human child fall in the water, we’re forbidden from helping.”

The other one chimes in, “Too much risk of humans discovering our existence. That’s your father’s rule, isn’t it?”

You look back and forth between them. Clearly they’re threatening to report this to your father. “What do you want from me?”

They exchange glances. “Us? We want nothing,” one of them says. 

“But you clearly want something,” the other adds. “That human man, perhaps?”

You look down sadly. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I can’t have it. I’ve made peace with that.”

“Have you?”

“Have you really given up on your dream?”

Your eyes shift back to their blank faces. “What choice do I have? He’s human. I’m merfolk. We live in different worlds.”

They finally smile, both of them at the same time. “Oh, you have a choice,” they say in eerie unison. “Come see our grandmother.”

“Grandmother?” you ask, confused.

One twin swims close enough to touch you, his fin brushing past yours. “People call her the sea witch.”

“But she helps those in need,” the second twin says. 

Oh. You’ve heard of her. “For a price,” you add. 

They both nod. “For a price.”

You would give anything to be human, to live in that world with Higuruma, but you’ve heard horrible tales of the sea witch tricking people into losing the things they most value. Still, you’ve also heard stories of people being satisfied with whatever deal she proposed. 

“How can she help me?” you ask. What you want is impossible. Surely it’s beyond even her power. 

“Come and see,” they say. 

You only give it a moment of thought before you agree, then swim behind them as they lead you to the witch. 

They take you to a sea cave, so deep and dark that you can barely see them swimming in front of you. The water is cold here, much colder than you’re used to, and there’s no current at all, making the sea feel almost dead here. 

As you swim further into the cave, you begin to see light ahead. Little bits of seashells are strung along the top of the cave, lit by some strange magic. It’s beautiful to behold, if a bit ominous. 

There in the deepest part of the cave floats an older mermaid with an unusually colored fin - a violet color that shimmers, reflecting the strange light. She’s staring at you as if she’s been waiting for your arrival, as if she’s known all along that her twin grandsons would convince you to come. 

“You’re the sea witch?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, and you’re one of the king’s daughters,” she says, her voice having a bizarre echo in the cave. 

“I was told you can help me,” you say, eager to get to the point. 

She swims closer, and at this distance you can see her eyes more clearly. They’re absolutely haunting, large but empty and devoid of color. “I can help you help yourself. I can give you the tools you need to make your dream come true.”

You draw back reflexively. “You don’t even know what my dream is.”

“To be human,” she says. “To live with that man you saved.”

How does she know about that? The twins didn’t have time to tell her. Still… 

“Can you help me?”

She smiles. “Of course I can. I can transform your fin into human legs. After that, it will be your job to win the human man’s heart.”

You’ve already decided to take her deal, no matter what she wants of you. But just as a formality, you ask, “What’s the price?”

“Your voice, nothing more.”

That’s a surprising request. It will certainly hinder you in winning Higuruma’s heart, if you can’t even communicate with him. But love will find a way. 

“It’s yours,” you tell her. 

The sea witch grins. “Excellent! If you’ll just sign this contract, the deal will be finalized.”

“Contract?”

She holds up something, a glowing square that looks like a piece of paper humans write on. Words appear across it, and you read over them. 

“I understand that I have three days to make the human man fall in love with me. During this time, I will have human legs while surrendering my voice. If I succeed, I will become human permanently and regain my voice. If I fail, I will lose my human legs and my voice will become the permanent property of the Sea Witch. This agreement exists so long as my signature is on this contract.”

Ah, so you’ll either gain everything or lose everything. You’re willing to take that gamble! 

“How will I know for sure that I’ve succeeded?” you ask the witch as you take then pen she holds out for you. 

“With this,” she says, holding out a pendant in her other hand. It’s shaped like a heart, made of crystal, with golden trim. “As the human’s affection for you grows, the heart will turn red. Once it is completely full, you have won his love.”

You take the pendant, attached to a chain, and pull it over your head to wear as a necklace. Then you sign your name to the contract. 

The “paper” rolls into a scroll, and you take it as well. This is all done by magic, so you assume you’re bound to the terms regardless. 

“Take this,” the witch says, holding out a small glass bottle. “When you’re ready, drink this and your body will transform. At that time, you will lose your voice. I recommend getting close to the shore beforehand.”

You accept the bottle and swim away without another word, in a hurry to be away from this creepy place. 

You don’t drink the potion right away. Doing so would be foolish. Instead you spend the next day with your sisters, etching their faces and their voices in your mind. If all goes well, you’ll never see them again. That thought stings a little, as you do love them dearly, but you would never expect one of them to give up on her lifelong dream for your sake. So you won’t give up yours for them. 

When it gets close to sundown, you quietly slip away and swim for the surface, then head for the usually empty beach where you see Higuruma alone almost every day. You envision drinking the potion, gaining legs, and standing there at the beach waiting for him. It’ll be difficult to introduce yourself without your voice, but you’ll figure out how to convey your thoughts. He’s very smart, and should be able to understand you. 

You reach the shore and look around. It’s deserted as you expected. Higuruma should arrive soon, so you sit at the edge of the water and pull out the potion. The pendant is hanging from your neck, and the rolled up contract is in your free hand.

The potion shimmers when you hold the bottle up to the sun. You take a deep breath, then bring the bottle to your lips, downing the contents in one gulp. 

You feel it immediately, a savage pain radiating from your waist down to the tips of your fin. You collapse onto your back as waves of agony tear through you, as if your fin is being ripped in two. The witch never told you it would hurt so bad! 

With a gasp, you roll over, trying to crawl back to the sea. Something is wrong! She must have tricked you! But before you can reach the water, a stab of pain so intense that you think you’re dying shoots through your fin. You scream loudly, but the sound cuts off midway, leaving only silent horror as your voice disappears. 

After that, you pass out on the beach. 

Higuruma walks solemnly through town on his familiar path, his black jacket slung over his shoulder, barely looking up when people greet him as usual. 

His case didn’t go well today. The judge, who was always very fair before, was suddenly harsh and unsympathetic. Did the Russos get to him? It was a little suspicious that the judge had zero reaction to Higuruma’s black eye. Almost like he was expecting it. 

Seeing the disappointment and defeat on the faces of his young clients was the worst part. It reminded him a little too much of other faces, from other cases. 

He doesn’t plan to give up. There’s more than one judge on the island. But right now, he just wants to go to his private little spot, breathe in the sea breeze, watch the sunset, and forget all about today for those precious few minutes. 

There’s a thick line of palm trees and flowering shrubs that mark the edge of town, a line he must pass through to reach the old dock. He’s halfway through it when he hears a terrible scream. 

Was that a woman? It sounded like it came from the beach! Surely the Russos aren’t attacking random women there now! 

Higuruma breaks into a run, tearing through the trees as fast as he can, ignoring the shrub branches catching on his crisp white shirt. 

When he reaches the beach, he quickly spots a figure lying at the water’s edge. He rushes over, and is shocked to find a completely naked woman. He drapes his jacket over her and squats down, worried that she might have been assaulted. 

“Miss?” he asks, gently turning her so that she’s not face down in the sand. He doesn’t see any injuries, but she appears to be unconscious. Around her neck is a strange pendant, and in her hand is a rolled up piece of paper. 

He pulls the paper from her grasp, thinking it might be a clue to her identity or what happened to her. The first thing he notices is the bizarre texture of the “paper”. It doesn’t feel like paper at all. And the ink is even stranger. But most perplexing of all are the words written there. 

It’s a contract. But not a single word of it makes any sense. Trading voices for legs? Three days to make someone fall in love? It must be some sort of fantasy game she’s playing with someone. 

He rolls it back up and slips it into his pocket, then starts to pick her up so that he can carry her to the clinic in town. But just as he begins to touch her, she suddenly sits up. 

Higuruma is so surprised he falls back on his ass in the sand beside her. She looks around, then her eyes fall on him. They go wide, and then all at once she’s waving and making gestures in an excited fashion. 

“Hey, calm down, I’ll help you, okay?” he says, getting back to a more dignified position on his knees. “First of all, are you hurt?”

She stares at him blankly for a moment, then shakes her head. 

“Can you tell me your name?” 

If he can figure out who she is, he can take her to her family. 

She shakes her head again, then points to her mouth before shaking it once more. 

“You can’t speak?”

She nods. 

Well that’s going to make this a bit more challenging. Yes or no questions only. 

“Do you live in town?”

No. 

“Do you live on this island?”

No. 

“Where did you come from?” Shit, that’s not a yes or no question!

Before he can rephrase, she stretches out her arm and points to the water. 

… Huh? She’s from the sea? At that moment, looking back at her face, he realizes she’s familiar. She looks like the woman who saved him yesterday, the woman he’s glimpsed watching him from the water. Is this her? 

No, it can’t be. She just coincidentally resembles the person who saved him, if that person even exists. He was pretty groggy when he woke up on the beach, and he’s been stressed out lately. 

“You mean you come from another island?” he asks, thinking that must be why she pointed that direction. 

She hesitates for a moment, then nods. 

He wonders how she ended up here, naked on the beach. Then an unlikely but theoretically possible idea hits him. “Did you just wash up here? Did you fall off a ship?”

Again, she hesitates before giving a nod. 

That would certainly explain a lot. If she was trying to swim to shore, a heavy dress would have been a major impediment. Of course she’d pull it off to survive. 

Still, she seems awfully fine with being nude. She still has his jacket draped over her, but it’s slipped down enough to bare more skin than most women would be comfortable showing to a stranger. He’s been trying to avoid staring out of politeness, but it’s getting hard to ignore the lovely breasts peeking out, especially when she’s making zero effort to cover them up. 

He stands up and he holds his hand out to her. “Let’s get you to the clinic so they can check you over, make sure you’re not injured.”

She takes his hand quickly, an excited smile on her pretty face. He can’t help finding the gesture very charming. 

Just as he pulls her to her feet, her smiling face twists in agony and she crumples against him. He instinctively wraps his arms around her to keep her from falling. 

“Hey, are you alright? Are your legs hurt?” he asks, thinking she might have a broken ankle or some other type of injury that would be difficult to spot. 

She clutches his shirt in her hands and shakes her head no again, then looks up at him and smiles. What was that about? 

He’s suddenly aware that he’s holding a beautiful naked woman in his arms, and he feels heat spreading over his face. He’s feeling something else too, and hopes to god she doesn’t notice. This is definitely not an appropriate situation to be horny! 

“We need to get you some clothes,” he says. “You can’t just walk through town like this. If you’ll wait here, I can go get you some-“

She grabs his shirt again and shakes her head, looking alarmed. 

“You don’t want me to leave you?” he asks. 

She nods quickly. 

He supposes that makes sense. She’s probably afraid to be alone after what she’s been through. 

“The clinic is in the middle of town though,” he says, wondering how to navigate this situation. She’s still clinging to him, and he gets the impression she’ll fall if he lets her go. Maybe her muscles are cramping from swimming for so long. 

“I guess I could take you to my place and let you wear something of mine. I live on the outskirts so maybe no one will see you.”

She smiles brightly then, and nods. His jacket has almost completely fallen off her, so he readjusts it for her, wondering why he’s trying so hard to guard her modesty when she seems totally disinterested in it. 

Probably because he’s trying very hard to remain a gentleman. 

She hangs onto his arm and leans against him as he helps her head through the tree line, toward his small house. 

There are two feelings dominating your very being at this moment: elation at being so close to Higuruma and the utter torment of walking on these human legs. 

You had no idea they would hurt so bad. Do all humans endure this pain? No, you’ve watched them for years. You’ve never seen any indication that they feel pain while standing or walking. If so, how could they run and dance? Maybe it’s because yours are so new, or because they’re made from magic. You seriously hope the pain will subside after a while. 

But even if it doesn’t, you have no intention of giving up. You’ll take any pain if it means being human. 

You love leaning on Higuruma, feeling his warm body against yours, smelling his scent, hearing his voice so close to your ear. It seems so strange to have him looking straight at you after all this time of trying to avoid his gaze. 

He keeps talking about getting you clothes. You’ve observed humans enough to know that they cover their bodies, but you’ve never understood why. It’s just now dawning on you that being unclothed must be shameful to them. It makes you feel a little embarrassed. 

You know for a fact that humans take off their clothes to mate. You’ve seen them do it on the beach late at night when they thought they were alone. You’ve watched in amazement as couples join together, moaning and gasping in pleasure. 

Merfolk do not mate in that way, but they are very free with their affection for those they love. Mating is a completely different process, less intimate, though done with great love. You’ve always wanted to try mating like humans do, despite not having the ability to do so until now. 

There is one intimate act you could have done before, that you witnessed at the beach one night. A human woman got on her knees in front of her mate, opened his pants, and used her mouth to pleasure his mating organ. 

You watched breathlessly, growing heated even in the water, entranced by how much they both seemed to enjoy it. 

After that, you began to fantasize about swimming up to Higuruma while he sat on the dock and doing that with him. It was still an impossible dream, as doing so would require you to reveal yourself, but you could at least clearly imagine it. 

Now, as you struggle through the pain to walk while staying pressed against him, those fantasies are coming to the front of your mind. 

He stops at a human dwelling, a small wooden structure with only a few similar structures around it. The sun has completely set, but there’s still enough light to see the faded white paint on the exterior and the cracked blue door. After opening it, Higuruma helps you inside. 

You’ve never been inside a human home before, so you’re finding it very difficult to act calm. It’s so warm inside! Higuruma helps you over to some sort of large, soft seat and then begins turning lights on. You’ve seen the pretty artificial lights humans make, but you didn’t realize they have so many! 

As you look around in wonder, Higuruma disappears through a door. He returns carrying some clothes. 

“I don’t really own a lot of casual clothes,” he says as he hands the folded items to you. “I hope you don’t mind a T-shirt and boxers. I promise they’re clean.”

You recognize the term “shirt” from listening to humans for so long, but you don’t think you’ve heard “boxers” before. You unfold the two pieces of clothing and look them over. The “boxers” are apparently shorts. These are blue with red circular spots all over them. So he does have some colorful clothes! You wonder why you’ve never seen him in them before as you carefully stand up, trying hard not to let him see you wincing. 

He quickly turns his back to you. “Let me know if you need help. Uh, just bang on the coffee table or something to get my attention.”

You’ve seen humans dressing and undressing before, so you think you know how to do it. The only problem is keeping your balance on your new, painful feet. You sit back down and pull the shorts over one foot, then the other. 

Soon you’re dressed, feeling more human than ever. You wish you could find a reflective surface to look at, so you could see yourself in clothes. Will you look more appealing to Higuruma this way? 

You need to let him know you’re finished, so you take the few agonizing steps over to him and tap on his shoulder with your fingers. 

He turns, looks you up and down, and his face becomes slightly pink. “Uh, we should get you to the clinic, have a doctor look you over. I’m concerned about your legs.”

Doctor? Oh no. A human doctor might be able to tell you’re not human yourself. You shake your head, trying to motion with your arms that you don’t want to go. 

Higuruma looks confused for a moment, then hurries into another room and comes back with a pen and some sort of block of paper. He hands them to you. 

Human pens are different from what you use, but the writing system is the same. You write out the words, “No doctor. Please.”

He reads them and looks back at you. “Are you sure? You seem to be hurt.”

You shake your head and write, “Just tired.”

He seems uneasy, but eventually says, “Okay. No doctor. Is there someone I can call for you? Family?”

You think for a moment, then write, “No family. Can I stay with you?”

His eyes move over the words, then shift to your face. “I guess you could stay here tonight,” he says, making you smile. Then he taps the paper with one finger and says, “Can you tell me your name?”

You write it down for him and he reads it out loud. Hearing him say your name makes you feel giddy. 

“I’m Higuruma Hiromi,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”

You decide to write something else on the paper: “Thank you for helping me!”

He gives you a subtle smile. “You’re welcome. Are you okay with sleeping on the couch? I can get you a blanket.”

He’s gestured toward the large soft seat. So this is a couch? It certainly looks comfortable to sleep on. You nod and he steps out again, returning with what he called a “blanket”. It’s a big, soft piece of fabric. Oh! This must be something you cover yourself with to stay warm at night! 

“I have some work to do before going to bed, so I’ll be awake for a while. If you need anything, let me know. Feel free to eat or drink anything you like.”

You really don’t want him to leave, so you hurriedly write something and then tap his shoulder to stop him. 

“What kind of work?” your note reads. 

“Oh, I’m a lawyer,” he says.  “I specialize in contracts. I have several cases coming up soon so I’m going over some notes.” He pauses, then reaches into his pocket. “That reminds me, you were holding this when I found you. I know it’s just pretend, but in my professional opinion, you got a bad deal.”

In his hand is the rolled up contract you have with the sea witch. You take it, feeling panic rise in your heart. He read it?! Then he knows everything? Wait… he said it was pretend. So he thinks it’s not real…

You smile and nod, trying to seem normal about it, but you’re so distracted that you fail to stop him when he turns to walk out again. Left alone in the room, you sit back down on the couch. You pull the pendant from beneath the shirt you’re wearing and look at it. 

There’s a tiny little speck of red at the bottom! He’s starting to like you! 

After sitting on the couch for a while, you grow restless. You’re very aware of your time limit ticking down. You want to win his love right now! But even more than that, you just want to be with him. Would he be bothered if you go to him now? He said he’s working, but you don’t mind watching him work. 

Gathering your courage, you stand up and make your way through the room, toward the door he went through. You’re getting more accustomed to moving around on these legs. They still hurt, but the pain has become more bearable. 

When you reach the door, you’re not sure how to open it. He turned the knob on the first door to get into the house. Does that work for this one as well? You put one hand on it and use the same twisting motion he used. It worked! 

The door slides open and you get your first view of what must be his private room. The lights are dim, only a small one on a stick with some sort of fabric covering it, sitting on a small table. Higuruma himself is sitting in a chair at this table, several pieces of paper scattered across it. He looks up at you as you cross into the room. 

There’s a flicker of surprise on his face, and you notice for the first time how tired he looks. He turns in his chair and says, “Do you need something?”

You wish you could shout, “Yes! I need you!” Unfortunately that’s impossible right now. How can you express your affection for him? 

You walk over to him and put one hand on his shoulder. His eyes flick to your hand and back to your face. He scoots the chair back from the table and starts to get up, but you press lightly on his shoulder to stop him. Then you slowly lower yourself to your knees, just as you saw the human woman do it on the beach that night. 

His eyes widen. “What are you doing?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper. He makes no move to stop you. 

You stare up at him, hoping he can see the desire on your face. Your hands rest on his thighs, gently nudging them apart. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he tells you, perhaps thinking you feel indebted to him for helping you. 

You look at the table full of papers behind you. There’s a pen there as well. You grab it and hastily write, “I want to” on one of the papers. 

His face is slightly pink again. He swallows, then asks, “Are you sure?”

You nod emphatically. 

He hesitates, seems to be thinking it over, then sighs and mutters, “Fuck it, I’ve had a long day.” Then he opens his pants and pulls out his mating organ. 

Your eyes shine as you look at it. You’ve imagined it so many times, dreamed of touching it, tasting it, feeling it, that you can’t suppress your excitement. 

You reach out one hand and curl your fingers around the warm, meaty rod. It grows bigger and harder under your touch, surprising you with its size. 

This is new territory for you, but you remember that woman on the beach and decide to mimic her actions. You lean forward and give a tentative lick, right across the tip, then slide your tongue along the length, tasting his salty skin and leaving a trail of your saliva. After that, you take as much of it as possible into your mouth. 

Higuruma inhales sharply, his hands on the sides of his chair, as you begin sliding your lips up and down the shaft. Ah, this is what you’ve fantasized about for so long! Having him in your mouth is making your whole body feel hot. There’s a strange dampness between your legs, a sensation you’ve never felt before. Is this what arousal is like for humans? 

Your tongue rubs the underside of him as you push your head forward, letting his tip hit the back of your throat. One of his hands leaves the chair to rest on your head, his fingers gently threading through your hair. He’s enjoying it! You lift your eyes to look up at him while you pull back slightly, lapping at the fluid that’s leaking from the tip. 

His eyes meet yours, his breaths coming more quickly. You lick your lips then wrap them around him, tightening them at his base. You hear a quiet groan above you as the hot organ in your mouth twitches. His fingers bury themselves in your hair as his body goes rigid. Then warm, gooey strings of fluid shoot down your throat. You swallow it hungrily, remembering from the various couples you’ve watched that this happens when a man is pleased. 

You draw back and look up. Higuruma’s face is a little red and his chest is rising and falling rapidly. You carefully get to your feet and step toward the door, turning back only once to smile and wave at him. He looks utterly bewildered as you walk out and close the door behind you.  

[leviraaaaaa]

Farewell, Captain. (Levi Ackerman x injured!reader)

Cw: mentions of blood.

Summary: Levi Ackerman finds you in the verge of death.

-

It was going to rain

You bit down on your lip in worry. This was bad.

The expedition was supposed to be a small, short one. Just to catch a new titan or two for Hange's experiments. Go out, catch them, come back.

It was a small squad, about 15 people only. Section Commander Hange had picked out only a few to accompany. Being Levi's second, and one of the most treasured soldier in the military, usually they wouldn't call you for such simple tasks. The only reason you were asked to tag along was because you were also section commander Hange's assistant, you helped them in conducting the titan experiments. You didn't really mind as you had nothing better to do anyways. And by now, these small expeditions doesn't scare you as much as they used to.

You were ranked at the rear of the formation, along with two more. On one side, Sasha rode besides you, deeply focused. Captain Levi had, for some reason ordered her to come as well, to your joy (Though you suspected it was more of a punishment to stop her from stealing food, since banning her from meals only made the problem worse). You were glad hearing your best friend's coming too as the journey would be far less boring, although Sasha wasn't too enthusiastic. She kept groaning about how hungry she was and how she'd have to wait a couple more hours before she gets some food. (Irritated also because captain Levi had stripped her out of all hidden snacks before setting out.)

On the other side of you were a new recruit. She was in Section Commander Hange's squad, recruited because of her apparent brains in therotical knowledge. But Hange wanted her to have a bit of experience on the outside world too, so there she was. First ever expedition. Poor thing was shaking like a leaf.

Two nights ago, the special operations squad was sent out to clear the area out of any titans, baiting them towards where the trap was set along the South-East abandoned Tsuchou town. So the route was expected to be safe. And though precautions were taken, you and your teammates were much more relaxed, as you rode along, joking and laughing.

Except the new girl. She'd been rigid as stone since you've set out.

Suddenly, the girl closed the distance between you, pulling her horse so near, your legs almost touched. You looked at her, surprised. She'd been keeping noticable distance from you and Sasha until now.

"It's... it's going to rain, won't it?" She muttered quietly, glancing at you from the corner of her eyes.

You looked up and nodded, eyes shifting to the sky. "It appears so, yes."

"How long are we going to go on for?"

"Just a little further. We should be by the traps in about an hour."

The girl's shoulders visibly sunk, her face falling. "Another hour?"

"Hey," you called out softly, noticing the fear in her body language. She looked pitiful. "It's going to be fine. I know exactly what you must feel like but I promise you nothing's going to go wrong today. It's just a short trip, so hang on okay?"

Sasha shot an encouraging smile to her following your words.

She pursed her lips, giving a tight nod. Her hands gripped the reins tighter.

"I know..it's just..it feels so wrong." She whispered. "The sky was fine when we came out, then it turned dark within moments."

You understood. It really had been a good day. Or so it had seemed when the expedition began. Bright blue sky without a single cloud. Then half an hour in, it turned dark, thick black clouds appearing out of nowhere. And wind was blowing so heavy you could barely keep your eyes open, the dust that was getting kicked up by the horses kept flying into them.

It did feel wrong.

You thought about it for a second as you watched the girl gradually shifting further, regaining the distance. Her eyes unfocused, a worried expression settled.

"Sash, think I'm gonna go ahead." You told Sasha.

Sasha immediately started shaking her head but she barely had time to got any words out before you squeezed the horse's sides, telling her to speed up. She did, hooves clashing against the ground, leaving small clouds of dust. You passed through your comrades, ignoring their side eyes.

Breaking ranks was absolutely unpermitted unless in life threatening situations. But when you're favoured by the higher ups and second to none but Levi Ackerman, you get a lot of free passes and unspoken privileges—which, needless to point out, you abused whenever you could.

You speedened up until the familiar figure caught your eye. Nudging your horse, you manurvered it towards him, catching up to him in moments

Levi glanced at you sideways with narrowed eyes, annoyance flashing through his features at your appearance.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue. "Why the hell did you leave your post? Just because it's not an actual expedition doesn't mean-"

"Yeah, yeah" You cut him off, not in the mood for a lecture. Levi's eye twitched, but he didn't say anything. He never did.

If it was anyone else but you, Levi would have taught you a lesson right there. And if it was anyone but Levi, you would for sure at the very least be demoted for speaking in such tone. But though none of you would admit it, the relationship between you and Levi were much casual than it should be between a commanding officer and a soldier.

"It's going to rain, captain." You pointed towards the sky. "I don't like this. Can't we camp out or something? We've cleared out the area two nights ago anyways, there shouldn't be titans around. It'll be safe and we can continue later."

Levi sighed. "Tell that to four-eyes. I tried. They won't listen to me. Keeps saying, 'its not much further'."

You grimaced. When it came to titans, section commander Hange lost all rationality. "It won't be a light rain either. Looks like a fucking storm is coming."

Levi nodded in agreement. "I'll see what I can do." He huffed "You don't have to worry about it. "

"I'll be hella pissed if I get drenched, I swear."

"No one asked. And go back to your damn post, you little pest." He finished sharply, giving you a warning glance.

You obligated, even you knew when to step back. Pulling down on the reins, you slowed your horse down, turning it around to go back to your original spot. Sasha and the new recruit were staring wide eyed.

"You really need to stop doing that. One of these days, captain Levi will just go batshit on you." Sasha shook her head, a grin on her face.

"We'll see." You snorted.

"Seriously, I don't even know why he lets you screw around like this, if it was any of us-"

"Did you ask him about the rain?" The rookies high pitched voice cut Sasha off. She was staring at you, face contorted in anticipation.

"Yeah, kid." You responded gloomily. "Don't think they'll stop unless it actually starts raining."

She didn't say anything, just looked away, distancing herself with her horse again, knuckles taut on the reins.

"She's just scared." Sasha muttered, glancing at her.

"Weren't we all?"

"Don't remind me." She shuddered at the reminder of our first expedition—the one where more than half of us were massacred by the female titan.

You watched the sky with squinted eyes, as the clouds had covered the last rays of the sun, creating an eerie dark ambience, even making you shift warily in your position.

The kid was right, it felt wrong.

Somewhere far away, thunder rolled. Once. Twice. The rumbling sound was almost deafening.

That's when the first drop of rain hit your face. It rolled down your cheek and fell on the ground.

And then the sky crashed down upon the earth.

A curse escaped your lips, completely unprepared for the sudden phenomenon. Surprised yelps from others joined yours. Hastily, you wrapped your cloak around yourself tightly to regain some warmth that you lost.

Oh dear. This was definitely bad .

Within seconds, the world was white. You couldn't see anything. Only faint outlines and blurred green. Somewhere far front, you heard Hange groan and Moblit screaming out to move out to far right to the forest to take shelter underneath the trees.

Despite being half blind, you followed the orders, pulling the reins. You felt the thuds of Sasha's and the new recruits horses match yours.

Then Sasha gasped.

She hissed out your name, her voice terrified.

"Titans." She whispered.

Your heart fell. No.

"What?" You yelled out, praying to God you heard wrong.

"I can hear titans!" Sasha said louder this time, the panic in her tone clear. "From everywhere!"

Damn Sasha and her extraordinary hearing abilities.

"Shit. Shit shit shit!" You cursed out. Why? How? The area was supposed to be clear. Why were they swarming on you then?!

"We have to let the others know!"

"How!? The rain is too thick and loud for the signal guns to be seen or heard! Hell, we probably won't even hear titans come up until they're breathing down our damn necks!" You were losing your cool, the panic settling in.

Scouts did not go out in expeditions when it rained. It was a rule. Never.

But here the fuck you were.

You heard the rookie whimper right beside your ear. Your head turned to see her almost over your shoulders, eyes wide with terror as she heard the conversation, eyes switching from Sasha to you.

"It'll be fine." You said to her, trying to calm down for her sake. But you knew as well, the chances of it being fine was next to fucking zero because Sasha's ears were too fucking accurate. "It'll be fine, just stick close to me-"

The terrified yelps of several people up front cut you off and your blood froze.

A huge, enormous figure standing before you, staring down with wide, hungry eyes. A creepy smile on its face.

You stilled, right there. Your breathing stopped.

No no no.

Not here.

Your horse reacted before you processed it, throwing itself to the side just as the titans feet slammed against the ground just where you've been, sending tremors down the earth. It's grubby hand swooshed over your head.

The mount flailed wildly as you tried to keep balance. You were about to whip the reins and get the hell out of there when another cry pierced through your bones.

From much, much close.

The rookie.

You whipped your head to see the girl running the exact fucking opposite way, the titan following right behind with big, heavy thuds.

You didn't even care where Sasha might be.

She was experienced, she'd be fine.

The kid won't be fine.

In a split second decision, you turned your mount around, grabbing it's neck as it charged in full speed following the titan, speedily crossing it.

You were going in the forest.

Not the wisest decision you've made because you still couldn't see anything except for the outline of the titan behind you, you could crash into a tree any second.

But fuck.

"Hey, you moron! Come back here!" You yelled out to her in frustration and desperation. She didn't even turn around, only speedened up. "That's the wrong fucking way! Turn around!"

You moved, fast as the wind, raindrops stabbing your face like tiny little frost needles, making you wince.

You entered the forest, deeper, deeper.

This was bad.

And then it got worse.

It was the red that caught your eyes. The type of red you could recognize anywhere.

Blood was splattered all across the ground, the rainwater washing it away.

Oh no no no.

The crunch of human bones jolted you awake as you looked up to see the titan that had been the cause of it. You stared. Stared. Stared as it stared back at you.

You looked down, right there on the foot of it, rolling around was the detached head of the girl.

You gazed back up.

And then you saw two more. Slowly, steadily coming out of the forest, disturbingly enlarged organs swinging with every steps.

3 titans in front. 1 in the back.

What have you done.

You had barely turned your gear switch on when the first titan struck, stomping down your horse. Just in time, with the gap of a second from being smashed, you pressed on the triggers, the wires shooting forward, planting to whatever surface they had found and pulling you with it.

It was reckless. Stupid. Using ODM gear when you couldn't see shit. But you were in a forest so hopefully it'll randomly latch onto trees. Or it could fucking slip because of the rain and you could die. But you took your chance, not that you had a choice.

One of the advantages titans had was that they could see clearly in the rain. Their enormous pupils followed your movements, hands reaching out to grab you. You twisted just in time, releasing the wires and shooting them again, using them to swing yourself further and faster.

And you did that. Every time the wires shot out, your heart caught in your throat thinking it'd miss and find nothing to latch onto but fate must've had your back because it didn't.

Until it did.

Perhaps it was the stupid rush of confidence you gained from moving so perfectly, that you had speedened up. That was the downfall. Though one had latched, the other anchor slipped, missing the branch and instead going over it. The moment you realized it, you knew it was over.

The momentum from before and the pull of the wires, you slammed against the trees, hitting your head so hard, you felt your skull crack, the pain ripping through your brain. The anchor that had latched onto the tree didn't bury itself properly and you clashed right against it. The metal hook went straight through your shoulders. And nothing could ever have prepared you for the agony that panged through.

You dropped, back clashing against the ground. You lied there, sprawled and bleeding out, the rain pooling in your eyes, blurrying your already hazy vision from hitting your head so hard. But you watched the titans surround you, an almost giddy look crossing their stupid expressions.

Those little fuckers.

And so you watched, helplessly, as one of them reached out, pulling you up by your legs, your head dangling upside down.

And all you saw was big wide eyes and gaped jaws.

One of the other reached out, wrapping it's fat fingers around your midsections, pulling you towards itself. The one holding you groaned, pulling you back, as if it didn't really want to share. Your abdominal muscles and organs strech to the point you thought you'd split in half.

What a shit way to die, you thought.

You survived Shiganshina, you survived Trost, you survived that damn 57th expedition.

And you were going to die here.

Alone.

While four fucking ugly as hell titans fought about who got to eat you.

'Second to none but Levi Ackerman', your ass.

But your friends, you thought. Eren had yet so much to go, that you won't be there to see. Before you left, when you've said goodbye to Connie and Jean, you smacked both of them in the head, that wasn't a good farewell, was it? Sasha would go hungry during meals because you won't be there to share half your food.

You wondered if captain would be the slightest bit of sad.

Had he noticed you missing by now? Would he miss the little banters and bickerings you had every day with him? Would he be disappointed that you were going out in such a lame way?

You closed your eyes, dangling upside down was not helping your case. Your head was starting to get empty as you felt the blood pool down in your head.

That's good. At least you won't be conscious while you die.

It won't hurt.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four. Five. Six. Seven....one,five, four? Ticktocktickticktocktick-

Then you fell.

It wasn't a gentle drop You hit the ground again, full force. And this time you felt your leg bend awkwardly, a bone snapped.

But it didn't hurt, not really. You were too numb by now.

You felt the ground shook as something heavy impacted. Four times. Followed by loud, gutteral animalistic growls of a titan.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

One. Two. Three. Four.

But it was the sharp metallic sound of a sword clanging was what woke you up.

Your eyes opened and you saw steam.

Ah. Were the titans dead?

But who killed them?

Your head turned sheepishly and you found the answer.

The rain had lessened now, your surroundings becoming clearer and clearer. There was Levi, staring at you with wide, wide eyes, mouth slightly parted. His swords were discarded by his side and he just stood there. Was his hands shaking?

Oh, that's funny. That's the first ever time you've seen captain react that much. He looked funny with such big eyes. Was it because of how filthy you were? You couldn't see yourself, but you knew. You must've been caked in blood and mud. Is that why captain was so shocked?

Your mind was so fuzzy, you wanted to go to sleep. Would the captain mind if you fell asleep here? In this filth?

Levi finally registered the sight. He shifted, still in a daze, and then he dropped, straddling you. Careful enough to not let any of his body weight touch you.

He looked so scared.

"Shit." He muttered. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Oi brat—" His hands closed around your arms, shaking you. Your brain felt as if it rattled in your head. "Fuck–can you hear me?"

His hand pressed against your face and he flinched at how cold you were. You only stared at him through half-lidded eyes.

Then, weakly, with all you had, you parted your lips, the words barely audible.

"...Bit late I'm afraid." You mumbled. "You do realize shaking me doesn't actually help, don't you? Unless you want me to throw up or something."

Levi felt his heart hitch.

"You little shit–" he took a sharp breath. Then slowly, carefully, he slightly shifted you holding your hair back to inspect how bad the damage was, and it wasn't a pretty sight.

"I'm a goner, aren't I?" you muttered quietly, wincing when one of his fingers accidentally grazed against the injury. Levi immediately pulled his hand back, his hand stained red.

"Shut up." He hissed, trying to keep his growing anxiety from showing. "You're bleeding like shit. Thats way too much blood."

"I'm aware, can't help it." you groaned when your leg moved a bit too much, "Got it on your clothes too."

"I could care fuck less about it right now, you dumbass." Levi snapped out. The he shifted off of you, kneeling beside. He unhooked the green cloak around him with fast fingers. The green surface was smeared with dark red in places.

Carefully, he pulled you up by the shoulders, cradling you against his chest. You almost cried at the sudden feeling of warmth, and the sharp wave of pain that shot through your bent leg. Tears stinged your eyes. "Knew you cared." You mumbled, an attempt to lighten the dire situation and to ignore the way your whole body ached and how you already felt the lack of oxygen in the air. Levi let out an irritated breath as he used the cloak to wrap around your head to stop the bleeding. His breathing loud and heavy beside your ear. "Can you shut up, you ungrateful brat? I'm trying to save your damn life."

Levi worked so gently, it was unfamiliar. You wondered as your head rested on his shoulder and his hands worked around you, every movement slow and careful, trying his best not to hurt you more.

Ah, so even the harsh captain can be this gentle. And despite emptiness clouding your head, you felt slightly glad. At least you got to see this side of him. This is a nice way to die.

As if he had somehow heard your thoughts, his jaw tightened. "Don't even think about dying. That's a fucking order."

If only the world worked like that.

Levi knew he wasn't doing a good job. His hands shook too much, and it was causing you unnecessary pain. He froze everytime you winced, taking a few seconds until you stilled, then continuing. He was also aware of how dirty the fabric was, with dirt and mud, to press all that filth into an open wound was downright stupidity, but this'd have to do. It's either this or watching you bleed out to death.

"Okay," he whispered quietly under his breath, more to reassure himself than you. He turned you so he could see your face. An absolutely panic stricken look passes him when he sees the tears. "Fuck, Did I hurt you too much? Does it still hurt?"

You sniffled, mouth twitching to a grin. You tried to ignore the pounding in your head. "It's not your fault. You didn't do anything."

Levi nodded, his eyes shifting to your shoulder. "How the fuck did this even happen?" He hissed sharply, seeing the metal anchor buried deep in the flesh. "Even when you get injured, it's in the stupidest ways possible." He thought about it for a second, biting the insides of his cheek. Unsure what to do. Then he sighed. "Shit. It's best to let it stay there. If I try to pull it out, might accidentally tear something. And the bleeding would be too much to handle."

"Nice." You groaned, then all of a sudden, broke into a fit of coughs, blood spilling out with each jolt. Levi's eyes widened at the sight, pupils blown out.

"The titans." You coughed, trying to explain. "Must've fucked up my insides. The grip was too tight."

Levi frustratedly ran a hand through his hair, uncaring of the grime and filth. His face screwed up and eyebrows knitted together, the fear in his eyes wide and clear. Internal bleeding was much, much concerning.

"Captain," the word was a groan. Your eyes were so heavy, begging to go to rest. Would that be so bad? "...I don't think I can make this one out."

"Yes you are." Levi said flatly as he went over your leg. "But if you don't stop talking, I might actually make you a goner." You snorted, the slight action paining you. But it was nice. With him fussing over.

"Come on, we gotta get you back-hey–" he slapped your cheek, seeing your eyes flutter. Gentle but sharp. "Don't pass out, kid. Better keep those damn eyes open. Stay awake. Stay the fuck awake, you hear me?"

His fingers fiddled with your uniform straps, removing the gas tanks and the overall gears. He had to cut down the wire that stuck with hook that was latched to your shoulder since he couldn't take it out. The removal of the extra weight made you feel slightly better.

"Alright," Cautiously, he hooked one arm over your shoulder, the other under your knees. "Brace yourself, this is going to hurt as fuck." Then, though carefully, with one sweep pull, he picked you up. And despite his warning, and the mental preparation, he was right. It hurt like shit. A soft cry escaped your lips. "I'm sorry, just–just hang on." He mumbled, cradling you close to him, adjusting your head so that it rested against his shoulder. He knew it wasn't the most ideal position as it'd be hard for him to move with ODM while holding you like this, not to mention your leg would not probably be in the best state either. But he couldn't think of a better position, your head needed support, he couldn't let any weight on your abdominal muscles either.

Then without moving his arms from beneath you, he reached for the ODM triggers with his hands and pressed his fingers down.

The takeoff was the final push. The jolt as he kicked off the ground and the pain that followed right after was the limit. You knew you were going to die.

"You pretend like you don't give two shits, but you're going to miss me once I'm gone aren't you?" The words escaped you without thinking. You weren't really thinking at all, it's just this urge that took over. But if you're going to die, you wanted to keep talking. You wanted to hear his voice. You wanted him to scowl and snap at you to shut up. So until you can't, you wanted to keep talking. One last bicker. Never in your life had you thought he'd be the one to hear your last words or that his ones would be the last you'd hear. And you didn't mind. At all.

"Fuck off." He responded coldly.

"I'm serious."

"You're serious? Now that's a shocker."

There he went, from one tree to another. You grinned, looking up at his contorted face. He was trying so hard not to panic, his eyes flicking from you to the route.

"Captain."

"Can't you just keep your mouth shut for once in your fucking life?"

"Said life's on the verge of death, so I'd rather not."

"Stop saying shit like that. You're not dying on me."

You sighed. He was wrong. You were indeed dying on him. Despite the warmth of his body pressed against you, you could feel your own temperature lowering dangerously. The cloak he had used as a makeshift bandage to stop the bleeding weren't helping much better either as you felt blood trickle over your eyes. You felt weak, dizzy, disassociated. You could barely remember where you are and where you're going.

"Captain. Thank you for choosing me."

"What?" Levi's eyes shifted towards you, surprised and confused. It was such a strange sight. The bangs he so carefully kept were now all messy and disheveled, some strands sticking to his face with sweat. You returned his silvery gaze.

"Thank you for choosing me. Letting me be a part of your squad. Saving my ass everytime I fucked up. For everything, really. You weren't the nicest, but you have a good heart. And I'm not the best at expressing gratitude but I had to let you know."

"Shut up." Levi hissed through gritted teeth, his voice cracked ever so slightly. The rain had lessened into a drizzle.

"Once I'm gone, there won't be anyone to nag you to go to sleep. Remember to take breaks, won't you?"

Levi wouldn't look at you. He couldn't look at you. But his hold tightened. "Shut the fuck up. Keep talking and I'll drop you." Oh, but you had to keep talking. Your breaths were numbered you could tell. And you wanted to spend them on talking.

"And hydrate. Don't drink too much tea. Stop being mean to Hange and Eren. Let Sasha eat, don't ban her from meals when she fucks up.." the words slurred, your voice becoming quieter with every words and each were punctuated with heavy and heavier gasps. Your eyes closed. The light was too bright for you. And blood was pooling inside your mouth, choking you. "..they care for you. I hope you know that. So be nice every once a while. It won't kill you I swear."

Levi sucked in a breath. "Oi, brat." His voice was so far, so far away. You wanted to reach out and hold on to it, somehow wrap yourself around it. So unlike the usual stoic and dry comments he'd send through your way.. "...I take it back. Don't shut up. Keep talking. Keep blabbering whatever the fuck- Don't die on me, not like this–shit–not like this—" Guess he did care after all. "—stay with me, come on, stay with me.–"

You were fading. Drowning. Floating. But you heard him. His words a broken record, repeating over and over in your brain—staywithmestaywithmestaywithme…

You apologized silently. You would if you could. But the air was choking you and you couldn't stay any longer. You'd stay with his mean ass for life if you had the choice, didn't he know? Didn't he know you dedicated your heart for him?

Oh. Time's out.

Goodbye.

Captain.

(might write a part 2 lol)

[novaursa]

hiiii how are you?

I can’t stop thinking about Aemond twin sister who was also sent to Oldtown and fell in love with Gwayne.

She came back with him to King’s Landing and her mother is like pist at her. When Gwayne and Criston go to battle she follow them on Cannibal to make sure that nothing happens to him. She got injure in the fight again Meleys and Gwayne can leave her side 🥹

The Crimson Sky

- Summary: When Gwayne was ordered to go to Rook’s Rest, you followed him.

- Pairing: niece!reader/Gwanye Hightower

- Note: To read more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 6 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @holdingforgeneralhugs

- A/N: Request that I've received for Aemond should be out soon too, as it pretty much similar to this one. So, I've just made them simuntaniusly.

The echoes of footsteps reverberated through the stone corridors of the Red Keep, a haunting sound that mirrored the unease in Alicent Hightower's heart. She stood at the edge of the window in her private chambers, overlooking the sprawling city of King's Landing. The city was restless, much like her own soul, as if it sensed the storm that was brewing both within and beyond the castle walls. 

The letter from Oldtown lay open on the table beside her, the ink still fresh with words that brought both relief and dread. Her brother, Gwayne Hightower, was riding toward King's Landing with a force of Hightower knights, bolstering the Green cause in their struggle against the Blacks. And with him, her daughter, her sweet girl—though hardly a girl anymore—who had been sent to Oldtown all those years ago.

"She returns with Gwayne," Alicent murmured to herself, her voice barely more than a whisper. The notion should have filled her with joy. But the rumors... those insidious whispers that had even managed to penetrate the walls of the Red Keep, refused to be silenced.

The door creaked open behind her, and Alicent did not need to turn to know who it was. The scent of parchment and ink preceded him, along with the stern, unyielding presence that had always defined him. Otto Hightower, her father, the Hand of the King, stepped into the room, his expression as inscrutable as ever.

"I take it you have heard the news," Otto said, his voice measured, betraying nothing of the emotion that Alicent knew he was capable of.

"Yes," she replied, finally turning to face him. "Gwayne is coming with her."

Otto inclined his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as they met hers. "It is as we had hoped. Reinforcements from Oldtown will be invaluable in the coming days."

Alicent's gaze drifted back to the letter, her hand trembling slightly as she touched the edge of the parchment. "But at what cost?" she asked, her voice low, almost trembling. "The rumors, Father... they say things—unspeakable things about Gwayne and her. About my daughter."

Otto's expression darkened, and he stepped closer, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. "Idle gossip," he said dismissively. "People will say anything to sow discord, especially in times of war. We must not let baseless rumors cloud our judgment."

Alicent looked up at him, her green eyes wide with worry. "But the nature of these rumors... it's not just idle talk. They say she and Gwayne... that they are more than uncle and niece, that they are lovers." The word fell from her lips like a curse, and she shuddered at the thought.

"Do you believe it?" Otto's voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade.

"I don't want to," Alicent replied, her voice breaking. "But she has been away from me for so long. And Gwayne... he has always been protective of her, ever since she arrived in Oldtown. I... I fear what may have happened in my absence."

Otto's hand tightened on her shoulder, almost to the point of pain. "Alicent," he said firmly, "You cannot allow yourself to be swayed by rumors. We must focus on the war, on securing the throne for Aegon. Your daughter's honor is not to be questioned based on the gossip of those who would see us fail."

Alicent nodded slowly, but her heart was heavy with doubt. She could not dismiss the images that filled her mind, of her daughter and her brother, together in ways that were forbidden, sinful. The thought of it made her stomach churn, and she had to close her eyes to keep from weeping. But there was something else, something that frightened her even more. Her daughter was bonded with Cannibal, the most fearsome and wild of the dragons, a creature that had never been tamed. What if the dragon’s nature had seeped into her very soul, making her reckless, uncontrollable?

"What if there is truth to it?" she whispered, the question hanging in the air like a specter.

Otto's expression softened, just a fraction, as he looked at his daughter. "If there is truth to it, then we will deal with it. But we must not act rashly. There are greater matters at stake here, Alicent. The realm needs stability, not scandal. We cannot afford to let this undermine everything we have worked for."

Alicent swallowed hard, trying to push down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. "I cannot bear the thought of her being shamed," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "She is my child, my daughter. I sent her away to protect her, and now... now it feels as if I have lost her."

"You have not lost her," Otto said firmly. "She is returning to you, to her family. We will welcome her back with the honor she deserves. And as for Gwayne... I will speak to him. If there is any truth to these rumors, he will answer to me."

Alicent nodded, though she found little comfort in his words. Her thoughts were a tangled web of fear, love, and suspicion. She had always known that the bonds of family were complex, but never had she imagined they could become so twisted, so dangerous.

"Father," she said softly, "What if Aemond finds out? He is... possessive of her, protective. If he were to believe these rumors..."

Otto's eyes flashed with concern, and he released her shoulder, stepping back as he considered her words. "We must ensure that Aemond does not hear of this. His temper is too volatile, and his love for her... it borders on obsession. We cannot allow him to be provoked."

Alicent nodded again, but the fear lingered. The thought of her son, her fierce, vengeful Aemond, reacting to such news filled her with dread. She could only pray that Gwayne and her daughter would arrive without incident, that the rumors would prove false, and that the family could focus on the war at hand. 

But as she stared out over the city once more, the uneasy feeling in her chest remained. The winds of war were blowing, carrying with them whispers of scandal and betrayal. And Alicent could only hope that her family would not be torn apart before the storm had passed.

The courtyard of the Red Keep was alive with activity, the clang of armor and the clatter of hooves echoing off the ancient stone walls as the gates swung open to welcome the Hightower forces. Banners bearing the sigil of House Hightower— the tower crowned with flames— fluttered in the wind, a proud sight that filled Alicent with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia. These were her people, the kin she had left behind in Oldtown so many years ago. Yet the emotions churning within her were anything but simple.

Aemond stood beside her, his presence as imposing as ever. The hard line of his jaw and the cold fire in his eye spoke volumes of the impatience he could barely contain. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword, as if daring anyone to provoke him. Alicent knew his thoughts well enough—he was eager to see his sister, his twin, and if the rumors that plagued Alicent’s mind held any truth, Aemond’s reaction might be the spark that ignited the wildfire. 

Otto Hightower stood on her other side, his expression carefully neutral, but Alicent knew him too well. He was watching, calculating, preparing for whatever might unfold in the moments to come. His eyes were sharp, taking in every detail of the approaching entourage.

Gwayne Hightower rode at the front of his men, his armor gleaming in the midday sun. There was an aura of confidence about him, the kind that only came with years of experience in both battle and court. His gaze met Alicent’s as he dismounted, and for a moment, there was nothing but the shared understanding between siblings—a connection forged long before they were drawn into the deadly game of thrones.

“Welcome, brother,” Alicent called, stepping forward with a smile that she hoped conveyed warmth rather than the anxiety gnawing at her insides. 

“Sister,” Gwayne replied, his voice deep and rich with a familiarity that eased some of the tension in her shoulders. He approached her, inclining his head in a respectful greeting. “It is good to see you after so long.”

“And you as well, Gwayne,” Alicent said, her voice softer now, more genuine. “We have missed you here at court.”

Gwayne’s eyes flickered to Aemond, who had not yet spoken. “Aemond,” he greeted with a nod, but there was no warmth in his tone, only the formality of recognition between two men who were not entirely certain where they stood with one another.

“Gwayne,” Aemond responded, his voice clipped, the tension in him palpable. His eye scanned the ranks of Hightower knights, as if searching for someone. “Where is she?”

Gwayne’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “She will be here soon, Aemond. The journey from Oldtown was long and wearying.”

Alicent noted the careful wording and stepped in before her son could press further. “You must be exhausted after such a journey, all of you. The King has ordered that you be well cared for—rooms have been prepared, and a feast will be held in your honor.”

Gwayne nodded, accepting her words with a grace that belied the tension she could sense in him. “We are grateful, my lady.”

There was a brief pause, the silence heavy between them. Alicent felt the weight of unspoken questions, the rumors lingering like a shadow over their reunion. She searched Gwayne’s face for any sign that might betray him, but he was as unreadable as ever.

“How has Oldtown fared in these troubled times?” Alicent asked, choosing her words with care, hoping to probe gently without drawing blood.

Gwayne’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if he recognized the maneuver for what it was. “Oldtown remains strong, sister. The people are resilient, as they have always been. Daeron is well, a credit to our House. As for… other matters, all has been as it should be.”

The last words hung in the air, heavy with insinuation. Alicent caught the slight emphasis, the deliberate choice of words, and it set her on edge. Did he mean to reassure her, or to hide something more sinister? She could not tell.

Before she could press further, the sky above them darkened, and the unmistakable sound of massive wings beating the air filled the courtyard. A shadow passed over them, causing men to look up in awe and fear as a dragon circled above. But this was no ordinary dragon—this was Cannibal, the wild and ancient beast that had never been tamed, bonded only to her daughter.

The sight of the massive black dragon circling overhead sent a chill through Alicent. Cannibal was a fearsome creature, unpredictable and terrifying in its sheer size and ferocity. The fact that her daughter had bonded with such a beast had always unnerved Alicent, and now, seeing it here, so close to the Red Keep, that unease returned tenfold.

Aemond’s lips curved into a smirk as he watched the dragon’s descent. “It seems she has arrived,” he said, satisfaction coloring his tone.

Gwayne’s face was a study in conflicting emotions as he watched Cannibal. There was admiration, yes, but also a tension that Alicent did not miss. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, she thought she saw something akin to fear in his eyes—fear not of the dragon, but of what its presence might signify.

The dragon circled once more before veering off toward the Dragonpit, its massive wings slicing through the air with a sound like thunder. Alicent released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her heart racing in her chest. She turned to Gwayne, watching him closely, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Impressive, isn’t she?” she asked, her voice light, though her eyes were sharp as they fixed on his face.

Gwayne forced a smile, but it did not reach his eyes. “She is a sight to behold, indeed.”

Alicent could see the effort it took for him to maintain his composure, and it only deepened her concerns. “I trust that her presence has not caused too much trouble in Oldtown?” she ventured, testing the waters.

“None at all,” Gwayne replied, but the answer came too quickly, too smoothly. “Her dragon is as much a part of her as her blood, is it not?”

“Of course,” Alicent agreed, but her mind was racing. Gwayne’s tension was palpable now, and she could not shake the feeling that there was something more beneath the surface. The way he had watched Cannibal, the slight tremor in his voice—these were not signs of a man completely at ease.

Before she could delve deeper, the sound of approaching footsteps caught their attention. Ser Criston Cole, ever the vigilant protector, strode into the courtyard, flanked by a contingent of Kingsguard. Behind him, veiled but unmistakable in her presence, walked her daughter, the niece of Gwayne Hightower, and the twin sister of Aemond.

Alicent’s heart leapt at the sight of her daughter, so regal and composed, yet she could not help but notice the tension in her as well. There was something different about her, something that had changed in the years since they had last seen one another.

Aemond stepped forward, his eye locked on his twin, but it was Gwayne who drew Alicent’s attention. His gaze was fixed on her daughter as well, and in that moment, Alicent saw the truth in his eyes—a truth she had feared but could no longer deny.

There was more between them than simple kinship. It was there in the way Gwayne’s breath hitched as he looked at her, in the way her daughter’s gaze flickered toward him before quickly looking away. It was in the tension that hung thick in the air, in the unspoken words that passed between them.

Alicent’s heart sank, her worst fears confirmed in the space of a heartbeat. She could see it now, plain as day—the connection between them, the bond that went beyond family, beyond duty. It was something deeper, something forbidden.

“Come, we must not keep the King waiting,” Otto’s voice cut through the tension, bringing them all back to the present.

Alicent forced herself to smile, to play the role she had been born into. “Indeed,” she agreed, her voice steady even as her mind churned with a thousand thoughts. “Let us return to the Red Keep.”

As they made their way back, Alicent found herself walking beside Gwayne. She glanced at him, trying to read his thoughts, but his expression was carefully controlled once more. Yet she could not forget the look in his eyes as he had watched her daughter, nor the way his hands had clenched at his sides when Cannibal had flown overhead.

“You must be proud,” she said softly, “of how far we have come, how strong our family has become.”

Gwayne glanced at her, his smile faint but polite. “I am, sister. We have much to be proud of.”

Alicent nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. She could not shake the feeling that everything was on the brink of unraveling, that the threads of their carefully woven lives were being pulled apart by forces they could not control.

And as they walked back toward the Red Keep, with Cannibal’s distant roar echoing in the sky above, Alicent could only hope that whatever came next, her family would survive it.

The flickering candlelight bathed the walls of her chambers in a soft, golden glow, casting silhouettes that danced across the tapestries and silken drapes. The air was thick with the scent of lavender, meant to soothe nerves and calm the mind, but tonight, it did little to ease the tension coiling within you.

You stood by the window, gazing out at the darkened sky, but your thoughts were elsewhere. Worry gnawed at you, like a persistent whisper at the back of your mind, and it only grew stronger as the door behind you creaked open. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was—the familiar presence, the unmistakable warmth that seemed to fill the room whenever he was near.

“Gwayne,” you whispered, turning to face him, the concern evident in your eyes.

He stepped into the room, his expression softened with affection as he looked at you. “You shouldn’t worry, my love,” he said, crossing the room with a few quick strides until he was standing before you, his hands reaching for yours.

“I can’t help it,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly as you took his hands in yours, gripping them tightly as if you feared he might slip away. “Aemond told me what they plan—how they expect one of Rhaenyra’s dragonriders at Rook’s Rest. It’s a trap, Gwayne. They mean to spring a trap, and you’ll be there with them.”

Gwayne’s expression hardened slightly at the mention of Aemond, but his voice remained gentle as he cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I have faced worse, and I have always returned to you,” he said, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a tender caress. “I will return again, I promise you.”

“But this time…” Your voice broke, the fear creeping into your words. “This time feels different. Aemond is reckless, and Aegon… I don’t trust him to care for anyone but himself. What if something goes wrong?”

Gwayne leaned down, his forehead resting against yours as he closed his eyes, as if trying to draw strength from your presence. “Nothing will go wrong,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. “I will make sure of it.”

His words were meant to reassure, but you could hear the uncertainty beneath them, the fear that mirrored your own. You reached up, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his tunic, pulling him closer as if the closeness alone could protect him.

“I can’t lose you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your lips brushed against his. “Not now, not ever.”

His response was a soft, desperate kiss, one that quickly deepened as his hands moved from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him. There was a desperation in the way he kissed you, as if he too was trying to cling to the moment, to the safety of the here and now.

The kiss grew more urgent, more heated, and you could feel the tension in him, the way his fingers dug into your hips as if grounding himself in the sensation of your body against his. Your hands roamed over his chest, fingers tugging at the fabric, needing to feel his skin beneath your touch.

“Gwayne,” you gasped as he kissed down the column of your throat, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “I don’t want to talk about war, or Aemond, or anyone else. Not right now.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark with desire and something deeper, something that went beyond words. “Then let’s not,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Let’s forget everything else, just for tonight.”

You nodded, and that was all the permission he needed. His hands moved to the laces of your gown, deftly working them free as you did the same with his tunic. The fabric fell away, leaving you exposed to the cool air of the chamber, but the chill was quickly replaced by the heat of his body as he pressed against you.

You let out a soft moan as his hands roamed over your bare skin, the touch both familiar and electrifying. There was no hesitation in the way he touched you, no uncertainty—only the confidence of a lover who knew every inch of your body, who had memorized the places that made you tremble, that made you sigh with pleasure.

He lifted you easily, setting you down on the table behind you with a force that sent a few scattered objects clattering to the floor. But neither of you paid them any mind. Your focus was entirely on each other, on the way his mouth found yours again, the way your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them as he positioned himself between them, his eyes locked on yours, watching the way your breath hitched, the way your body arched toward him in anticipation. The first slow, deliberate thrust drew a gasp from your lips, the familiar stretch filling you with a deep, aching need.

“Gwayne,” you moaned, your head falling back as you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders. The sensation of him inside you was both comfort and torment, the slow drag of his body against yours driving you mad with desire.

He didn’t hold back, his movements quickening, each thrust more forceful than the last as he buried himself deeper inside you, his breath ragged against your neck. “They know,” he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, of keeping control even as his body threatened to overwhelm him. “Alicent… Otto… they know about us.”

You bit back a cry of pleasure as you tightened around him, your hands gripping his hair as you pulled him closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “I don’t care,” you whispered fiercely, capturing his lips in a searing kiss that silenced any further words. “I don’t want to think about them either.”

The kiss was consuming, a desperate melding of lips and tongues, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that was both frantic and familiar. The table beneath you creaked with the force of your movements, but you paid it no mind, lost in the sensation of him, in the heat that built between you, spiraling higher and higher until it threatened to consume you both.

His hands roamed over your body, as if memorizing every curve, every dip, the feel of you beneath his fingertips. And you responded in kind, your own hands exploring his body, the hard planes of muscle, the slickness of sweat that coated his skin as you moved together, faster, harder.

Your breath came in short, desperate gasps, your body arching off the table as the pleasure built, coiling tighter and tighter until it was unbearable. “Gwayne,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as you teetered on the edge of release, needing that final push.

“I’m here,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need, his pace quickening even further, driving you both toward the inevitable end. “I’m here, my love.”

The words sent you over the edge, your body shattering around him as you cried out, the pleasure washing over you in waves, pulling him along with you. He followed with a groan, his movements becoming erratic as he found his own release, his body tensing above you as he emptied himself inside you.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths, the feel of his body still joined with yours, the lingering warmth of pleasure that coursed through your veins. You clung to him, your hands gentle now, soothing as you held him close, not wanting to let go, not wanting to lose this moment.

But eventually, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his eyes soft with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “I love you,” he whispered, the words a balm to the fears that still lingered in the back of your mind.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice steady, but filled with the same deep emotion that he had shown you.

He kissed you again, this time slow and sweet, a promise in the way his lips lingered against yours. But as you held each other in the quiet aftermath, the world beyond your chambers slowly crept back in—the war, the dangers that awaited him at Rook’s Rest, the knowledge that nothing was certain.

But for now, you pushed those thoughts away, focusing on the feel of his arms around you, the warmth of his body against yours. For now, you were together, and that was all that mattered.

You sit astride your dragon, the wind whipping through your hair as Cannibal’s powerful wings cut through the air. The sound of battle echoes below, the clash of steel and the screams of men rising like a dark symphony. You can see the banners of House Targaryen and House Hightower waving in the distance, signaling the battlefield at Rook’s Rest. But your heart is not with the men below; it beats faster with each passing moment, drawn inexorably to the man on the hill, mounted on his horse, watching the sky with a tension that mirrors your own.

Gwayne.

He’s there, beside Ser Criston Cole, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. You know his eyes are on the horizon, where Meleys, the Red Queen, approaches with Rhaenys Targaryen astride her. His heart must be racing, as is yours, for different reasons. He knows the danger. You know the risk.

He’s always known, hasn’t he?

Even back in Oldtown, when you were sent away with Daeron, your brother, to be raised as a ward of House Hightower, it was clear that your life was bound to the iron will of your family. But it wasn’t duty that bound you to Gwayne; it was something else, something deeper, something forbidden.

It began with stolen glances, quiet moments in the gardens, and the brush of his hand against yours. Oldtown became your sanctuary, but it was Gwayne who became your world. The Hightower, with all its towering walls and ancient halls, held secrets—yours among them. The love that blossomed between you both was secret, tender, and as dangerous as the war that now rages around you.

Cannibal lets out a low, rumbling growl beneath you, sensing your anxiety. You press a hand to the black scales of his neck, grounding yourself. You were always a Targaryen, always bound to the dragons, but Cannibal… Cannibal was different. He was a creature of pure darkness, a beast of the old ways, feared and shunned by all but you. It was fitting, you suppose, that your fate would ride with such a dragon.

“Hold steady, Cannibal,” you murmur, though your eyes are fixed on Gwayne’s distant figure.

There’s no time to linger on thoughts of him. Meleys is close now, her crimson scales catching the light of the setting sun. Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was, a seasoned dragonrider and a warrior born, is a formidable opponent. You know this as well as anyone. Your jaw tightens as you prepare for what’s to come.

Gwayne’s voice echoes in your mind, a memory from nights past. “You shouldn’t do this. It’s too dangerous.”

“This is what I was born to do,” you’d whispered back to him, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “For the throne, for our family… for you.”

He hadn’t said anything more, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. He’d known then that this day might come, and he’d feared it as much as you had.

A roar splits the air, snapping you back to the present. Rhaenys has begun her assault, Meleys unleashing a torrent of flame upon Cole’s men below. They scatter like leaves in the wind, consumed by the fire. The scorpion ballistas fire their harpoons, but Meleys is swift, her aerial maneuvers deft and practiced. The shots go wide, missing her entirely.

And then, another roar—this one deeper, more guttural—resonates through the skies. It’s a sound that stops your heart, and you know it’s the same for Gwayne, though he is miles away.

Cannibal.

The battlefield below stills for a moment, as if the very world is holding its breath. Then, the black shadow of your dragon falls across the earth, blocking out the sun as you and Cannibal descend upon the fray. Rhaenys turns her head, her eyes narrowing as she sees you. There’s no time for words, no time for the politics or the pain of family betrayal. There’s only the battle.

Cannibal’s jaws open, and a blast of dark fire shoots forth, aimed directly at Meleys. Rhaenys pulls her dragon to the side, just in time, the fire missing by a hair’s breadth. The air is thick with the stench of smoke and burning flesh, the screams of men below barely audible over the thunder of dragon wings.

Rhaenys maneuvers Meleys with precision, and you feel the thrill of the challenge rise within you. Cannibal surges forward, claws outstretched, and the two dragons clash in a tempest of scales and fury. The sky is a blur of red and black, fire and blood. Meleys snaps at Cannibal’s neck, but he twists, his tail whipping around to strike her side.

Gwayne watches from his position on the hill, his knuckles white as he grips the reins of his horse. He knows your style, knows the ferocity with which you fight. But this… this is something different. This is war.

Above, another dragon’s roar cuts through the din, and you know it’s Aegon on Sunfyre. He swoops in from the west, brilliant golden scales shining in the fading light. Aemond follows on Vhagar, the ancient dragon circling above, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

It’s a dance of death, a deadly game of strategy and strength. Cannibal and Sunfyre move in tandem, each attempting to flank Meleys, forcing her into a vulnerable position. You catch a glimpse of Rhaenys, her face set in grim determination, her lips moving as she urges her dragon on.

Cannibal snarls, his teeth snapping inches from Meleys’ throat, but she’s quick, too quick. She lashes out with her claws, raking them across Cannibal’s side. He roars in fury, and you feel the impact through the bond you share with him, the pain a sharp lance in your side.

But you don’t falter. You can’t. Not now.

Sunfyre dives, his maw open wide, but Meleys is ready. She turns, a stream of fire bursting from her jaws, and it engulfs Sunfyre. The golden dragon shrieks in agony, his wings catching fire, the delicate membrane burning away. Aegon is thrown from the saddle, his body a blazing comet as he plummets to the earth below.

“No!” The scream tears from your throat before you can stop it, the sight of your brother’s fall searing itself into your mind. But there’s no time to mourn, no time to grieve.

Cannibal takes advantage of the chaos, his claws digging into Meleys’ back as he forces her downward. The red dragon roars in defiance, but Cannibal is relentless, his jaws closing around her neck, ready to end it.And then it happens.

A scorpion ballista, aimed by desperate men, fires a harpoon meant for Rhaenys. But the aim is off, the bolt instead striking Cannibal’s side, driving deep into his flesh. The black dragon lets out a roar of agony, his grip on Meleys faltering. The pain is overwhelming, the bond between you and your dragon screaming with the shared agony.

“Cannibal!” The cry is torn from your lips as you feel him falter, feel his strength ebbing away. You’re falling now, the ground rushing up to meet you as Cannibal spirals out of control. The world blurs, the sky and earth blending into one as you plummet, your heart in your throat.

Gwayne watches in horror, his voice lost to the wind as he sees you falling, sees Cannibal spiraling down in a trail of blood and fire. He digs his heels into his horse’s sides, urging the beast forward, racing toward where you’ll land, desperate to reach you.

Above, Aemond’s fury is unleashed. Vhagar, enraged by the sight of his fallen kin, descends with a vengeance. The ancient dragon’s roar shakes the very earth as he closes in on Meleys, who is weakened, bloodied. Rhaenys barely has time to react before Vhagar’s jaws close around Meleys’ neck, and with a sickening crunch, it’s over.

Meleys falls, lifeless, to the ground, her crimson scales dulling as death claims her. Rhaenys, too, falls silent, her body still and broken beside her dragon.

But Gwayne’s thoughts are not with the dead queen or the defeated dragon. His only concern is you. He rides hard, faster than he’s ever ridden, his mind racing with fear and hope. He can’t lose you, not now, not like this.

Cannibal crashes into the earth with a sound like thunder, his massive body crumpling from the impact. The force of the fall throws you from the saddle, sending you tumbling across the scorched ground. Pain explodes through your body as you hit the earth, the breath knocked from your lungs.

Darkness edges your vision, but you fight it, fight to stay conscious. You can’t succumb, not yet. Gwayne is coming. You have to hold on.

As the world begins to fade, you hear it—the sound of hooves pounding against the earth, growing closer, and closer. Gwayne. He’s coming for you. You try to move, to reach for him, but the pain is too much, your body too broken.

The last thing you see before the darkness claims you is his face, twisted in anguish, as he leaps from his horse. 

You barely feel the impact as you fall into his arms, the world around you blurring into a haze of pain and shadows. Gwayne's voice is a distant echo, calling your name, but the sound is faint, drowned by the thunderous roar of the battle still raging in the skies above.

"Stay with me," Gwayne pleads, his voice thick with desperation. His hands tremble as they touch your face, your hair, as if he's afraid you're already slipping away. Blood is everywhere—yours, Cannibal's, staining the ground beneath you. He can't seem to stop the flow, no matter how hard he tries.

"Cannibal..." you murmur, your voice barely a whisper. Your hand reaches out instinctively, searching for the bond you've always felt so strongly. But there's only silence. Cannibal, the dragon who was feared by all, lies broken, motionless, his once powerful body now just a dark mass on the blood-soaked earth. The bond between you and your dragon fades, leaving a gaping void in your heart.

Gwayne’s heart shatters at the sight of your pale face, your bloodied form cradled in his arms. He knows he should call for the maester, for anyone who can help, but the thought of leaving your side, even for a moment, is unbearable. He pulls you closer, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your cold skin.

"You’re going to be fine," he says, but the words sound hollow, even to his own ears. There’s too much blood, too much pain, and he can see the life slipping from your eyes. "You have to be fine. I won’t let you go. I can’t..."

You try to speak, to comfort him as you always have, but the effort is too great. The darkness is pulling you down, dragging you away from him, and there’s nothing you can do to fight it. The world is growing colder, quieter, and all you can think about is Gwayne. How much you wanted to tell him that you loved him, how much you wanted to stay with him, away from the chaos of the war that has torn your family apart.

Gwayne’s tears fall freely now, his chest tightening with grief. He’s never felt so helpless, so utterly powerless. He presses his lips to your forehead, a silent vow passing between you both.

"I will keep you safe," he whispers, his voice breaking. "No matter what, I will keep you safe. I swear it on my life, my love. I will not lose you. Not to this war, not to anyone."

The sound of approaching footsteps jolts him back to reality, and he looks up to see Ser Criston Cole riding towards them, his expression grim. Behind him, the battlefield is a smoldering ruin, the bodies of men and dragons alike littering the ground. Aegon’s fall has sent a shockwave through their ranks, and the once glorious day has turned into a nightmare.

"Get her to the maester, now!" Cole commands, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Aegon’s alive but barely, and we need to regroup. We can’t afford to lose her too."

Gwayne doesn’t respond, his focus solely on you. With a strength born of sheer will, he lifts you into his arms, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. In his mind, you are.

As he carries you toward the tents, each step feels like a mile, the weight of his promise bearing down on him. The battle rages on, but in that moment, Gwayne doesn’t care about the throne, the war, or even his duty. All that matters is you, and the vow he’s made to keep you safe, no matter the cost.

He won’t let you die. He can’t. Not when there’s so much left unsaid, so much left to live for. He’ll fight for you, as fiercely as you’ve fought on the back of your dragon. And if it means going against the very family he’s sworn to serve, then so be it.

As Gwayne reaches the maester’s tent, he refuses to let go of you, even as the maester tries to take you from his arms. He holds on, even as the world around him spins out of control. He won’t let go. He can’t. 

And as the darkness finally overtakes you, the last thing you hear is his voice, a whispered promise that anchors you to the world.

“I will keep you safe,” he vows again, and this time, the words are as unbreakable as the bond you once shared with your dragon.

Even if it takes his last breath, Gwayne Hightower will not fail you.

[ddlydevotion]

obsessive! Bobby Kennedy ‘rfk’ headcanons…

warnings: nothing too crazy just unhealthy obsessive behavior. just a bunch of thoughts I’ve had about obsessive! Bobby.

currently listening to: My Way of Life by Frank Sinatra ₊˚ෆˎˊ˗

It’d already be expected of you as his wife but he’d want you at every single one of his Senate Racket Committee hearings. His demeanor when interrogating even the toughest of criminals was always stone-cold, unbreakable. The complete opposite of the attitude he had towards you. There was something inside of him that urged him to amp up the 'tough, no nonsense lawyer' act. The reasoning behind this mindset was that he wanted to show you that he was capable of protecting you. capable of shielding you away from the cruelty of the world.

He takes you to every single event relating to his brother's campaign. He begins to sweat like a sinner in church when he's away from you for too long. One night you're in Boston and the very next you're in New York. It's quite a lot to get used to but you learn to manage since you know how antsy Bobby can get when you don't accompany him.

His family tease him about his infatuation with you and say that he's "smitten like a kitten". All he can do is chuckle and look away with a flushed face, but never does he deny it.

Has said that the greatest thing he's ever accomplished was marrying a woman like you.

Bobby does absolutely everything in his power to keep a sweet smile plastered on your face. You constantly tell him that he doesn't have to do all that he does, that you're happy simply being in the same room as him. However, this doesn't stop him from treating you as a princess of some sort. His specialty for gift giving truly shines through during holidays, anniversaries, and birthdays.

That restaurant that you like so much? Well, he got them to be caterers for your birthday dinner. That actor that stars in your favorite film? He managed to get them to make an appearance on your special day!

Has your name embroidered within the inside of his tie.

He has sooo many photos/things related to you placed all around his office. Anybody walking into his office is immediately greeted by a photograph of the two of you on your wedding day. He has little trinkets of yours scattered all over his desk. Don't even get him started if you enjoy painting in your pastime, your artwork will be plastered all over this man's office.

He even has photos of you as a baby.

He locked you down real quick. It worried your friends and family but once they saw just how disturbingly sweet he was when it came to you, they put their principles aside. He knew he got lucky having a girl like you by his side and he'd be damned if he were to let another man bask within your love.

If he's unable to take you with him on a work trip (for whatever reason), he is calling you sososo often. multiple times a day. He'll have somebody drop off flowers at your front door along with a letter that he demanded for them to place within the bouquet. He'd send flowers every day until you told him that you couldn't possibly keep all of the flowers alive + you were running out of room. He switched to just sending a ridiculously large bouquet once a week during his time away.

He pushes himself to the absolute limit when it comes to his work because he wants to be able to provide for you, and he wants you to be proud of him. His brother quickly picked up on his infatuation with you and uses it to encourage the best results out of Bobby regarding the campaign.

"we've gotta do this carefully, alright Bobby? I know you wanna get home to y/n, so, the quicker we get this done the sooner you'll make your way down to New York."

He wants you to know you can rely on him for anything and everything. You don't need anybody other than him. He'll be your best friend, your companion, your confidant, the one you run to.

He wouldn't isolate you from your loved ones because he'd hate to see you so upset. But, he'd do everything in his power to outshine anything that they do for you, even the smallest of things. It's his way of showing that he's the main person who truly knows what you want, and what you need. It honestly becomes a bit humorous because a friend of yours could get you a sweater and he'd buy you one with even better material just to overshadow them.

loves having you visit him while he's at work.

There's moments where you have to reassure and pump him full of confidence because he can get a bit self conscious. The environment he grew up in was incredibly competitive and he was always made to feel as if he was the runt of the litter. However, all those years of doubt and insecurity seem to melt right off once he's around you. Hearing you reassure him about the fact that he's a phenomenal husband and an amazing brother makes all of those negative thoughts in his head disappear as if they were never there in the first place.

taglist: @bobbykennedyswife @divinedelusional @fortheloveofjos @summerrivera777777 @romanticismboop @tomriddlethefinest @lancerslover @unmarlou message me if you’d like to be added 💌.

[paperdice]

HIIII how are youuu?? Sooo I wanted Golden cheese angst bcz we love angst right? …right? EHEM!!! One shot Mom golden cheese x child reader, the scenery is like when she’s gonna turn off the virtual world, what would she say to her child to calm them down? THABK YOUUU

𝐦𝐨𝐦!𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

"Let's not make much more out of all this, it pains my heart enough."

You could only watch as everything unfolds before your tiny eyes, watching your dough glitch was so uncanny,, What was happening to you and the other cookies? You felt like a harsh waterfall of fears and anxiety was just poured on top of you. Your head was hurting, why was it hurting?

You looked around for golden cheese cookie but your mother was elsewhere with the outsiders, but you didn't know where. Panic was creeping up on your paranoid confused mind with its long claws scraping against hope itself.

"momma?? has anyone seen my ma?? the queen??" you pleaded at your cookies for help but the panic and confusion was also spreading to their minds too.

A small body like yours was easy to miss, and your throat was up against the tight lump of fear which made it difficult to speak any louder than an inside voice. This made you frustrated, puffy red cheeks with tears wanting to roll down on them to finish the saddening piece.

Everything was too much, you just wanted your momma.

Like any child would be under unexplained pressure, you sat and began to cry where you were. You never had to go through anything like this before, nothing was even close to this, you were always pampered and safe. never had you thought to be separated from your mother in such dire time, because she always told you she'll be by your side.

"oh there you are! my poor baby bird.. I'm so sorry..!"

Your mothers voice shined a bright light to the darkness that was holding you in its grasp. Quickly looking up and running towards your mother, arms reaching out for her protection away from the world. Hiccups raided you when attempting to speak but all that came out was babbles and loud whimpering.

"oh no, you.." the distraught in her voice was clear, kneeling down and hugging you like it was the last hug she'll give. Her wings cradled you with its soft feathers,. "wh-whuAH!- is haH-haa-peen-nningggg. .. mommaa pl-leaze.." crying to tell her not to leave you again.

The most painful thing shes ever heard. Her baby trying so hard to talk through their fright after being left alone for how long. Her heart being broken is an understatement, it was stabbed and swollen, trying to stay strong for what's next.

Forcefully shutting her eyes by the time her own tears began to stream down her face. But she can't let you see that, you've been through enough as you proved.

Wiping away her tears with her arm, still holding her child in the other. She needed to do this.

She needed to do this right before shutting down her kingdom, but her heart aches so violently against her.

This was the closest shes gotten to her baby after the kingdoms perished, she doesn't wanna lose you again, she doesn't want to let you go. Losing the real you was the most difficult so she doesn't care that you're virtual because you felt just as real.

She gently holds both your shoulders and looks into your now redden eyes.. "I know there's a lot to explain, but.. I think its better not to uh, dull on it too much. because everything is okay." she smiled and felt bittersweet to speak more when she saw your face gleam as bright as gold, with faith in her words. "My gem, I've noticed how your dough has been getting paler as of late. Have you been getting rest?"

Have I been getting enough rest lately? hmm.

"I don't know, I can't remember.. is it that bad momma?" Worries was heard within your voice, "Nothing serious, just concerned me a little since it doesn't look good on you... How about you get some rest." she felt her brow flinch at the end of the sentence, was this the right way?

"mhm! can we nap together again?" .. "of course we can, anything you want."

A genuine smile was now on her face remembering all the times you two would nap, everytime you wanted to sleep you always invited her to join her. Even at the most uncalled for moments, your obliviousness spoke volumes of your love for your mother.

"I promise to nap with you whenever your small heart desires, no matter how many times you ask I'd do anything to be with you again."

Be with me again? ma's talking funny

"But I'm right here! And your bed is waayyy over there! let's go rest!"

"Yes you're right that's quite the far flight huh? How does sleeping in my arms in the meantime sound? Just like your real freshly baked days"

You don't exactly remember those days of course but you know your mother loved it based on how many times she'd reminisce about the memories. You didn't want to leave her side so you nodded and began to get comfortable, giggling at how goofy you felt. You were too big for this you thought.

"everything will be okay, sleep tight my love, I will wake you up when our morning comes.." tears falling as she saw you close your eyes and smile, "I love you ma." you said nuzzling on her inner arm, not realizing that you were fading away.

"I love you more, so much more.."

hellooo!! I'm doing alright how about you? I hope well, I also hope you like the angst! I had to resharpen my angst writing skills since its been a minute sobsob, thank you for the request and you're welcome! come back again if you're thinking of rolling another <333

[reccyls]

Victor's Main Route: Chapter 9 His POV Story

Masterlist

This is posted separately because it is unlocked on a 2nd readthrough and thus contains spoilers for later developments of Victor's route

His POV Story: I Wish for Your Continued Freedom

As we were carrying out an inspection of the city, we came across a puppet show that was being set up for some children. Since we were already here, we decided to lean against a wall nearby and watch as well.

Puppeteer: A long time ago, there was once a queen.

This story felt familiar.

Puppeteer: The queen always stayed inside her castle, and almost never came out.

(I do leave sometimes for inspections like this, but I usually stay in.)

Puppeteer: And one day, a little bird flew towards the queen.

As soon as I heard the word ‘bird’, my eyes naturally turned towards Kate. In that moment, she also turned her head to look at me, and our eyes met.

Puppeteer: The queen quickly grew fond of the little robin which filled her days with happiness.

(Just like you.)

She brought happiness with her every day that she visited my office. I gave her a smile and turned my attention back to the puppet show, just in time to see the bird puppet vanish.

Puppeteer: But one day, the bird stopped visiting the queen. Puppeteer: She was worried, so she ordered all her subjects to look for the bird. But no one was able to find it.

The queen’s puppet looked down sadly.

(...It won’t be long before I won’t be able to see you anymore.)

When she returned to her old life, I wouldn’t be allowed to be close to her. All I could do would be to watch from afar.

Puppeteer: At last, the queen left the castle herself to look for the robin. She found the bird, and wanted to bring it back with her to the castle. Puppeteer: But then, the robin would not be able to fly here and there as it pleased.

The longer the story went on, the more it felt like it overlapped with our current circumstances. My eyes narrowed.

Puppeteer: Feeling sorry for it, the queen decided to let it go. But she asked it to promise that someday, if the bird wanted to, it would come to visit her again. Puppeteer: And so the bird began to fly freely around the world. Puppeteer: The end.

Kate: …Huh?

Although Kate was surprised at the abrupt conclusion, it filled me with relief.

(Looks like the queen in that story and I both feel the same way.)

I believed that the bird would be happiest if it was set free.

(But it looks like the children and Kate aren’t satisfied with this ending.)

…

Victor: But I think there’s something else to this tale.

The dove at my feet spread its wings and took off into the clear blue sky. Doves were a symbol of peace. This one flew as if it could go anywhere it wanted.

Victor: The queen most definitely loved that bird.

I was sure of it. The queen in that story must have loved it.

Victor: And more than just because she pitied it, it’s because she loved that bird that she let it go. Victor: I think the queen in that story knew that to be free was to be happy.

I thought the same.

Kate: What if it wasn’t love, but just affection? Would the story be different?

I tilted my head at Kate’s question, and thought about my own answer.

Victor: Hmm… Maybe she’d have locked up the bird in her castle, if that was the case.

If loving someone meant granting them freedom, then to me, affection was its opposite: wanting to lock someone away despite their wishes. Because you wanted someone to look at no one else except for you, you confined them without sparing a thought for their feelings. I knew that kind of possessiveness lurked somewhere within me.

(That’s why I can’t let these feelings of mine develop any further.)

Victor: People each show their affection in different ways. But I believe that if you love someone, you will always want for them to be free.

(You, and Crown, and every citizen of this country. I wish that all of you can live freely.)

Victor: Because you love them, you want them to see the world in all its beauty.

(I hope that only the beauty of the world will be reflected in your eyes.)

Victor: And you hope that, if they feel the same for you, that they will choose to return to you.

(But I can’t hope for that.)

My wish for everyone to live a happy and free life did not include myself. No matter how many times the robin spreads its beautiful wings, no matter how many times it chooses to return to me, I didn’t want it to end up locked in a cage. I didn’t want to seize its freedom, to make it mine and mine alone.

(And even worse, I will lead that robin down a path to its destruction.)

That path led only to an endless darkness. Your name would not be engraved in history, no trace that you ever lived would remain.

(Rather than lead you to such destruction, it’s better that I stop wanting.)

(And that’s why I must send you back after this one month.) (Because I want for you to be happy, for the rest of your days.)

Even if the sound of a light knock at my door filled me with happiness, and seeing her earnest face made me want to protect her. Even if I couldn’t stop my hand from curling around hers, even if I couldn’t forget the kindness she extended to me over and over again. I had to do everything in my power to make sure she could return to her old life, so that no shadows would cloud her brilliant smile.

(That is my responsibility.)

What she said to me in that church that day so long ago, Has continued to fill my days with light and color. Kate had been my savior, ever since that day.

(May those memories stay buried.) (Because, if you were to remember… then you may end up being captured,) (by the desires I thought ‘Victor’ had discarded.)

To lift the mood, I winked at her.

Victor: But this is all just what I think.

And then I laughed, to hide how I truly felt.

[inbabylontheywept]

Want Better Things

“You thought that was a bioweapon?” 

The translator broke down for a second as the creature did a sort of broken exhale. Connotations were all that came through. Vague implications. Pity, the software flashed. Disgust. Anger.

A pause as it decided.  

Sadism. 

Valta was already backing away. The final decision didn’t change his behavior, it just made the hall feel far, far too short. 

“I didn’t order it deployed. I didn’t make it.” 

The thing was staring at him, and he couldn’t look away. The two eyes moved in such perfect tandem that he didn’t think it was conscious. It only had binocular vision because it only needed binocular vision. Always the predator, never the prey. 

And now it was moving in on him. 

“Oh, but what if you had? Then I could tell you all the things that were wrong with it.” 

One of its hands - a sprawling, five fingered  spindly thing - traced carelessly along the station's walls. 

“No incubation period. Symptoms arrive within 40 minutes of exposure. No time to spread undetected. Minimum should be one week. Embarrassingly low.” 

The pressure the thing was putting on the wall increased, the gentle glide turning into a buzzing scratch. Humans were strong, but not strong enough to cut through metal like this. The suit had to be powered and clawed. 

“Spread through contact. Limited waterborne. No airborne. Intended mechanism of infection is viral load being put on hands from scratching, and then passed into the environment. Pathetically inefficient.” 

The translator was working, but the thing was overeunounciating each word. The meaning was being passed along by a clean, helpful voice in his suit, even as the sound was being passed on through the environmental speakers. And the sound was dreadful - clicks of ceramized bone jarring against each other, wet muscles modulating air into something sharp and rasping. 

“Mechanism of death? Lysis overload. Could be dangerous if it was transmitted into the lungs, but since the initial load tends to be dermal all we wind up with-”

It took its helmet off. 

It took its helmet off. 

It took its helmet off it took its helmet off it took its helmet off in a biozone it - 

It looked a little pink, actually. A little scratchy. It lifted a delicate, taloned hand and rubbed its face against it for a moment before finishing. 

“-is a rash.”

Valta’s prey drive had glued him to the spot. It was too close. The stupid, stupid part of his brain that still thought he was grazing on Duranga hoped that if he stood still long enough, it might not notice him. 

The human paused a moment before continuing. 

“Do you know why they sent me? Alphonse Ericsen, PhD, MD, civilian doctor, here to speak with you?”

Valta’s snout twitched. The suit translated the gesture for him. 

“No.” 

“Because one of our grunts is a dumb fuck,” the human said simply. “And he spent two days fighting on your station with his helmet off. He got infected that way and brought back your stupid, itchy plague to our carrier ship, and now we’ve all spent the last 8 hours scratching ourselves raw. But the jokes on you, because when we were treating that guy you know what we found? That he was in the asymptomatic phase of a COVID infection. So if this-”

It gestured to its pink face with a snarl. 

“-is your idea of a bioweapon, then COVID is going to be your apocalypse. But if you work with me, and shut everything the fuck down for the next three or four months, I might be able to save most of you.” 

Valta unstuck at that. He’d spent weeks down here, worrying about nothing more than the next skirmish. Now he was looking at a genuine existential threat. 

“...What? Why would you help us? We wanted you to die. All of you. I wanted-”

The human cut him off with an exasperated wave of his hand. 

“You wanted something stupid. Doesn’t mean I have to join you. Best I can do to fix you is keep you alive and hope that you feel ashamed later. That, I genuinely look forward to. Now come on, you’re going to be the one explaining to all your friends what’s at stake here. My bedside manner is so bad that they limited my patients to virology slides and USMC marines. I think that’s actually one rung below the guys that just dissect cadavers.” 

Valta would’ve made an amused hum at that, but something already felt scratchy inside his throat.