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wosofutbolfan · 2 months

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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.”

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso community

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niko-sasaki-dbd · 4 months

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I'm watching this interview, and George and Jayden got me in tears. Like, I'm literally tearing up. But I think all the interview is so awesome, so here are some points:

I mean, common guys, the amount of "you're the best"/"no, you're the best!" interactions between these two is unbelievable, they are giving me toothache

George saying he's an overthinker but the chemistry with Jayden was something he didn't need to think about, cause since they met, it was just there.

Jayden saying that now it feels like they have been friends for longer than Edwin and Charles. And also, mentioning the fact they were asked if they had worked together before when they knew each other for like a week.

"I'm not gonna say it was annoying—how well they get along (...)" I just know that it was annoying, like you're no lying to me, sir. They were annoying af.

George talking about Edwin's Confession: "(...) What it's great about that moment, is that it offers the best case scenario—which I would say for queer characters on screen— you don't offen see. There's often a nice dose of trauma mixed in there."

Steve about the confession: "(...) That moment need to happen in the stairs in hell. (...) Edwin didn't know if they were gonna get out so he didn't know how many chances he was going to have, and I also don't think that he believed he would have the courage to say it if they made it back"

Jayden saying he meant it when he delivered the "you're the only person I would go to hell for" line, due to how close George and him are.

George research about Boarding School culture for Edwin included things as fives and riding horses, he also mentioned hunting lmao

What they said about all the cast and the way they work together, it's too much to put it here, but my god, it's sounds so cool [27:12]

"Look, every gay man had identified with every final girl in a slasher film for the entirety of history. Like we know what it's like to live that life" [!]

Steve saying that he wouldn't have written an autistic character and put an actor whose not part of the spectrum to play it, and adding that Edwin's personality traits are a consequence of his upbringing (his mother never touched him with an ungloved hand) and the fact he lives in kind of his own little bubble. Yes sir, that just confirmed this to me in a hundred different levels.

That's all!

#Admiring the capacity of George and Jayden to keep a poker face when they need to... Almost #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective netflix #dead boy detectives cast #george rexstrew #jayden revri #steve yockey #edwin payne #charles rowland #paineland #edwin paine #payneland #chedwin #ghosts on camera #notebook entry #queer representation #queer characters #interview

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uvuyai · 1 year

Text

“Wanting You Only” 𓆪

Minors DNI, below this point below includes suggestive wording, disturbing content and nsfw parts and such.

✧ꔛ˚┆➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒; 𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗕𝗢𝗬 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗚𝗘 𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗠 𝗫 𝗚𝗡! 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

✧ꔛ˚┆➤𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: suggestive, introduction,

✧ꔛ˚┆➤𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘.» Being with clingy roommates is really a pain, due to them being clingy and letting you barely go out, maybe you should step up but they made you step down.

✧ꔛ˚┆➤ 𝐓𝐖// collage au, poly relations, delusional, gore, killing, suggestive thoughts, mentions of impregnation, mentioned breeding kink, underwear stealing, size difference,

THE PROTECTOR 𓆪

✎ When you first met Axel, he came off as the poker faced "if i talk to you your dead" type of guy is what i imagined. He has long black hair that was tied into a rats tail with red eyes. You thought he was popular despite the way he gets love letters from various girls around campus.

✎ When Both you and Axel agreed to become acquainted with each other and move in, he started to be more less stoned faced and rather being more helpful. Whenever you go out he comes with you saying that you can get abducted at any given moment. You give him a small laugh which makes his pale cheeks turn bright pink.

✎ When cooking with each other, he usually stands behind you which you deemed un-normal for people as friends to do with each other since it is a very intimate thing when it comes to relationships which you weren't in. He shakes it off as it's nothing far too bad. It's clearly a lie but it's not as clear to you.

✎ When you're out with friends, he quickly goes into your dirty laundry and steals it for other reasons since he misses your scent around him.

✎ He doesn't let you in his rooms where he has a bunch of deadbolt locks on his door only he could enter through. What he has inside is cum stained underwear, pictures of you in the kitchen, living room or hanging out with friends.(the friends have black marker x's on their faces while you have small and bigger hearts around your face. Maybe he has a picture of you sleeping. Just maybe..

✎ In the mere future, he wishes to be married to you one way or another. Maybe includes a smaller version of you and him in the mix as well. That might just sound like a fantasy don't ya think? (He imagines how your walls would feel around him, orgasm after orgasm till he deems your filled to the brim with his cum.)

THE LONER 𓆪

✎ When Axel brought you too meet his family one day, you got well acquainted with his two year younger brother, Lance. He has bags under his eyes which were caused by his insomnia. When he moved in with you and Axel, there were some bumpy bumps here and there. Usually fights would break off which was circled around you most of the time.

✎ He has golden fluffy hair and lime green eyes. He is very pale and seems too much of an introverted person. Lance has pretty good grades and is in the student council. You respect him and try to help hime with his needs.

✎ And random times at night(mostly 12), he would come bursting into your room with tears streaming down his cheeks as his dug his face into your chest. He asks you to sing to him and you nod your head and proceed to sing him to sleep. Sometimes he fakes it and just wants to be in your warmth.

✎ He technically picks a fight with his brother for the sake of it. Axel knows he does it for your attention and your comfort which Lance knows he isn't much of a fan of.

✎ He's just like his brother, when you are gone or sometimes when your just chilling in the living room, he sneaks into the laundry room and steals some of your underwear. He doesn't cum do anything to it, he usually just wants to get off your scent. It takes his mind off the stress since he's been through a lot.

✎ Some days when you study with him, he often wishes you were on top of him, making him scream and beg for you while you squeeze around him. He wishes Axel and the others to hear what you're doing to him.

✎ He cherishes the fact that you and him could married one day since you look after him like he's your child or husband

THE JOCK 𓆪

✎ When Freddy first saw you in one of his classes, he quickly grew fond of you. He was amazed you weren't chasing him around or trying to get his attention. You were just a normal person in college.

✎ Freddy has long brown shoulder length hair with blue eyes. They look like sapphires when they glow. He is pretty cocky so he's the type to be a playful dom. When he looks down at you when you're in front of him, he just can't imagine how cute you look(He could see you squirming under him as you take his large cock).

✎ Everytime he glances at the crowd at his games, he always spots you in the crowd smiling at him. The world feels as if it went in slow motion. It gave him a little boost as he touched the goal.

✎ He likes to steal your attention away from Axel And Lance. He's the type to sling both of his arms around their shoulders with an outburst attitude. He is pretty rich and would spoil the hell out of you. He's like your sugar daddy but you don't get too intimate with him.

✎ Freddy is quite the trouble maker. When you're gone for too long or even for a minute, he won't steal your underwear. He'll rather steal your shirts that you don't wear often or things you use in your daily life, like a hair brush or a plush.

THE AVOIDER 𓆪

✎ Xavier is technically Axel if they were twins. When you met Xavier he just gave you a face of scowl and walked off but deep inside his heart sped up by a thousand.

✎ Xavier has curly dirty blonde hair and hazel brown eyes. He's pretty fit and actually has a pretty healthy schedule.

✎ When you became roommates, he didn't ask you for anything rather you had to ask him. He'd often shoo you off but after a few 'pretty pleasee' and puppy eyes, he'll face palm your face softly and he'll help you with whatever.

✎ He's pretty good friends with Axel, maybe friends since highschool. He despises you and Freddy since you both are annoying and whiny. But he has a soft spot for you so he despises you by a 1%.

✎ When he sees you with someone he has rivalry with, he'll try to ruin their reputation or slip some illegal contraband in their bag and report then to the school counselor.

✎ Xavier likes to send you gifts so he's your secret admirer but he lives with you. He likes to send you notes between you too so he's also your pen pal.

✎ He sulks a lot and finds your pillows for comfort since your scent is soothing and he likes you very much and he'll take it to the heart. He'll only do this when you're gone but when you're in your room and he's sulking he'll knock on your door and ask if he can chill with you.(there are times when he'll slide his hand over your thigh.)

A/N ; I know it's been a long time since I've posted but I'm back!

#thirst.𓆪 #✎ Collage boys #✎ Yandere harem #✎ yandere #yandere oc #yandere harem #✎ Suggestive 𓆪 #*SXXHIJKOX 𓆪 #✎ New theme #yandere smut #𓆩RI.𓆪 #𓆩!smutty.𓆪 #yandere x reader

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vitaminkyeom · 2 months

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[12:22]

PAIRING || Mingyu x Female Reader

GENRES || Fluff, Best Friends To Lovers AU

WARNINGS || none

WORD COUNT || 1k

A/N || based on this request! omg bestie you're so so right about this kim mingyu is a FREAKING GREEK GOD WITH HIS BEAUTIFUL SUN KISSED SKIN. 1k followers event [if you want to be added to the event taglist send an ask!]

TAGLIST || @prpldahy @yoonzinokim @sea-moon-star @hanicore @alyssng @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @hyneyedfiz @weebotakuboy @aaniag @jjeongddol @k-drama-adict @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hrts4hanniehae @mnstxmnbb @athanasiasakura @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @escoupseu @asasilentreader @isabella29 @mrswonwooo @wonvsmile @nonononranghaee @luv-uriboo @hoichi-02 [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

“shit.” you cursed as you flopped down on the hastily unfurled mat, grimacing as you saw the amount of sand your feet had collected when you had dashed from the sea to the current spot. as much as you loved the beach, there was nothing you hated more than having sand stick to your wet skin which always resulted in that prickly feeling all over your legs.

“done playing?” nayeon asked, looking up from the book she was reading.

“yeah.” you muttered, trying to dust off your feet. “why doesn’t the sand come off?”

“give it some time. it will fall off on its own. are the others still playing?” she asked again, staring at the five figures pushing and pulling each other as the waves crashed against them.

“yeah, they’ve still got energy left in them.” you replied, following her gaze. you watched the sun dip at the horizon, making the water look like golden ink as it gently lapped against the sparkling sand. as you watched your friends play, your eyes fell on the tall muscular figure who was currently giggling and laughing way too much, and you felt your lips automatically pull into a smile.

crossing your legs, sandy feet all forgotten, you watched kim mingyu as seungkwan tackled him into the water. you always knew the golden hour made your tanned friend look extra attractive but right now under the sparkling sea, he truly looked like a god.

as he came up to the surface his eyes met yours, toothy grin on full display as he stared back at you fondly. maybe because mingyu was such a sweet and lovely person, but you had noticed that an eye contact with him was more than enough for you to feel at complete ease.

even now you could feel yourself slipping into that comfort zone as you watched him jog towards you. it was funny how much of an effect he had on you, but the last thing you expected was your stomach to flip when he shook his head, causing water droplets to fly off his hair and fall on you.

“hey!” you complained, causing mingyu to just laugh as he flopped down beside you.

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” you could hear the concern laced in his voice as he handed you a water bottle.

“you know what, guys? maybe i’m going to go dip my legs in the water too.” nayeon declared, standing up. giving the two of you a smile, she dashed off, leaving both of you alone.

“are you sure?” mingyu asked again. you cocked your head to the side, slightly confused about what he was talking. “sure about what?”

“you’re okay? is it too hot? or is it the sand pricking your skin?”

you stared back at him. “how did you know?”

“how did i know what?” mingyu asked, already taking out a towel from his bag.

“that the sand was pricking my skin?”

“because you always complain about it whenever we go to the beach, silly.” he said with a smile, and you felt your heart stutter a bit. he gently wrapped the towel around your legs and began wiping them. “i know it’s uncomfortable but don’t worry. once your leg dries off it will fall off on its own. but i’ll try my best to dust them off.”

up this close, you were hit by his tangy smell, the smell of the salty sea combined with his signature cologne that he always wore, something you had grown to like over the past few years. you could see the moles on his face, something you had always joked about by saying that the stars had decided to land on his face on those spots.

“stop looking at me like that.” he chuckled, causing you to snap out of your daze.

“like what?” you asked.

mingyu looked up at you, his soft smile making you feel giddy. everything inside you felt light, like with him you could forget everything that bothered you in this world.

“like you’re in love with me.” he joked.

and in that moment, it felt like you had just been struck by a huge wave, almost drowning you in the sea. but mingyu had held your hand tightly, easily pulling you out of it and everything felt clearer all of a sudden. it was like your head had finally come out of the water and was breathing fresh air, and all you could see was mingyu.

mingyu. the golden boy you apparently were in love with you.

mingyu, who did everything for you without even you asking him.

mingyu, who could understand all your feelings without you telling him.

mingyu, who always made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

“i’m in love with you.” you muttered, still staring at him in a daze as the realisation slowly ebbed away. and it was like the realisation had cleared your eyesight because now you could see how ethereal he looked under the golden sun with a thousand times more clarity.

and you could feel the way your heart stuttered at his looks, the way your stomach flipped at his every touch and the way you craved to collapse into his arms right now.

“earth to y/n.”

blinking back, you forced a smile back onto your face. “yeah, i’m listening.”

“good. thought that joke killed you off.” he laughed, finally getting up. you laughed with him, trying not to look like you had just discovered the worst possible secret of your life, because how could you be in love with your friend?

mingyu extended his hand towards you. “want to go find some sea shells?”

you looked up at him, wondering if he was, is or will ever be in love with you the way you were with. shrugging the thought of with a smile, you took his hand as he pulled you up. “sure. let’s go search for some.”

why not just enjoy the moments you had with him, right?

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

#caratlibrary #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu fluff #fics.#[12:22].

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finelinevogue · 1 year

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i love you more than dino nuggets

summary - the night before the final show

pairing : fiancé!harry x reader

word count : +2.3k

a/n : originally was going to include the show but i have another idea for that so i’m off to write that now !!! the title will make sense as you read😭😭

It was the final night before the last love on tour show and you’d already cried three times.

Once on the plane over to Italy. Once on visiting the stage being set up today at the stadium. And once, now, crying because of how overwhelmed you feel.

You were busy getting ready in your shared bedroom, whilst Harry entertained the rest of your friends and family downstairs.

The house Harry owned in Italy, that was soon to become yours too in a week, was a massive Roman inspired villa. The orange stone that the building was made of created a cool villa to live in and with over 12 bedrooms it was the biggest house Harry owned.

All of Harry’s family and friends were staying over here for the duration of the last love on tour show, and then also for your wedding next week.

Whilst some wondered why Harry would end the love on tour shows in Italy, when nothing would ever beat the homeliness feeling of Wembley, it was all because you were getting married here a week Saturday.

How could you not? The perfect background for a summers wedding, in yours and Harry’s favourite country.

“Babe?” Harry knocked on the door and enters before you answer.

“Yeah?” You sniffled, wiping your fingers under your eyes to clear the mascara marks.

“Wha— What’s with the tears, baby?” He asked with a laugh.

“I don’t even know!” You laughed, starting to cry all over again.

“Is it ‘cause the the cake decorator cancelled on us again? ‘Cause, babe, I promise you that I will bake the bloody thing myself.”

Harry came and sat next to you on the bed, handing you a handkerchief he pulled out of his blazer pocket.

Tonight was a big celebration for him and so you’d decided to all get dressed up and have one final supper all together. Harry was in a gorgeous black slate suit, with a basic white t-shirt underneath. You matched him with a simple black halter-dress.

“Turns out these suit tissues are useful for something.”

“Thank you.” You said, dabbing underneath your eyes.

“You’re going to make me cry before the night is up, I just know it.” He nudged you with his shoulder, causing you to fall into him.

You rested your head on his shoulder and let your hands fall into his lap. His arm came around your body and hugged you close, kissing the side of your head as he inhaled your coconut shampoo.

You sat in silence for a few moments, Harry’s fingers coming to play with yours. Twirling around each other until they find home in an interlocking movement.

“Can’t believe this is all real.” You said first.

“Babe, you’re only saying that because we watched The Truman Show the other day.” Harry chuckled.

“Don’t say things like that.” You playfully hit him, but Harry caught your hand before you can go for a second playful punch. “Y’know that my worst fear is this all not being real.” You mumbled.

Harry nodded his head.

“Then let me show you just how real this is.”

Harry pushed you to lay your back down on the bed, your legs still touching the floor from where you sat on the edge of the bed. Harry moved to hover over you and took your intertwined hands with him, moving them to link above your head.

A loose strand of hair tickled your forehead and Harry blew it away with a soft blow, making you smile.

“You’re so pretty.” Harry stopped to pause and just take you all in.

“I thought you were supposed to be showing me how we are real.” You sarcastically told him. The glint in his eyes told you just how cheeky he thought you were.

Harry didn’t waste another moment before kissing you. Your lips met his instantly and just like you’d been doing for the past five years, you kissed and kissed and kissed. You both knew when to bite or slow down and speed up. You were so in tune with each other.

When you started to pant slightly out of breath, Harry slowed down and moved his lips away from yours just a fraction.

“Breathe, baby.” He whispered against your lips.

“Mhm.” You tried to inhale some air.

“Was that real enough for you?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe we should try a—”

Harry’s lips pressed back against yours and he let go of your hands, because he knew you were itching to touch him.

Your hands went straight to his cheeks, pulling him in to guide his lips against yours, whilst his own hands remained gripped to the bed sheets as he held his weight up. You kissed him until both your lips were red and swollen.

A knock on the door is what interrupted you both.

“Fuck.” Harry mumbled, stuffing his head into your neck to hide from everyone else. Now that he’d had a moment with you, he didn’t want anyone else.

“H? Y/N?” The sound of Anne came through the other side of the door. “I know you two love each other, but you have people downstairs waiting for you.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle that you’d been caught making out by Harry’s mum. You felt like a teenager all over again.

“It’s not funny.” Harry pinched your sides playfully.

“Did y’hear me?” Anne asked.

“Yes muumm!” Harry replied, pretending like he was annoyed when in reality he could never be anything but kind to his mum.

“Be down in five, otherwise I’m coming in next time.”

Harry grunted and dropped his head back into your neck, softly kissing and biting at the skin he could find exposed down there.

“Harry stop.” You tried to push him off, laughing, but he was too heavy and you were too weak to fight him off. “I’m not having your mum come back.”

“It’s an empty threat, babe.” Harry continued to kiss your neck and it was heading straight for a hickey.

“Umm… Do you remember Christmas of 2020?”

Harry’s head shot up at that, smirking as he looked down at you.

“Be more specific.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed because he knew exactly what you were talking about, but was just too much of a tease and wanted to hear you say it.

“Your mum thought I was in pain, but it turned out I was just receiving head from her son. So thanks for that. It’s a memory that will haunt me forever.”

“What? Me eating you out?” Harry looked even more cheeky. “Well, I guess we’ll have to fix that.”

His hands shifted underneath your body as he moved down until he was knelt on the floor in front of your legs. You kicked him with your foot before he could lift your dress though.

“Harry Styles!” You scoffed. “Your entire family is downstairs. Stop it.”

You were well aware that you sounded like a teacher, or a scolding mother, but sometimes it was the only way to get him to stop his adolescent behaviour.

“You’re no fun.” Harry groaned and laid on the floor like you’d just shot him through the heart with an arrow.

“Don’t marry me then.” You said jokingly.

You shook your head and walked towards the door, heels clicking on the marble floor as you went. You brushed your dress down from creases.

You stopped in front of a full length mirror to check yourself out before you rejoined everyone downstairs. Everything was still set in place, despite the copious amounts of crying.

Harry came up behind you, having felt him before actually seeing him through the mirror.

He wrapped his arms underneath your armpits and squeezed you in a hug from behind. You tilted your head to one side of his body so he could plant a soft kiss on the skin you’d left exposed.

“I love you. And I can’t wait to marry you.” He kissed you again. “For you to be mine. Officially.”

“And you’ll be mine.” You turned your head and looked him in his eyes. They were so full of love, sparkling from the excitement you gave him.

“I’ve always been yours.”

His lips met yours once last time before you really did have to go downstairs.

Harry held your hand as you walked down the stairs together, occasionally checking that you were alright and that your heels weren’t going to make you fall.

Once you were down them, Harry immediately brought you into his side and had his arm around your waist. You copied his motion and followed him into the outdoor seating area.

Lots of long tables had been set up on the large patio for people to sit at, with an extra long table that was arranged with food and drinks for everyone here and an extra hundred people.

There was meats, fish, pasta, pizza and even veggie dinosaur nuggets that Harry had shipped from England just for you. For drinks there was everything from water to very expensive wine. Wine that come from the vineyards Harry has invested in around this area.

Everyone cheered when Harry and you finally turned up, many people already sitting down and tucking into their food and some people nursing glasses of fizz as they chatted.

The glow of the moon and the strings of hundreds of fairy lights made the atmosphere that little bit more special. There was some light piano music playing in the background and everything felt at peace with the world.

“I’m just going to go say to hi to a couple of people. Are you okay?” Harry asked you.

“‘Course. I’m starving and starting to get hangry.”

“Well nobody wants to see a hangry Y/N. Go on!” Harry shooed you along and you stuck up your middle finger at him. He watched you with admiration as you wandered off.

You made it to the buffet selection and happily see your dinosaur nuggets waiting for you. They even have a little sign on them that says ‘property of the lead singers fiance. don’t touch’ in Harry’s handwriting. Every minute he’s got spare he’s reminding people that you are soon to be forever each others.

You sit at a table with some of Harry’s relatives, chatting with them for a bit, before moving down the table to speak to your family.

You finished off your dinosaur nuggets and excuse yourself, wandering back inside the house and towards the freezer.

Opening it, you are amazed to find another three boxes of nuggets and you instantly fall a little bit more in love with Harry because of the simple action.

Your best friend, Ruby, meets you in the kitchen, as you’re turning on the oven to make more.

“Someone has been looking beautiful tonight.” She teased you, handing you over what must be your fourth glass of prosecco of the night.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” You laughed.

“Don’t be daft. No one is glowing more than you are tonight.”

“Not even H?” You challenged.

“I mean, yeah. But he’s only happy ‘cause you are.”

You blushed at her comment and take a sip of your drink. After the nuggets are in the oven, you sit on top of the granite kitchen island. Ruby clambered on after you, falling straight onto her back with how tipsy she is.

You laughed so hard that you ended up falling back too. Luckily the kitchen island is that big that you remain on it.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married next week.” You best friend says.

“Why does everyone keep focusing on that and not the final show tomorrow?” You wondered.

“Maybe because your wedding day is slightly more important than the end of Love On Tour.”

“I don’t think I see it that way.” You hummed at your own realisation. “They’re equal in importance. Tomorrow night is the biggest night of Harry’s career and it means a lot to me, therefore meaning a lot to me.”

“Girl, don’t tell me you’ve got cold feet.”

“No!” You blurted out, more sure of that fact than anything. “Never. I love Harry and I can’t wait for married life together.”

“But…?”

“But I think tomorrow night will be as equally as important to him and so it will be to me too.” You answered truthfully.

“Ugh. When did you get so sappy?” Your best friend teased you.

“Harry brings it out of me.” You gushed over your fiancé.

“You two are so sickeningly in love.”

“Don’t worry. Harry will give me my medicine later.” You attempted a bad joke.

“Okayyy….” Brad said as entered the room with a beer in hand. He’s been following your best friend everywhere she’s gone recently and you’re wondering whether he’s harbouring a little crush.

Both you and Ruby burst out laughing, you clutching onto your stomach from laughing so hard. Everything is so much funnier laying down too.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Harry asked, smiling when he saw you laughing. He walked up Brad and slung his arm around his shoulder as they watched on.

“Mate I don’t even know. I don’t think I want to know.” Brad answered.

“Harry? Do you love Y/N?” Ruby asked.

“Yes.” Harry answered quickly.

“Y/N? Do you love Harry?”

“I doo!!” You shouted, laughing afterwards.

“They love each other! You’re now both wifed up.” Ruby announced.

“What?” You laughed. “Harry can’t be my wife.” You giggled.

“Oh yeah.” Ruby laughed and it set both of you off laughing again.

Harry shook his head at you both and nodded for Brad to handle Ruby whilst he handled you. Brad made sure Ruby didn’t fall over when he stood her up, announcing he was going to take her somewhere to lay down for a bit to calm down.

You felt Harry’s hands on yours as he pulled you to sit up.

Once you sat up you warmly smiled at him, cupping his cheek and leaning your forehead onto his.

“Hey, baby. Y’doing okay?” Harry asked and smiled at you.

“Mhm.”

“Your dino nuggets are ready if you want them.”

“Yes please.”

“Okay. Stay here for me.”

Harry arranged them on a plate and added some sweet chilli sauce on the side for you. He then came back over to you and stood between your legs.

He dipped a nugget in some sauce and held it up to your mouth. He blew on it to cool it down, only because he’d seen chefs on the TV do it, and waited for you to take a bite.

You hummed in delight as you bit into it. “Mm mm.”

“Nice?” Harry asked, wiping your mouth of crumbs with a nearby napkin.

“Thank you.” You nodded. “I’m excited for a life full of you and dino nuggets, Harry.”

“Do you love me more than dino nuggets?” He offered you another bite.

“Love you more than anyone or anything.” You finished chewing before speaking. “But veggie dino nuggets are the second love of my life.”

“As long as I’m the first.” He kissed your forehead.

Both of you were in the kitchen for another twenty minutes, talking about anything and nothing whilst Harry fed you. A few people had walked in, but had left you just as quickly to enjoy this quiet time together.

A couple of people had snapped photos of you too, which you would be thankful for later.

At the end of the night, after there was a mass of friends and family cleaning up and washing dishes, everyone retreated to bed.

Harry had been saying his rounds of good night before he had joined you in bed.

It was past midnight and you wanted time to slow down. It was unfair that the last show of love on tour has crept up so soon. How dare it.

You understood Harry needed some time to himself now though and start building more of a life outside of touring for himself. For starters, marrying you.

Harry sighed as he got into bed, peeling back the covers and immediately wiggling is way across the bed, over to your side, and spooning you from behind.

He kissed the back of your neck a couple of times, just because he could, as you wiggled in his hold to get comfortable again.

“Tonight was fun.” You said softly, speaking into the darkness and knowing it was only Harry who could hear you.

“It was. Tomorrow night will be even more fun.”

“It’ll be bittersweet.”

“Maybe.” His hands held yours. “But I’m getting tired, baby, and I just want a bit of rest now.”

“I know, bub. I’ll just miss it, is all.”

“You’ll always still have me, though. I’m not going anywhere.”

You turned around in his hold, facing him and resting your faces so close that your noses were touching.

“I’m here to stay too. Forever yours when that ring gets put on me next week, baby.” You tell him, smiling a little too much at that comment.

“I… I think I’m going to play something for you tomorrow. Something i’ve never done before.” He sounded nervous telling you.

“Just for me?”

“Everything’s always for you. This piece will especially be.”

“Can’t wait.” You leaned in and pecked his lips so he could taste your excitement. “You’re going to be amazing.”

“I’ll be sad it’s over, but more than ready to step off the stage and down the aisle instead. That’ll be the best day of my life.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles fic #harry styles blurbs #harry styles love on tour #love on tour italy #harry styles italy fic

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ellecdc · 8 months

Text

Come Back, Be Here (part 4)

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 6.2k words

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, hurt/comfort, fluff, banter, Walburga Black, use of Y/N

Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. Now, you're moving in to 12 Grimmauld Place.

The group watched as the row of townhomes groaned and stretched to expose 12 Grimmauld place in all her glory. Sirius was certain he could hear his mother and father rolling in their graves to know that he – their disinherited blood-traitor son – was the last Black and official heir once again to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. He grimaced at the title.

“Two disgraced Black’s returning to the scene of the crime.” Ted Tonks joked, both Sirius and Andromeda gave him a look.

“Feels like the beginning of a bad, racist joke.” James mused.

Sirius groaned in response. “What happens when three blood-traitors, three muggle-borns and one half-blood half-breed walk into a bar?”

“Get drunk, I hope.” Lily muttered miserably.

“Well, Sirius, welcome home.” Andromeda announced as she made her way up the stairs to the front door. Sirius pushed the door open and stepped inside a house he hadn’t stepped foot into since he was sixteen years old. He had been so sure at that time that he’d never return; he wished he had been right.

The house was just as dark and gloomy as it had been when he left it, but it was now also covered in a thick layer of dust.

“Okay, please, for the love of all that is holy: Lily, Y/N, Remus, Ted: you are to touch nothing until Andromeda, James or I have checked it first.” Sirius said before pausing, “Scratch that. Touch nothing until Andromeda or I have checked it – okay?”

This earned him an indignant ‘hey!’ from James and a quick agreement from everyone else.

“YOU DISGRACEFUL, WRETCHED BOY!” Sirius’s face drained of all colour at the all-too-familiar sound of his mother’s screeching.

“That old hag is supposed to be dead!” He shouted as he and Andromeda ran up the stairs following the sound of his foul-mouthed mother.

“HOW DARE YOU STEP FOOT INTO THIS MOST NOBLE AND ANCIENT HOUSE, YOU FLITHY BLOOD TRAITOR!” the screeching continued.

The source of the chaos came from none other than an awful magical portrait of the very late Walburga Black, Sirius’ mother and Andromeda’s aunt.

“Oh, thank Godric, she is dead.” Sirius sighed in relief, though he wasn’t sure what he was going to do about the very unwelcome company haunting this house.

“Maybe we can remove it?” Andromeda mused as she tried to pull the portrait from the wall.

“GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF OF ME; SULLYING YOURSELF WITH THE LIKES OF MUDBLOODS YOU TRAITOROUS WHORE.”

“Charming as always, Aunt Walburga.” She muttered when her pulling was for naught.

Sirius attempted a silencio which seemed to work for at least a little as Walburga’s face contorted with rage and she continued spewing what Sirius could only assume was foul hatred for all things not Voldemort related.

“Okay so that will last like, not long enough at all. Merlin, I wish we could just burn this place down with her in it.” He muttered as they made their way back downstairs. Ted and James were cooing over a crying Harry who must have been upset at the screeching of the house’s previous occupant, while Remus and Lily muttered quietly to each other. You leaned against the wall with your arms crossed, appearing bored for all intents and purposes, but Sirius could tell you were straining your neck to peer into the rooms you could see from your post.

“Okay, semi-false alarm. Walburga is indeed still dead.” Sirius stated which was met with a cheer from James causing Harry to clap in comradery.

“However, she has cursed us with a magical portrait of herself stuck on the wall with a permanent sticking charm.” He finished, causing James to groan and Harry to start crying again.

“Okay, so, ignoring the unpleasant company for now, where do we start?” Lily interrupted.

“First of all, Red, as I said you will not be starting anywhere.” Sirius rallied.

“Sirius, this place is huge, and we need to clear a space for six of us to sleep tonight.” She countered, but the argument was interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

Everyone exchanged nervous glances. “Literally, no one should know we’re here.” James muttered.

“It could be Moody?” Remus offered nervously.

“Should Kreacher answer the door, Master.” A crotchety old voice sneered from behind him, causing Sirius to yelp and jump what felt like a foot in the air.

“Merlin’s tits.” James muttered as Harry started shrieking again.

“Godric, I’ve never seen you not hanging off my mother’s bosom; I sort of hoped you had died with her.” He muttered, rubbing his chest trying to convince his heart to return to a normal pace.

“Sirius.” You scolded from your place against the wall.

“Kreacher lives to serve the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, even if it’s occupants are filthy blood-traitors and their mud-bloods.” The ancient house-elf muttered.

“New management, new rule Kreacher, no more mud-blood talk.” Sirius barked.

“Yes, Master.” The elf sneered before heading toward the door. Sirius quickly pulled you and Lily, who was now holding a sniffling Harry, behind him much to the chagrin of the two women.

“Master, the wizard tells Kreacher that he’s a curse breaker sent by a Moody.” The elf mumbles over his shoulder.

Sirius relinquished his hold on the two witches and allowed the man entry.

Sirius reiterated to the curse breaker that Lily, Remus, you, and Ted were not to touch anything in any room until the curse breaker, Sirius or Andromeda cleared it first. The curse breaker showed James, Andromeda, and Sirius a few detection spells and a few simple reversal charms before they set off to different levels of the house; Sirius and Andromeda decided to focus on the bedrooms and bathrooms whilst the curse break started in the shared living spaces on the first floor, and James went to the kitchen with Kreacher.

Sirius felt like he was making decent progress. He and Andromeda had cleared out three bedrooms and two bathrooms between the second and third floors, and he had worked up a decent sweat. He had two boxes of dark artifacts to be either destroyed, uncursed or donated. The screeching had started back up in earnest again when the silencio wore off an hour after casting.

“You miserable hag.” Sirius muttered as he marched over to his mother’s portrait to recast the spell. Once the ringing in his ears stopped, he heard another shriek and a bang.

“Y/N!” Lily could be heard shouting, and Sirius bolted down the stairs. He arrived in the parlour at the same time as Remus and James.

“What happened?” Remus demanded.

“She touched a book!” Lily tattled.

“I’m fine.” You muttered as you sat up and cradled your right wrist.

Sirius sighed, fear melting into frustration which quickly melted into fondness. “You sneaky little witch.” He muttered as he moved to crouch beside you. “Let me see.”

“No.” You pouted.

“Y/N.”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Let me see your hand.”

“Bugger off.”

“You minx.”

Sirius sat there biting his cheek trying to suppress a grin at the sight of you sitting petulantly feeling embarrassed being caught having done something naughty.

“What did I say?” Sirius scolded.

You muttered something under your breath.

“What was that?” He smirked, leaning his ear closer to you for dramatic effect.

“Not to touch anything.”

“Uh huh. And what did you do?”

“I touched something.”

Sirius was full on beaming at you now.

“Thought so, let me see.”

You let out an indignant huff and held your wrist out to Sirius, who despite his crassness, took it so unbelievably gently in his own hands. It appeared that you had touched something that was cursed with a knock-back jinx, which twisted your wrist violently on impact. It could have been worse, small mercies.

“Dollface, I could have gotten you a book if you were bored.” Sirius commented as he reduced the swelling with a quick flick of his wand and placed a glacius charm to help with any more inflammation.

“Don’t tease me.” You whispered miserably, and Sirius looked up to see that your eyes were glassy.

“Are the tears because you’re hurt, because you’re scared, or because you’re embarrassed?” Sirius whispered back. Your eyes met his and a single tear fell. He lifted his hand which was met with a mild flinch before he gently wiped it away with his thumb.

“I’m not teasing, love. And you don’t have to be embarrassed; if it hadn’t been you, it would have been Moony.” Which was met with an indignant ‘Oi!’ from the werewolf who had moved down the hall in an attempt to give them privacy. “You also don’t have to be scared. Alright?”

You held his gaze before nodding with a sniff. He massaged your wrist and hand gently, recasting a glacius over the injury.

“Did I teach you this?” You asked quietly, causing Sirius’ head to shoot up from its lowered position.

“Do you remember?” He asked unbelievingly.

You moved your head back-and-forth as if to say so-so. “I remember...uhm-”

He waited with bated breath watching your face as you organized your thoughts.

“Bludgers. The smell of cigarettes and broom wax. And a broken wrist.”

Sirius was sure he heard angels singing. Her first memory is resurfacing. And it’s when I broke my wrist playing quidditch at Potter manor.

“It was you, wasn’t it? Who broke their wrist?” You clarified.

Sirius nodded dumbly. “Yes.” He croaked.

“I think you got hurt often.”

Sirius chuckled, “Yes, I certainly did.”

“That must have been exciting.” You mused.

“I’m sure I was exhausting.” He countered as he continued massaging your arm. He could probably stop now, but he really didn’t want to.

“Please; you got hurt because you were playing quidditch, I got hurt because I touched a book after I was specifically told not to touch anything.”

Sirius barked a laugh. “Oh, come now. It’s my fault really; I should have known better than to try to tell you what to do.”

You both sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments; Sirius continuing to work out tension in your arm.

“Which book was it?” He asked you finally. He seemed to catch you off guard, as you looked at him inquisitively. “Which book were you trying to read?”

You blushed but stood up and pointed to the offending book. Secrets of the Darkest Art.

“All this fuss over a book, babe?” he smirked at you as your blush intensified. He cast a quick counter curse over it like the curse breaker taught him and handed you the book.

“Now please, for the love of Merlin, don’t touch anything else?” He asked with a smile which was met with a shy smile of your own.

“Thanks, Siri.” You mumbled. His heart soared at your use of his old nickname, and before he even realized what he was doing, he bent down and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Read up, my little swot. I think I heard Kreacher muttering about making dinner. Hopefully it’s not poisoned.” He said as he exited the room.

Turns out, dinner was not poisoned, and it was actually quite good. They all thanked Kreacher even though the elf acted as if the simple act of feeding them would be the thing to damn him straight to hell. The Tonks’ were quite eager to leave after the fourth rousing of Walburga and left before the dinner was served. Andromeda and Sirius had managed to de-dark-art-ify all the bedrooms on the second and third floor plus the bathrooms. They opted to leave his parents room, and his and Regulus’ rooms untouched. As much as they teased poor James, he accomplished quite a lot in the kitchen and main living room, while the curse breaker focused on the hallways and various parlour rooms on the main floor. Lily mentioned that she wouldn’t mind brightening the place up if Sirius was open to some redecorating – to which he responded with a quick “If it were up to me, Red, this place would be in flames by now”, so she advised she’d make some plans tomorrow. You and Remus fussed over Harry to save Kreacher from anymore toddler ear yanks, but if the house-elf was grateful for the interference, he didn’t show it. A message arrived stating that the cottage in Godric’s Hollow appeared to be secure; Lily looked like she wanted to cry at the prospect of being reunited with her things.

Remus said goodbye to everyone after dinner, stating he couldn’t leave the flat unattended since Sirius appears to be willing to neglect it for the next foreseeable future, which was met with a two-finger salute from Sirius and boos from James which were then chorused by Harry.

“It’s meant to be a slumber party, Moony. Just like the old days.” James whined, which sucked the air out of the room; it suddenly became very obvious to Sirius, James, Lily, and Remus that they had been betrayed by their closest friend, who was possibly responsible for the death of some of their other friends.

“Pads, we can’t keep paying for a flat that no one is using.” Remus argued.

“Uhm, I can, and I will, thank you very much. What’s the point of inheriting all of my family’s dirty money if I can’t waste it on whatever I want?”

Remus sighed, “Fine. I’m going home tonight, though. I can’t leave the cat and the plants.”

“You’re such a good daddy.” Lily smirked from the end of the table.

“Shush, you.” Remus said as he ruffled her hair before smoothing it out and kissing the top of her head. He moved to Harry and placed a kiss there too, before James stuck his head up as if he, too, was waiting for a kiss. Remus rolled his eyes before pecking both James and Sirius on the head and pausing at you.

“What? No kiss for me, Moony?” You smirked and teasingly batted your eyelashes at him. Remus laughed and placed a kiss on your head before waving and promising everyone he’d be back tomorrow, cat and plants in tow.

Much to Kreacher’s chagrin, Sirius and James insisted on cleaning up the kitchen themselves which got a “filthy blood-traitor’s” being cursed at them. He then announced he’d be going to the house in Godric’s Hollow to retrieve their belongings – surprising James and Sirius into silence.

Lily and James took the farthest room on the second floor, it was the largest which left plenty of room for a crib for Harry, and it had their own washroom. Sirius held the bags containing your things and watched as you inspected the other rooms, allowing you to choose next.

“Which room do you suppose Remus would like?” You asked him.

“Vix, it doesn’t matter. You choose.”

“If he has plants, maybe this room? It would get nice light in the evenings; I don’t think he’d appreciate the morning light.” You mused as if he hadn’t said anything at all.

Sirius couldn’t even celebrate the fact that you seemed to correctly remember something about Remus before he nagged you. “Y/N, for the love of Merlin, pick a room.”

“Well, which room are you taking?”

Sirius paused. “What?”

“Which room will you take?”

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck. “I have my old room upstairs. I was just going to stay there.”

You paused. “You aren’t going to stay down here? With us?” The ‘with me?’ was unspoken but Sirius heard it anyway.

“Oh, right. No, of course. Erm.” He looked at the three rooms. It appeared you had already decided the middle room was Remus’ – what with the sunlight for the cat or the plants or the sleeping or what-not. There were two other rooms kiddie-corner to each other. The one at the end of the hall was the largest of the two, and had windows on two walls, versus just the one wall containing windows in the other room.

“I think I’ll take this one.” He said, motioning to the smaller room. It was directly across the hall from the washroom, which was beside the last room – your room – which meant he would be close by.

“Okay.” You nodded, looking into the room you essentially forced Sirius into picking for you. “I’ll take this one then.” You smiled at him as if you chose it for yourself.

“Good choice, gorgeous.” He said as he placed your bags on the four-poster bed in the middle of the room. “Can’t wait to see what Lil’s comes up with for this place – all the Slytherin green needs to go.”

You hummed and looked around the dark room. “I don’t know, the snakes and skulls are really warm and inviting, Sirius. Don’t fix what ain’t broken.” You finished the sentence in a poorly done southern American accent.

The two of you quipped back and forth about the décor in various accents as you unpacked your bags. Sirius found the scene to unbelievably domestic and lovely, basking in the effervescent glow that was your company until you both retired for bed.

Sirius pushed the door open as quietly as he could and stole a glance at you; your breathing was even as you slept curled up in the fetal position on the bed where he’d left you several hours ago.

With a sigh, Sirius made his way down the stairs to the large parlour room – not coincidentally the one he knew had his late father’s liquor stored in an antique bar cart. He knew he shouldn’t – James and Lily fussed over him for months after you went missing, watching him spiral into himself as he tried to drink away his issues. He had to work hard not to end up completely dependent on alcohol – and it still wasn’t enough for him to stay in his supervisor’s good graces.

“You’re a good Auror, Sirius, and a mighty strong wizard – but this is getting out of control, and I cannot allow you to continue putting the rest of my staff at risk.” Moody had told him, and he was placed on a medical leave until James could confirm to Moody that he had gone a full four weeks without a drink.

Sirius sat with a crystal glass of fire whiskey and cast a quick incendio to light the fireplace. I feel like the ghost of my father he thought darkly. The Black’s were all basically carbon copies of each other – the only difference between the two Black sons and Walburga was that they had their father’s silver eyes. If Kreacher walked in now, he’d probably think he was looking at a down-and-out younger Orion Black, if Orion Black ever wore checkered pyjama pants and a band tee.

The fire whiskey was leaving a comfortable warmth in his stomach and esophagus as he leaned his head back against the chair. He felt so incredibly guilty.

Guilty for trusting Peter. Guilty for ever thinking the spy could be anyone but him. Guilty for believing you to be dead all of this time – when he could have been looking for you, should have been looking for you. Guilty to shouting your business in front of your friends. Guilty for ever introducing Peter to you. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

His musings were interrupted by a gentle knock on the parlour room doorframe. His eyes shot open, and he pointed his wand toward the disturbance, only to find the silhouette of you donned in pyjama shorts and a pullover jumper. He sighed in relief and unceremoniously tossed his wand back onto the side table.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” You offered quietly.

“No worries, love. I think everyone’s a touch jumpy these days.” He muttered, taking another sip from his glass.

You surveyed him from the door for a few moments before moving to sit in the matching wingback chair beside him, separated by only a small table.

“Couldn’t sleep?” You asked.

Sirius hummed, “Not well. Not for the last five months. Maybe longer.”

You nodded in agreement as you watched the flames dance in the fireplace. You hadn’t seen Sirius like this – not since you’ve been back, at least – but something about this mood of his felt familiar to you.

“Are you alright?”

Sirius laughed humourlessly. “The captive of an evil terrorist organization is asking me if I am okay because I happened to have my feelings hurt?”

He looked over at you, expecting to find signs of frustration or annoyance at his flippancy and obvious deflection. But - like he should have expected - all he saw was patience and understanding, and it broke him.

He hiccupped loudly and put his elbows on his knees, holding his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered miserably.

“What is it you’re apologizing for?” You asked quietly.

“For losing you. For allowing it to happen. For introducing you to Pete. For trusting him with any of you. For believing you were dead. For feeling at all sorry for myself because I simply missed you whilst you were out there fighting for your fucking life. For telling you any of this.” He moaned.

You chuckled softly. “You do realize you’re apologizing on behalf of a lot of other people right now, right?”

Sirius raised his head to look at you.

“Don’t let them off the hook that easily.” You added seriously.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re apologizing for the way Peter treated me as if it was your fault – by doing so, you’re relieving him of an awful lot of responsibility.” You stated simply. Sirius watched the flames dance in your eyes as you watched the fire.

“You believed me to be dead, and you mourned me – that’s not a punishable offence, Sirius. In fact, I think I’d likely be miffed if you hadn’t seemed affected at all.”

Sirius smirked at that.

“And finally, you don’t need to apologize for telling me things when I was the one who asked you to.”

Sirius shook his head. “I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” He muttered.

“You can do that tomorrow.” You stated plainly with a shrug.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

You sat in companionable silence as you both watched the fire. It wasn’t often Sirius found himself to be comfortable with silence and empty moments. Silence growing up always meant room for scrutiny – or it was due to his parents ignoring him to teach him a lesson. But it had always been so, incredibly refreshing with you. He always felt safe with you when neither of you felt the need to say anything at all, and just exist together in silence.

“At the meeting, you asked me if we were just friends before.” Sirius asked quietly. He continued when you hummed in acknowledgement. “Is that because you remembered?”

You considered his question for a moment. “Perhaps a bit. I don’t necessarily remember the moments or conversations, but I think a part of me remembers the feelings.”

Sirius hummed. “And the other bit?” He prodded as he turned to look at you. You smirked in response.

“Well, you’re not exactly subtle, love.” You winked at him.

Sirius barked a laugh. “No, I don’t think subtlety is a trait I possess.” He agreed.

“Lucky me.”

He stared at you for a long while.

“I don’t know how good at it I was.” He admitted.

“At what?”

“At loving you.”

You both let that hang in the air as you held each other’s gaze.

“But it was the best thing about me – getting to love you; being loved by you.” He added.

“That’s what woke me up.”

Sirius furrowed his brows. “Hm?”

You turned your gaze back to the fire.

“In my dream – or I suppose it was a memory. You and I were fighting; I accused you of only loving yourself. You laughed before you said ‘Actually, Princess, I hate myself. The only person worth love here is you.’”.

Sirius remembered that fight. It was after you had finally started talking to him again after the Worst Day of His Life™. You both decided to hash out exactly what happened that night with the stupid eyelash batting Hufflepuff that ended with you sleeping in Lily and Remus’ embrace after they had to clean up his mess.

(The boys dormitory, Hogwarts)

“It doesn’t matter, Sirius. What happened, happened, and it’s in the past.”

“It does matter though, because it hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, it doesn’t matter; I’m over it and it clearly meant nothing to you.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Decide what means something to me.”

“I didn’t, Sirius. You did. That night – you decided what I meant to you, which apparently wasn't much. It’s fine, you’re allowed to sleep with whoever you want. The relationship clearly meant more to me than it did to you – that was my mistake.”

“You weren’t mistaken!”

“Then why wasn’t it me!?” You finally shouted at him, tears begging to fall from your lower lash line.

Sirius didn’t have an answer for that. You scoffed at his lack of response and wiped angrily at your face.

“I don’t know why we’re even doing this.”

“Because it’s important.”

“It’s not important. It’s history. I’m over it.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t say you’re over it.” The ‘over me’ in Sirius’ plea was left unsaid.

“Well, I’m not going to lie to you, Sirius.”

“I just want things to go back to the way they were before. What can I do to fix this?”

“There’s nothing to fix, Sirius.”

“Bullshit.”

You stayed quiet.

“So, what? Am I not worth it then? Am I not worth fighting for?” He accused. Your eyes narrowed at him.

“Sirius, that’s not fair.”

“You’re not giving me anything else to go off here!”

“What about me!?” You shouted. “I need to look after myself for a change, Sirius. Because what all of this has taught me is that the only person you’re truly able to love is yourself.”

Sirius couldn’t help himself. He began to laugh; a real, loud belly laugh that began to hurt his sides.

“What the fuck is so funny?”

“You’re so far from the mark you can’t even see it anymore.” He laughed as he collected himself. “You couldn’t be more wrong. In fact, Princess, I hate myself. The only person worth love here is you.”

(present)

Sirius sighed. “Why couldn’t your first memory of me be me doing something awesome; like the time I caught you when you fell off your broom or something.”

You laughed. “I had bruises from your death grip after that fall for weeks. And you were so annoying – you would hardly let me walk down the hallway without your constant supervision.”

You both seemed startled at your recounting the memory, but neither commented on it.

“Well excuse me, love. What makes you think I should trust you on the moving staircases with your nose shoved into a book if you couldn’t even handle a simple flight session on a school broom a mere twenty feet off the ground,

“Oh please, I didn’t have my nose shoved into a book.”

“You did too.”

“And I was definitely at least fifty feet off the ground – probably more.”

“Nope, wrong again.”

“Stop gaslighting me.”

“Must be exhausting being wrong all the time.”

“You son of a bitch.”

The two of you laughed; the familiarity of the banter and joking felt like a warm hug for you both. You fell into a companionable silence until the crackling of the fire was interrupted by a yawn you tried unsuccessfully to suppress.

“Come on, love. Let’s get you back to bed.” Sirius said as he stood, standing in front of you and offering you his hand.

You jokingly whined but allowed yourself to be pulled up by the black-haired man.

“You look like a hockey player” You blurted as you walked hand-in-hand up the stairs.

“Pardon me?” Sirius asked incredulously.

You ran your fingers through his hair, and he relished in the feeling. “The hair cut – it’s like a hockey player’s; they call it a ‘flow’.”

“A flow?” He smirked.

“Mhm.”

“Do you like it?” He asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Love it.” You offered immediately as if it was the most obvious answer.

You paused at your respective bedroom doors, neither seemingly wanting to part ways. Well, Sirius knew he didn’t, and he assumed the tightening of your hold on his hand meant that you felt the same.

He wanted to hold you. He wanted to wrap you up in bed and stay there with you until the world ended. He wanted your hands to be fused together so that he’d never have to be without you by his side ever again. But he also didn’t want to push you; this was your call – he would let you choose; always.

“I don’t want to be alone.” You admitted quietly, almost as if you were embarrassed by the admission.

Sirius gave your hand three quick squeezes – a code the two of you had made when you realized that Sirius sometimes struggled to express his feelings verbally.

“Three taps or squeezes means ‘I love you.’” You had said to him simply.

“Babe, every breath I take means ‘I love you.’” He countered before placing a searing kiss to your lips.

“Funny, that. Neither do I.” He replied.

“Stay with me?” You asked him, eyes shyly meeting his.

“I’d love nothing more.” He said, as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Come on, love. Let’s try to get some sleep.”

James had tossed and turned all night, waking up in cold sweats. He had been eager each time to change Harry’s diaper or do a feeding, bouncing him a little longer than strictly necessary just to avoid having to be alone with his own thoughts again. But by the third time he woke Lily up in a panic, she’d kicked him out of the room.

“Potter, I love you, but if you don’t fuck off right now, I’m going to live the rest of my life as a widow.” And with that, he was banished from their bedroom.

He padded his way down the hallway, poking his head into the other doors. The room in the middle of the hallways was vacant; probably Moony’s he mused. The next room was also empty, but the sheets were disturbed as if someone had been sleeping in here, but also couldn’t sleep.

He poked his head into the last room and spotted two figures curled up in the bed, holding onto each other as if one of them could float away at any moment.

There was a voice in James’ head that told him he should leave them; they were likely having just as hard a time sleeping as he was. Also, it’d be weird to join them. However, there was a louder voice in James’ head that was screaming to climb into bed with them; so that’s the one he listened to. James had never been very good with boundaries.

He crawled onto the other side of Sirius and slid under the covers.

“Are you serious right now?” He heard his mate mutter groggily.

James smirked as he curled up behind him. “No, you’re Sirius.”

Sirius groaned. “Five points from Gryffindor for the terrible joke that only I’m allowed to make, and another five points for touching me with your cold ass feet.” But he didn’t tell James to leave, so he took that as a win.

“How’s she?” He asked quietly.

“So good, considering.” Sirius answered.

“I can’t believe him...” James started quietly, but he needn’t finish; they both knew who he was talking about.

Sirius took a deep breath. “I feel, guilty. Bad. Y/N says I shouldn’t.”

“Of course she would, she’s perfect.” James offered easily.

Sirius smiled into the top of your sleeping head. “She is.” He agreed.

“I can’t believe she survived, all that time.”

The two men sat, marvelling at your perseverance. “I’m dying to know who her allies were.”

Sirius hummed. “Me too. I don’t know how to feel about them yet.”

James nodded. “That’s okay, I don’t much know how to feel about a lot of things.”

Sirius snorted and then tensed, worried about waking you, but your breath remained even.

“Do you blame me?”

Sirius eyes flew open at that.

“Pardon?”

James sighed before repeating himself. “Do you blame me, for Pete?”

“What about him.”

“Well, I’ve been wondering, would you and Remus ever had made friends with him had I not dragged him along with us?”

Sirius laughed. “Okay, if it were left up to Remus, no one would have ever talked to him ever and he would’ve made exactly zero friends, so I don’t think you’re asking the right questions.”

“Pads...”

“No. Of course not.” Sirius stated. James remained quiet and tense behind him.

“I think Peter made a choice. He made a lot of choices, but he made a choice.” He said as he thought of your earlier words. Don’t let him off the hook that easily. “He has a lot to atone for.”

He could feel James nod and they sat in silence for some time, watching the lights move from the street below them.

Sirius was pretty well asleep when James spoke up again.

“So, are you guys like, back together?”

Sirius scrunched his face. “What in the hells are you talking about?”

“You and Vix? Does this mean mom and dad are back together again?”

“James, she doesn’t remember me.”

“Well that just can’t be true.” James argued.

“Why’s that?”

“No one who doesn’t know you would let you sleep in their bed, Pads. You look like a bad idea.”

Sirius groaned. “She remembers some things.”

“Nice! Anything about me?” James asked excitedly.

“Yes.” You muttered sleepily. “I remember that you’re unbearably annoying.”

Sirius beamed and pressed a kiss to your hair.

Lily began to redecorate, though she muttered unhappily the entire time about not being able to run to the shops. Every wall was painted white, causing each space to look far brighter and bigger than it had before. James took down every framed piece of art and gave it to Harry and Sirius to paint over – what were once paintings full of dark objects and pureblood legacy were now Gryffindor logos, the Hogwarts castle, a golden snitch, owls, self-portraits, or, in Harry’s case, a big truck. (If you close your eyes, you can absolutely see it).

Sirius insisted the house was still chock full of “bad vibes”, but everyone else already felt less suppressed.

Your memories were slowly returning to you, and much to everyone’s chagrin and to his absolute delight, Remus seemed to be the first of your friends you completely unravelled.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” James cried.

“I’ve never been so offended in my life.” Sirius muttered.

Lily refused to speak on the matter...but she also (playfully) refused to speak a word to you at all.

“I mean, really, what’s Moons got that I don’t?” Sirius whined as he watched the golden coloured orb on your scan get accessed by the travelling lights without incident.

“Class, obviously.” Remus claimed haughtily.

“Oh, I’ll show you class.” Sirius barked before launching himself at Remus who was sitting in an armchair with a book in his hand.

The two boys men struggled with each other, Remus never leaving the armchair nor dropping his book, before Sirius began whining.

“Say it.” Remus said with a smirk.

“Moony!”

“Say it.”

“Uncle! Uncle!” Sirius cried and Remus released his hold on his arm.

“Real classy boys.” Lily said with a roll of her eyes.

It had been about a week since Vix had been home and it was about a week until the next full, so Remus could not figure out why he felt so itchy.

“Maybe you’ve got fleas.” James offered as he shoved roast potatoes in his mouth.

“I don’t have fleas, you sod.” Remus muttered.

“No, that’s usually a Padfoot problem.” Lily chortled

Sirius elicited a dramatic gasp and held his hand to his chest.

“I have never once in my life had flea’s you hag.”

“Don’t call my wife a hag!”

“Then tell her not to act like one!”

“Can we not do this at the dinner table?” You moaned with a roll of your eyes. Both men stopped the antics and looked down at their plates, shame faced.

“Sorry mum.” They chorused.

You smirked and looked over to Remus, who still looked unsettled. “It’s not usual for you to get like this, this far from the moon.” You commented.

“No.” Remus muttered miserably. “I don’t know, something just feels off.”

“Our world has been flipped upside down multiple times this week. I think it will take some time for us to get our bearings again.” Lily admitted.

The adults nodded in agreement; Harry shook his head violently.

“No? You don’t think so Haz?” James asked his son.

“No!” Harry squealed happily, lifting a handful of crushed roast potatoes in his hand.

“Don’t mind him. That’s his favourite word right now.” Lily explained.

“Is miss finished?” Kreacher’s voice appeared beside you, causing you to jump in your seat.

“Oh!” You breathed, holding a hand to your chest. “Uhm, yes. Kreacher, thank you.”

The house-elf grunted and took your plate to the sink, before returning and pulling your chair out for you. James and Sirius shared a look at the odd behaviour.

“What are you doing, Kreacher?” Sirius asked.

You looked just as confused as Kreacher helped you stand.

“Kreacher has been asked to retrieve the mudblood.” He said plainly, and with a snap of his fingers, the two of you were gone.

Continue to part five here.

#sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #marauders x reader #first wizarding war #first wizarding war fanfic #reader insert #escapism #self insert #canon divergence #hurt/comfort #sirius black hurt/comfort #sirius black fic #sirius black one shot #sirius black blurb #sirius black ficlet

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 1 year

Text

ENTRY- HER

Pairings: George Weasley x Fem! reader Summary: George reads the letters he wrote about you to himself throughout Hogwarts Warnings: mention of have a b0ner, boobs, tears, hinting to masturbation, the use of Y/n is used a few times, I'm sorry

George bent down on the floor of his bedroom, he looked beneath to bed and pulled out a box that had been left untouched since he and Fred opened up the shop before the war

he sat down and leaned against the side of his bed, opening the box and pulling out the book

he sighed before opening it, turning to the front page, the first day he met you

1 september 1989

Dear diary

it's the first of september, meaning it's the day Me and Fred go to Hogwarts.

Me and Fred couldn't find an empty compartment to sit at, and there was no way we were going to sit with Percy, or Charlie- as his was already full

but we Found one with a boy in our year, Lee. he's cool, he let us sit with us and gave us some candy- which made mine and Fred's nose bleed. I didn't think anybody other than me and Fred would care about jokes and pranks, but i guess I was wrong, cause Lee does too!

the train started moving and we waved to our parents. i think it was about five minutes later when i saw a girl walk past, still holding her bags and stuff, she looked lost

I opened the door and let her inside

she smiled and sat with us, she wasn't that interested in pranks, but she laughed at the stories we told her.

Her name is Y/n, and I have a feeling she's going to stick around for a while.

George smiled and turned to the next page, a year and a bit later.

December 12, 1990

Christmas is coming up soon and our friends are doing a muggle thing Lee told us about- secret santa

not all our friends wanted to do it, but the main ones like Y/n, Angelina, Alicia, then it's me, Fred and Lee, so there's six of us, even

I got Y/n, I still don't know what to get her, there was no money limit or anything like that, but I just don't want to get something too cheap- but that's probably all I can afford

she's a good friend and after the first day of first year, she's stayed by our sides, no one else let her in to sit with on the train but we did, so she stayed

I'm glad she did, she's funny. and as much as she says she hates doing it- she helps me and Fred with pranks a lot, mostly because she's smarter than us

I wonder if she got me for secret santa, the odds of that would be really low, but it's not impossible, i would accept anything she would give me with a smile

George had gotten you some candy from Honeydukes- and you, infact did not get him, instead you had Fred, to which you gave him a bunch of products from Zonko's

George flipped to the next page as he heard noise coming from outside, dinner was probably coming soon and George would have to hurry before he was caught reading these

November 28, 1991

My third year at Hogwarts started a few months ago, the Famous Harry Potter started his first year

my younger brother Ron is his Friend, along with a strange girl, Hermione?

her and Y/n gets along pretty well, i think they go to the library together

speaking of Y/n, we've gotten closer, she would have to be my best friend- other than Fred. Lee is up there but he's been spending quite a bit of time with Alicia, I think there's something going on there, but i don't really know

Y/n decided to try out for the Quidditch team, due to mine and Fred's encouragement, she's really good, she should've been on the team last year, she's a chaser, and she's brilliant!

she's got the latest broom and it goes wicked fast, sometimes in training, we'll just race each other, she always wins though, mostly because I let her but who cares, it's worth it when i see the big smile on her face when she rubs it in

Fred started to tease me about it, saying i'm being soft.

I'm just being nice

October 13, 1992

fourth year started last month, school is getting a bit harder.

Fred Invited Y/n over in the holidays, she stayed at our house for about a week, I was a bit nervous that she would be overwhelmed by our family but she fit in great, Mum loved her and said she should come over for breaks from now on.

so she'll be coming over for christmas this december.

she stayed in Ginny's room, although she snuck into our room to mess around with jokes before she'd actually go to bed, I think mum knew that we did that because she glared at us when we would come down for breakfast the next mornings, she wouldn't say anything, just put her hands on her hips when we yawned

she's really cool, she's really pretty too, i don't think i've ever noticed it before, but she is, and Fred doesn't mind telling her that.

I think he fancies her because they always giggle to themselves

I don't know why but I would always get this pit in my stomach every time I saw them alone together.

He talks about her to me before going to sleep in our dorms, it's starting to piss me off, it was getting annoying because I just want to go to sleep and he'd start talking about something funny she said to him that day and he'd just laugh

i cover my eyes with my pillow every time to try and block him out, though it never really works

George laughed at that entry, looking back on it now, he should've known what the feeling meant

September 5, 1993

we got back from Holidays a few days ago, Y/n couldn't come over because she went over to Italy with her family

she had gotten boobs and the tight low cut shirt she wore to the train station really left little to the imagination, I know I sound weird and like a pervert, I shouldn't think this way about my best friend

but I can barely make eye contact with her anymore without my eyes lowering to her chest.

she's stunning and everything about her makes my heart flutter now.

she also had a slight tan and her hair was longer, she's always playing with it and I can't help the way my mind begins to wonder when i stare at her

she's making my body feel different, the way she bites her lip when concentrating, the way her eyes flutter when she looks up at me to talk

she's using lip gloss too, one that makes her lips look really kissable

I hate to admit it but i sat next to her in class yesterday and my dick decided it was a good time to get a boner, as painful as it was, all i could do was push it down.

she had noticed my uncomfortable state and in her sweet, innocent voice she asked if i was alright

"you ok there, Georgie?" she giggled

I could only nod my head.

and as horrible as it was, later that night, when laying in my bed, I couldn't help but ease the pain to the thought of her.

September 20, 1993

I fancy her, I've completely and utterly fallen in love with her,

it sounds like its just because her body has changed but it's so much more than that

she is kind and funny and sarcastic. and beautiful, like HOT.

too bad she has a boyfriend now, he doesn't deserve her and he wouldn't treat her half as good as I would if I were hers

Fred found out, turns out he never fancied her, but he just cares for her, as friends.

Fred thinks I should tell her, but I can't and I never will

Update- she broke up with him!

George laughed at the update at the end, which was 2 months later and flipped to the next page

December 6, 1994

McGonagall told us about the Yule ball today, a dance

my eyes were fixated on Y/n as she sat down laughing with Angelina across the room as I stood with Fred

Fred told me he liked Angelina a few weeks ago and I'm sure he'll ask her to the ball

Ron got called on to demonstrate the dance and she whistled at him, making him glare at her, to which she laughed

when the class was dismissed, Y/n came up to us and started joking around

I couldn't help but notice the way she has the top buttons of her shirt undone, and her tie a bit loose

it was getting rather chilly and she wasn't even wearing a jumper

I asked her if she was cold and she shook her head with a smile

"I like the cold, George, you should know that" she giggled, nudging me

she was rather short compared to me, the top of her just barely met my shoulder so she always looks up when talking to me

I've also noticed she likes to roll her skirt up, so merlin forbid she bends down to pick something up.

she's also gotten a bit more touchy, not just with me but with the rest of our friend group

her hugs would only happen coming back from breaks and holidays but now she'll hug you almost everyday in the mornings

her hugs have always been nice, but the way I can practically feel her boobs pressing up against me makes it all the better.

December 18, 1994

most people I know already have dates to the ball, Fred had asked Angelina to the ball within the first few days of hearing about it

Y/n has been asked a few times but she's politely declined every one

Fred keeps pressuring me to ask her already and I strictly telling him no, she'd reject me like every other guy whos asked her, and then it would make it weird.

We're also doing another secret santa this year, I got Alicia

Alicia is...nice? she just has a really big flirting problem, and that's not with everyone, just me

she asked me to the Ball a few days ago, and as much as I didn't want to go alone, I still said no

She's not really my type, and as much as i try to make her stop flirting with me, she just keeps doing it, I speak for all of our friend group when I say it's annoying, and I know that because they've all said it

it's nothing against her, but it's just weird

and Y/n doesn't mind talking about it, making jokes and stuff

the only person i have ever felt something for has been Y/n, and I don't want it to be anybody else

George remembers that week like it was all yesterday.

George was sat on the Gryffindor couch, your head in his lap as you told him about your day

"but anyway, why haven't you asked anybody to the ball!?" you sat up, sitting on your knees next to him

"I- I don't know, why haven't you said yes to anybody?" George questioned

"I don't like any of them, barely friends with most of them" you shrugged

"w- well do you? like anybody?" George stuttered

George noticed the small blush rising to your cheeks

"uh- not really" you smiled sheepishly "you?"

George's heartbeat quickened as he grew nervous

does he tell her?

"not really" he responded, copying your words

"you should go with Alicia" you nudged him shoulder, making him roll his eyes

"merlin" he cursed under his breath as you giggled

"only kidding of course..unless you actually want to?" you frowned

"if i wanted to go with her I would've said yes"

you smiled

"it's getting pretty late, i'm going to head to bed" you yawned

George nodded his head

"alright, goodnight"

"night, Georgie" you kissed his cheek before getting up and going to the dormitories

George stared off at the fire as the kiss lingered on his cheek, making his skin feel funny, a good funny

a few days later, Fred pushed George into asking you

"just go talk to her, this is probably your only chance!" Fred whispered before shoving George into you

you stumbled forward and almost bumped into Angie, who had to pause her sentence

you looked back and saw George

"sorry" he apologised

you grinned and gave him a hug "it's fine!"

Angelina saw Fred look at her from behind and walked over to him, leaving you with George

you stared up at George to see what he wanted but he only looked back at you nervously

"is there something you wanted, George?" you chuckled

"I want a date to the ball" he sighs, finally saying it, knowing that Fred would kick his ass if he didn't

"I'm sure Alicia will take you" you smirked

George licked his lips and thought of what to say

"no- no ok um...do you want to go with me? no! I would love if you would accompany me- wait ok. I really want you to go with me to the ball...I- I uh-"

December 20, 1994

I asked her to the ball, after what feels like forever being in love with her, I asked her

Fred pushed me into doing it

so I did, I sounded like a complete fool and I wish I could've said it better, word it so I didn't sound so stupid

maybe if I did that, she would've said yes

better yet- I had also admitted that I loved her, that I have for a long time. I had gotten so nervous that I outed myself

she just stood there in surprise before I ran off in complete and utter embarrassment

December 25, 1994

I went with her, it turns out that she was going to say yes but I ran away before she could've said anything

she told me she loved me too, and she made me the happiest man in all of Hogwarts

it was the Ball a few hours ago, you should've seen her, she was stunning- a type of stunning that when you see her, you can't say anything out of shock on how beautiful she is (which I did)

I can't describe the feeling I get when I'm with her- or see her, but it's overwhelming

i feel faint now every time I see her

she told me she would go with me the day after I had asked her in that stupid way. that was when she told me she loved me

she actually loves me.

I don't know how I can manage to make her love me but I'm grateful- and cautious

what if I mess up?

but that doesn't matter, we're not together

Update: jan 5- I asked her out, she said Yes!

February 19, 1996

Valentines day was 5 days ago, Y/n was obviously my Valentine and we had a great day, I took her to that tea shop in Hogsmeade she's been talking about for a while, if was very...pink and not the type of romantic that I like.

but she enjoyed it so I loved it.

we've been dating for a little over a year and it's great, I am absolutely in love with her and I think she is too

she's mad at me right now though

Today, at Quidditch, I beat up Draco Malfoy for bad mouthing, making Umbridge ban Me, Harry and Fred from the team, which is total bullshit!

anyway, I didn't get badly injured, Malfoy can't punch for the life of him

I only got a cut on my lip but Y/n yelled at me when walking back to the castle

I told her I don't really care I got kicked off but she still told me off, she's cute when she's mad

and I can't be mad at her for worrying about me, especially when she said I looked hot when beating Malfoy up

she let that slip from her mouth and hit my arm when I laughed at her

Merlin I love her, and I never want that to change, so just so you know. you are an idiot if you EVER LEAVE HER.

Fred and I are finalising our plan on leaving Hogwarts to start the shop up

Y/n knows about it, I've reassured her that we'll see each other, but I'm still worried she'll break up with me so I can focus on the shop

but right now I have to make it up to her for getting in a fight so.

April 21, 1996

she told me she wants to break up, she said it wasn't because of us, but because she wants to focus on our futures

I refused, it's the day before me and Fred leave.

I don't want to leave her, it feels like I only just got her and screw anyone who will try to take her away.

I told her I didn't want that and then it turned into a fight

she said she only wants what's best for us, but she is the best for me, and I will try to be the best for her

she left my dorm and I don't know where she went, but I want to see her, to tell her it will work.

I knew this was going to happen, but i didn't want it to.

Update- I found her and I begged her to stay with me, I told her that she should come live with me and Fred when she graduates and she didn't know what to say, she said she'll think about it

June 26, 1996

she moved in with us, she decided to stay with me and live with me, all her things are here now and she's in the bathroom right now, going through it and putting things in there, I couldn't be more happy.

I have the girl of my dreams to wake up beside me and go to sleep in my arms, forever

"George! dinner!" He heard Fred yell out before the door opened

"George..." he heard Fred sigh sadly

George felt the tears start to prickle in his eyes as he thought of you and how much he loved you

"I told her not to go...why didn't she listen?" George asked as his tears met the page from a few years prior, before the war

the same war that took you away from him

Fred walked into the room and sat next to his twin

"come on, I told you not to find this" Fred said, taking the book away.

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

it's been a while! i'm sorryyyyy

#george weasley x fem #george weasley #oliver phelps #x fem!reader #imagines #oneshot #harry potter universe #george weasley imagine #fred weasley #yule ball #harry potter imagines

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thinkwosolife23 · 11 months

Text

I'm here now, Leah Williamson

Your whole life was revolved around the world of football. Whilst you weren't a footballer yourself, your brother and wife were. You couldn't escape it. If you weren't his sister, you were her wife.

Before you got married to your wife; you were a Grealish, meaning that your brother was Jack. You and Jack were really close with each other, despite living 4 hours apart. Being so close with Jack meant that you were also really close with his girlfriend. Sasha had been in your life since you were about 12. As well as being one of your closest friends, she was like an older sister to you.

Jack was actually the one to introduce you and your wife to each other. Your wife being none other than the Lionesses Captain, Leah Williamson. Leah and you had met when you were just 18.

6 years on: you had got married just over a year ago, you had a little boy together. Jayden, who was nearly 4, you also were currently 7 months pregnant with a little girl.

Before you got married, your's and Leah's relationship was next to perfect. Despite the both of you being quite fiery characters: nothing more than little disagreements happened, you rarely said a cross word to each other.

However, since the wedding, it was a completely different story. Arguements happening way too often, that was something you never wanted your son to see or hear.

Growing up, you had seen Jack go through both the best parts and the difficulties of football. So, you understood the struggle and the benefits within Leah's Job. You had seen how much it had affected her when she tore her ACL, causing her to miss out on a World Cup.

As her wife, you wanted nothing more than to be there for her, support and comfort her.

But that didn't happen.

Ever since her injury, she became more withdrawn from your shared home. Part of you thought that she might cherish the time she had off, using it to spend time with you and Jayden. But no: if she wasn't giving a talk across the world, she was doing a book signing or an interview, or she was going out at night partying with Alex.

And tonight was just another one of them nights.

You were sat on the sofa with Jayden, listening to him babble away abou the TV show he was watching, when Leah came down the stairs: all dressed up and ready to go.

"Alex is waiting outside, i'm gonna go." Leah said as she made her way through to your shared kitchen.

You made sure that Jayden was alright on the sofa before getting up as quickly as you could. A pain shot through your stomach as you stood up; causing you to clutch onto your bump.

"Your going out again?" You asked Leah as you cautiously made your way through to the kitchen.

"Yeah, me and Alex have an event. I could've sworn that I told you." She replied, not even looking in your direction.

"God Leah, I can barely keep up with all your events. Your out all the time."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her voice raising, her eyes finally meeting yours.

"You have a family, Leah. We barely see you anymore."

"Jayden misses you, I miss you." You continued, your voice softening at the admission.

"I can't do this now, Y/N."

"You never can do this." Another pain shot through your stomach, causing you to groan out in pain before grabbing ahold of the kitchen side.

"Seriously! That's the card you pull out not. Your pathetic!" Leah's voice loud and harsh, each word cutting straight through you.

"Just leave, Leah! You'll be lucky if you have a wife and a son to come home to."

And with that, Leah stormed out of the front door. Slamming the door as she did.

By now you were fully crying. You sat down on one of your dining room chairs, resting your head in your hands.

You weren't sat there for long before you had little footsteps running towards you. Little hands trying to pull your hands from your face.

"Mama okay?" Jayden's quiet voice asked you.

"I'm okay baby." You soon re-assured him, pulling him up to sit on your lap.

"Mummy shout at you."

"Me and Mummy just had a little fallout, that's all."

"Mummy shout at me." His voice soft, appearing a little fearful.

"No! Definatly not. Mummy loves you so much, she would never shout at you, Jay."

As soon as you finished your sentence, another pain shot through your stomach causing your stomach to become rock hard. Jayden's face screwed up in confusion as you groaned out in pain.

"Mama, the floor got a puddle." He told you quietly, looking at the groand.

Fuck! This can't be happening. Not now. It's too early, surely?

"Jay, can you go get Mama's phone, its on the sofa." You said, as you placed him down on the ground.

His little legs running off towards the livingroom in a hurry. If you weren't in so much pain, then you would've laughed at the endearing sight.

He came running back to you, with your phone in hand. He gently gave you your phone before sitting on the chair next to you, watching you intently.

You quickly unlocked your phone and rang Leah's number. The call soon ran out with no answer from her.

"C'mon Leah, please just answer." You muttered quietly, before trying her number again.

No answer.

The pain you were in was becoming increasingly intense by the minute.

You quickly gave up on Leah answering the phone. So, you rang the only other person you would want in a situation like this. The only other person that could keep you calm like Leah could.

Jack and Sasha were in London, luckily for you, due to the fact that earlier in the day Man City played Arsenal at the Emirates.

"Jack?" You asked hopefully, but you could still hear the panic in your voice.

"Sis, woah! What's wrong?"

"Jack, I think i'm in labour."

"What? You can't be, it's way too early." He somehow stayed calm, despite your paniced voice. But he himself, couldn't tell you that he wasn't worried about you and his future neice.

"I'm telling you this baby is coming."

You knew that it was way too early for you to be having your little girl. Your whole body way becoming worked up, all you were doing was dreading the possibillities. Your mind jumping to the worst.

"Y/n, where's Jayden. And where's Leah!" You knew he would be angry at Leah for leaving you, especially in the state you were in.

"Jay's at home, with me. And Leah, well she's gone out with Alex. We had an arguement and she's not answering my calls."

The pain that you were now in was bringing tears to your eyes, adding more distress to your voice.

"Right, okay. Just keep calm for me, Y/N. Me and Jack have just left. We're on the way, we'll only be 10 minutes, Okay." It was now Sasha's voice at the other end of the phone.

"Sasha, it hurts so much."

"I know it does, babe. But your so strong and brave. It's all going to be alright. Your both going to be okay."

10 minutes later…

Your head shot up at the sound of the door being unlocked. Some part of you wished that it was Leah would be the one walking through the door. But you still felt so much relief when Jack and Sasha came in the door.

"Uncle Jack!" Jayden quickly jumped down off the chair, running towards Jack.

"Hi, little man." Jack soon picked him up, placing a kiss on his forehead before resting him on his hip.

"Oh Babe. C'mon, let's get you to the hospital." Sasha wrapped her arms around you, only letting go to try and find your hospital bag.

After finding your hospital bag, Sasha took Jayden from Jack so that he could help you. Jack soon came towards you, trying to help you up and get you too the car.

"Jack, i'm so scared." You told him truthfully as the tears came flooding from your face.

Your hands clutched onto his t-shire, using it to keep you on your feet.

"I know you are. But everything will be okay. You've got me and Sasha and little man over there." He re-eassured you before slowly helping to the car.

Jack got you in the backseat of the car as there was more space. Sasha sat next to you in the back, you quickly using her shoulder to rest your head on as she ran her fingers through your hair - trying to calm you down.

You didn't even notice that Jack had grabbed Jayden's carseat from your car. He placed it in the passenger seat before placing Jayden in it, making sure he was all strapped in.

It didn't take you long to get to the hospital. Jack was driving quite quickly but also making sure that he was careful to cause you any more pain.

Despite your contractions becoming stronger on the way, you tried to ring Leah again. No answer again. However, you tried to ring Alex. To your suprise, she answered.

"Y/N?" You could barely hear Alex, due to all the background noise. Also, the pain made it hard for you to concentrate.

Sasha saw this and quickly took your phone out of your hands before placing it on loud speaker so you could hear her.

"Alex, it's Sasha. Is Leah with you?" Sasha asked her.

"Yeah, she is. Is everything alright?"

"We think Y/

is in labour. We've just got to the hospital."

"Wow, okay. I'll get Leah and we'll head towards the hospital." Alex voice clearly shocked, you could tell that she was disapointed in her best friend and the way she had acted towards you.

By the time the call had finished, Jack was round by your door trying to help you get out. Sasha grabbed your bag and Jayden before following you and Jack into the hospital.

"Hi, I think my sister's in labour." He told the receptionist, whilst still holding you to make sure that you didn't fall.

"Can I have a name, please?" The receptionist was a quite polite, old woman.

"Y/N Williamson." Jack told her.

"And how many weeks are you?"

"27 weeks." You replied this time.

"Right okay, we'll get you straight into the room and a doctor will be straight through." She told you calmly. Before directing you towards your room.

Half an hour had past and you were all set up in your room, on the bed. A doctor had came to check you, telling you that you were already 9cm dialated. You contractions were way closer together than what they had been, they had put you on gas and air to try and reduce the amount of pain you were in.

Jayden was sat outside your room with Sasha, asleep in her lap. It was getting late, so he was bound to be tired. You knew that he was confused about what was going on, but he just went along with all the chaos.

Jack was sat in the room with you. Perched on the bed next to you, your hand in one of his whilst his other ran through your hair.

"Where is she, Jack?"

"She'll be here. I know you've been falling out a lot recently. And as much as I dislike her for the way she has been treating you, she would never miss the birth of her little girl." He told you, trying to re-assure you as best as you could.

What you didn't know was that Leah was currently running through into the hospital, heading straight towards the maternity section. Alex right behind her.

"My wife. She's here, she's in labour." Leah told the same receptionist.

"Your name and your wife's name, please." The old woman still polite.

"Leah Williamson. My wife, Y/N Wiliamson." Leah's fustration coming out in her voice, her own guilt causing her patience to run thin.

"Room 107. She…" The receptionist didn't even get to finish her sentence before Leah had took off, trying to find your room as quickly as she could.

Jack had left the room a minute whilst the doctors checked you over again when he saw Leah running around the corner, Alex not far behind.

"Your having a laugh, aren't you." Jack angrily questioned Leah.

"Jack, look I know I messed up and let her down but let me see her. You know I need to be with her for this." She told him, whilst quickly lowering herself to where Jayden was sat on Sasha's lap before kissing his forehead.

"You need to remeber how lucky you are that she loves you."

"I know." Her head lowered in guilt. heavily regretting how she had treated you.

"Jack. Babe, you need to let her go in. Y/N needs her." Sasha told him, grabbing ahold of his hand.

Jack didn't say anything, he just sat down in the chair next to Sasha. Before looking at Leah and glancing towards the door of your room.

Leah wasted no time in darting through the doors. Her face saddened at the state you were currently in. Your face blochy and tear-stained from how much you had been crying, your body looked so drained from the amount of pain you were in. You weren't even looking towards the door, you were just staring out the window of your room.

"Baby?" Leah said softly, as she sat on the edge of your bed, quickly grabbing your hand.

"I'm so sorry, princess. I know I messed up and I feel so bad for that. You and Jayden and this little one are my everything and I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you in my life." She continued, her voice no higher than a whisper not wanting to startle you.

"I don't like you at the minute." You told her through staggered breaths.

She slightly laughed at your outburst before quickly kissing your forehead.

"That's fair. I deserve that."

You were about to answer Leah when you felt the urge to push. The pain caused you to let out out a grunt in pain and squeeze Leah's hand.

"Baby, what's the matter." Leah questioned you worringly.

"I need to push!"

Leah quickly got up and ran out the room, telling Jack to find a midwife, before rushing back to your side.

"Same as Jayden, yeah?"

You soon nodded at Leah. She helped you lean foward slowly before quickly slipping in to sit behind you on the bed. Your back flush against her chest, as both her hands found yours.

A couple of midwife's soon came into the room, not wasting anytime in getting ready before telling to push when you felt like you needed to.

The pain of giving birth could never be explained to anyone. Your body was tired, your throat was extremely sore and you were sweating profusely.

Leah was a gem, exactly how she was when Jayden was.

"Leah I can't do this." The pain quickly becoming too much for you to handle.

"You can my beautifil girl." "Your so strong." "I'm so proud of you." "My special girl."

Leah continuously whispering praise into your ear. Trying to re-assure and calm you down in every way she could.

After nearly half an hour of pushing, you were finally making progress.

"Right, I need one more push from you, sweetheart. " One of the midwifes told you.

"Come on, Love. Our baby girl is nearly here." One of Leah's hand that was holding yours came up to push your hair from your forehead.

You managed to use any energy that you had left to give one final push, a loud groan left your mouth as you did. Leah's praises never stopped throughout.

And finally, your little girl was born. But something was wrong, you and Leah both knew that.

"Why isn't she crying?" You said breathlessly, your voice containing nothing but panic.

The midwifes didn't reply to you, simply concentrating on your daughter. You couldn't see what they were doing as many midwifes and doctors surronded the little bed that they had placed her in.

After 10 grueling minutes, a quiet cry came from your daughter. Both, you and Leah let out a huge sigh of relief. Tears streaming from both your eyes as a midwife brought your little girl over to you, carefully placing her in your arms.

She was Leah's absolute double. Big blue eyes looked up at you, a few light blonde hairs rested on her head.

"Hi, babygirl." Leah said softly from behind you. Her finger gently going in the tiny hand of your daughter.

"She's perfect." You whispered, Leah kissing the side of your forehead in agreement.

Not so long later: Alex, Jack, Sasha and Jayden were allowed into your room.

Jack came in the room with Jayden resting on his hip, Sasha and Alex following after them. All of them surronding your bed. You and Leah let them all have a look at your daughter, currently not wanting to let her from your grip. You knew how important skin to skin contact was for your newborn.

By now, Leah had come from behind you and was resting next to you on the bed. Jack soon handed Jayden to Leah, him soon taking comfort in his Mum's lap.

"I a big brother now." Jayden told you all before slowly peering at his sister currently in your arms., you all letting out a slight chuckle at him.

"You've got a very important job now, little man." Jack told him.

The three of them eventually left the room leaving time for you and Leah to have with both of your children.

You layed happy as ever on the bed with your own little family, both children fast asleep in yours and Leah's arms.\ Leah looking at you with nothing but admiration and love in her eyes.

"You know, I'd marry you all over again if I could." Leah said quietly, her words pouring out suddenly.

"You would?"

"Most definatly. This, right here, means more to me than anything else ever could. And i'm so sorry that I forgot that. You make me so happy, Y/N. it's kind of scary sometimes."

"Your so soppy sometimes, Leah." Your slightly laughed at her before resting your head on her shoulder.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Leah."

"Now, babygirl needs a name. So, what you thinking."

"I quite like the name Erin and I think it goes really nice with Jayden." You told Leah, both of you just contently looking between each other and your children.

"Erin (Your Mum's Name) Amanda Williamson. I love it, it's perfect for her."

"Can we wait a while before the next one. I think I need about 5 years to recover from today."

"My girl, we can have another whenever you want. But for now, i've got all I need right here."

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #awfc #leah williamson #lionesses #Leah Williamson #leah williamson x reader #jack grealish #alex scott #engwnt x reader #england women #engwnt #woso community

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phoward89 · 6 months

Text

Masterlist

Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Delulu!Coryo, obsession, manipulation, toxic relationship, drinking, cussing, etc

Chapter 4:

“You know, you might want to change into something more casual later- for when we go to the Hobb.” You told Coryo, who had an arm slung over your shoulders possessively while still carrying his sack over his shoulder. It had a few of his personal items in it so you didn't blame him for carrying it around instead of leaving it on your front porch.

“I will, darling.” Assured Coryo, walking with you towards the meadow. “So, how much farther to the meadow?”

“Not much.” You simply told him, spotting the vast green sprawling meadow and the large oak tree in the distance. Pointing it out, you said, “See, it's right over there.”

Gesturing to the meadow and tree up ahead, Coryo chuckled, “It's still quite a walk in this heat to get there.”

“The heat won't really start calming down for another month or so, but sometimes there's an Indian Summer.”

Having never heard of that term while living in the Capitol, he asked, “What’s that, darling?”

“An Indian Summer’s when it's unusually hot in late November, feeling like summer during late autumn.” You explained, causing the peacekeeper to nod.

“I hope District 12 doesn't get that this year.” Coryo grumbled, shuddering at the thought of breakthrough summer weather during late autumn. Ugh, he hates the climate of 12. He prefers the crispness of the Capitol; he's sure that you will too once he gets you there.

And mark his words, he's getting you there. No matter what it takes, Coriolanus is going home to the Capitol with you hanging on his arm.

“You and me both.” You told your new man, electing giggles and chuckles from the two of you. “You know, I still can't believe that I'm your girl.'' You admitted to the platinum peacekeeper when silence settled between you.

“Why not, Y/N? What's so hard to believe?” He asked, pulling you to a stop; tipping your chin up gently so that you'd look at him.

Coryo's crystal blue eyes bore into yours as you admitted, “I dunno, Coryo. I just wasn't expecting you to like me like that’s all.”

“Actually, darling, I don't like you. I love you.” Your peacekeeper confesses with a Cheshire cat grin.

He loves you? But you haven't known him for that long. And, yes, he's sweet and makes you smile- is handsome too, but you're not there yet when it comes to being in love.

“You love me?...” You trailed off in disbelief, your eyes wide as you stare up at him.

Coryo gently cups your cheeks in his hands, while confessing his undying love *cough* obsession *cough* for you. “Y/N, my sweet darling girl, I just knew it was love at first sight when we smiled at each other. That we're meant to be; I’ll show you my love and devotion every chance I get, my little dove.”

You felt a bit overwhelmed by his sudden love confession. You weren't expecting it. You know that Rein and Ashlie aren't going to be so accepting of your relationship with Coryo; that they'll flip if they hear him say that he loves you.

“You don't have to be shy, darling. You can tell me that you love me too.” Coryo sweetly smiled, tenderly swiping his thumbs along your cheekbones.

Coryo looked so hopeful, like a puppy that was excited to see their new owner, and you didn't want to ruin that by telling him you didn't know how to feel. That you weren't in love with him, yet.

Coryo was a nice guy; a good friend that went out of his way to protect you and keep you safe when you first met him. He was concerned about your safety walking alone in the district and he also had no family nearby. He seems easy to get along with.

Maybe you're just nervous because you've never had a boyfriend before?

“I've never told anyone that wasn't family I love you before, Coryo.” You confessed, hoping that would get you off the hook.

Actually, your family rarely exchanges those sentimental words. Life’s harsh in the districts, sentiments aren't viewed as important by your brother: survival is.

“I told you, Y/N, my darling, that you don't have to be shy with me when it comes to such things.” The platinum blonde boy told you, his baby blues shining brightly with obsession- although to you it seemed like adoration. He tilted his head slightly, only to ask in a too sweet tone, “You do love me, don't you, baby?”

You just couldn't say no to him. It'd crush him. Coryo seems so vulnerable right now. You couldn't be the reason that his bright cerulean eyes turned dull. So, you nod and tell him, “Yes, I love you.”

If only you knew how damning uttering those 3 little words would be.

Coryo was a bit unhinged; by telling him that you loved him back you had literally just tethered your soul to him. In this messed up, delusional, touch starved, admiration craving, power hungry, obsessive mind he truly thought that the two of you had some love at first smile bullshit. Coriolanus was desperate for somebody to love him, to be gentle, soothing, comforting, and just unconditionally kind to him, since he's never had that.

To Coryo love is to possess, to obsess, and to own somebody. He over thinks so, of course, he over ‘loves’. But, the thing is, the platinum blonde peacekeeper's so twisted that he doesn't even know what real love is, despite being shown it by his cousin, Tigris. Of course he’s sweet and soft to the object of his affection, it's only natural to be. Plus, if he was mean he wouldn't get the love he craves back, now would he?

Coryo pressed his forehead against yours, feeling like everything was right with the world since you vocalized your love for him. He knew how you felt, but hearing you say it was like heaven on earth. Oh, how he can't wait to ‘make love to you’ err fuck you nicely, to show you the depths of his feelings.

He decided that tonight, after spending some time at the Hobb, he'll have you.

“I'll show you just how much I love you tonight.” Coryo vowed before capturing your lips in a kiss.

Unknown to you and Coryo, Lucy Gray was under the tree in the far off meadow; watching what she assumed was lovers sharing secrets. Seeing Coriolanus twisting you around his finger made her heartsick. She couldn't stick around and wait for the two of you to join her under the meadow’s oak tree.

So, she slung her guitar over her back and took off towards the woods for a quick hike. The songbird was just walking to clear her head; give you and Coryo some time to defile her meadow, her safe space, before having to go to the Hobb and get ready for her show with the Covey tonight.

A show that she hopes you're not bringing Coriolanus Snow to.

“It's beautiful out here.” Coryo told you, leaning against the oak tree while you nestled between his legs with your back resting against his chest. “But not half as beautiful as you.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

The word beautiful to describe you is an understatement in Coriolanus' mindset. To him, you're the most precious thing in his life. Your kindness and friendly demeanor makes you shine like a diamond in his eyes.

He's never met anyone quite like you before. Back in the Capitol girls are very superficial and shallow. They're caked in makeup, sprayed in artificial scents, and squeezed into the latest fashions- may that be corsets, velvetene jumpsuits, silk dresses, or sky-high heels. But not you.

No.

You're genuine, bright, and vibrant in a world full of misery and falsehoods. You're a ray of sunshine in his life. You, in a way, remind him of his mother. From what little Coriolanus can remember of his mother, Demeter, he remembers how gentle and kind she was. How she always smelled of roses, how she was such a caring person; loved him unconditionally.

Yes, you remind him so much of his late mother. No wonder he loves you so much.

Looking up at the man whose arms were wrapped around your waist, you smiled, “And you're a very pretty boy.”

Coryo bent his head down and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Then, I suppose, we make quite the pair. A beautiful girl and a pretty boy.”

Sighing, you told him the harsh reality of, “Rein and Ashlie aren't going to like us being quite the pair, Coryo.”

Shaking his head, Coryo scoffed, “I don't care what they like or don't like, Y/N. You're my girl, so they need to accept that.”

“What if they never accept you?” You asked, hoping that he wouldn't make you choose between him and your family.

Little did you know that he wouldn't make you choose in that traditional sense. No, he'll make you think that he's supportive; paint your family out as the ones that can't get along with him. And when your family gives you an ultimatum, Coriolanus will be the one telling you that he's the only one that truly loves you; that'll always take care of you.

“Let's just hope that they do, darling.” Coriolanus said, taking one of your hands in his; linking your fingers together. “I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Of course you're not going anywhere, you're stuck here for 20 years.” You reminded Coryo of the conditions of his peacekeeper duties.

Coriolanus prays to gods, he doesn't even believe in, that he won't be stuck in District 12 for the next 20 years. Honestly, to him that'd be a fucking living hell. The only thing he likes about the muddy, depressing, coal district is you and the meadow. Other than that, the district could burn for all he cares.

Your house was empty when you and Coriolanus returned from the meadow. Rein and Ashlie had gone to the Hobb earlier than they needed to. Neither you nor Coryo brought it up, you both know they're avoiding him. No need to talk about it.

“I know it's not much, but this is my room.” You told Coryo, opening up your bedroom door and leading him inside.

Setting his bag down on the floor, he gave you a thin smile. “It's nice, Y/N.” His baby blues took in the simplicity of the room, only to say, “Looks like the bed might be a tight squeeze tho, darling.”

Coriolanus made a mental note to buy you a full size bed when he gets you your own apartment, closer to the barracks. And he's going to get you your own place. In fact, he'll be looking into it come Monday.

Your eyes widened. You didn't think too much of Coriolanus staying at your house for his weekend leave, but now you're realizing that he's expecting you to share a bed with him- being a couple and all. You feel like it's all very sudden; maybe too much too soon.

“I've never shared my bed with a boyfriend before, Coryo.” You admitted as the two of you went over to your bed.

Sitting down, he smugly remarked, “Of course you haven't, baby. I'm the only boyfriend you've ever had.”

The platinum blonde’s proud that you'll only know him as a lover. He honestly can't wait to claim you tonight.

And talk about tonight…

“How long do we have before we need to meet up with Rein and Ashlie at the Hobb?”

“I dunno. Few hours, maybe.” You shrugged.

“Ah.” Coryo simply nodded.

“I made a wild berry pie earlier, we could have a slice to kill some time.” You offered, figuring that Coryo might be hungry.

“I'd like that.” Coriolanus smiled. “How about you go slice us up some pie while I change into my denim fatigues, yea?” He suggested, causing you to just nod in agreement before leaving him alone in your room to change.

So, while you busied yourself with pulling the berry pie off the windowsill and slicing it, Coryo was getting changed. You'd just finished placing your plates and silverware on the wooden table whenever you heard the heavy bootsteps of your boyfriend coming from down the hall. As you grabbed the small bottle of cream, courtesy of your neighbor Tam Amber's goat, you heard Coryo enter the kitchen.

“The last time I had pie was before being sent here; my friend Sejanus' Ma gave me a slice when I was visiting their apartment.” Coryo told you, his baritone full of nostalgia, as he walked up to the table and took a seat.

“What kind of pie was it?” You asked, sitting next to him at the table.

“Blueberry; Ma Plinth put a scoop of ice cream on it too.” He answered, reaching for the bottle of cream set between your pie plates. Pouring some cream onto his pie, he said, “She sends Sej treats; he shares them with me and our squad.” Gesturing to your pie with the glass bottle in his hand, he asked, “Cream?”

Figuring that he was offering to pour some cream onto your pie, you nodded, “Yes, please.”

“Do you bake often?” He asked, pouring some cream on your pie.

“We can't afford baked goods from the Mellark bakery, so I have to bake pies for us.” You honestly told Coryo as the two of you began to eat your berry pie.

It was true, living in the Seam meant that you're so poor that it's a miracle your family has electricity. Hell, your family doesn't have hot water or a bathtub/shower in the bathroom. The bathtub's an old tin tub. You're lucky your shack house has plumbing for a toilet and a kitchen sink.

You live at the end of the line of the Seam; it's considered the poorest place in District 12. And here you are, sitting at your modest kitchen table sharing a pie you baked with a Capitol born and bred peacekeeper. You couldn't help, but start to feel a bit embarrassed at how poor you were compared to the platinum blonde boy sitting next to you.

If only you knew how Coriolanus grew up in a crumbling penthouse without a pot to piss in, eating watery cabbage soup and congealed potatoes for every meal. Then maybe you wouldn't feel so inferior.

Hearing you tell him that you can't afford to buy anything from the bakery breaks Coryo's heart. It also makes him feel for you in a way he's never felt for anyone before- ever in his life. Yes, what he feels for you is empathy.

Which is a feat in and of itself since Coriolanus Snow is not a naturally empathetic man.

“How ‘bout we go to the bakery tomorrow; I'll get you anything you want.” Coryo suggested, his tone saccharine as the corners of his mouth turned up into a slight smile.

The idea of going to the bakery to get something excited you. You've never been able to do that before because you've never had the money to. But now Coryo’s in your life and wants to treat you to something from the Mellark Bakery.

Just the thought of it puts a smile on your face.

“I’d like that.” You told Coryo before taking another bite of pie.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence while eating pie together. It felt nice, just spending time with him. If only you knew that he'd be making sure that he's the only one you ever spend any of your time with, ever again.

It was dusk whenever you and Coryo emerged from your house to go to the Hobb. He kept a protective arm wrapped around you while walking to your destination. You got a few judgemental or dismayed looks from people wandering around- mostly headed to the same place you are.

The Hobb.

“So, is the Hobb a bar or a nightclub?” Coriolanus asked as street lamps started to appear, signaling that the two of you are entering the Merchant Sector of the district.

Coriolanus knew that Lucy Gray and her Covey performed shows at the Hobb, but other than that he didn't know much about the place. He wondered if it was something like Pluribus’ nightclub. Or maybe it's smaller, more plain since it's in 12 after all.

“No.” You shook your head. “It’s an old abandoned coal warehouse that's been turned into a large black market and dance hall. In the very back there's a wooden stage made of crates that my neighbors perform on; there's also a makeshift bar that separates the market part of the Hobb from the dance hall part.”

“Lucy Gray's your neighbor?” Coryo asked, his baritone full of anger and resentment, as you walked along the cobblestone streets of the nicer part of the district. “I hope you're not friends with the little songbird.” He said very condescendingly.

“Of course I'm friendly with her. Why wouldn't I be?” You told him, only for your brows to knit curiously. Looking up at the platinum blonde, whose buzzcut brightly glows like a halo due to the streetlights, you ask, “Have you heard about her?”

“No, I had the unpleasant experience of meeting the manipulative little bird-boned girl myself in the Capitol.” Coryo spat out, as if the words were sour on his tongue. The peacekeeper wouldn't leave it be. No, instead he went on a rant of, “She's no victor, just a manipulative whore living off her charms while I'm forced to serve here. If it wasn't for me getting her out of that arena and back to her Covey, she'd be dead in a den of rainbow snakes.”

Oh no…The lightbulb went off and suddenly, you figured out that Lucy Gray batted her eyes at him and he wooed over her; causing him to cheat to ensure she became the victor. You don't have a tv, so you don't know what happened, other than Lucy Gray saying that she had to sing for her life and use her snake charming skills at the end. But now you're pretty sure that Coryo cheated; somehow got her scent aka pheromones to the snakes to make her a friendly familiar to them.

You didn't like snakes, but you knew enough about them from what you read in your apothecary book. So you know that your boyfriend had to get your neighbor’s scent into their cage or something before the snakes were dumped into the arena. Dens and pits of snakes will attack strange scents; especially when they feel endangered or threatened.

And now you know why Coryo looks at you like a puppy. He literally has no one, but his friend from home, because he was drafted into Peacekeeper service as punishment for cheating: for rigging the games for Lucy Gray's survival.

“You dropped something of hers into the snakes’ cage, to get them familiar with her pheromones.” You stated, not asked, in a whisper as you spotted the arch up ahead that marked the end of the Merchant Sector and the entrance to the warehouse and coal headquarters.

Coriolanus looked down at you, a proud, but slick smirk on his face. Your background in apothecary aided you in your aha moment about how he cheated. Of course you're smart, you're his girl. His other half. Only his girl would be intelligent enough to put the puzzle pieces together about what he did without having to see the physical evidence.

You're smarter than those fake twists back in the Capitol. Kinder and more beautiful too.

Oh, how he's blessed to have you by his side. He wonders if this is how his father felt when he met his mother? His father was gone a lot, ironically General Crassus Snow was the Commander here in 12 and refused to have his wife and son live in such squalor; would take leave to make family visits, so he doesn't remember much about him. But he does remember how his father's cold icy eyes would lighten up slightly when his mother was by his side; how his deep, stern voice would soften by a slight octave while talking to her.

Yes, the way Coryo feels about you has to be the same way his father felt about his mother. It just has to be; nobody can tell him otherwise.

Coriolanus knew that he couldn't tell you the exact truth of what happened to land him here in 12 as a Peacekeeper, but he also knew that the best lies were actually twisted half truths.

So, he spun you the half-assed truth of, “As my Academy graduation project I was assigned to be her mentor in the games. During one of our strategy meetings, she cried and I wiped her tears with my handkerchief; then when I learned the snakes would be unleashed in the arena, I placed the handkerchief in the terrarium.”

“You got caught when the cleanup crew found the hankie on the floor because it had your name or initials on it, right?” You concluded as the two of you walked under the arch; entering the area the Hobb was in.

“Yes.” Coriolanus nodded. It's just his dumb luck that he has the same initials as his late father; that he had to use his father's old handkerchiefs because, despite being talented with a needle, Tigris couldn't afford to make him shirts and handkerchiefs- the material has to be used sparingly and wisely.

“Then Dean High-as-a-kite-bottom sent me here as punishment.” Your boyfriend hatefully hissed, sounding like a snake about to strike its enemy.

You wanted to ask why he called his dean what he did, but you never got the chance.

Turning to you with disapproval blazing in his baby blues, he ordered, “I don't want you hanging around Lucy Gray or the Covey anymore. She's no good, Y/N.”

“But, Coryo-” You started to object, only to be roughly cut off by Coryo's bitter snap of, “A girl like her, a lying, manipulative whore that sings on live Capitol TV about living off her charms; whoring herself out, while her ex runs off with the Mayor's daughter, isn't somebody I want my girl to be around.”

Dragging you towards the warehouse people were flocking to, Coriolanus seethed in a sickeningly sweet baritone, “If I say you can't talk to somebody then you better listen cause I love you; just wanna keep you safe.”

Not wanting to ruin the night, which was meant to be a good time dancing with Coryo at the Hobb, you nod and squeak out, “Okay.”

Coriolanus feels that the Hobb's a crowded, dirty, dingy, smoke infested, shithole of a dive bar. Hell, calling it a bar's a bit much since the place’s a warehouse turned into a bar with dancing and live music- courtesy of Lucy Gray and the Covey. Being in a tin building meant that the clanking of boots on the wooden dance floor loudly echoed into the air, bouncing around in the platinum blonde peacekeeper's head like a pinball.

He didn't like it one bit. He'd rather be back home in the Capitol at a proper nightclub. Oh, he makes a mental note to take you to a posh nightclub when he takes you back to the Capitol with him- when the time comes. And hopefully it comes soon because he doesn't know how much longer he can handle living out in the districts like some filthy scumbag peasant.

The excited smile on your face makes him crack a smile. Despite the Hobb being a shithole, being out with him made you happy. You're proud to be seen with him, so he decides to stop getting lost in his head and just enjoy the night with you.

A night that's going to be full of drinking, dancing, and fucking.

The fucking will be after he takes you home, but he's sure that you'll enjoy that too.

As he guides you down some rickety steps that are so rusted he's afraid they'll buckle under his weight let alone yours, in order to get to the main dance floor of the Hobb, Lucy Gray spots you. She nearly fumbles her song at the sight of Coriolanus’ large hand in yours, your fingers laced together, as he leads you downstairs to the dance floor. The look in his eyes unnerves her. His crystal blue eyes seem dark, sinister almost, with an unchecked emotion.

One that Lucy Gray's only seen gleaming in not so nice men.

She continues to sing, watching as Coriolanus spots somebody seated at the tables against the wall. Her worried brown eyes follow you as Coriolanus leads you over to where a big-boned young man with a dark buzzcut and a baby face was sitting. His fellow peacekeeper rose from the table, only to clasped Coriolanus on the shoulder before giving you a friendly hug. The small he gave you and Coriolanus was warm and genuine.

Lucy Gray just hopes that Coriolanus' friend can keep you safe from the cold blooded snake. Because any young man that can lead on a girl, who's afraid to die, and convince her that he cares so she'll stay alive to win him a prize is a man that'll do and say anything to get what he wants.

You're her neighbor and friend; she'd hate for something to happen to you because of Coriolanus.

“Thank you, thank you, everyone!” Maude Ivory called out to the crowd as soon as her cousin finished her song. “This next song, well, you all know it; it's a good’un to do some two-steppin’ dancing, to.” The blonde tween cheerfully announced, stomping her feet. “So, 12, let's have a good ol' time tonight! Let's have it for Lucy Gray Baird and the Covey!” Maude Ivory shouted, causing the rest of the members of the Covey to appear on stage with their instruments in hand.

“Sej, can you get us some drinks? I'm gonna dance with my girl.” Coryo told his friend, who reminded you of a big teddy bear, before dragging you off to the dance floor.

Sejanus didn't even get a chance to blink let alone give his best friend an answer. But, seeing him spinning you around on that dance floor with a look of love in his usually hard eyes and a bona fide smile on his face made it hard for Sejanus to be annoyed with his friend. Without giving it a second thought, he left the table to go grab some jars of moonshine for you and Coryo.

Leaning against the bar was your brother, Rein. He was nursing his umpteenth jar of shine for the day while Ashlie, his girlfriend, worked the bar. He spotted you on the dance floor with Coryo, smiling and giggling as he spun you around with his fancy Capitol moves. Showing off like some big fucking hot shot.

Rein just shook his head and tipped back his jar. He wasn't drunk enough to watch you fall victim to some peacekeeper's affections and advances.

But you know what they say:

Like mother, like daughter.

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emepe · 15 days

Text

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: The first 48 hours are crucial when a person goes missing. Eren can only pray it’s enough to reach you..

— Content warnings: emetophobia, mention of assault.

— Notes: Helloooo!!! Welcome to TV Friday number 12 <3 I thought about posting earlier but I thought best to keep up our little tradition ^^ Please read the notes at the end for extra notes about TV’s future. Don’t be shy to stop by my ask box <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

Forty-eight hours

Hour One

A missed call shouldn't have been enough to raise an alarm, but his gut instantly told him something was wrong. And yet he tried his best to remain calm — stepped out onto the street and made his way to the bus stop where you should've been dropped off, glancing into convenience stores just in case, hopeful that the bus was just running a little late. But when the bus you would've taken showed up — allowing Eren some time to sigh in relief and shake his head at his own presumptions — and you were nowhere to be found among the few people to scatter onto the sidewalk, it only confirmed that previous gut feeling.

Hour Two

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

There's a stiffness to Eren's breathing that makes the process more painful than its intended effects — his lungs feel too big for his ribs, which seem to be pressing them against his heart, pushing his brain into hyperactivity to keep him from imploding.

Where does he even start? Where should he even go?

If there's a proper protocol to follow to find you, he's no idea of it and he's strangely aware that his anxiety might lead him in the wrong direction when there's so much he has to do — so many places he has to be — at once. It's infuriatingly difficult to not have a cool head when you really need it.

He didn't think to bring his car — perhaps it's for the best, considering his vision continues to blur and it's not a sign of good condition to hear your own frantic heartbeat pounding in your ears.

His eyes anxiously scan the faces of every person in his path. Paired with his dazed footing and the sick expression on his face revived every couple of minutes from the nausea stemming from some sort of sensed doom that he continuously swats away, there hasn't been a shortage of odd looks and aversions since he ventured into the dark streets in hopes to find you fine and well out of thin air.

It's been too long to dismiss as a casualty since his calls stopped going through, and yet he insists on redialing your number each time he's met with the automated message that only further fuels his dreadful symptoms, hopeful that your voice will reach his ears again, for that comforting sound to put an end to the infernal crescendo of his insides.

Just as he's about to redial once more, his phone starts buzzing first, and for a split second his body is at peace and his heart soothed in the spare moment that it takes for him to accept the call and bring the phone to his ear.

“Have you heard from her yet?”

The voice on the other end causes his stomach to plummet to his feet for what feels like the tenth time tonight.

It takes a moment for his brain to assimilate that it's not you on the other end and another for him to hate himself for not checking who was calling and stupidly spit a response to an Armin who has no fault in anything, especially for not being you.

Armin, as understanding as ever and assuming the more collected role for Eren's sake, dismisses the frustrated tone in his friend's voice, fully aware it's nothing personal.

“The security guard says she left a little over an hour ago and Mika called me a minute ago and said she hasn't been home. Are you sure she wasn't going to make any stops on the way?”

“No, Armin, she would've told me. She would've come here first or she would've at least texted me.” Eren's voice cracks. “Something is wrong.”

The weakness in Eren's voice is enough to fracture Armin's composure for a fraction of a second.

“Let's go to Levi.”

Hour Three

Being in the police station feels more reassuring than Eren would've imagined. At least this means he's doing something — and something right, at that — and the drive over spared him enough time to ease his nerves, even just a little, as he continued to repeat inwardly to himself that everything is going to be fine.

Time is everything and frankly, he can't help but feel a bit dumb for not thinking about getting some help from Levi in the first place. He'll find out what's going on — if there was an accident, if you got mugged and that's why no calls go through, or even if your bus broke down and that's why he hasn't seen you when he should have by now. Even if it turns out to be a misunderstanding, better to cause a scene than to sit on his hands. Though three hours without any sign to say otherwise can't be a misunderstanding.

Eren hunches over, resting his forehead on the edge of Levi's desk, not minding one bit as it digs a dent into his skin. His knee bounces every couple of minutes as he and Armin wait for Levi to get back to them.

“Eren Jaeger?”

He looks up to find a tall blond man instead of Levi.

“Yes?”

“I'm Captain Erwin Smith. Come this way please.”

Eren stands to follow the man's lead, only sparing a nervous glance to Armin, who replies with a comforting one from his seat, only morphing into a more accurate depiction of his worry once Eren turns his back to him.

“Where's Levi?”

Eren's eyes wander the barren space he's been led into. Nothing but a table and a pair of chairs set opposite of each other.

“He'll be here in a moment. I just want to ask you some more questions about the missing person's report you're filing.”

“Of course.”

Doing his best to hold in his exasperation at the ticking clock in his head, he dutifully replies to every question he's already answered for Levi when he first walked into the station — what made him come to the station, his relation to you, your description, what happened before he lost contact with you, amongst other basic things to paint a picture of the situation.

“Was there ever any trouble in your relationship?” Erwin asks.

Eren's brow furrows.

“What do you mean?”

“I'm asking if there was any indication that your girlfriend,” he makes a vague motion with his hands as he reads your name from the folder in his hands, “might’ve been upset with the relationship. Did you ever argue or have any trouble? Perhaps something in the past few days? Or ever?”

Eren hardens his jaw in an attempt to remain calm. He knew he'd have to spend a while at the station, answering questions more than once — as frustrating as the lengthy process could be, he expected that much.

Erwin's tone has remained neutral for the entirety of the questioning, and it's only natural to want to rule out any immediate suspects, but it doesn't make the implication of the captain's words any less offensive and borderline cruel.

“No,” Eren chokes out, horrified by the mere idea that either of you would walk away without warning. That isn't you.

“So no reason for her to break off contact with you.”

“She didn't break off contact,” Eren spits, growing heavily frustrated at the sudden turn of events. “We were supposed to meet, she was on her way already. I saw her just this morning and she called me first to tell me she was coming home.”

“Maybe she only said that to throw you off?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Just tell me what you might think,” Erwin replies, voice stern. “You say it's only been three hours since you last heard from her but she's a mentally stable, healthy adult. Unless she has any conditions that could put herself or others in danger, chances are she's safe and sound somewhere and this is all a misunderstanding. Was there anything suspicious or weird about her?”

Eren's shake of his head grows more and more frustrated as Erwin does little to conceal his skepticism, which only shapes as a misunderstanding from Eren's increasingly impatient point of view.

“What's suspicious and weird is that she never made it to our date at all and it's been three hours and I haven't gotten a single word from her.”

Eren's expression is one of pleading, yet Erwin's remains neutral and made of marble.

“And it's not like that,” Eren murmurs. “I was going to ask her to live with me tonight. She called me after she left work to tell me she was on her way.” Eren can feel his heartbeat start to pick up as his ribcage begins to close in on his lungs once more as more anxious words continue to spill from his mouth in increasing pace and volume. “She told me she had news and that she loves me. Why would she tell me that if anything was wrong? Why would she say that if she wasn't going to make it to our date?” The crack in his voice comes at the same time as the stinging sensation behind his eyes and the uncomfortable tickle in his nose. “I was making dinner for us. I had this whole thing planned. I wanted to surprise her with all her favorite food and the pictures from the new apartment. I wasn't going to tell her about the pink bathtub because I want it to be a surprise when we move in. She…” He curls against the table, hands gripping his hair in frustration, pulling at the strands to make sure he still feels something because there are just too many sensations overwhelming him as he tries to get through to the man in front of him. “She really wants a pink bathtub.”

Eren doesn't lift his gaze, just remains quiet and unmoving until he catches a flicker of movement in front of him. It's only when he takes the tissue offered by Erwin that he becomes aware of the tears streaming down his face.

Levi nearly had a heart attack when he first caught eye of Eren's and Armin's familiar faces walking into the police station. The frantic green eyes and anxious expressions made it clear something awful had happened and hot flashes of searing dread burned inside his stomach. That is until nobody pronounced his niece's name. After that, the flame of pain withered to ashes of guilt, consuming him from the inside in such a manner that it was hard to face his niece's friends knowing he'd felt relief it wasn't his family who'd been affected tonight.

Levi's known Eren since he was a kid — a bit childish and whiny, but ultimately a decent man with a kind heart. It's been a pleasure watching him grow up and knowing he's remained a good friend to his niece.

Levi's only met you once. It was at Jean and Mikasa's engagement party earlier this year. If Jean and Mikasa were the happiest couple there, you and Eren were a close second. It was easy to know just how much he adored you, and how attached you were to him. Eren was rarely in a dark place, but next to you his smile was blinding.

After finding out Erwin conducted the interrogation to rule out a possible runaway case — and how he did it — he still hadn't ridden himself of enough guilt to apologize for making the situation more stressful, no matter what the rules say.

It's no secret some sudden disappearances hold more danger than others. An abducted child, an older person with dementia, a mentally and emotionally unstable person who's looking to cause harm to others or themselves — they demand a higher sense of urgency than logging the missing person into the system and following up when there's nothing more pressing on the police's plate.

The desperation consuming Eren's features when Levi finally walks into the interrogation room is enough to kick off his own instincts.

It's upon Levi's insistence that patrols are dispatched immediately.

Hour Five

When a loved one's safety is on the line, any efforts from authorities never seem to be enough and yet one remains oddly hopeful that the people with a proper protocol should know how to better handle situations that leave one frantic and lost.

Calls to the nearest hospitals, pings from cellphone towers, two patrols dispatched to the last known location and its surroundings, questions to potential witnesses who have nothing to report or are rather too invested to go back to whatever keeps their attention inside to provide some detailed tips, one patrol leaving because of a nearby break-in and the remaining one left with nothing more to go off of than one grainy clip of CCTV footage that shows your figure walking down the street, and a second clip from a convenience store's outside surveillance camera where you don't show up at all, but the lack of witnesses lead to nothing in between.

Keeping up the search when there's been nothing gained starts proving to be more difficult when obstacles continue to pile on. Aside from the growing boredom of those in police cars from the lack of fresh information to keep them motivated, the heavy clouds that hover over everyone's head threatens for the case to soon be abandoned for the night.

Hour Eight

Levi is hesitant to leave. But with no leads — no CCTV footage, no unknown numbers blinking on Eren's screen, no mother, an estranged father, no sign of a struggle at the last known location, and so much yet so little more — there isn't much he has to do than drive back with the pair of worried men to the station for more questioning in case of foul play, while constantly eyeing his notifications for any incoming messages on an assault victim found in an alley not too far away from where your phone was last still on.

Eren refuses to leave. Despite Levi's efforts to persuade him that going back to the station was necessary, knowing he was so close to where you'd last been was enough for Eren to stand his ground. Getting into Levi's car means going back miles worth of steps. It means straying from what feels so much like the right path already. And as ridiculous and futile as it is with no leads, it means losing his grip on something much more solid.

How easy it would be if a last known location means he can find you just by looking behind a tree or having someone point and say “yes, she's right there”.

So when Levi makes another plea for Eren to come back with him — he doesn't mention what for to not stir any more nerves — and Eren says no while steering himself down the block for what feels like his hundredth recon of the area — just in case you really were behind that tree in the small playground all along, playing a nasty prank on him — Levi chooses to go back to all the nearby twenty-four hour convenience stores one last time before the downpour begins.

Armin gives Levi a grateful nod before lightly jogging to catch up with Eren, who's already turning onto the next street.

“You can go,” Eren calls over his shoulder after catching a glimpse of his friend's blond hair beside him. “I'll keep looking by myself. Besides, it's gonna rain soon. You'll get wet.”

“What about you?” Armin looks down at his friend's bare arms. “You don't even have a jacket.”

Eren looks down at his sides, like he just noticed his lack of a coat. He could've sworn he had one on him when he walked out his apartment. You would've been upset with him otherwise, that small pout forming on your lips while your brows are weighed down with disappointment.

The instant of amusement he feels is quickly consumed by the ache of why he's out on the street with no jacket to begin with.

The food must be cold by now. He'll have to heat it all up once you're back home.

Light raindrops brush against his skin with a small gust of wind.

You're still not behind the tree.

It's nearly half past two in the morning. Any civilians with useful information have been asleep for hours, and any passers-by would've reported anything had they seen it, Armin thinks.

It's chilling to walk down streets so quiet and empty, with the only reminder that this isn't an alternate universe being the sparse cars that drive by. Surely the people inside might find it strange to see the pair walking up and down the streets, turning, looking, flashing their phones to make out shapes in the dark.

The tickle of rain on skin is no longer, but the temperature continues to drop.

Armin takes on one side of the street while Eren tackles the other. He receives a polite nod from the security guard of a small daycare center, who fails to conceal his look of pity. Levi interviewed him around an hour ago, so he has to know what's going on.

Armin averts his gaze, his cheeks burning at the thought of some stranger pitying him and his friend when everything is going to be just fine.

The rain starts up again. Eren isn't around anymore. With one quick scan of the street, Armin spots him rounding the corner to the next street — pace firm but anxious. He's quick to follow.

By the time Armin catches up, the raindrops have grown in size, a reliable sign that this time, it's for real.

“Eren,” Armin calls him carefully.

Eren continues walking, flashing a light behind a dumpster in a narrow alley between a family restaurant and a bookstore.

“Eren,” Armin calls him a bit more firmly to get his attention, but to no avail.

With brows knit more in desperation than concern, Armin quickens his pace and pulls Eren by the shoulder just before he rounds the corner to the next street.

“Eren!”

“What?”

The anger and volume in Eren's voice shrinks Armin in his place for a brief moment.

Embarrassed by his own reaction, Eren exhales an apology. But his face hardens once more when Armin suggests it's time to go home.

Armin steps back, surprised to have caught a swear word from his best friend among the words he spits back in a negative response.

But when Eren turns, ready to resume his search, Armin pulls at him again.

“Eren, stop!” he half-yells, quickly readjusting his volume before speaking again to not cause any disturbances to sleeping strangers.

“You don't want to pick a fight with me Armin, I'm warning you,” Eren's voice grows low, but still reaches Armin with the same anger and menace.

Eren harshly pulls away and continues to storm down the next street, leaving Armin to stumble behind.

The rain is heavy enough now to spot the pavement faster than it takes for each drop to dry.

“We need to go back, we aren't going to find her like this,” Armin calls after him. His hands do little to shield himself from the rain. Thankfully, Armin thought to bring a jacket along but it won't do much for either of them when it's bound to be sopping wet in just a few minutes.

Eren's shirt is already clinging to his skin in large patches down his back, and yet he continues walking with purpose down the street.

Armin's shivering now under his jacket as he looks around to gather his surroundings. This street isn't far from the office. It's poorly lit which, paired with the rain, is best explored in daylight. There's a single street lamp that's meant to illuminate the area at night, but it's been broken for months and either nobody has reported it, or laziness has kept it from being repaired.

“Come on,” Armin insists, lightly jogging now and losing his breath under the cold shower as he tries to keep up with Eren, who still refuses to listen. “We'll come back in the morning! You need to get some rest if you're going to keep looking! I'll come with you, okay? But we need to go!”

Armin suddenly crashes into Eren's chest as the latter abruptly turns around in a sudden fit of pure rage.

“I already told you I'm not fucking leaving!”

Armin stumbles back, teeth chattering, muscles drooping from his wet clothes and vision blurred by the heavy rain.

“You can leave if you want to! That's what the fucking police is doing! Just go already! But I'm staying because I care! I don't give a fuck about the rain, I'm going to find her!”

Eren's words pierce through Armin's chest, and the next moment he's tackling Eren to the ground. It's not so much to stop him from leaving this time, but out of indignation.

Eren falls on his ass with a wet thud, his palms painfully pounding onto the pavement as Armin falls on top of him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in his hands.

“You think I don't care? Why do you think I'm here, you idiot?” Armin yells in Eren's face. Had the pouring rain not been a factor, he would've been red in the face. But had the rain not been there, Eren also would've easily seen the tears streaming down Armin's face, and that would've taken away from his blue glare.

“She's my best friend! I'm just as worried about her as you are! You can't decide you're the only one affected by this! That only makes you a jerk and you're not!”

Eren is tense all over as he holds Armin's surprisingly threatening glare. His chest heaves as a twinge of guilt surges inside of him at his friend's pointed remarks. The stiff breathing makes its return.

“But we have to go,” Armin's voice softens — it cracks and begs.

And Eren breaks down in sobs. His scraped palms come to his face, aggressively digging the heels against his eyes as if to force his tears back in while his shoulders tremble in cold, grief and guilt.

“You don't understand!” he cries, his shirt still crumpled under Armin's grip. “I fucked up, Armin. This is all my fault!”

Unsure of how to react to this abrupt change in attitude, Armin remains frozen save for his teeth, which continue to chatter under the deafening rain.

“I was supposed to pick her up. I'm never late,” Eren hiccups. “But I didn't come today and now I don't know where she is! It was me, Armin! I did this! This is my fault!”

“Eren,” Armin murmurs gently, eyebrows upturned in sympathy as he finally softens his hold on his friend.

“I can't find her and I don't know if she's hurt or scared or if…,” Eren's words drown in another wave of sore sobs, his lips refusing to let the thought of the worst to escape as a spoken word — to think that someone might have caused you harm and that's what's kept you tonight.

“I need her to be okay,” he whimpers finally, lips trembling as his body begins to react to the harsh cold surrounding him. “Where is she, Armin?”

It takes a while for Armin to gather his thoughts and catch up to the workings of Eren's mind from this hellish night.

He often leaves the office with you, stays behind some evenings when he notices you're close to wrapping up your work and can ride the elevator together. Sometimes even accepts Eren's offer for a ride when he's too tired to deal with the overwhelming setting of public transportation — tired enough to not mind third-wheeling for a short while. If the last place your phone was turned on was before you even had a chance to take a bus, surely he could've done something to prevent this mess too. Why didn't he think to stay behind today, too?

“It's not your fault,” Armin finally says, his voice just barely audible amidst the rain and thunder. He blinks up from the ground to his friend. “And we don't know what happened. We'll try the hospitals again later, we'll keep calling her in the meantime. We have Levi helping us, right?”

Eren blinks back at him, slowly gathering that Armin is trying to encourage him through reassurances, and finally nods in response as he does his best to ignore the tight lump in his throat.

“It's like three in the morning, Eren. I'm not asking you to stop. But we can't keep going like this.” He motions vaguely toward the incessant rain from above and the wet clothes sticking to their skin.

Armin stands, relieving Eren from his weight as he pushes back his hair with one hand and offers the other to his friend whose reluctance casts a shadow over his usually bright features.

Eren trains his gaze on the ground, leaving Armin's helping hand hanging for the while longer it takes for him to convince himself that Armin is right and this doesn't mean he's failing you.

Finally, Eren accepts his friend's hand, who hoists him up just as they both spot Levi's car pulling into the street from the farthest corner.

Armin motions for Eren to follow him toward the car, to which he responds with a weak nod. But just a couple of steps in, something crunches and gets caught under his shoe. Naturally, he looks down, forgetting the deluge falling over him at the moment to frown at the foreign object.

Armin glances over his shoulder, sensing his absence, and turns around fully when he realizes Eren is kneeling on the ground, cautiously picking something from the ground that ultimately dangles from his fingers once it's fully suspended in the air.

Armin retraces his steps, kneeling next to his friend to find his face pallid, and green eyes wide with fear as he stares at the broken chain between his fingers, from which hangs an angel cast in silver with a broken wing.

His features contort in horrified realization. It's almost ridiculous to turn to Eren for confirmation of what he already knows and can already begin to imagine. But when he does, the latter is already hunched over in the opposite direction, emptying his stomach onto the wet pavement while the nearing lights from Levi's car come to blind him.

Hour Fifteen

Mikasa, Jean, and Sasha step into the elevator wordlessly, the only sounds on the way to Eren's floor being the inevitable rustles from the plastic bags with food in Mikasa's hands.

Jean offered to take them, but Mikasa insisted she'd hold onto them. Maybe it's because of her cold hands, but it might also be because she needs something to help keep her grounded — literally; she feels as though she might float away otherwise. Because if anyone were to ask her, nothing has felt real since last night after Armin's call.

The elevator’s hum ceases as it comes to a gentle stop and the doors slide open.

The same somber silence continues to hover between the trio as they mechanically walk down the hall to Eren's door. Jean takes out his copy of the key from his jeans pocket and pushes the door wide open, gesturing for the girls to enter first before quietly closing the door behind them.

Spare keys aren't rare between them. It was chain reaction that stemmed from Eren's father's passing. Everyone wanted to make sure he was okay. The rest is history.

“In case of emergency.”

“Can you please water my plants while I'm gone?”

“Can you check something for me?”

“I'm really sick, just let yourself in.”

“Just keep it.”

Jean's copy has rarely been used. In fact, not many of them have made use of Eren's key once he started dating. Not that it's been a dramatic change, but now there's not much need to be wary of barging in on something they'll all laugh about later. And today, after Eren passed out on the street in the rain, it seems crucial to brush the dust off an old habit for their friend's sake.

The trio is careful not to make any excess noise — Eren might still be sleeping —, but the further they venture into the apartment, they realize their efforts are in vain.

They expected Eren to be lying on the sofa where Jean and Armin had so carefully helped him settle down, still fast asleep considering it's only been a few hours since. Although Eren's sudden nausea was a mere reaction to finding the necklace, Armin still spent a couple more hours watching over him as a precaution while he cleaned up the kitchen and dining area, and quietly left for his apartment to make another round of calls before work.

They're met with the view of their friend bustling around his work area in a corner of the living room, his brow furrowed and eyes laser focused as he refills the ink tanks on his printer. Stacks of missing person's posters cover his desk with a handful of faded ones having been scattered and crumpled on the floor as evidence of the ink shortage he's tending to. Your face occupies nearly the entirety of his immediate view, which is why a single glance is enough to distract him from his task that he doesn't notice his friends present in his apartment, nor when the ink begins to leak.

At the instinctive curse word that leaves him in a frustrated huff, Jean rushes over to help him.

“I'll handle this,” he assures Eren, who only blinks in surprise as he realizes he's not alone.

Mikasa and Sasha walk over to him unsure of whether a hug is appropriate as a greeting. In the end, they choose to speak the words instead.

Sasha leaves the conversation in exchange for helping Jean clean up the spilled ink. An irregular blob-shaped stain is left behind on the ash gray wood.

“Are you– How's your stomach?” Mikasa asks.

An uneasy grimace makes its way onto Eren's face.

“It's fine. It was just… Yeah.” He shrugs it off, unsure of how to properly explain the incident without triggering more discomfort.

Mikasa nods in understanding.

“Armin said you're going back to the police station later.”

Eren huffs at a humorless puff of air from his nose.

“Yeah. More questioning,” Eren replies, his head continuously shaking in disbelief, to which Mikasa frowns.

“What's wrong?”

It takes Eren a couple of tries to let the words out, his mouth opening and closing with hesitancy.

“They all left, Mika,” he softly murmurs, a hint of helplessness infecting his fragile voice, that births an ache in Mikasa's chest. “Nobody could say anything and they got bored. What kind of excuse is that?”

Mikasa drops her gaze to her shoes, submitting before the hurt and impotence Eren's words awake in her.

Then she shakes her head briefly, recalling a good thing.

“Levi's on the case… and there's evidence for foul play now, there's a lead,” she says, trying her hardest to appear more hopeful at each thing on her list. “He'll find her, Eren. This'll just be nothing but a bad memory soon.”

She smiles, but it comes out sad from the red that tints her waterline.

Eren doesn't have the energy to try to appear cheerful from her encouragement, and limits himself to a nod.

“Eren, how long have you been up?” Sasha asks with concern from his desk, where her eyes scan over his computer screen and the stacks of paper with your face printed front and center.

“A few hours?” Eren replies with a shrug, to which everyone else exchanges concerned glances.

Jean breaks the silence with a loud clap, refusing to make way for any awkwardness in the air.

“We brought you some food, buddy. Come on, let's eat.”

Sasha eagerly nods, her enthusiasm a bit too stiff it almost seems rehearsed, as she encourages him to follow them to the dining table.

Eren allows himself to be tugged along for a couple of steps before he tethers himself to his spot for a moment and then decidedly takes a step back under everyone's puzzled expressions.

“I'm not really hungry,” he murmurs, shaking his head.

“Are you sure?” Mikasa gently asks.

“We got your favorite soup,” Jean smiles, though Eren is too busy staring at a blank point to notice. “Minestrone.”

“Extra parmesan,” Sasha adds.

“It's fine.” Eren assures them with a forced smile. “You guys eat. I have a lot of things to do.”

“Well, you can't do them on an empty stomach. Let's eat and then we'll go through your to-do list together,” Jean insists.

“Yeah,” Mikasa agrees, shooting a grateful smile to her fiancé. “Jean can drive you to the station after breakfast and Sasha and I can handle the rest.”

Every offer is sensible and comforting, but Eren still refuses. He can't eat, not when you still haven't come home.

“No…” his voice trembles ever so slightly as his eyes wander around the room, as if looking for an excuse. He ultimately makes his way back to his desk, where the stacks of posters await him. “I'll just head out now. I'm gonna hand some of these out before going to the station.”

The rejected trio exchange another round of anxious, meaningful looks. Mikasa's the first to break away from the group to join Eren in gathering a stack of flyers and a roll of tape from the black metal organizer on his desk.

As her hands roam around the surface of the ash gray wood, the jewel on her finger catches the sunlight peeking through the curtains.

Eren's movements grow slow as his focus is stolen by the silver engagement ring.

Mikasa notices the pause in his movements from the corner of her eye, and looks up at him to assess his status. Eren tears his gaze from her ring — embarrassed —, but not fast enough for it to go unnoticed, nor does he remember to ease his hardened jaw afterwards. He moves in silence and sets a fast pace toward the door, leaving an anguished Mikasa to trail at his heel.

Hour Twenty

It takes a handful of hours for Eren to get back home from the station, with a significant reduction to the baggage he left with. The stream of questions would've been fairly simple had he not been charged with so many uneasy feelings as to why he was doing all of it in the first place. It certainly didn't help that he had to face the same people who had simply left this morning. But he has to do things right — even if it means swallowing his anger to contribute with any useful information.

Social media presence, daily routines, bus routes, habits, friends, family situation.

Saying you know someone like the back of your hand is an odd saying, he thinks. He's not that vain to spend lengthy periods of time observing himself. In his case, it suffices to say he simply knows you — all he's done is look at you.

He knows your hands quite well. The shape of your fingers, the curves of your knuckles and the warmth of your palms when they latch onto his heartbeat and manipulate it to your will. And now what's been left since last night is a painful cavity. It's all wrong. Your hand should be here, filling his void.

The apartment is empty, Jean and Sasha long gone. The plastic bags have been folded into neat triangles and the counter has been cleared. Upon opening the fridge, Eren finds stacks of containers that have been added to those Armin helped put away the previous night from the uncelebrated dinner.

He stares at his packed fridge for a long time, any energy to step away vanishing into thin air and leaving him stuck in place, looking straight ahead until he no longer recognizes the shape of anything inside, and he grows numb at the cold air that slowly envelops him.

A ring from his pocket is what finally pulls him out of his daze and he's quick to whip the device out and accept the incoming call with pure urgency and no thought.

“I'm only assuming you've been too excited to call me to tell me how it went last night,” Carla's playfully accusing tone comes through the speaker.

“Mom,” Eren pronounces in a voice so soft, yet empty as he only acknowledges it's her, but any word that bounces off his tongue is devoid of meaning until he can speak the name he wants to.

“So,” Carla's enthusiastic grin is evident through the phone. “Was she thrilled? What did she say?”

Eren's voice fails him.

In all the anxiety and chaos, with all the things he's had to do within the last twenty hours, he completely forgot to tell his mother what had happened and that moment is catching up to him now.

His lips roll inwards, a habit reserved for when he's feeling shy because of things you say or do, and now has come back because of his lack of words — or rather the will to expel them.

His hand comes up to his hair, his fingers brushing his hair back as he struggles to find his voice.

It's only when Eren takes a second too long to reply that a shift in mood can be sensed from Carla's end of the line.

“Eren,” she calls him carefully, which only makes the lump in his throat grow. “Honey, what's wrong?”

“Mom,” is all Eren can muster, voice cracking as he pushes the word out.

“Did you have a fight? Is everything okay?” Carla's concern amplifies through the speaker, as something rustles in the background, a sign that she's taken on a more alert position.

“You didn't break up, did you?”

Out of all the things that could've gone wrong last night, Eren wishes that had been it. At least he wouldn't be as helpless. At least he'd know where you are. At least it's something he could reverse.

“No.”

The word comes out choked, his throat instantly sore for the second time.

His monosyllabic replies must be getting to her, because Carla takes a deep breath before trying again.

“Eren, honey. You have to speak clearly, okay?” Carla's voice grows gentle, as it always has whenever Eren would have trouble speaking his mind. Granted, that's been lost as he got older, but Carla's sweet attention hasn't. “What happened?”

Her patient voice finally manages to coax the lodged words from Eren's throat.

“I don't know where she is. She's missing.”

Hour Twenty-four

Rain is bad for detective work. Eren heard about it in a documentary or a podcast, or maybe he read it somewhere — he can't remember. But it supposedly washes away any evidence, making easy cases tricky and difficult cases nearly impossible. Considering the silver angel necklace was found in the midst of the sky falling, it comes as no surprise when he comes home from a casual meet up with Levi at a nearby coffee shop with the news that no DNA or signs of a struggle were found on site after a thorough search in the light of day. The other half of the broken angel wing was found stuck on the edge of a sewer grate, though. Eren would feel any comfort at all if it meant it would lead to something. But at least the necklace can be fixed for when he finds you and this is all over.

The necklace is pretty much a dead end, but it'll remain under the police's hold just in case.

Eren has never gone so long without seeing your face. Now that the clock has found its way back to the hour you were supposed to walk through his door, it's unbearable to know that you won't. And still he looks over in its direction every few minutes, expecting you to burst in and throw yourself into his embrace, marking the end to a day-long fever dream.

That's probably it. A dream. No, a nightmare. It's nothing but a wicked play of his subconscious — to teach him a lesson on appreciating you more. Maybe to scare him into doing a better job of protecting you. Maybe he's gotten too lax, too careless. After all, the city hasn't been terrorized by any violent crimes in the last few months. But that's no excuse to dismiss the possibility of danger. Right… There was a killer last year. Two murders. No suspects. No arrests. And there was a burglary just last night. So what if…

No.

Eren pulls at his hair, agitated by where his mind is leading him. He pulls hard on the strands, like they're the reins of his thoughts that he needs to redirect onto a less horrifying path.

His phone dings as if on cue with a text message.

I'll be there soon, honey. Get some rest, I'll call you tomorrow. I love you.

A tap on the attached file opens up a copy of a plane ticket for the day after tomorrow under the name Carla Jaeger.

His heart feels a tad lighter.

It'll help to have his mother around for a few days. He types his gratitude into his phone and presses send.

He lets his face fall into his hands as he hunches over his desk.

Everything will be okay, he repeats to himself in his head like a mantra.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Everything will be okay.

Outside, rain starts to fall.

Hour Thirty

The rain has been on and off for hours.

By the time Eren reconnected with his surroundings, ready to go out and look for clues on his own around the area, the rain was nearly as heavy as it was at three in the morning.

He sits by the living room window, watching the downpour. His phone is charging on a wooden stool next to him, taking a break from another round of calls to nearby hospitals to ask for any patients bearing your name. Still no.

His stomach has been growling for a while, but any energy he possesses isn't the kind that'll get him off his chair and into the kitchen — it's the kind that's meant to be used to stare out the window and grow numb over any trivial needs.

It's fine, he thinks. It'll pass.

Hour Thirty-seven

All five of his friends come through the door a little past seven in the morning, with bags of fresh meals to share.

Eren sits down this time, allowing Mikasa to fix him a plate and Connie to pour him a glass of juice.

Nobody mentions the dark circles under his eyes, and Eren's gaze is too lost on a blank point to sense the meaningful glances exchanged all around him.

There's not much room for conversation. Any sense of normalcy is lost in the thick air. It seems equally wrong to create a lighthearted break for the length of a meal as it is to talk about the empty seat across from Eren when everyone is trying so hard to make sure he's at the very least feeding himself.

Eren merely pokes and stirs at his food with his fork the entire time. There's a fresh stack of flyers on his desk that demand more urgency in his eyes than sitting down to eat.

His demeanor is easy to read by everyone at the table, yet another round of concerned glances and subtle nods in his direction being tossed around with silent messages.

In the end, nobody says a thing and the groups is broken off in pairs to tackle the surrounding neighborhoods.

Hour Forty-five

Nobody has called. Not him or the station. As the only person outside of the police to be contacted for any updates, his phone should've rung at least once. But aside from yesterday's encounter with Levi and his visits to the station to see if his presence alone will bring something up, there's been a drought in leads. And despite his determination in making sure every person he passes knows anything, there's still nothing.

It's been hours since his stomach has demanded his attention. It's finally reached the point where it's so empty, it's gone numb. His body is running on nothing more than sheer will and water.

He should at least try to eat, test if he can hold any food down.

The fridge remains packed with food, even more now thanks to what's been gathered from his morning visits.

Ever so slowly, with overly cautious movements, he takes out a container, transports it to the counter and peels off the lid. It's from the dinner you were supposed to share two nights ago.

His lips tremble, eyebrows upturning for the split second it takes him to grasp back at his composure. An outsider would think he's glaring at his leftovers, disgusted at whatever is inside, completely misunderstanding the mental ordeal he's traversing as he takes several deep breaths.

He pulls out a stool from the breakfast bar, sits down and stares.

Hour Forty-eight

It's been two whole days since Eren has stepped foot in his own bedroom.

His feet drag him toward the bed without stopping to flip the light switch. Though the night is cloudy, signaling another shower for tonight, the moonlight still finds its way into the room just enough for his eyes to take in the most basic shapes of his furniture.

He comes to a stop at the foot of the bed, and his gaze zeroes in on the neatly folded white cotton fabric set on the corner. It's the shirt you slept in two nights ago, the one that's the wrong size because it's his and he likes his clothes to be just a bit baggy.

It's the shirt he gently tugged off your body to feel your skin pressed against his. The one that you take care in folding even if you're in a rush and even though he'll throw it in the wash anyway.

His fingers slowly reach out to collect the fabric.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

It still smells like you. Just barely — a mere scrap of notes that have faded over the last two days. A mix of vanilla, citrus and a faint trace of eucalyptus fabric softener.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Breathe, Eren.

It doesn't work. The air is too thick. It gets caught in his throat and forces a choked sob on its way back out.

His face contorts in anguish as he falls onto the bed, curled up in an attempt to make himself as small as humanly possible, with your shirt clutched in his hands as the world outside darkens and he simply weeps.

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Notes: Tunnel Vision will continue, just not with the same schedule it had before my hiatus. I’ll be adding word count and progress updates in the chapter guide in case you want to keep up with the story in that way (It’ll also give you an estimate of when the next chapter will be posted. I have ideas for some ficlets, which I’ll do my best to post in between TV updates just so I don’t leave you all hanging with Eren content. It’ll depend a lot on whether I see any enthusiasm for it or not though (aka comments and reblogs that aren’t… well… empty). In the meantime, thank you for the support and feel free to slip into my ask box to chat :)

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