#i remember the day very vividly. down to the time. the place.

[obsessedwithtlk]

𝟛𝟘 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕘 🦁💛

The Lion King has been my favourite movie for as long as I can remember.

I don't recall the very first time I watched The Lion King because I was still chilling in the womb 30 years ago and I was just one month old when it came out on VHS but Disney movies were constantly playing in our house thanks to my siblings.

However, every time I hear the opening score, I'm instantly transported back to being four years old, sitting on the floor of our blue-themed living room, watching The Lion King. I vividly remember the moment when the mother and baby giraffe step into the sun.

Nostalgia is powerful!! The Circle of Life, with its expressive music, serves as a strong trigger for my childhood memories.

Honestly, I struggle to get through the intro without shedding a tear. a reminder of how formative experiences and powerful storytelling can impact our emotions throughout our lives and we're only 4 minutes in! Yet those 4 minutes feature some of the most beautiful and well-crafted animation and storytelling ever, in my opinion.

The story of Simba resonated with me deeply. I was particularly drawn to Simba’s journey of self-discovery and the lessons he learned about bravery, grief, and responsibility. I admired Mufasa's wisdom and strength, and I found Timon and Pumbaa's carefree attitude both funny and comforting.

The Lion King was probably one of my first major hyperfixations.

When I was around 8-10 years old, my nighttime routine involved watching The Lion King and Simba's Pride before bed every night, always remembering to rewind the VHS ready for the next day.

It was around this time, I first gained access to the Internet. One of the first things I searched for was The Lion King. I discovered lionking.org and its fanart sister site, realising that many others also loved this movie just as much as me.

I was too young to really communicate with anyone at the time, but I admired from afar, which made me feel less alone. When I discovered Tumblr many years later you bet I created my own Lion King fan page which is still up to this day for archiving and memory purposes.

If not for The Lion King, I wouldn't have made some lifelong international connections and friendships.

Whenever I felt down, lonely, anxious, or afraid, The Lion King was there to support me.

The Lion King taught me many lessons about life and death, the importance of facing one’s past.

This movie didn’t just entertain me; it also shaped me.

Most people see The Lion King as just a cartoon for kids, I view it as a work of art, showcasing the beauty of animation, music, and storytelling. Beyond the visuals, the story behind its creation is a testament to the power of passion, dedication, and hard work.

Initially, many at Disney underestimated the film, doubting its potential. Many top animators chose to work on Pocahontas, believing it would be superior. The Lion King was crafted by junior animators who believed in the project, and despite the, it became a beloved classic.

It remains a timeless movie that I will always cherish, not just for its beautiful animation and music, but for the profound impact it has had on my life.

The Lion King taught me that it's okay for things to change and to grow older. It showed me that ignoring your past will only hurt you in the long run and that it's better to address and learn from it rather than pretend it didn't happen.

Ultimately , The Lion King is about finding one's place in the world, something I'm still working on.

It's been an absolute pleasure to grow up alongside this beautiful movie.

[livinginshambles]

I thought you'd be different | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: A cinderella story (maybe a little romeo and juliet while we're at it) but Hogwarts - Enemies-ish to lovers. You find an enchanted parchment through wich you anonymously talk to a stranger (James). When you meet him at the Yule ball, he is not who you expected, but you give him a chance. When you realise that was clearly a mistake, you flee cinderella style.

Probably part one of two again.

Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Discrimination issues, themes of bullying. Regulus is our friend. James is an idiot, but we knew that already. Sirius sucks.

Masterlist. Part two. Part three

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

You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory. That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you close your eyes.

“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what your sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.

“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.

But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.

You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments. A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.

“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard. “Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”

“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eye roll, but seemed unphased.

“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step. “10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you pettily decided.

“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” With a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.

When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.

You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.

James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner. He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air.

James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl, crying on a bench under the tree appeared.

James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams. Credits to Professor McGonagall, who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.

It’s beautiful.

You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.

Thank you, I’ve been dreaming about this for the past two days.

You frowned at yourself, unsure why you would disclose such information, but figured no one would be able to trace this back to you anyway.

James blinked at the response he got, mouth open in surprise. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. It must simply be a spell of some sort after all. He stared at the sad drawing and the sentence, and then he made up his mind, writing back.

It must be lonely for that girl to cry by herself under the weeping willow.

Your eyes followed the words that formed in a trance.

If she ever feels lonely again, she can always pour her heart out on this parchment. I’ll be the mighty guardian wizard that will make all her worries magically disappear.

A grateful smile made its way up your face and when you scribbled back a response, James couldn’t help but smile as well.

Maybe she will.

You doodled a wizard sitting on the bench next to the crying girl, a consoling hand stretched out.

That's how you became James’ best kept secret. He learned that you were indeed a student at Hogwarts, but that you felt lonely. That you enjoyed butterbeer, but never got to enjoy it on a Hogsmeade outing with friends, because you rarely had any. He learned that you felt inferior to your siblings and a disappointment to your parents. He noticed how you would draw a circle as the dot on your ‘i’ and learned, when he asked, that you did that because you had once seen Professor McGonagall do that when you were in your first year, and had practiced mimicking her handwriting, should it ever come in handy.

In return, he had told you that he felt pressured by the reputation that he had to maintain. He loved Quidditch and absolutely despised Ancient Runes, to which you had replied, “who doesn’t?”. He told you that he had illegally learned to become an Animagus, a stag, and that he wasn’t sure yet what the future would hold for him. He even revealed to you that he desperately wants to protect his friends and sometimes had nightmares, which usually resulted in a sneak around the castle at midnight. When you had asked him if he’d ever been caught, he responded with, “never”, and had explained to you that he had an invisibility cloak.

Two months passed and before you knew it, you were explaining Transfiguration through the enchanted parchment. You did conclude from this that your pen pal was most likely in a year or two higher than yourself but decided not to comment on it. James on the other hand, was under the assumption that you must be from his year, as you managed to help him study for his exams.

But now, it was almost 12 o’clock midnight, and James chewed his lip while he looked at the parchment. He hesitated for a moment. Then he decided to ask you the one question he had been yearning to know the answer to.

Who are you?

You looked at the paper sadly, and sighed.

You’d be disappointed.

I understand if you don’t want to reveal yourself. But know that I could never be disappointed by you, Willow.

James sighed when you didn’t answer anymore. He waved away the light that emitted from the tip of his wand and took his glasses off. He went to put the parchment under his pillow as usual, when he saw the scribbling movement that he’d gotten so accustomed to.

He scrambled to grab his wand to shed light on the paper but accidentally nudged them off the nightstand and onto the floor, where it rolled under his bed. James’ eyes flickered back to the paper in his hand, and he managed to catch the first letter of your name as it was written in capital letters.

But your cursive handwriting, the dark and lack of glasses made it impossible to read the rest of your name. When he finally reached his wand and put on his glasses, he heard the clock strike twelve and he cursed as he grasped the parchment tightly, hurried ‘lumos’ and saw that the parchment had reset itself to a blank page again, just as every night at 12 o’clock at midnight.

Wait, please! I didn’t catch it before it erased itself. Please write it again?

You let out a sigh in relief after you had internally bashed your head against a wall.

No, it was stupid of me. I’m glad you didn’t see it.

You leaned back into your armchair with a racing heart. You couldn’t believe you had done that.

“Regulus,” you acknowledged as you pulled the chair back to sit next to him in the library. “Y/N,” Regulus quietly responded without looking up from his book, and if you didn’t know any better, his straight face would indicate annoyance. Luckily, you did know better.

“You smile any brighter, the sorting hat will transfer you to Hufflepuff, you know,” you teased him.

His face distorted in a grimace and without missing a beat, he replied, “do kill me before such a thing occurs.” You shook your head and finally sat down. Then you pursed your lips in thought.

“You know how I’ve been working all summer to earn galleons?”

“No.”

“Well I did.”

“So it seems.”

“Anyway, I rented a small flat,” you blurted out. Regulus finally looked up at you, surprise almost evident on his face. Then again, you didn’t have the most amazing home situation either. You often opted to stay behind at Hogwarts for the holidays. It is how you two had befriended each other, especially ever since Sirius left him to his own devices at home. Parents, it was a trauma bonding thing.

“Congratulations,” he nodded, his voice trailed off as he tried to see how this would concern him.

“So I thought you might want to stay with me over the Christmas holidays? Your mother doesn’t hate me, so I thought it might be possible. Gives you a chance to get out once in a while.” You tentatively brought up the sensitive subject.

“And what makes you think living with you will be any more bearable than living in my own mansion?” Regulus snarkily remarked.

You squinted your eyes at him in a scowl. “A simple ‘no’ would suffice don’t you think?”

“Do I have to pay rent?”

“Depends on whether or not the answer impacts your decision.”

“So not then.”

You huffed.

“Fine, I suppose I could join you in your small flat.”

“Merlin, don’t go doing me any favors Reg, I wouldn’t want to owe you.”

Regulus shook his head in amusement.

Satisfied with your rather successful attempt to invite him over, you got up. The chair you sat on screeched loudly as it was being pushed back. You could feel the librarian’s furious eyes on your back and rolled your eyes at her as you made your way to the door. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” you waved your hand in the air and exited the room.

You made it approximately two steps when you spotted your sisters again. “Of course you would cause a disturbance in the library,” Marla spat at you. You raised your eyebrows but remained unimpressed.

“I see you’ve got your buddies to back you up now?” you commented and tilted your chin slightly upwards. Your eyes flickered to your other sister, their closest friends, and the marauders.

For a moment, you considered walking away, but there was just something about that twitching lip of your sister that had you irked.

You stepped forward, narrowing the gap between you and your sister. You leaned in slightly and then, “Boo.”

It took your other sister, Alyssa about one second to have her wand pulled out and pointed at your throat.

James watched the interaction with a small frown on his face. He didn’t really speak with the fellow Gryffindor twins, but their friends and Lily were friends, so the marauders had joined them on their way towards the courtyard.

His mind flickered to a conversation he had had with ‘Willow’ about her sisters, and he wondered if you felt the same sadness and inferiority as his pen pal. And with that in mind, he pulled Alyssa back by her robe with one harm, the other lowering her raised wand.

“Let’s not,” he shrugged, when she raised her brows in question at him.

“She clearly threatened my sister,” Alyssa defended.

You scoffed at that. “I said ‘boo’. That’s hardly a threat,” you rolled your eyes and glanced at James who tried to offer you something that resembled a smile.

Was he mocking you? “Fancy yourself a hero, don’t you, Potter.”

“Hey, I was just trying to help,” he raised his hands in defense.

“Cause you’re such a good soul,” you sarcastically remarked.

“Yeah, actually. At least better than you. That hostility is so uncalled for,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, and you shot him a glare. “Right, better than me. Let me ask the two-dozen tormented Slytherin students you’ve bullied this past year. Bet Snape will buy your self-proclaimed ‘kindness’.”

You were already walking away when Sirius opened his mouth to call something out to you, but James kicked his shins in attempt to shut him up. Your words resonated in his mind.

Maybe he was a twat.

Am I a twat?

What the bloody hell are you on about?

Someone called me a twat today. Now that wasn’t necessarily true, but the implications were there.

Did you deserve it?

Sort of.

Sort of?

I mean, I am only an asshole to people who are assholes themselves and deserve it. But I guess that makes me an asshole too.

You hesitated for a moment and decided to write your opinion on the matter.

Maybe you being an asshole to people makes them assholes. And then it becomes a vicious circle. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that bogger.

You reckon?

Wouldn’t have written it down if I didn’t.

On a brighter note, do you have a date for the Yule ball after the exams?

If you’re asking me out, I already promised my friend that we’d go together.

Oh right. But would you save me a dance? Maybe at midnight under the main crystal chandelier?

James bit his lip again in suspense. The Yule ball is a masked ball anyways, if you don’t want to reveal yourself.

Midnight, main crystal chandelier. You decided to leave it at that. Besides. You could enchant the mask a little extra, so you’d be even more unrecognizable. You wondered who would be behind the kind words of the parchment.

It felt strange to you. Really looking forward to something to the point you could feel jitters in your stomach in anticipation. But it was having a certain effect on you that even the younger Black couldn’t help but miss.

Regulus squinted his eyes and moved his jaw in thought. When he had had enough, he pulled you aside.

“Out with it.”

You deflated. You knew that he knew what he was talking about, so you shrugged. “Someone asked me to save a dance next week,” you mumbled.

“And you want to?” Regulus’ tone shifted to an incredulous one.

“I found an enchanted parchment in the room of requirements and it’s connected. I’ve been using it to have conversations with a mystery person.”

It felt great to be able to share this with your friend and you leaned against the wall behind you. “So yeah.” You finished the confession with an awkward hand gesture.

Regulus took a moment to register what you said. And then, as if it was the most normal thing ever, he responded with, “I see. And you have no idea who?”

You let yourself slide down the wall and tiredly put your head on your propped up knees. “Probably a Gryffindor.”

Regulus started laughing. You snapped your head up and scowled at him, not that he was used to anything else from you.

“As long as it’s not a mudbl-“

You kicked his legs and made him lose his balance. You shot him a warning glance. “You know my opinion on that.”

Regulus sighed. You had once confided in him about your home situation, including that time when you had overheard your parents argue when you came home for the first time after having been sorted into Slytherin. Your father had addressed the matter as soon as you walked through the door.

“You’re no daughter of mine.” He had said with disapproval in his voice. It wasn’t meant as a figurative insult. It was a statement. Your father believed that you could simply not biologically be his daughter. The words had you avert your eyes to the floor in shame.

“My entire bloodline has been sorted into Gryffindor.” He had looked at your mother. “Your family does have Slytherins. She’s most likely the result of your affair with that muggle a decade ago. It is possible.” And just like that, he had practically disowned you.

“Okay,” Regulus relented. “We’ll see who it is next week.”

James was nervously looking around, standing partnerless in the middle of the dancefloor. He had long forgone the mask that he had chosen because it prevented him from using his glasses. He looked at the great clock just above the table with drinks and pulled a hand through his hair.

It was time, so where were you? Hopefully you hadn’t chickened out yet because he was absolutely dying to meet you.

There was just something about you. It sparked something in him that he hadn’t felt since Lily. He’d look forward to your messages all the time. Every morning, he practically jumped up in anticipation and excitement as he reached under his pillow to read your ‘good morning’ message for the day. A smile would pass his lips each time.

James was ripped from his thoughts when a hand was placed on his shoulder blade. It tapped twice. He stopped breathing for a moment before turning around. And then the breath was knocked out of both of you completely.

For two different reasons.

James stared in awe at you. You wore a white and silver dress, covered in diamonds. A delicate white mask covered the upper part of your face, and he stared intently at your eyes, but somehow, he still couldn’t pinpoint who you were.

He could see all of your features clearly, but as if he was in a dream, he somehow couldn’t piece everything together to identify you. A charm, he realized. He was disappointed but shook it off. If you felt insecure, then he wouldn’t push it.

James’ face broke out in a grin, and he stepped forward. He couldn’t help but reach out to your face. But you took a step back. His hand fell and he frowned at your reaction, suddenly scared. He wasn’t wearing a mask after all. Compared to you, he was completely vulnerable.

Before he could say anything, you cut him to it. “No,” you hoarsely managed. “This was a mistake.” You turned around and escaped from the center of the dancefloor. James chased you.

“Wait, please. I’m sorry!” He called out after you.

You slowed your pace when you reached the corner next to the staircase. Then you shook your head with a sight, and you pinched your nose. James could see your furrowed brows.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. But my intention wasn’t to dance with James Potter. It was a mistake. Sorry for wasting your time.”

James shook his head in his turn. “Don’t say that,” his eyes pleaded. “So you know who I am. Am I..” He hesitated. “Am I that bad? I don’t know if you’ve heard any rumors about me, or what made you have a bad impression of me, but I’m the one you’ve been talking to for the past months.” He looked at you desperately. “Give me a chance, please. I only ask for a dance.”

Your eyes flickered over his sad face. You knew James from all the pranks that he did, mostly committed towards your house. You knew him from the banters you had with him, and from crying students that you undid hexes for. You knew him from pushing him out of the way as he purposely blocked your path to throw insults at you.

But you also knew the boy from the enchanted paper. The one who listened to all your worries. Who offered advice and indulged into your hopes and dreams for the future. You knew the boy who confided in you all his deepest secrets and own insecurities. Who made your day and cheered you up with his jokes and positivity.

“I can give you a dance,” you caved, and you offered him your hand, which he scrambled to hold.

James was a fairly decent dance partner, you soon discovered as he guided you with grace. “So I suppose you dance often?”

“I just practiced a lot,” he sheepishly admitted. “I had to impress you somehow, you know. Someone like you had to be crazy out of my league after all.”

Your lips twitched. “I think you’ve got it all backwards, Potter.”

“You know you can call me James, right?”

“Well, James,” you enunciated his name. It felt weird on your tongue. You had only ever spoken his last name in contempt. “I’m not very liked by more than half the students of this castle.” You motioned towards your mask. “Hence the enchantment,” you added halfheartedly.

“You don’t have to tell me who you are,” James immediately assured you, and you did relax at his words. “I’m just really happy that you’re real.”

You let out a laugh. “Why would I not be real?”

“I don’t know,” James whined. “Maybe I was just talking to really sentient paper or something?”

His answer only made you laugh more. James’ grin only spread wider.

“Whoever you are, I wouldn’t judge you,” James added quietly. You watched him silently as you swayed around the room.

“That’d be a first,” you joked sadly, remembering your own family.

“What can I say, I’m just different,” James cheekily winked and then twirled you around.

“We’ll see about that, James. You have the rest of the night to convince me.”

The dance ended and you curtsied to each other, out of breath. “But you’ll have to excuse me while I go find a bench because my feet are killing me. These heels are no joke,” you groaned in pain and sort of started to limp your way back.

James quickly came to support you and held your waist as he escorted you back to the side of the room. When you discovered that there were not in fact any benches, you sat down on the first few steps of the staircase. He raised his eyebrows when you kicked off your heels and saw that the entire slipper was made of glass.

“I transfigured those shoes myself, you know,” you proudly stated. James looked at it in disbelief. “This can carry a human weight?”

“Yeah, it took a lot of different enchantments and attempts,” you admitted.

James’ disbelief changed to awe. He took a seat next to you and you two started chatting about random things. You looked at James’ profile as he talked about Quidditch and felt soft towards him. Maybe he really wasn’t so bad after all.

The two of you were deep into a conversation when you were interrupted .

“Who is this, Prongs?” Sirius curiously stepped forward and shook your hand. You couldn’t help but grimace at him.

You politely nodded and explained the situation, but even though you engaged into a civil, nonchalant conversation, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the presence of James’ friends.

“Anyways,” Sirius leans in towards James. “Did you see Snape over there?” He nodded his head towards Snape, and you squinted your eyes at the boy in front of you.

“You’re not thinking of doing anything to him, are you,” you sharply asked. Both James and Sirius were taken aback by your new tone.

“Nothing harmful,” Sirius laughed, but it faded when you simply raised your eyebrows at him. Sirius looked towards James for help. James hesitated. He had been reluctant to indulge Sirius’ ideas ever since his conversation with you about being a twat. But Sirius was his friend.

“We’re just having a bit of fun,” James tried to explain. “We’re just joking around, besides, he’s in Slytherin, so definitely a blood supremacist.” Your face fell at his words.

You watched his features contort in disgust and suddenly you were eleven again, and all you could see was your sisters disgusted face.

By the time you had snapped out of it, Sirius was already making his way towards Snape. James had gotten up and his head flickered between you and his friend.

You got up as well.

“I really thought you’d be different, James.” You scoffed to yourself. “You really had me convinced there for a moment. But I understand that you’re really just a bully after all, blinded by prejudice. You really are a twat.”

James’ heart dropped at hearing you say those words. He felt ashamed and shook his head pleadingly as he searched for words. But the thing is, you couldn’t care less, because you were hurt too. So you turned around and fled up the stairs as fast as you could, just in case he would come after you.

“Hey Prongs, you coming or not?” Sirius called out. James looked back at Sirius as he contemplated his next move. He mouthed ‘no’, and then tried to run after you. But by the time he reached the hallway that you had disappeared to, you were nowhere in sight.

In denial, James ran towards the moving staircases and looked up, in hopes to find you there.

Had he looked down, maybe he would have caught the last shimmer of reflection of the diamonds on your dress.

James refused to give up, however and he started to knock on the paintings, hoping that they could tell him where you went. He just had to apologize.

A symphony of protests and yelling echoed within the hall. “Quiet you!” “Have you no respect for the sleeping?” “I will complain to Filch about this, young man!” “Leave us alone!”

When the voices resided, most portraits were empty, their contents having escaped elsewhere.

Defeated, James groaned and hit his head with his fists. “You stupid git!” he yelled out in frustration at himself. James slouched down to sit on the stairs. Then he reached for the parchment and a pen in the inner pocket of his jacket and started scrambling something down.

“Please answer,” he whispered. He almost had to laugh at how pathetic he must look.

You sat on your bed after having made your way to the Slytherin dorms.

I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I said that. I’m stupid and I ruined everything. Please let me make it up to you. I enjoy being with you, I don’t want you to think of me like this.

 Like I said before, this was clearly a mistake.

James read your words over and over again and he buried his face in his hands in shame. He stayed there for a long while and by the time he returned to the room, the party was over, and people had started returning to bed. On the left side of the staircase were your enchanted glass slippers precisely where you’d kicked the off and left them.

Preview of part two

Part two

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[ghostfacd]

I’M A JEALOUS, JEALOUS, JEALOUS, BOY. | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. after gaining massive popularity, you star another show where you have to kiss your co star, which tom isn’t exactly happy about

AUTHOR NOTE. Two posts in one day? Who am I??anyway! This was self indulging because I love Steven Conklin and nobody writes for him 😔 As always, reblogs and comments make me more motivated to continue this series :)

installment of this au | the reader plays fictional character “ella fisher” in tsitp!

Tom wasn’t a jealous guy, at least, he didn’t think so. He was very secure in your relationship, always making sure he didn’t let his emotions get the best of him.

Like when you told him you had gotten the role of Conrad and Jeremiah Fisher’s sister in The Summer I Turned Pretty, and how you were Steven Conklin’s love interest, he congratulated you with a big hug.

He knew who was playing Steven—Sean Kaufman. There was no doubt that Steven was a very charming guy.

“You’re here!” You say giddily, engulfing your boyfriend in a hug when he approached you. “Daisy was just patching up the last of my concealer. Did you get any food?”

Daisy was your makeup artist—and one of the sweetest girls you’ve ever met in your life. She knew the cast pretty well, so when you first got here, she helped break the ice between you and them.

“You know I did,” Tom says, placing the paper bag down on your table. He opened it up, retrieving an iced matcha latte and a poke bowl. You squealed in delight, excited to eat after filming for so long.

“So how was your day?” You say, cheekily grinning at him as you ate your bowl.

“Tiring? I did a photo shoot, it was fun. Then I went home and took a nap, and then I drove to buy you food.”

“Well thank you babe,” you say. “Today was such an exhausting day, so much retakes cause of all the sand. But God do I love this show to death. It’s so much all at once but in a good way, you know?”

“Well I’m just excited to see my girl on the big screen,” Tom smiles, leaning in to give you a kiss on your forehead.

“YN! Time to film again!” The voice of your director calls out, making you shove your bowl into Tom’s hands and rushing over to the cameramen.

Tom carefully places your bowl down, walking over quietly behind the cameras to watch your scene up close.

He watches as you talk to Lola, who plays Belly, about your plans after high school, and how you wanted to apply for Princeton just like Steven. She rolls her eyes, saying how she doesn’t get how you and Steven get along so well.

Later in the scene, you and Sean sit close together in front of a campfire. Tom remembers vividly of you telling him there was a scene between your character and Steven where the two of you would get extremely close. Tom feels his breath hitch when he sees Sean make you laugh. He knows that it’s just acting—that your character and Sean’s character are love interests in the show, and that it means nothing in real life.

But he just feels so weird. His stomach is in knots, and it feels like his mouth is dry.

“You know,” Sean begins, leaning in close to your face. “I know Belly doesn’t want me liking any of her friends, and your brothers would totally kill me if they knew; but you’re making it so hard.”

“Really Steven?” You fake giggle, leaning closer to his touch. “Well they don’t have to know.”

Sean laughs at your comment, his head falling against your shoulder, something that Tom had always done with you.

And then he sees the director cue the cameramen to zoom in, and then there it is. — You and Sean kiss, and Tom feels his feet move away from the scene without even realizing.

“And… cut!” The director says, clapping. “Good job Sean and Y/N! You really captured the tension between Steven and Ella. That’s a wrap!”

You hug Sean afterwards, the two of you laughing about how stupid the kiss must’ve looked but you knew the viewers would eat it up once the episodes aired.

“Where’s that boyfriend of yours?” Gavin asks, suddenly showing up behind you and Sean.

“Gavin!” You say, putting your hand to your chest. “Way to scare a girl to death!”

Gavin laughs, poking at your sides teasingly. “Just kidding, I know where he is. Stormed off where Lola and Christopher are standing.”

“Storm off?” You say, confused.

“Seems like lover boy wasn’t too keen on you kissing our Sean over here.”

You quickly make your way towards where Lola and Christopher were standing, and just like Gavin had said, Tom was standing behind them. He didn’t look too happy.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, pulling the boy away for some privacy.

“It’s nothing.”

“Oh c’mon,” you scoff. “It can’t be nothing. Gavin said you stormed off earlier.”

Tom sighs, clearly wanting to drop the topic. But one look into your genuine concerned eyes makes him crack.

“I was jealous.” He admits, biting his lip back in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

You bite back a smile, arms linking with his. “Awe babe, it’s okay. Just acting. Just like how you kissed Rachel in the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah,” Tom sighs, bringing your body close to his. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have felt that way.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, smiling brightly. “Feeling jealous is bound to happen with our job, as long as we communicate about it, everything will be fine.” You hug his side, snuggling your face into his coat. “Plus, you know Sean has a girlfriend, right?”

“What?” Tom seems baffled, but he quickly covers it up. “No, yeah, I knew that.”

“Uh huh,” you tease, “don’t worry Tom, I love you the most.”

He leans down, making eye contact with you. “Well I sure hope so, because I love you the most as well.”

And everything was perfect until Gavin lets out a fake barf, telling the two of you to “get a room”.

“Oh get out of here Gav!” You say, shooing him away.

“Yeah Gavin, let the couple have their moment!”

That makes everyone laugh, and you swore you never felt happier than you did right now.

[cinnabeat]

oh my god i just rememebered the insane dream i had last night

[cordeliawhohung]

Core, what about a bit of competition with ps! Gaz? Some new girl who think's she's already the darling of the studio takes a liking to Gaz, but finds out about his ties with reader.

The one time she gets to film with Gaz, she overplays her role and absolutely covers his neck, collar, shoulder, everything with hickeys, hoping it will deter the reader.

So imagine her shock when the next day, she pops into his dressing room and finds the reader in there as well, applying foundation over the marks and littered with dozens from Gaz himself. ❤️

(I realize how dumb this sounds as an ask but it's been rotting my brain for days and I desperately need it gone so I can focus on my college classes 😭)

thanks this has also been rotting my brain because i just love putting people in their place (: more ps!gaz here <3

The crux of your ass sits in perfect place on Kyle's thighs while your legs straddle the expanse of his hips. Warm hands rest on your waist as you manhandle his jaw, tilting his head side to side to get better access to his neck. Thick, round hickeys litter the delicate skin around his throat and down to his shoulders in angry, red pinpoint marks that break the beautiful and even tone of his skin with something revolting. They look like proper bruises rather than the after effects of a... wild video shoot. As if someone had tried to strangle him rather than make love to him.

You remember the video well, along with that new model with her fake blonde hair and even faker tan that they had paired Kyle with to shoot the other day. You had only seen her in person one time, and you vividly recall the way her blue eyes rolled over your body, assessing every inch of you before ultimately deciding you were worth very little time. Confidence was a must when you worked in the porn industry, but her attitude borders on an arrogance you haven't seen since your teenage years in public school.

As you apply yellow color corrector onto the dark marks on his skin, you nearly shiver as the images of her stained lips suckling on Kyle's neck flood your mind. There was little room to feel jealousy about her ravaging your favorite co-star when you were too busy cringing. So childish. Over zealous. You nearly cried tears of laughter when you noticed Kyle's expression, grimacing at the wet tongue and annoying teeth that nipped at him, yet still having to pretend to enjoy it. Even the comments on the video joked about it.

Put him back with the other model.

"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought someone tried to strangle you," you tease.

"She might as well have," Kyle sighs. He adjusts his shoulders against the back of the chair, bare pecs flexing with the movement, bringing your attention to the uncovered marks that line his collarbone. "Haven't been able to go out in public without a goddamn turtleneck 'cause of her."

You chuckle as you finish applying and buffing out the rest of the color corrector along his skin. It leaves him looking sickly and discolored, which oddly enough is an improvement to what it looked like before. Setting the corrector to the side, you grab foundation next, hips swaying as you attempt to get some movement in your aching knees. Holding that position for so long without moving had them burning with fatigue.

"Need a break, doll?" Kyle prompts, hands sliding from your waist to your thighs.

"Don't know if we have time for a break. Got a lot of ground to cover before we start," you humor.

Kyle sits forward, throwing you off balance, yet he doesn't let you sway very far before his arms wrap around you, hands supporting your back. Adoring eyes crease as a grin floods his face. Even without the aid of studio lights he glows like a god as he leans closer and places a kiss on your neck.

"Show can't start without us," he says, teeth grazing your skin as he wanders down to your collarbone. "Could always give you a few hickeys to match, if you want."

He doesn't wait for you to answer before his tongue glides across your clavicles just for his teeth to follow right after. A chuckle rumbles in his chest at the tightening of your legs around his hips, and his hands only pull you closer. It doesn't take much for you to give in. Head rolling back, muscles melting as his lips conquer everything you're willing to give him. It's a delicate softness mixed with a brutal bite, something that leaves you gasping as he pulls the very air from your lungs and feeds on the sounds.

Kyle is more starved for you than usual. Sick of the fake, over dramatic screeching he got last week with that other model, he's hungry for the real thing. Hungry for you.

The unopened foundation falls free from your loose fingers and rolls along the floor into some forgotten corner when his hands wander underneath your shirt. It's a dance he has memorized; unclasping your bra without a second thought and tearing both it and your shirt off in a single, swift motion. He gives you little time to recover before his mouth is on your tits, kissing a sparse trail until he's rolling a perky nipple between his lips.

His bare skin feels like heaven underneath the palm of your hands as you grip his shoulders for stability. He'd take you on the cold, dressing room floors, you knew he would. A part of you wanted him to. Fuck the shoot, they should've learned well enough to put cameras in the dressing rooms by that point with how handsy Kyle Garrick always was with you.

"Can't wait until we get on set to try and undo me?" you ask breathlessly.

"Doll, I'll undo you right here and then again on set if you asked me to," he mumbles into your skin.

A quiet squeak interrupts your moment and the ambiance of the room shifts when the door to Kyle's dressing room opens. His hands grow stiff against your spine as you look over your shoulder at the figure in the doorway. You smell her perfume before you recognize her. Something drowning and floral, like a mall department store. It burns your nose, yet you're too distracted by the slack-mouth surprise etched onto the features of the new blood's face.

It's cute; her confusion. How her eyes flicker over your bare back and Kyle's hands pressed against your skin like he's cradling the only thing he cares for in the world. The dots just can't quite connect in her mind as to why he hasn't completely fallen for her yet, as if the only way she knows how to lure men is by butchering their neck with discolored marks. She can't comprehend why he'd rather have you in his lap than her.

Kyle draws a shocked groan from you when his teeth nip at your shoulder, and your eyes have no choice but to fall away from the woman in the doorway as he pulls you closer to him. His chin gently rests on your shoulder as he stares at the model, hands moving to rest on your hips.

"Need somethin?" he asks, bored.

There is very little you wouldn't have given to see the look on her face, but the small huff followed by the door slamming shut is good enough. Small giggles rattle your body as you lean back to get a better look at Kyle, as if your body would throw a fit if he wasn't within your sight. There's an inexplicable relief that floods his face as he looks up at you, and he mirrors your smile.

"What?" he defends. "Only asked her if she needed somethin."

"I think you broke her heart," you patronize.

"She'll live," he mumbles, lips falling against the crook of your neck again. "Your heart is the only one I care about, anyway."

[raysrays]

Crimson Guardian NSFW

Kyojuro Rengoku x Wife! Reader

18+ MDNI!🚫

CW: NSFW Content, minor angst, controlling/manipulating behavior, fluff-ish.

Y/N POV

Scenario : You've recently married into the respected Rengoku family, and while you continue your work as a demon slayer, life starts to get a bit messy. Balancing your duties becomes a real challenge as you navigate the challenges of married life. You find yourself having to make tough choices just to keep your husband happy, all while debating to stay true to yourself and your calling as a demon slayer.

Marriage. Truly one of the most beautiful milestones a couple can achieve. Marrying Kyojuro has undoubtedly been my greatest accomplishment.

I still remember it vividly, as if it were yesterday. Surrounded by friends, family, and core members, we pledged our lives to each other. Though it wasn't the most glamorous wedding ever seen, it was enough. Because really, all I've ever wanted was Kyojuro, and now, finally, I have him.

For the first few months, our marriage was nothing short of perfect. I moved into the Rengoku estate with Kyojuro's family, assisting Shenjuro with chores and gradually trying to get closer to Shinjuro. Though I'm not sure how successful I was.

It was only six months in that I realized being a demon slayer and a wife wasn't as easy as I thought.

Before our relationship, I was Kyojuro's Tsuguko. He was simply my mentor, and I trained hard under him to get myself where I am today. It was later down the road that we noticed each other's lingering gazes, the occasional flirting, and all the other subtle hints of wanting to be more.

Kyojuro was strong, and I knew he wanted a family, but I simply wasn't ready to give up training and my duties as a demon slayer just yet.

Every day, after helping out around the estate, I would hike over to HQ and pick up where I had left off the previous day, training until the late hours of the night. I would often come home exhausted, which usually caused Kyojuro to worry. As much as I reassured him, he never seemed fully convinced.

Now, here I was, sitting at the dinner table with Kyo across from me. It was a rare occasion for us to eat alone together like this. We made small talk about our day and training, and then he finally stopped eating and put his silverware down.

"Little Flame, I think it’s time we have a serious discussion about the way things have been as of late,” his usual happy smile seemed almost nervous.

I set my spoon down on my plate, giving him my full attention.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Sunflower, you have been working so hard as of late, and it’s quite admirable. I truly admire your dedication to the demon slayer corps and your training!”

“But…?” I ask, confused.

“But… since our marriage, I’ve found myself in constant worry over you. Every time you go on a mission without me, I have to painfully wait for your return. Not knowing whether or not you'd be injured or even-“

“Dead?” I finish.

I saw his body tense up at the word.

“Yes, my love. Dead. I cannot even bear the thought of you never returning to me. It pains me to my core,” he seemed so sad, so worried about me.

I know Kyojuro, I know he didn’t mean anything bad by what he was saying. However, I felt almost offended. He too was a slayer, a hashira. I also had to deal with the fear of him returning with serious injuries or even never returning at all.

Did he believe me to be incapable of protecting myself? He was the very one who trained me. Even though I knew Kyojuro was strong, much stronger than me, it just felt like he lacked faith in me.

“You don’t think I’m strong enough anymore? Do you think marriage has made me soft?” I realized I might have come off a little too harsh, but my emotions were getting the best of me.

His expression seemed surprised, but I could tell. While he may not have used those words, that was definitely the gist of it.

I watched him get up from his place at the table and walk over to me. He pulled my chair out from under the table, then grabbed my hands and kneeled down in front of me.

His big, bright eyes were now staring up at me.

“You are one of the strongest people I know, my love. I know how capable you are, but please remember…”

He brought my hands to his lips, kissing them softly.

“You are my wife before you are a demon slayer. I cannot risk sending you off only for you to never return.”

I could practically hear the desperation and love in his voice.

Kyojuro wasn’t someone who would usually discourage anyone from pursuing something they're passionate about. So if he was now, I knew that it’s something he’s been internally battling with for a while.

“What about you? Is it not the same? What about my worry? What if you never come home to me?” I could feel my face start to heat up. Everything he was saying seemed to come from genuine care, but it felt so hypocritical.

“I am a Hashira, my little flame. I have a certain responsibility you do not have to burden yourself with. I shall retire soon, in just a few years. So please…”

There’s no way he’d ask me-

“Please retire your sword, Y/N. Please stay home for me. Please allow my heart to rest easy knowing you'll be here waiting for me whenever I shall return,” his voice was pleading.

I felt so conflicted. I’d worked so hard. All of these years of training to hopefully become a high-ranking swordsman myself. However, at the same time, I never stopped to consider my romantic life and how being married would affect things.

We both sat there in silence for a few moments, and I finally rose up from the chair, pulling him up off his knees along with me.

I looked up at him, reaching my hand up to rest on his cheek.

“Kyojuro, you are the only one I would retire my sword for. So please promise me, promise me you will always come home to me. Until the day you yourself retire.”

“I promise you, Sunflower. As long as I know you are safe and waiting for me, there is no demon that could ever keep me away.”

I felt his hand on my lower back and the other holding up my chin.

We both leaned in, our lips meeting in a tender kiss.

This kiss started so gently, so lovingly at first. As we pulled away for just a moment, staring into each other’s eyes, we realized how long it had been since we really enjoyed each other’s company.

After that, the kiss only grew hotter and more passionate.

Kyojuro swept me off my feet and carried me straight to our shared room at the back of the estate, the most private spot. It seemed fitting for newlyweds, after all.

As he gently laid me back on the soft futon, I couldn't help but stay focused on him. Kyojuro was simply beautiful. His hair, his eyes, his body, everything about him looked like he was perfectly sculpted.

My admiration was interrupted as I felt him begin to kiss me again. One of his hands traveling to my breasts, gently squeezing it.

The other massaging my thigh.

I feel him pull away from me starting to kiss on my neck traveling all the way down to my chest.

Kyojuro had always known my weak points and how to make me say yes to his every request. He knew my body just as well as I did, and now he was taking full advantage of that knowledge.

I could feel him pressing against me as he moved his hand down my body, lightly touching me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me, wanting more.

Then I heard, Kyojuro's soft voice whisper these words, almost as a demand. "Enjoy this little flame, you've kept me waiting far too long.”

As soon as those words left his lips, I felt myself begin to relax. His movements were so gentle, so careful, so loving.

His fingers trailed down my sides, sending chills through my body. His hands went back up and caressed my neck, making me tremble. He kissed me once more, and I melted into him.

It was as if he had cast a spell over me, and all I could do was obey him. He was completely in control of me.

After a moment, I felt him move back down and remove my underwear, revealing my already wet entrance. His hand slid between my thighs, and I couldn't help but let out a moan as his finger slipped inside me. He was gentle at first, just barely grazing me, but it felt incredible.

"Is this okay?" he asked softly, his breath hot against my ear.

I nodded but I could tell that wasn’t enough for him.

“Use your words my love.” He demanded sweetly.

“Yes Kyo, it’s perfect.” I said, my voice trembling.

He leaned down and kissed my lips before pulling back again, smiling at me.

"I want to be inside of you," he whispered, his voice filled with desire.

"Please," I begged.

He removed his fingers, replacing them with his cock, his tip rubbing against my clit.

"Good girl," he whispered, thrusting into me.

I threw back my head, arching my back and digging my nails into his shoulders. His movements were slow and deep at first and then they became faster and harder, and soon my whole body began to shake. I couldn't stop the moans from escaping my lips, and I couldn't help but beg for more.

When he starts to speed up I know we are both about to reach our limit.

I feel his fingers interlock with mine and his lips pressing against mine again, but this time, he wasn’t just kissing me, he was also letting his teeth graze my bottom lip.

He was biting down hard enough to draw blood.

We were both so close and we were both trying to hold back but we couldn’t anymore. We were finally going to let ourselves release.

I was the first one to let myself go, arching my back as I moaned his name.

Then he followed not too far behind.

After he finishes, we just lay there for a bit catching our breath.

“I love you, Y/N,” he finally breathed out, turning his head to look at me.

I turned to face him as well. “I love you, Kyojuro.”

After that, the two of us drifted off in each other's arms for the rest of the night.

The next morning when I awoke, I was still trapped wrapped in Kyojuro's arms.

After a bit of struggling, I managed to maneuver my way out and make it to the kitchen.

There I saw Senjuro, who was already preparing breakfast for everyone.

“Good morning, Sen,” I greeted with a yawn.

“Oh, good morning, Y/N!”

“I'm almost finished with breakfast. Is my brother awake yet?”

“He should be awake soon. We both have to see Master Kagaya today,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

He stopped to turn and look at me.

“Did something bad happen?” he asked nervously.

Poor Senjuro always assumes the absolute worst in every situation. Well, I suppose in this case it’s somewhat understandable.

“No, Sen, nothing's wrong. Kyojuro and I are just going to inform Master Kagaya of my retirement. That’s all.”

He gave a puzzled look.

“Retirement? Why? Haven’t you been training for years to improve your sword skills to move up in the ranks?” he asked.

He was right. I know I shouldn’t go back on my word to Kyojuro, but I really was having second thoughts about my decision.

Senjuro could probably sense my doubt because his next response was:

"If this is something that you're not sure of, then you shouldn't do it. If you have doubts about this decision, then maybe you're not ready for retirement just yet."

His words really struck a chord with me.

Maybe he was right.

Before I could ponder that any further, Kyojuro had made his way into the kitchen.

"Good morning! How are my two favorite people doing?" he said cheerfully.

I smiled.

"Morning, Kyo. Did you sleep well?"

"I did, actually. Thank you, little flame," he walked over to me, giving me a kiss.

I could feel my chest tightening, nervous about what was to come.

The whole time at breakfast, I felt so spaced out. All I could hear was Kyojuro and Senjuro talking and the occasional grunt from Shinjuro drinking away at the table.

“Sunflower? Are you okay?”

I was snapped out of my daze by Kyojuro waving a hand in front of my face. All three of them were staring at me, kind of concerned.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”

I shook my head a little and looked down at my plate. I felt bad for Senjuro going through all that trouble to cook, but I simply couldn’t eat right now.

After we finished breakfast, Kyojuro and I headed out.

The thought that this would be the last time wearing my uniform with my sword by my side was so weird and almost uncomfortable to me.

I knew that this day would come eventually, but I always hoped in the back of my mind that Kyojuro would be the one to retire before me.

I had been so focused on training and my duties as a demon slayer that it had never even occurred to me how my marriage would affect everything.

I was now a wife. My first priority should be the estate, and helping Shinjuro while he was in his state of grief, and being there for Senjuro as well.

It wouldn’t be right of me to go against my husband's wishes either. Especially after the intimate moment we shared. Right?

As we made it to HQ waiting to speak with the master I felt my heartbeat racing inside of me.

The room was quiet, I could feel Kyojuro’s eyes lingering on me but I couldn’t bring myself to face him right now.

Both mine and Kyojuro’s attention was shifted as we heard the door open and Master Kagaya entered the room.

"Rengoku, Y/N. It's a pleasure to see you both," Kagaya said, his face as warm as ever.

"It's wonderful to see you too, Master," I replied.

"So what brings you two here? It seems urgent, judging by the fact that you came in so early."

"It is very urgent," Kyojuro began.

He then proceeded to explain our conversation from the night before, and how I was considering retiring.

"Y/N, this is a big decision, and it's important that you feel comfortable and confident in it. Do you think you can fully retire, knowing you won't be able to assist the demon slayers as you are now?" Kagaya asked.

I looked at the master and then glanced at Kyojuro. He seemed so proud and happy that we were here. I could feel the warmth radiating from him.

But, I could also sense the worry in his expression. He was nervous, scared almost.

I couldn't do that to him.

"Master, I've spent most of my life training for the opportunity to become a hashira. To serve the demon slayer corps and protect those who cannot protect themselves. But...I'm no longer just a demon slayer. I'm also a wife, and as such, I think it's only right that I focus on that," I answered.

The room fell silent for a moment.

"If you truly feel this is the right choice, then we support you, Y/N," Kagaya finally spoke.

"Thank you, Master," I bowed.

"Thank you so much, Master! I will never

forget your kindness!" Kyojuro bowed as well.

The two of us left the room and started to head out.

As we exited, we ran into a few of the other Hashira, who asked us about what we had gone to see Master Kagaya about.

They too seemed surprised and a little concerned when Kyojuro explained to them that I would be retiring so soon.

I could tell some of their reactions to the news annoyed Kyojuro. Shinobu used the word “controlling,” and you could see his smile almost falter.

"Controlling" was never a word I would have used to describe my husband. He just loves me, right? He wants to protect me. There's no way my sweet and kind Kyo would ever do anything to control or manipulate me.

Right?

Part Two

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Wrapping Paper - Mike Schmidt X Female Reader

Title: Wrapping Paper

Mike Schmidt X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Abby

WC: 2,449

Warnings: The incident at Freddy's mentioned, post FNAF movie, pining, Mike's nervous, sort of idiots in love, teasing, flirting?, ~hand holding~, mini angst, and fluff

It was Abby's birthday, and Mike still didn't have a present for her. For weeks he had been looking around craft stores when he could before heading to work or after - having found a well-paying job that he hadn't been fired from yet. But even after weeks of searching, he still had nothing to give her. Mike had probably been to the craft stores more than a dozen times at this point, checking the clearance items for anything that he thought Abby would like. But, the clearance section was a small rack at the back of the shop that had half-empty boxes of crayons from unruly children taking them in the store, scribbled on notebooks, and so on. This was all he was able to afford too, he'd go to great lengths for Abby, but it saddened him that he couldn't even afford brand-new supplies like the sixty-four pack of crayons or a nice big notebook for drawing. 

Tapping absentmindedly on the wheel of his car, Mike drove home yet again empty-handed. Pulling up to his house, Mike let out a sigh as he leaned back against the seat of his car, shutting his eyes briefly before raising his arm and reading his watch. Getting out of the car, he grabbed his backpack and headed inside. Dropping his back off into his room, Mike went to the kitchen to start making dinner before Abby came home from school. But just as he was putting the spaghetti noodles in the pot of water, there was a knock at the door. 

Shutting off the stove, Mike brushed his hands on his jeans before making his way to the front door. Opening the door, he was pleasantly surprised to see you standing before him. You had a smile on your face, and you were holding a large box wrapped in colorful paper.

"Hello, Mike," You greeted him, tilting your head to the side slightly as your grin became more of a nervous one, "I hope I'm not too early," Shuffling the present under your arm, you pulled out the folded invitation from the front pocket of your jeans. The plain piece of printer paper doodled with little pictures of what you had assumed were you, Mike, and Abby, along with the date and time of Abby’s little birthday celebration. "It says three, but I thought that maybe you might need help setting things up?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, sure," Mike stumbled out, moving to the side to let you in. Mike watched as you placed the present on the table, dropping your bag beside it. 

You had been Mike's neighbor for the past year, recently moving in only a couple of weeks after the incident over at Freddy's. He remembered the day he met you vividly, watching Abby ride her bike up and down the sidewalk as your car pulled into the previous vacant house beside his. Stepping out of your Jeep Grand Cherokee, he watched as you opened the back of the car to begin carrying boxes into your new home. Gaining the courage after watching you struggle to unlock the front door with two cardboard boxes in your arms, Mike rushed over. 

Fumbling with your keys as you tried to unlock the door, shuffling the boxes to rest on your arm and propped-up knee as strands of your hair fell in front of your face. The way you smiled at him, grateful as he took the two boxes out of your straining arms, helping you move the rest of your boxes and furniture in. Breathily, you thanked him, offering to bake him cookies or something for him and his sister, and from then on, you, Mike, and Abby would spend a lot of time together.

You'd come over for dinner sometimes, Abby adored you, always asking about you and drawing pictures of you with her and her brother. You do the very same, inviting the two to come over for lunch or dinner, or to play board games, or to watch movies. 

Mike couldn't help but be attracted to you, ever since he watched you pull into your driveway. He didn't say anything though, pushing those rapidly growing feelings to the back of his mind, in fear of ruining the amazing friendship that you and him shared. Sometimes Mike would have to stop himself from staring at you across the table during dinners. His heart would race when he saw you spending time with Abby - seeing both of your smiling faces always brought warmth to his chest, and his breath would hitch slightly at the sound of your laugh. But he deeply cared about the friendship between you two, and wouldn't ruin the good relationship by doing anything stupid. So he held his tongue. And for the most part, you did the same thing.

Turning around to face Mike, he swiftly snapped out of the daze he had been in, meeting your eyes as you smiled at him, "So, what can I help you with? Do you need help with decorations or maybe a cake?"

Scratching his cheek, Mike shrugged a shoulder, looking around the room, "Uh, I don't have any decorations. I was about to start making the spaghetti when you arrived." He spoke, watching as you simply nodded, making your way into his kitchen. "I- I totally forgot about the cake… I’ve been so busy…" He finished, a bit embarrassed at his realization.

Noticing the pot of lukewarm water and the opened box of spaghetti noodles, you hummed to yourself before looking through the cupboards. Mike followed, leaning against the entrance of the kitchen, watching as you pulled out a small bag of flour, sugar, and a small circular pan. "Well," You huffed, a bit out of breath as you pulled out a large plastic bowl from the lower cupboards. "At least you still have some of the ingredients from our last bake day." As you began to start making the homemade cake, you glanced over at Mike, whose gaze was staring down at the floor at his feet. "You alright, Mikey?" You asked, gaining his attention.

Looking up, he let out a deep sigh, shaking his head as he pushed off the wall, "I haven't been able to find Abby a present. I've been looking for weeks but I still can't find anything for her."

You paused, pouring some flour into the bowl, looking over at the man as he began to pace the room slightly, "You couldn't find anything?" You asked, raising your eyebrows as Mike nodded his head.

"Nothing! I checked two craft stores every day after work for like three weeks." He explained, rubbing his hand over his forehead, "But I can't seem to find anything that isn't damaged or just something I think she'll like." Stopping his pacing, Mike's shoulders dropped as he let out a sigh, "I really am trying my best, y'know. It's frustrating." He admitted, glancing over at you as you turned around to look at him.

"You are doing your best, Mike," You spoke softly, slowly stirring the flour and other dry ingredients together, "And you know that Abby knows that and that she loves you." Pausing you glanced at him with a small reassuring smile, "I don't think Abby will care if you gave her a present or not, just you spending time with her, celebrating her birthday, is enough for her."

Mike nodded and walked over to stand next to you, watching you as you began to crack the eggs into a separate bowl, "You're right..."

"As always," You sang, unable to stop the grin on your face. Mike looked down at you, softly smiling to himself as you began to hum some song you liked or probably had stuck in your head. Looking up at him, your grin softened as you noticed Mike already looking at you, making your cheeks burn as you quickly looked back down at the dismantled cake ingredients in front of you. "Want to help me maybe, Mr. Schmidt?" You asked, using the remaining courage you had left to give him one last glance.

Nodding, Mike smiled lightly and picked up a whisk, beginning to help you with the mixing. He felt his heart flutter, and his mind wondered, but it faded as he began to focus on the task at hand.

It didn't take long though before the cake was finished, baked, and topped with vanilla icing and colorful candles; unlit and ready for the birthday girl. You and Mike were finishing up the spaghetti, you were working on the sauce while Mike made the meatballs. You bit your lip as you chuckled, watching as Mike almost lost his grip on the spatula he was using to roll the cooking meatballs around in the pan. Looking over at you, Mike felt his stomach twist, seeing the amused smile on your face, "What?" He questioned, glancing from you to the pan and back.

Smiling to yourself, you shook your head, "Nothing. Just enjoying my time with you, is all," Pouring the pasta sauce into a pot and putting on the lid, you leaned against the countertop to look at Mike. 

Biting the skin on the inside of his cheek, Mike turned off the stove, meeting your gaze, "Look, Y/N..." He hesitated, swallowing hard as he looked away. He was quiet for a moment before sighing and taking a step closer to you. "Thank you... For coming here today." He mumbled, his voice soft and gentle. That's not what he was meaning to say, though he did really appreciate you helping him. 

"Mikey, you don't have to thank me," You reached over to place your hand on top of his, "I'd do anything for you and Abby." You replied quietly, giving his hands a soft squeeze.

Slowly, Mike flipped over his hand, now palm to palm, he intertwined his fingers with yours, bringing your hands to his lips so he could place a light kiss on top of yours before returning your hand to the counter as the front door opened and slammed shut. 

"Mike! I'm home!" Abby called out, dropping her backpack on the ground near the door, immediately spying the brightly-colored wrapped present on the table; a smile lit up on her face. Exiting the kitchen, a warm sensation flowed throughout Mike's body as you pulled your hand away from his, greeting the young girl whose smile widened at the sight of you, "Y/N!" She cheered, rushing into your arms.

Chuckling softly, you returned the hug, pulling away after a few seconds, "Hey, Abs," Pulling away from each other, crouched down as you held her by her upper arms, "Look at you... How old are you now? Twenty-Five?" You joked, making the girl laugh as she shook her head.

"No! I'm eleven!" She told you while laughing, making you nod your head and stand back up.

"Of course, how silly of me." Turning back around to Mike, you paused, seeing that he was still standing there, watching you interact with Abby; a fondness evident in his eyes. Looking back down at the girl, you smiled at her, "So, are you hungry? We made spaghetti." She nodded her head eagerly, sitting down at the table, her eyes staring at the present in the middle of the table; her eyes sparkling. You smiled, walking back into the kitchen where Mike was already plating Abby's food. Pulling out two extra plates, you began plating yours and Mike's, peeking over at Mike who seemed to be becoming more and more nervous as he spooned spaghetti on the plate. Bumping your hip with his, you caught his eye, "You'll be fine. I have a plan." You whispered with a small grin, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his stubbly cheek before bringing yours and Mike's plate to the table. Mike blinked, slowly walking over to the table, his cheeks tinged pink as he sat beside you.

Soon enough, the both of you were singing 'Happy Birthday' to Abby as Mike sat the cake down on the table in front of her. The candles, lit and aflame, flickered before being blown out, applause erupting from you and Mike as Abby made her wish after her birthday song. Chuckling softly to himself, Mike leaned forward on his forearms, "What did you wish for, Abs?"

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head, "I can't tell you, silly."

Shaking his head in amusement, "Alright then. Cake or presents?" He then asked as you readied the cake knife and three small plates for the cake. 

"Presents!" Abby declared, beaming as Mike let out a small huff, smiling as he turned to you; you could see the nervousness in his eyes as he looked over at you.

Picking up the present, Mike moved the cake out of the way as you placed the present in its place, "Here you go, Abs," You spoke, gesturing for her to go ahead and open her gift. Mike watched beside you as Abby ripped the colorful wrapping paper off the cardboard box, pulling off the tape with amazing speed. He felt tense, hoping that she wouldn't hate him for not getting her a gift. Before his mind could run off anymore, he felt your hand cover his and he lifted his gaze to meet yours. Smiling at him, you squeezed his hand which made Mike's breath hitch as he felt an odd feeling well up inside his chest. Taking a deep breath, he gave you a small smile before turning back to Abby who gasped in shock.

"Oh my gosh!" She exclaimed, peering inside the box at the many goodies that were found within, looking up at you, she gave you a huge smile, "Thank you, Y/N!"

Mirroring her smile, you waved a hand, "Don't forget your brother, he helped pick out a couple of the items," Mike turned to look at you in surprise, causing you to chuckle under your breath.

Abby got out of her seat, rushing around to hug her brother tightly, "Thank you, Mike!" She thanked him, grinning widely at him.

"Anything for you, Abs," He said, patting her on the back. He turned to you as Abby went back to sit back down, digging around in the box; pulling out craft supplies, stuffed animals, and candy. Mike couldn't help but look at you with an awestruck expression on his face; this girl was too good to be true. "Thank you, Y/N."

Resting your cheek in your hand, you gave him your stunning smile, "Don't mention it."

Shaking his head slightly, Mike looked back at Abby who was already drawing with her new multi-colored markers in her brand-new notebook. 

[heyimkana]

This translation may not be 100% correct, I'm sorry for the mistakes, both English and Japanese are not my first language 😭

A little context: studying abroad, you and your boyfriend live in different countries and it's been a while since you've last seen each other. Missing you terribly, he calls you very early in the morning.

00.02 Listening to your voice like this, it really feels like you're here beside me so for me not being able to touch you directly is... really hard.

00.15 Hey, right now... You're in your room right? Is there anyone else there?

(You tell him, "I'm alone.")

00.24 I see... Well then... For now, why don't you replace me with your hand instead?

(You say, "I don't get what you're saying.")

00.35 You don't get what I'm saying? *chuckles*

00.38 I mean, the hand that you're not using to hold the phone right now... It's free, right?

00.42 Think of it as my hand.

00.45 Let's see...

00.47 For starters, try touching your own lips.

(You hesitate.)

00.54 Come on, don't be so embarrassed, hurry up.

00.59 Your soft lips... Touch them. *kisses*

01.07 Hehe, didn't it feel like I just kissed you? (referring to both the kissing sound he made and the way you touched your lips with your hand)

(You say, "Yes.")

01.14 Right? Then, next is... Try touching your neck.

01.22 Try to imagine that that's my hand, okay? If you think of it like that, you'll feel a little sensitive.

01.28 Do it more gently. Touching it or not, you can do whatever you like.

(You say, "It's embarrassing.")

01.39 It's not embarrassing. It's only me who sees you like this.

(You argue that he's not really looking because he's not there with you.)

01.46 No, I am looking at you. It's shown vividly, the way your face goes all red from the way I'm touching you.

01.59 When I close my eyes, I can really see you.

02.03 Listen, try to remember the day when we first got together.

02.10 That time, I carried you to the bed.

02.16 Come on, you do it too. Lie down on the bed.

(You ask him, "Are you on the bed right now?")

02.20 Yeah, I'm on my bed too.

02.27 You're already on the bed?

(You say, "Yes.")

02.30 Then, close your eyes. Slowly, start unbuttoning your shirt. Imagine it that I'm doing it to you.

02.40 That's right, you're so good...

02.44 Aah, look. I can see your beautiful skin. Your skin is so white, so smooth and soft...

02.57 *breathes in, sighs* You smell so good...

03.04 You can imagine it, right?

03.06 I'm right in front of you now.

03.10 I'll be gentle.

03.15 Keep your eyes closed.

03.18 I'll kiss those adorable eyes.

03.26 Then your neck...

03.32 Your ears too...

03.39 Ah... I want to touch your chest...

03.45 Try to touch your breast in my place.

03.48 Come on, there's only me who sees this.

03.57 As I thought... They're really soft, aren't they..?

04.02 Your nipples... How do they look now? Are they hard?

(You tell him, "It feels embarrassing to do this.")

04.13 It's not embarrassing. It's okay.

04.17 I'm also... hard.

04.26 Hey... Try touching your nipples too.

04.31 Come on, hurry up.

04.36 Is it still soft? Try doing it harder.

04.47 Your voice is so cute... That's right, this is what I've been wanting to hear.

04.57 Hey... I'll kiss your ear so... Try and play with your breasts some more.

05.10 Just like the way you did before. Harder.

05.26 Your cute voice... I want to hear it more...

05.32 Take off your panties next.

05.35 Actually, I'll be happy if you can take everything off.

(You ask him, "Why?")

05.39 Well, because I want to see everything.

05.45 Come on... Hurry...

05.53 Just by listening to those rustling sounds you make, I get so turned-on. I'm wondering if you're naked now...

06.01 You've taken your clothes off?

06.05 Then... So I can see more of you, try spreading your legs.

06.11 Wider. Make it so I can see you clearly.

06.16 Liar. You're not really spreading your legs 'cause you're too embarrassed to do it, are you? I can tell.

06.29 Hey... Show it to me... I haven't touched you down there in a while, so at least, even if we're just imagining it, let me touch you.

06.45 Then... Do it gently.... Even if it's only for a little, it's okay... Try touching yourself...

07.02 Don't put your fingers inside just yet, okay? You can't do it until I say so.

07.12 You can only touch yourself around the edge.

07.16 That's right... Just slowly... rub yourself...

07.31 Hmm? What is it? Don't tell me, you already put your fingers inside...

07.42 What should we do... *chuckles*

07.54 It can't be helped, huh? Well then, gently put your fingers inside...

08.11 Such a cute voice...

08.16 I'm close too...

08.21 Should we cum together then?

09.06 Sorry, it's morning over there, isn't it? I'm sorry for making you do such weird things so early in the morning.

09.16 Yeah, it felt so good... Thank you...

(After this part, there's a conversation where you're telling him to just use your pictures if he wants to jerk off next time and he says, "No, I can't use those precious pics I have of you to masturbate, that's crazy!" but inwardly he admits, "Sorry, truth is, I already used them before." He's worried that you'll start thinking of him as a pervert but you say, "We literally just had phone sex, what are you worried about?" Then the track got cut short here because Tumblr won't let me upload the full track, but what happens next is you tell him it's okay to use your pictures and you even offer him to send some lewder ones like pictures of you in your underwear and he gulps, "S-seriously?" and you reply, "What, you don't want them?" and he answers, "Yes, I do want them. Very, very much." But then he gets worried if the pictures got stolen and posted online, so he tells you not to do it.)

spoiler for the next track: You send him some pics of you in your underwear, along with a toy... you know, like a fleshlight... and then he uses it while looking at your pictures 😳

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : very angsty ; fluffy in the beginning just to break everyone's hearts a little bit more ; death of a family member ; famous nana cliffhanger ; Word Count : 5.2k Request : @lovesunshinefelix : Write more angst 😵‍💫 GIVE ME THE ANGST 😭🧎‍♀️ A/N : Of course! Anything for you bestie!! This one might be a little bit self indulgent just slightly, but it's definitely gonna be sad. I love making angsty Felix fics!

“One iced americano, please.”

“Okay, and what’s the name for the order?” 

“Lee Felix.” 

“Mmn… It should be done in just a moment.”

“Thank you.”

Such a short interaction, but that’s how it all began. You were simply the barista at the coffee shop next door to the office, but in a matter of seconds, you had become so much more to him. Your sweet smile and the fairy lights that twinkled in your eyes as you looked at him. He was absolutely enamored by you. 

The craziest part was that he didn’t even like coffee that much, he had just been craving the taste of the drink. Is that why it felt all the more serious to him? Like it had been fate that brought him to you in the first place, but now it was you that kept bringing him back. 

“One iced americano, please.” 

“The name for the order?” 

“It’s Lee Felix.” 

“Alrighty, it should be done soon.” 

“I’ll wait here.” 

He wondered if you’d remember him if he came in every day. Would you remember his order or his name? Would you remember the way he’d smile at you whenever you spoke? Would you remember anything about him, or was he just another customer that you probably forgot about once the work day was done? 

He wanted it to be like that, he wanted to be a customer that you looked forward to seeing. He wanted your head to lift with every ring of the bell when the shop door would open. He wanted you to wait for his appearance, to see you smile when he finally came in. He wanted you to recognize him. 

“One iced-“ 

“Americano? Is it for a Lee Felix?” 

“Hm… Maybe I should switch up my order?” 

“It’s almost been two weeks, I can’t imagine having an iced americano every single day for that long.” 

“Well, what would you recommend?” 

“I’m not sure… I don’t really drink coffee.” 

“That’s ironic. You don’t drink anything here?” 

“Does the free water count?” 

“I’ll take a free water then.” 

It was the first time he had actually talked to you, but it was also the first time you had said his name in any way other than letting him know that his order was done, it was the first time that you had said his order without his having to really say anything at all. It was the proof that he needed to know that he was on the right track, he just had to keep going. 

You had laughed that day too, not one of those fake laughs that he had heard you give the other guys that would try to flirt with you… It was a genuine laugh, the sound so beautiful that it was on a constant loop in his head for the rest of the day. He couldn’t get you off of his mind, but he didn’t want to rush things. Even if he felt that things were going perfectly, he wanted you to feel the same way. 

“Two free waters and a croffle, please.” 

“Really changing it up now, are we? Are you bringing a date?” 

“Ah… Not exactly…” 

“Good, because I don’t think a woman would be very impressed with free water for a drink.” 

“But the woman doesn’t drink anything on the menu. I’m really going out on a limb here with the croffle.” 

“You can never go wrong with a croffle, they’re delicious. Why would you invite this woman to the coffee shop if you know she doesn’t like anything on the menu though?”

“Because this is the only place I get to see her, and I’m too shy to ask her for her number, so I just wanted to see if she wanted to have some free water and share a croffle with me.” 

“Oh… Is she here already?” 

“I’m looking at her…” 

He could remember vividly the way you froze, the way it felt when his stomach began its descent, thinking that you would turn him down. It took you so long to say anything, he wondered if he had completely blown it by being so forward. He had never been so nervous in his life, but then that smile appeared on your face and you let out the most beautiful laugh, the sound tinged with a certain shyness that he had never read from you before. Did he make you as shy as you made him?

Sitting across the table from you, he could feel it, you were meant for him and he was meant for you. He was a perfect mix of so many emotions, nervousness, shyness, happiness, he was everything balled up into one, but it made him feel alive. It was like he was standing on stage and performing for all of STAY, except there was no setlist, there was no particular script or order that he had to follow… And it was only your eyes on him… But it was just as amazing, if not more, because you were looking at him and only him, and you were there with just him. He was all yours, and you were all his. 

///

“If you could have your wedding anywhere in the world, where would it be?” He asked as you both laid on the blanket beneath the cherry blossom trees that were in full bloom. It was beautiful, the perfect spot for a date, although most people would say that he didn’t have to try as hard now that it’s been 5 months since the two of you have been together. He didn’t believe them though, because every single time he took you somewhere new, somewhere more beautiful than the last, your eyes would light up and that adorable smile would stretch across your face, and he’d question why he would give that up. 

You hummed in thought, and he wondered what your mind looked like right now. Were images of your dream wedding playing out behind your closed eyes? Was he the one standing across from you in those thoughts, dressed in a suit, tears in his eyes as he watched the woman of his dreams walk down the aisle to meet him at the end? “I think… Hmm… Well, I don’t really mind much, actually. As long as I’m there with the person that I love, that I want to spend the rest of my life with… The place doesn’t matter much at all.” How could you be so amazing? He asked himself that every single day. “What about you? Where would your dream wedding be?” 

He hummed softly, rolling over onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow, staring down at you with the most loving eyes. He knew for a fact that he had never loved someone as much as he loves you, and it was only bound to get stronger. “I’m sure that a lot of people would think that I’d want to get married on the beach somewhere in Australia since that’s where I’m from… But I feel like the beach is rather cliche, it gets done too much.” 

“I like the beach…” You murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, your fingers lingering against his cheek. “I think it would make for some beautiful pictures, don’t you?” He hadn’t exactly thought about it that way, but now that he heard your input, it was like his entire view had been changed. 

“The beach it’ll be then.” He said quite enthusiastically, his cheeks still flushed from where you had touched him. You just had the ability to send fire coursing through his veins and he loved the feeling of it, the warmth that it brought. 

You giggled softly, rolling your eyes at the sudden switch up. “What’s with the serious questions all of a sudden? Do you plan on getting married some time soon? You have to invite me to the wedding.” You joked, and he stuck his tongue out at you before dipping down and pressing his lips to yours. 

“The only wedding I want is the one where you’re meeting me at the end of the aisle.” He said much softer now, even his breaths were so quiet it was almost like he wasn’t breathing at all. “We have time though… I just wanted a general idea of what you’d want.” 

“Felix…” His name was like a breath from your lips, so gentle, so light that the winds that shook the blossoms off the trees would be able to pick it up and carry it away. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to think too hard about it just now. I’ll make sure everything is perfect for you when the day comes.” 

“You’re crazy…” You murmured, and maybe he was. Maybe he was out of his damn mind to be planning a wedding with a girl that he had met at a coffee shop only five months ago. But to him it felt right, it felt like the only thing to do. He knew that all he wanted was you anyway, and he didn’t want to hide the way he felt for you. He wanted you to know that you were the only person he ever wanted in his life. 

“Mm… Maybe… You smell like coffee beans…” He teased, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and taking a deep breath. “Is that… French Roast? Maybe… with a hint of vanilla?” 

You squealed, playfully pushing against his shoulders as you tried to squirm free. “Stop it! You’re the one who didn’t want to wait for me to go home and change when I got off!” You defended, but he thought it was so damn adorable. 

“I just like to see you, I didn’t want to wait!” He jokingly whined, dropping on top of you completely, his face still hidden, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “You smell amazing, absolutely delicious, my coffee queen.” 

///

“Would you rather have your body and Bbokaris head, or the other way around?” You asked one night as you sat beside him on the couch. The question was most likely nothing more than a joke, but he wanted you to know that he listened to and thought about everything that you said, so he paused the movie that was playing on the tv and turned his body entirely toward you. 

“Would you still love me regardless of what my answer is?” He quizzed, his eyes searching deeply into yours for the answer, and you nodded your head so firmly that he knew you weren’t lying. You’d love him no matter what, and he would love you just the same. “I think I’d rather have his head, I don’t want to be any shorter… Or… Am I just a regular sized version of Bbokari? Is he me sized or am I him sized?” 

You snorted at the questions, your laughter still his most favorite sound in the entire world. He made a goal to make you laugh at least twice a day, if not more. “It would be the size of your skzoo plushy. It would be so cute though, wouldn’t it?! I could just carry you around with me everywhere I go! I’d never have to miss you!” 

Even though you were still giggling, your words made his heart flutter. Did you miss him when he wasn’t around? Did your heart ache like his whenever there was distance between the two of you? He always tried not to be too clingy. “You never have to miss me now, just text me and I’ll come to you always.” He draped his arm over your shoulder, tugging you closer to his side as he pressed a small kiss to your temple. 

“You have so much work to do, I don’t like bothering you. I would never call you away from practice or recording just to see you… Even if I want to.” You looked up at him, your smile pushing your cheeks up and squinting your eyes. Your eyes… He wanted to get lost in them for hours and hours, he wanted to live in them just for a moment, to see the world the way you do. What made you angry? What made you sad? He’s been with you for seven months now and he’s never seen you anything but happy. Was it because you were with him? Did he make all of your fears, your worries, your anger… Did he make it disappear? 

“I think even if I had Bbokari body I’d be in practice… Can you imagine?” Your head fell back once more as your laughter filled the room, he never wanted to stop hearing it. “Wait… Would my head shrink too, or would my head stay normal sized? I have so many questions!” 

You were laughing even harder now, wheezing even as you breathlessly tried to talk through fits of giggles. “Your normal head… Definitely… It would be so top heavy on the tiny body… Oh my gosh… Just picturing it… The Maniac move… With the…” You couldn’t even finish the sentence, bursting into a new fit of laughter, and now his mind was filled with the same image, and you both were laughing. 

It was nice to have someone to just laugh with, to goof around with. He felt so normal with you, he could have fun, he could be truly happy when you were beside him. That’s why he couldn’t let you go, why he kept thinking to a time somewhere in the future where you and him would both be on the beach in Australia, surrounded by your families and your friends, and he’d slip a ring onto your finger and promise himself to you for the rest of forever. 

///

“When was the last time I told you I loved you?” Felix asked over the phone, trying not to speak too loud. Sharing a hotel room wasn’t exactly hard, but he tried to be as respectful as possible to the guys who were trying to sleep while also trying to talk to you as much as he could. Time zones were always a pain in the ass, but they’re even worse now considering he couldn’t just not talk to you while he was away. 

“About five seconds ago.” You whispered, although there was no need for you to, he had your voice coming through his headphone so none of the other guys would hear you. “It’s so early in the morning for you… Aren’t you tired? I don’t want to keep you up all night.” 

“Mm… It’s worth it to talk to you.” He didn’t care if he was tired, he’d just sleep while getting his hair and makeup done, or he’d sleep in the car on the way to the next venue. “Have you eaten yet?” He quickly tried to change the subject, truthfully, he just wanted to hear you talk. He loved listening to you speak, he could lay in the hotel bed for hours with your sweet whispers filling his ears. 

“Not yet… I’m trying to think of what to eat.” The sound of your kitchen cabinets squeaking was heard and he chuckled softly, making a mental note to try to fix them or at least put some oil on the hinges so they wouldn’t be as loud. “Think I might just have a ramen bowl. It’s not as fun to do the dishes when I don’t have my designated drier.” 

Everything that the two of you did together was fun, it didn’t matter what it was. Whether you were going on dates or if it was something as mundane as doing the dishes or the laundry, if you were doing it together, that’s what made it enjoyable. “Well just let the dishes build up and we’ll have so much fun washing them together once I get back.” He teased, and he could just see the eye roll that came along with your soft snort as you tried to stifle your laughter. 

“I don’t think my sink is big enough for that many dishes.” You said between giggles, but your laughter was short lived as you let out a quiet sigh. “I miss you… So much…” Your voice was quieter now, almost to the point that he couldn’t hear you, and the only reason he could is thanks to the headphones. “Bbokari doesn’t hug me back the way you do… The bed is so empty and cold on your side… And the clothes that you left me are starting to lose your scent.” 

He couldn’t be more thankful that the two other guys in the room were already asleep because he could feel the tears pricking at his eyes as he listened to you. Felix missed you just as much, and he considered himself to be lucky because he wasn’t in a house that would feel so lonely if the roles were reversed. “I know, babe. I’ll be home soon, just wait for me. I miss you too… So much. I wish I could have snuck you here with me, I wish you would have packed yourself in my suitcase. We wouldn’t have to miss each other at all.” 

Now you both were crying, and he got up out of the bed as quietly as he could to make his way to the bathroom just to make sure he didn’t wake anyone up with his sniffling. “I love you, Lix…” Hearing you say it, no matter how many times he heard it, it was always like the first time. His heart would flutter and he’d feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and while this time was no different, there was an extra feeling of sadness that came along with it. 

“I love you too, babe… Don’t cry anymore, please? You’re too beautiful to cry… Smile for me, okay? And just always remember, I’m not gone forever, I’ll always come home to you.” 

///

2 months later and he was finally heading back home to you. The night before the flight he had stayed up just to talk to you on the phone, it sounded like you were crying again, but he assumed that the tears you were shedding were tears of happiness that he’d finally be returning to you. He’d be lying if he tried to say that he hadn’t shed a few tears himself at the thought of finally being able to hold you and kiss you again. 

He slept through the entire plane ride, and he hadn’t told you what time he’d be landing because he wanted to surprise you by showing up at your work. He wouldn’t say that he’s a hopeless romantic, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how romantic it would be to show up at your work with a bouquet of flowers. He could already see the shy little smile that would spread across your face, the flustered look in your eyes when you saw him walk through the door. 

When the plane finally landed, his excitement really kicked in. He didn’t want to wait to take his things back to the dorms, he didn’t even care to change his clothes or check to see how he looked. All he could think about was you. So he had the guys take all of his bags back to the dorms and he asked to be taken straight to the little coffee shop right beside the office… after stopping by a flower shop first though. 

“One iced americano, please.” His voice was cheerful as he practically waltzed through the door, the tiny bell above his head ringing out and announcing his entrance. The bouquet was hidden behind his back and he couldn’t help but smile wide as he looked around at the familiar scenery… They hadn’t changed anything in the months that he had been gone. 

“She’s not here.” One of the employees said, and Felix didn’t know whether to feel disappointed, humiliated, or both. He was sure that you would be there, you always worked on the weekdays, and it’s not like you had said anything about having your schedule changed. Maybe he should have let you know that he was on his way to the shop just so that you could have let him know that you weren’t there. 

“Oh… Well… Did her schedule change?” He asked rather sheepishly, and the girl behind the counter cocked her head to the side, her eyebrow raising. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? You didn’t fire her, did you?!” 

“She didn’t tell you, did she?” The girl leaned across the counter, and there was a look in her eye that made it clear to him that she found some kind of enjoyment in this, but he didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. “She went home. And I’m not talking about down the street. I mean, she hopped on a plane and went home. She was in a rush too.” 

The flowers fell to the floor, and he felt that he was going to be next if he didn’t keep himself steady against the counter. You… You didn’t even live in Korea… And you hadn’t told him that at all. He wouldn’t have even minded, as long as he knew that you’d always be his… But you just left. You left without saying anything to him. You left without warning, without reason. He didn’t even know what to do. 

For a moment, the world froze, time seemed to stop entirely, his mind reeling with what he could do, what he should do. Was he supposed to call you? Would you even answer him? Were you trying to run away from him? Had he done something wrong? He just couldn’t understand what he had done to make you leave without a message, a call… You had given him nothing when he wanted to give you everything. It wasn’t fair. Was he too clingy? Why didn’t you just talk to him? He would have done anything to just keep you, he would have changed completely if it meant having you still. 

“If you want to talk about it, I-“ The girl began, but he didn’t want to talk to anyone if it wasn’t you. She didn’t have the answers, she couldn’t tell him what he needed to know. He stormed out of the shop, taking a deep breath, the cold air catching in his throat and causing it to burn. He didn’t want to cry, but it seemed inevitable as the chill caught on the dampened streaks that coated his cheeks. Was there someone else? What was he to you that you could just give up so easily? How could you walk away without even a glance back, a second thought? He couldn’t let you do this, he just couldn’t. He was going to get an answer, whether you planned on giving it to him or not.

///

“Tell me more about your time in Korea. Tell me about that boy you met.” Your grandmother said hoarsely, her frail hand reaching out to grab yours. “You smile when you talk about him. I like seeing you smile.” 

“Gran… You really need to rest now.” You whispered, holding her hand in both of yours to try to warm it up. She always felt so cold now. “I’ll tell you all about it, I’ll tell you all about him when you wake up. I’ll be here.” Your thumb brushed along her knuckles, her skin wrinkled and thin, but to hold her hand was such a comforting thing, to be there beside her. 

She didn’t argue, she simply settled against her pillow, using her free hand to pull up her blanket a little higher as she kept her other hand between yours. She was weak, she was sick, and when you had gotten the call from your father that she was being moved from the hospital and being put into hospice, there was nothing that would keep you from being by her side. 

It was late, 11 o’clock at night, a little past that even, and everyone had gone to bed in their respective guest rooms. Everyone but you, still jet lagged and running on Korean time. You were wide awake, and you knew that a part of you refused to fall asleep just so that you’d have a little more time with your grandmother, even if it was just sitting beside her while she was sleeping. It might be all the time you have left with her, and a part of you felt guilty for being gone the past year, before she got really sick, before things came to this. You knew that she would have wanted you to live your life though, to find happiness, to find someone that you loved, someone who loved you back just as much. And you had found that, you had found all of those things in Felix, and you felt terrible for leaving the way you did, but you were in such a hurry, you were hoping he’d understand. 

11:56pm, four minutes to midnight and your phone rang on the nightstand table beside your grandmother’s bed. Felixs name was at the top of the screen and you quickly answered it, taking one last look at your grandmother before leaving the room to stand in the hallway, not wanting to risk waking her up while talking to him. “Lix…” You sighed out his name, and there was a sense of relief being kept at bay long enough for you to hear his voice, and you knew that once you did, you’d feel slightly better. 

“You left.” He began, and that relief never set in, instead there was just dread and more guilt stacked on top of the already existing emotion. “An entire year, and I didn’t even hear it from you, I heard it from one of your coworkers that you don’t even live here… And the worst part is that I didn’t even hear about it until you were already gone.” 

“I know that you’re angry, you have every right to be… But can you just listen to me, please?” You begged as quietly as you could, leaning against the wall in the hallway and slowly sinking to the floor. 

“I do have the right to be angry, and I won’t listen. You had almost 365 days for me to sit and listen to you so that maybe I’d understand what you did… But not now. It’s too late for explanations and I don’t want to hear your excuses either.” 

He sounded so angry, you had never heard him get mad before, and while you would have gotten angry right back, you were too busy being devastated. You needed him, you needed him more than anything right now, but he wasn’t even listening to you. On top of being sad, you were confused, you did live in Korea, just because you weren’t originally from there didn’t mean that you weren’t living there. “Why did you call… If you’re just going to yell at me and not listen to what I have to say… Why would you call me?” 

“You basically walked out on me… No… You did worse… You left the damn country. You’ve broken me, I can’t believe you’re the one even crying right now.” You clasped your hand over your mouth to try to muffle the sound of your sobs just so he wouldn’t point them out. “You know what… I don’t have anything else to say to you. I hope you enjoyed your year, you can go tell everyone about how you broke my heart, I’m sure you’ll be real popular for that. Bye.” You didn’t know what the hell he was on about, you didn’t know where the assumptions even came from, but they only managed to hurt worse. 

You were left in silence, your heart in shambles as you sat in the dark hallway, the only light coming from the cracked bathroom door at the end of the hall. You were shrouded in sadness, you had just lost the love of your life, the man that you planned on spending the rest of your life with, and you were about to lose your grandmother. Was there anything else that life would throw at you? 

///

It had been a week since the phone call, and while he had been angry then, the anger had slowly worn off and turned into a sadness spurred by the loneliness that he felt without you there. Hell, he would have been fine just talking to you on the phone, hearing your voice or seeing you through a video call. There was too much shame though, too much regret. He had lost his temper with you, and while the call had initially been to figure out why you had left, he hadn’t even let you talk long enough to tell him. 

He tried to not let it bother him, he tried to focus his mind on anything else, but whenever he’d go to the office, he’d have to go past the little coffee shop and it was a constant reminder of you, of when things had first begun. He felt like a fool, an absolute idiot, and now he didn’t even know how you were doing. He still loved you, and he wanted nothing more than to tell you those three words and hear them back, but now he was too scared to even try to contact you. 

So he watched your social accounts, waiting to see an update of any kind. You hadn’t blocked him, which was either a good sign, or a sign that you hadn’t been online in a while and he didn’t know how to feel about that thought. The last post you had made was from a week before he had left for tour, a picture of the two of you sitting at your table in the coffee shop, sharing a croffle with your free waters, a perfect recreation of your first date. 

His notifications were on for whenever you did post, just so that he could be the first person to like the picture or an update, but it had been so long since you posted that he rarely even checked the notifications to see if it was you. Today had been a rare occurrence where he had already been looking at his phone when you did post, and while it was only an instagram story update, he immediately clicked on it. 

“I’ll miss you Gran… I love you so much.” The text read under a picture of an older woman, her eyes wrinkled in the corners, a sign that she smiled a lot, and her smile was just like yours, he could see it in the picture. She was a happy woman, he could tell that she was loved, and that she had loved just as much. As he looked at the picture longer though, it set in, the realization… You hadn’t left him, not because you wanted to… You had to go home, you had to be there for her, for your family… And he had gotten angry with you for that… He hadn’t even let you explain. 

“Oh… Fuck!” He hissed, quickly closing out of instagram and opening his phone, his thumb hovering over your contact. He wasn’t sure how he’d go about apologizing, he didn’t know how the phone call would go even if you did answer, but he had to try. He had to at least say sorry if nothing else, so he called you, and he waited for it to go to voicemail, but then he heard silence… and then a shaky breath… You were crying. “Y/N… Babe… Are you there?” 

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[keerysfreckles]

tasm! peter parker who takes pictures of you any chance he gets.. and reader finds those pics with cute lil captions of whatever she was doing in that moment

pictures - peter parker (tasm)

pairing: peter parker x f!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, pure fluff :)

a/n: I LOVE THIS SM OMG andrews peter will always have a special place in my heart <33

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

in the middle of impulsively deep cleaning y/n and peter's shared apartment, y/n was standing in peter's closet. he had a pile of clothes inside it that he was meaning to donate. y/n was in the process of grabbing all of the clothes and tossing them into a garbage bag. peter was somewhere in the apartment, but y/n was focused on her own task.

she looked around the closet once before leaving, to see if she sees anything peter hasn't used in over a year.

y/n stands on her tip toes to grab a pair of shoes on the top shelf that were worn out, and she knew peter hasn't worn them since high school.

standing back up on her tip toes, her hand flails around the space on the shelf slightly, as she tries to feel for any other things she can donate. however, her eyebrows furrow once she feels an unfamiliar box.

she grabs it at an awkward angle, before knealing on the ground and taking the lid off.

firstly, y/n's confused, once she sees the box filled with polaroid pictures. she rakes her fingers through all the pictures in the box, and notices they're all of her.

she giggled at the realization that peter was always taking her picture.

she lifted one, and saw it was of her decorating the christmas tree. the bottom was labeled with peter's messy handwriting, 'christmas 2019'.

she picked another one out of the box. her back was facing the camera, and she guessed she was cooking something, seeing a plate full of food next to her on the counter, as she stood in front of the stove. after reading the caption peter had written, she was right, it was when she cooked pancakes for her and peter.

y/n continued looking through the pictures. her heart only warmed after looking at them.

"y/n?" peter's voice echoed in his room.

"in here!" she called back, making peter walk into his closet.

"oh, you found those," peter kneels down besides y/n, with a shy smile on his face.

y/n looks at one with peter looking over her shoulder. he took the picture in front of the mirror, well y/n was the one holding the camera, as peter had his face buried into her neck.

y/n remember that day very vividly. it was the day peter asked her to officially be his girlfriend. they had just gotten back from their first date, and peter thought y/n looked absolutely adorable wearing his pajama pants, so he insisted to take a picture.

"this doesn't really look like cleaning to me," peter chuckles, noticing how distracted y/n had gotten.

"oh shush," she giggles, "what have you been doing this whole time?"

"i was actually cleaning the kitchen. just like you said you were going to go through donations, which clearly is going so well," peter laughs while gesturing to what y/n was doing.

peter kisses the top of her head, before standing up, "since i love you, i'll let it slide just this once."

y/n only giggles again, and waves goodbye to peter before he walks out of his room.

even though she knew she had more cleaning to do, she went back to her previous task, her smile never leaving her face.

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Duty Over Heart

Pairing: Captain John Price x medic!reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, angst, fluff, mutual pining, inappropriate workplace flirting? no power imbalance, f!reader, reader is implied to be American but can be read as anyone

Reader is called "Doc"

Words: 6.1k

Synopsis: You and Lieutenant John Price worked together on a mission in Bosnia, only to find out that your lives were forever changed afterwards...

You are currently reading the prologue to Duty Over Heart

(I guess technically lieutenant Price in this but he’s captain in the rest so)

Price can vividly remember what the day felt like after your first mission together.

It had been a nice day, warm and sunny to the point he wondered if maybe he would overheat if there wasn’t a breeze. To him, he could vaguely smell sea salt and the promise of the fish dinner his mother used to make on Sundays after having dragged him to church earlier that morning. The smell of petrol and the feeling of the warmth from a very particular quilt he had grown up sleeping with. 

The feeling, at the time, had been quite odd to him since he had met you far from the ocean and far from Liverpool, the place he had called home up until the age of sixteen before he decided to enlist in the military, but after as many years as the two of you have known each other, he understood why he had remembered those things.

Price had gotten home from a long deployment overseas. Anyone normal would’ve taken the time to settle back within their home, let themselves rest for a moment before they decided to be active again, especially when they had been risking their lives nearly everyday for months on end, but Price was anything but normal.

No one normal killed people for their job, no one normal had to make certain calls that risked the lives of people he would call friends for the rest of the world.

Civilians didn’t see the horrible shit he saw everyday, they shouldn’t in his mind, which was why he had the job he did.

Which was also why he found himself at a football game the day after he had gotten back home. 

He didn’t particularly care for the teams that were playing but that didn’t stop him from getting into the game, not when it kept his mind from wandering into places he wished he could snuff out like the cigars he smoked far too often.

A game was a game, he’d enjoy it if it meant he didn’t have to be reminded of his last deployment.

He had been stuck in his own world, engrossed in the football game when someone sat down next to him. He wouldn’t have thought anything of it, it was a busy game and people often got up from their seats and switched them to get better views of the field.

“This seems like a very intense soccer game.”

Price’s face fell into a scowl as he suppressed an eyeroll and he glanced at the woman who sat beside him. 

He could immediately tell she was American, not only because of her accent or because she called football “soccer”, but because of the way she looked. 

She stood out almost like a sore thumb, wearing clothes that American tourists often wore when visiting London as if she were on vacation but he knew better. She sat with confidence but there was an air of professionalism around her that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else and he knew the moment that she looked at him with a smile his leave was going to be cut short.

“It’s football.” He countered and scoffed. “Americans…”

“I didn’t realize you took soccer so seriously, Lieutenant.” She said and this time he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling.

“I find football to be relaxing.”

She raised an amused eyebrow, most likely because she must’ve been around to hear him screaming very angrily about the last couple of calls the refs had made. However, she didn’t say anything to disagree as the crowd around them cheered from a goal that he had missed entirely.

His attention had been taken from the game only to go back to work, as it always did. He could argue with anyone that his entire life was his work and though that was mostly by choice, at the moment he wished he could have just these few hours to himself.

“Kate Laswell, CIA.” She introduced herself with a smile, one that was polite but had a hidden meaning behind it.

“What do you want?” He nearly demanded, unable to keep the poor attitude that had crept into him since the moment she had sat next to him.

Price didn’t want to be rude, normally he wasn’t but his nerves were still high from yesterday and he wasn’t too happy about being interrupted on his time off, let alone during a football game. 

“I need you for an op,” Laswell began and he sucked in his lips. “You’re the best man I know for the job and I can’t afford mistakes on this one.”

“Best man, eh?” He laughed.

It was true that he had gained quite the reputation for himself within the SAS over the many years of his service. He was one of the highly respected soldiers and often the one that many of his higher ups turned to when they wanted the job done. However, it never would’ve occurred to him that he was also considered the best in the minds of the Americans, especially those in the CIA.

For anyone else, they would’ve gotten cocky about it, but for Price, it just meant he worked more often than not.

“I’ll spare you the details right now but I need to know if you’re in.” She said in a serious tone and one look into her eyes, Price knew she meant business.

She was tenacious, he liked that. She didn’t beat around the bush and waste his time with formalities or “politics”. Straight to the point and honest, he couldn’t fault her for that and despite the fact that she wanted to use her silly American words, he was open to working with her.

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice if she specifically came looking for him. If the job was that important, then there was nothing that would stop him from taking it, not if it meant there would be lives on the line.

“When?”

“My plane leaves in a few hours, we’ll debrief on the flight and then you’ll be shipped out the day after tomorrow.”

Price nodded and turned his attention back to the game as a long sigh left his chest. He should’ve felt more upset about the fact that he was being pulled away from his home after only being back for less than a day, but he had hardly given himself time to feel at home so it didn’t matter. 

From one job into another, that was his life, and yet when he met you everything became so much more than that.

The plane had touched down in Bosnia on a small base that the CIA occupied for the mission. It was a small operation for how much Laswell had built it up but no less dangerous; a war criminal on the loose, the need for capture to bring in alive, a simple job but Price knew better.

Nothing was ever simple.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had a simple mission, one that didn’t require him to be constantly vigilant. He wasn’t sure those existed, he couldn’t recall a single mission where he hadn’t nearly died, though he was sure there had to be at least one.

Everything had blurred together nowadays, days into weeks, into months, every mission became the same in his mind and the only thing that kept his head on straight was the paperwork detailing what happened.

Laswell led him into a small stuffy conference room, one that didn’t even have and instead had chairs set out as if they were in a classroom. It was only the two of them there and Price waited for the CIA agent to start but she didn’t.

Instead the door opened and in stepped you.

Price couldn’t help the way his eyebrows knitted together when he saw you walking in full gear just like him, ready for a mission. He almost hated to admit to himself that the first thought that went through his mind was that you looked far too soft to be in the military, let alone work on high profile jobs such as these.

He didn’t want to make assumptions, he’d much rather do that after he’s been able to watch you work, but he couldn’t help it when your eyes looked bright as you glanced from him to Laswell and a warm smile stretched across your face.

He had to deliberately ignore the way his chest warmed when he saw it.

“Sorry I’m late, Kate.”

“We’re still waiting for the others.” Laswell dismissed you with a smile of her own. “You and the lieutenant can acquaint yourselves in the meantime.”

The others? Price didn’t have much time to wonder or ask before his attention was taken by you as you stood in front of him practically beaming at him with only what he could assume to be admiration.

He found that all thoughts were forcibly taken from his mind as he sucked in his lips, glancing down at your own, and he grabbed the straps of his vest. 

Up this close, you were quite beautiful which caused him to mentally kick himself for being strange about someone he hadn’t even spoken to yet.

“You’re Lieutenant Price?” You asked and when he nodded your smile grew. “I’ve heard a lot about you, sir, and I’m excited to work with you.”

It took everything in him to hide the disgust he felt when the word sir fell out of your mouth.

You were being polite and respectful, something that many others who he’s met do and yet he didn’t like the way it sounded in your voice. There was something about it, something that put up a barrier he wasn’t sure he liked all that much, not when you seemed so friendly.

That was a stark contrast to many people who had met before, including Laswell. Everyone always approached him only with professionalism that he had gotten accustomed to the longer he worked in his field. 

Was this your first job? This wouldn’t be the first time that someone had paired him up with a rookie and he didn’t have an issue with being the one who would teach you the ropes on this mission if that were the case-

“I’m sergeant L/n.” You introduced yourself and his eyes widened slightly. “I don’t know if Kate has informed you but I’ll be your medic for this assignment.”

Price raised his eyebrows and nodded before he glanced at Laswell. He knew that this was serious but he didn’t realize he would need a medic for it and he couldn’t help but wonder just how bad this war criminal was. 

When he glanced back at you, he saw that there was a little more determination in your eyes than before but you still had that bright look on your face, something that he felt was entirely out of place.

You shouldn’t be in a place like this.

“Good to know I’m not working alone.” He gave you a quick smile. “M’sorry I wasn’t able learn more about you before this.”

“I only know so much because of your extensive medical records.” You gave him a playfully stern look that made him chuckle.

“I’ll try to be more careful this time.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll patch you up when you aren’t.”

Price felt his chest warm up as he found he was caught completely off guard by you once again. The look of confidence in your eyes didn’t help as you showed him just how much faith you had in your skills which made him feel a lot more comfortable, despite the fact that he hadn’t felt all that out of place before.

Your voice was warm and the smile on your face made him really believe that maybe this was a joke, that maybe you were brought here by accident despite the fact that you seemed to be well acquainted with Laswell. 

No other medic had even said that to him. It was a medic's job to make sure their team didn’t die if they sustained an injury and yet you had made it seem that it was so much more than that, even when you had just met him. 

He wanted to question you about it, about why you were so friendly, before you excused yourself to speak with Laswell. He was at a loss for words even as two other soldiers came in and the quick briefing started.

You sat next to him and when your knee touched his, he felt himself tense up as he fought back against the weird prickling feeling that came from it.

He glanced at you and for a moment he watched you pay careful attention to Laswell, undisturbed and focused like a soldier as if you hadn’t acted like a completely regular civilian. He studied your face, watching the way you took in the information that he barely processed because he was too focused on you.

As if sensing that he was staring at you, you glanced at him and before he could look away your eyes met. He felt like a creep for being so strange towards you but instead of giving him a look of disgust, you only gave him a shy smile before you looked back at Laswell with that same determined look on your face as before.

His heart skipped a beat and he forced himself to pay attention.

Bloody hell…

~

Price felt the burn of a bullet pierce his shoulder and he ducked behind the wall of the building he hid by. He huffed, gripping his gun tightly as he turned his attention to the area surrounding him while the sound of gunfire went off around him.

Nothing was ever simple.

Even when he and his group had cornered the war criminal in a small shop on an empty street. He had expected that he would give up when he realized that he was pinned and there was no way out.

Unfortunately, he should’ve expected that the man wouldn’t go down without a fight and that he had his own protection with him.

No one was dead. Any civilians around had left the scene and as far as Price knew he was the only one who had been hit by a stray bullet. His main focus was on the war criminal and making sure that he could capture him without killing him.

Price heard someone duck beside him and glanced back to see you, weapon ready as you provided some cover so he could reload his own.

“Is it lethal?” You fired a shot towards the store window, killing one of the other hostiles and ducked back behind cover.

“I’m good!” He grunted and ignored the pain as he raised his weapon to shoot as well. “We need to flank ’em!”

“Just say the word, lieutenant!”

Price kept his eyes on the war criminal and looked for an opening. That’s all he needed in order to get the job done without getting anyone killed, but currently he couldn’t move without the high chance of getting his head blown off.

Suddenly, there was a lull in the gunfire and just as he was about to give the order to move on the building, something flew through the air towards the both of you.

“Grenade!” He called out and grabbed you on instinct.

He pulled you to cover and hid you underneath him as the explosion went off. His attention immediately went back to the war criminal as he heard tires squealing and saw him speed away in a car.

He cursed and helped you up.

“We’ll chase him, the others can cut him off.” You tugged his vest and sprinted towards the humvee you came in together.

Price relayed the plan into the comms and followed right behind you, jumping into the driver side as he pushed the pedal to the floor to pursue the war criminal. It didn’t take long for him to catch up and he kept his distance as bullets began to ricochet off the hood of the humvee.

He tried to pick up his gun to shoot, but the bullet wound in his shoulder sent hot fiery pain that made him clench his jaw tightly.

“How good is your aim?” He glanced at you as you rolled down the window on the passenger side.

“If you keep us steady, I can get the tires.” You sounded confident and he nodded as he watched you pull your gun up.

You leaned out of the window and looked down the sights of your gun. You took a deep breath and fired two shots, the back two tires of the getaway car exploding with a loud pop before the broken wheels began to spark against the pavement. 

The car quickly spun out of control towards the humvee and Price pulled you back inside just as the front smashed into the side of the getaway car.

The two of you were jerked around as glass pieces flew through the air and you smack your head against the dash of the humvee. The getaway car screeched and bent from the crash as both vehicles slipped across the pavement before they came to an abrupt stop. 

Steam rose from the hood of the humvee and for a moment everything was still. 

Price’s heart was in his ears and he looked to you when you groaned, his eyes searching for any injuries as you held your head.

“You broken?” He asked and when you shook your head he gave out a quick sigh of relief.

“I’m good.” You huffed and swung the door open.

You jumped out of the car with your gun and raced towards the getaway car with Price in tow.

The other from your team showed up just as the both of you rounded to the front, and before anyone in the getaway car could grab their weapons or make a run for it, all weapons were pointed at them.

“Bravo Six to Watcher One, target is secured.” Price relayed the information into his comms as he caught his breath.

“A bird is coming your way for pick up.” Her voice came through the comms and he felt the adrenaline slowly leave his body.

Before Price knew it was back on the small base, watching as a select crew of highly trained individuals take the war criminal to the US.

He stood off to the side of the landing pad as the adrenaline still pumped through his veins. It took too long in his opinion for it to wear off and he could feel himself itching to find something to help ease it as he waited for Laswell to debrief him and tell him he can go home. 

Home. It should make him feel better, it should put him at ease and yet his eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw at the thought of having to go back to London. He knew he needed rest, once the adrenaline wore off he would feel the effects of his last deployment and the car crash, but he didn’t want to stop.

Not when there were more war criminals and people willing to harm innocents still out there.

Price huffed and gripped the strap of his vest before he went to make his way to Laswell.

“Lieutenant.” You called out behind him a little sternly and he felt his heart skip a beat. He stopped and turned around, seeing the serious look on your face which had him looking at you confused. 

You narrowed your eyes and gave him an incredulous look.

“Sergeant?” He questioned and you raised your eyebrow.

“I’d be a horrible medic if I let you walk away with a bullet in your shoulder.” You told him and his eyebrows widened.

He looked at his blood soaked shoulder, having completely forgotten about the injury until just now. He could already start to feel the aching sensation return and yet he couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t that big of a deal. “It’s alright-”

“Respectfully sir, I’ll drag you in if I have to.”

Price didn’t have the chance to cringe at the use of sir as he was too caught off guard by your threat. He felt a genuine smile pull at his lips as he looked at your face, seeing that you were serious and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

He shook his head and unsure of why he felt his chest warm again before he gestured for you to take the lead.

You nodded and soon you had him sitting on a spare bed in the same infirmary you threatened to force him to on base.

He watched you intently as you methodically gathered everything you needed, taking special note of the way you silently spoke the list of items that you needed to yourself before you instructed him to take his shirt off.

He managed to take his vest off, feeling a little relief that the heavyweight was off his shoulder but the moment he went to take off his shirt, pain erupted from the bullet wound and he grunted.

His shoulder was stiff and just barely moving had him feel as though he were about to rip off his entire arm. He’s had worse injuries, some that had forced him in a hospital bed for days, and yet this one seemed to be the most persistent.

Price tried again but he could hardly move his shoulder at all.

“Can I help?” You offered and he couldn’t look at you as he nodded without a word.

He felt a slight tinge of embarrassment as you helped him pull off his shirt with little pain to accompany it.

Once it was off, he felt a slight chill as he waited for more pain to follow as soon as you started to patch him up. He was used to the way that medics roughly handled the injuries in front of them, it was just the way things were, especially as the adrenaline was still coursing through their veins.

However, instead of being jostled around and manhandled by you, he felt your hand softly press against his wound with a piece of gauze to soak up any remaining blood. You were gentle as you cleaned it up, apologizing for the stinging from the antiseptic and for how cold he must be since he was shivering.

Shivering from your touch, but he couldn’t admit that to you.

Price couldn’t help but feel incredibly confused but also intrigued by you. At first he believed maybe you wouldn’t fare well on the battlefield but then he saw how efficient you were catching the war criminal.

You were the complete opposite now, treating his wound as if he were a child and touching him with a softness that he had left in Liverpool.

You were strange in the best way possible. You were experienced and a hell of a good shot which wasn’t something that came naturally to most, yet you didn’t boast or act prideful. You were back to that softness he had seen just hours before and he couldn't quite wrap his head around that.

You glanced at him, catching his inquisitive eyes and you quickly looked away from him as if you were startled to know that he was staring at you.

He didn’t miss the way a shy look spread across your face again which made his eyes immediately jump to your lips as he watched you work.

“Did I live up to your expectations?” You teased, seemingly having read his mind and his eyes widened.

Price’s frowned. He hadn’t realized it had been that obvious and it almost made him more embarrassed to realize that you must’ve felt the need to prove yourself to him.

He could only assume by the way that your eyes were devoid of that brightness that this wasn’t the first time someone had made you feel this way.

He couldn’t help the anger that boiled inside of him at the thought.

Anger at himself for being the same as the pricks who had most likely put you down your entire career considering you didn’t seem all that phased by it. 

How many times have you had to prove yourself? How many times did someone completely disregard you without giving you a chance?

Guilt bubbled up in his stomach and he clenched his jaw. He never wanted to be like them and yet he had done it to a good soldier who didn’t need to have the extra pressure on top of everything else.

“I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat, knowing that his face must be a few shades redder, especially when you gave him a sad smile. “It was incredibly unprofessional of me to make you think that I-”

“Lieutenant, it’s okay.” 

Price shook his head despite the sincere look on your face and grabbed your wrist to stop you. He stared into your eyes with a serious look, one that he hoped would change your mind, and found that for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

His eyes bounced around your face now that he had a chance to look at you properly, and saw every detail that made you, you.

He wasn’t sure why he found himself studying your face. Maybe it was because this would be the last time he’d ever see you and the thought of forgetting your face made him uneasy.

Though, he was sure he’d never forget you, especially when he noticed a small gash on your forehead he had completely missed.

From the car crash…brilliant first impression, he thought.

You stared at him expectantly but didn’t pull your hand away from him as his fingers burned into your skin. It felt as if you had stepped closer to him for a moment as you swallowed hard and your eyes flickered around his face while you gave him a surprised look.

The two of you stared at each other for a lot longer than what normal people did all because he just couldn’t think.

The more he stared, the harder it became to ignore the way his chest warmed as he drew a complete blank on what he was going to say to you. It took a moment for him to come to his senses, realizing that maybe it was a little strange for him to stare, before he finally cleared his throat.

“Really,” his voice barely above a whisper, soft and sincere. “I’m sorry.”

Price let his hand fall from yours, already missing the warmth of your steady pulse in his palm and sucked his lips into his mouth as he waited for you to answer.

He watched you stare at him as if he had grown three heads, as if no one had ever apologized to you so sincerely and it only made the anger inside of him bubble more. He held it in as you glanced away from him, uncertainty flashing across your eyes before you took a deep sigh.

You glanced back up at him with an appreciative look in your eyes that brought back some of the light that had him letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, sir.” Your voice was soft as you gave him a small smile.

“Price.”

A smile stretched across his face at the confused look on your face. He couldn’t help the little chuckle that escaped his mouth when you gave him a look of uncertainty, as if you were trying your hardest to figure out if he was joking or not.

“You don’t have to be that formal with me.” He added and your eyebrows knitted together.

“Is this a test or something?” The corners of your mouth twitched when he shook his head. “We only just met a few hours ago, Lieutenant.”

Price shrugged, or attempted to without injuring himself further, and watched as you gave him a genuine smile.

You were right of course, you were still practically strangers and yet he couldn’t help the feeling in his gut that he had seen enough from you to believe you were somebody he could trust. Somebody who he wanted to see again, to speak to again, and hopefully never have to truly say goodbye to.

He hoped you felt the same but no matter how long he stared into your eyes, the beautiful ones that twinkled with a sort of friendliness that stole his breath away, he couldn’t tell. 

All he could do was hope that you wouldn’t be repulsed with working with him again.

“You certainly live up to the stories, Price.” You said as you went back to patching him up with a smile.

“Stories?” He wondered and you nodded. “Hopefully not all bad, I’ve not heard about them until now.”

“They’re not. Promise.”

He was sure the two of you looked like idiots the way that you both grinned at each other. He wasn’t sure when the last time he had smiled so genuinely yet he didn’t mind the ache in his cheeks at all. His attention was on you as you continued to patch him up, completely enthralled by you and your presence alone.

“Shame I haven’t heard anything about you.” He watched you raise an amused eyebrow.

“There’s nothing to say.” You scoffed and he grumbled.

After all he had seen today not only on the field but now as you treated him so gently, he had to disagree.

You had to be one of the best combat medics he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. It was a disservice to you that no one seemed to know who you were or know about your skills, save for him and Laswell.

You finished patching him up, carefully examining your hand work with a proud twinkle in your eyes that completely enraptured him.

“Then I’ll say something.” He spoke before he could even think.

You snorted and gave him a look as if you thought he was joking.

However, even with the fact that he had let that slip out, he was serious about saying something good about you if this mission ever came up in the future, and gave you a look that showed he meant it

There was nothing that would stop him from letting your expertise be known to anyone who would listen.

“Are you always this nice to your medics?” You wondered as you began packing up your equipment.

“Yes-“

Price stopped you and grabbed the few items he needed before he started to clean the gash on your head.

He didn’t miss the way your eyes widened and the flustered look on your face as he made quick work to patch you up. You opened your mouth to say something and attempted to step away from him, but he quickly grabbed your elbow to stop you, making you forget about any of the words you might’ve said.

His fingertips felt like they were on fire as he touched your skin and he tried his hardest to push down the good feeling that he had in his stomach. He was sure that his cheeks had turned a few shades darker and he avoided looking at you in hopes that maybe you wouldn’t notice.

“-but I think I need to make it up to you for acting like a muppet.”

When he pulled away, you touched the small bandage on your head with delicate fingers and gave him a grateful smile.

There was a sort of fondness in your eyes when you looked at him, something that was a lot warmer than anything he ever could’ve imagined coming from someone he had worked with and it left him feeling lighter.

“You don’t have to do anything.” You told him with a giggle that made his heart skip a beat. “Even if you are a muppet.”

Price grinned at your imitation of him and you had a proud look in your eyes, something that was much better than the sad look you had just earlier. He hoped you were telling the truth or else he was willing to do just about anything to make it up to you.

He slipped his shirt back on, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he did so, before you handed him a few pain meds. He sent you a thankful nod as he took them and that was when he spotted the clock on the wall in the small infirmary. 

The smile fell from his face when he realized that he had to go back home soon and that heavy feeling came back. He clenched his jaw and a soft sigh escaped his chest before he glanced at you.

He had a bad taste in his mouth. He didn’t want to say goodbye to you, not yet. 

“When do you go back?” He wondered and you gave him a tired smile.

“They’ve got me on a few more assignments before I can go home.” You stated matter of factly and yet Price couldn’t help the sympathetic feeling he got in his stomach. “I wasn’t the one who was rudely interrupted during a game.”

“It wasn’t that entertaining…”

The words were stuck in his throat as he watched you pack up the rest of your items and put them back on your vest as you mentally counted the list of items you still had left. 

He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous speaking to you, why all of the sudden his entire confidence as a leader had disappeared when it came to you, but it made the prospect of saying goodbye a lot worse than it should’ve.

You both were soldiers, that’s how this job was. 

“You’re not at all tired?” He wondered and you scoffed. 

“I didn’t say that.” You gave him a soft pat on his good arm before you gestured for him to walk with you. “But when you’re one of the most needed people on the battlefield, you don’t get to rest that often.”

Price hummed and nodded, knowing a little bit about what that might feel like considering his reputation.

He followed you outside of the infirmary, trying his hardest to come up with something more to say to keep the conversation going, just so he could talk to you for a little while longer but he couldn’t think of anything.

The two of you made it back to the tarmac and he sighed heavily when he saw the helicopter that was meant for him.

“I find that going on walks helps.” You said softly and his eyebrows knitted when he looked at you.

You gave him an empathetic smile. One that showed a sort of softness that made his chest feel lighter and made him want to prolong his departure even more.

“When you work with injured soldiers you learn the signs.” You explained and he sucked in his lips when he realized that you were actually seeing him. “It’s in your eyes.”

He wasn’t sure how he could feel more compelled to be around you but knowing that you saw John Price and not ‘the Lieutenant Price’, made him feel incredibly vulnerable but in the safest way possible. He was almost relieved that you saw past his ranking and the stories that seemed to travel through the special forces all around the world. 

It almost made him feel more at peace.

You placed a comforting hand on his arm, causing him to tense up slightly and step closer to you. He stared deep into your eyes again, studying everything about them so he could hope to remember them when you were gone.

“Walks, eh?” He repeated softly and nodded, causing you to give him a light squeeze. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Doc.”

You grinned and pulled your hand away from him, fidgeting with your fingers as you shook your head with that same flustered look on your face you had earlier.

“You know, strangely no one’s called me that before.” You chuckled and he hummed as he heard the sound of the helo turning on.

“Well, then I get the honor of being the first one.” He smiled when he saw the twinkle in your eyes. “I’ll make sure it sticks.”

“How generous of you.”

Price chuckled and tried his hardest to ignore the pit in his stomach as he realized there was nothing he could do to stop him going home. He could only hope that one day he’d be able to work with you again if Laswell ever needed him to clean up another mess. 

Maybe she would assign you with him if that happened. Maybe she would listen to him if he personally requested to have you on the team with him whenever she inevitably did call him again.

“Thanks, Doc.” He nodded to you as he began to make his way to the helo.

“Take care of yourself and don’t get shot! I won’t be there to patch you up.” You jokingly called out to him and he laughed.

Price was done for the moment he laid eyes on you.

Tags: @cathnoneofyourbusiness @lillianastuff @sofasoap

A/N: AHHHHHHHH it's finally out and i'm so excited and nervous. I hope you guys like it because it has a very special place in my heart

[livinginshambles]

Preview: I thought you'd be different | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Summary: A Cinderella Story, but Hogwarts. (Enemies? to lovers)

Notes: Sorry I've been mia; i wrote this today, it's all I have so the full fic will probably take a while, not proofread, mistakes blah blah, enjoy!

PS. I am currently no longer making a taglist because I can't keep up with it, I'm really sorry!

Masterlist. Taglist

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

You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory.

That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you closed your eyes.

“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what you sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.

“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.

But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.

You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments.

A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.

“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard.

“Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”

“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eyeroll, but seemed unphased.

“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step.

To be petty or not to be petty, you sighed and rolled your eyes.

“10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you decided.

The two marauders started to protest.

“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” It effectively shut them up, and with a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.

When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.

You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.

James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner.

He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air. Of course, levitating stuff wasn't that strange, but it had intrigued him nonetheless.

James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl who was crying on a bench under the tree, appeared.

James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams.

(Credits to Professor McGonagall who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.)

It’s beautiful.

You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.

Full fic

[bumblesimagines]

The Wolf's Guard

Request: Yes or No

Summary: The love between a wolf and their darling is unbreakable, even if that darling is a Bolton.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

~~~

If the Starks were known for anything, it was their honor, duty, and family values. Everyone in all of Westeros knew it, from the poor to the rest of the Great Houses, as many had bore witness to those traits at play. The wolves of the north, the pack that'd once been called Kings, had bent the knee willingly during Aegon's Conquest and from then on, were known as Wardens of the North.

The glorious House Stark of Winterfell. Robb still vividly remembered the days in which he and his bastard brother, Jon Snow, were taught the history of their ancestors. Brandon the Boisterous, Cregan Stark, Rodwell Stark, Rickard Stark... Robb knew their names well, knew the significance of their importance to his bloodline. They were his ancestors, warriors with wolf's blood coursing through their veins, and blood that ran through his. Just like them, Robb is heir to Winterfell, the firstborn son of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Stark. And while Robb's heart valued honor, duty, and family over all else, there were times when he wished he hadn't been born first.

The first time he took his mind off his duty as heir (a duty everyone constantly reminded him of every waking moment) was when Roose Bolton brought his second-born son, (Y/N) Bolton, to Winterfell when they were children to become a ward under Eddard Stark. He'd heard about the stories and rumors surrounding the family and their ancestral home, the Dreadfort. Their history was as lengthy as the Starks, with their own ancestors having been once called the Red Kings. While Starks were honorable, Boltons were cruel, cunning, and dishonorable with a tradition of flaying their enemies that they were forced to give up upon being bannermen for the Starks. However, there were rumors they still flayed their prisoners after days and weeks of torture.

Robb and Jon exchanged whispers while their father spoke with Roose Bolton, an unremarkably ordinary-looking man despite the eerie aura that surrounded him and his sons. His eyes were striking, a color so pale and odd that they made shivers run down the spines of the two boys when he looked in their direction. But the prickle of uneasiness that poked at Robb vanished when (Y/N) looked toward him. Jon immediately ducked behind the barrel they'd chosen to hide behind but Robb held his gaze and was rewarded with a grin. 

"Robb," His father had called out, "Come."

Robb immediately obeyed, jumping out from behind the barrel and striding over to his brother. At the age of seven, Robb knew his place as heir very well so he made every attempt at showing everyone the manners and way of nobles he'd been taught. Ned placed a comforting hand over his shoulder and smiled down at his son. "Why don't you show (Y/N) around Winterfell, Robb? His father and I have much to discuss." 

"Yes, Father." Robb nodded, his auburn curls bouncing off his forehead. Domeric Bolton, eldest son of Roose and heir to the Dreadfort, similarly set his hand over his younger brother's shoulder. (Y/N) peered up at his father and then at his brother, lingering even after Roose gave him an approving nod. 

"Go on," Domeric murmured gently and (Y/N) looked back at Robb with a growing smile. 

Robb spent the rest of the day showing (Y/N) around Winterfell, his chest puffing out with pride each time (Y/N) seemed impressed about something. Jon and Theon trailed after them, providing input that (Y/N) largely ignored in favor of giving Robb his full attention, something surprisingly made him squirm. He finished the tour by introducing (Y/N) to his mother and his younger sister, Sansa. Catelyn greeted (Y/N) politely, more kindly than she treated Jon at least, and offered to get some sweets for them after dinner while Sansa clung to her skirts and watched them.

It wasn't until a few days later, when the boys were giggling on a stack of haybale after their latest mischief that Robb had a thought that would continue to emerge: 'I wish he were a girl.'

As they grew and reached their fifteenth name days, they both began showcasing the faithful traits of their house. Robb grew gentler, less mischievous, and showed a strong sense of honor. He continued reading his histories and studied faithfully under the septa, training nearly every day with Ser Rodrick Cassel and accompanying his father whenever he ventured out on hunts or to meet with others. (Y/N) seemingly grew a taste for blood, something that emerged during training. He went easier on Robb than the others, incredibly apparent as Theon and Jon would end up bruised and bloody by the end of each session. But despite Theon's complaints and Jon's worries about (Y/N) fatally injuring someone, Robb could never shake the astonished, fluttery feeling whenever he saw (Y/N). 

"Come on, boy," Ser Rodrick called to the staggering Jon and Robb couldn't help but wince at the trickle of blood going down his nose. Jon wiped it away, his black hair clinging to his dirt-speckled sweaty face. Nobody had to look at Theon to know the boy likely looked pale as winter snow. (Y/N) pointed the - thankfully - wooden sword at Jon and cocked his head to the side, a wide grin across his face. 

"What's wrong, Snow?" (Y/N) taunted, and Jon glared at him, throwing aside his sword and marching right up to (Y/N). The Bolton laughed when Jon grabbed the sides of his chest armor, his teeth digging into his bottom lip before he rammed the end of the sword into Jon's temple. Jon cursed loudly and released him to grab the side of his head, the blow working as intended when (Y/N) slammed his foot into Jon's chest piece and knocked him back. 

"I believe that's enough, aye, lad?" Robb straightened up at the sound of his father's voice, craning his neck to watch Ned step out of the nearby building and approach them with a grimace. He gently clapped the back of (Y/N)'s shoulder to congratulate him, his eyes remaining locked on his bastard son's panting form. "Go see Maester Luwin, Jon."

"May I have a word in private, Lord Stark?" Ser Rodrick asked, earning a curt nod in response. (Y/N)'s eyes followed the two older men as they walked further away from them, their voices drowned out by the hustle and bustle of servants working and guests chatting. His lips formed a noticeable pout, one that made Robb chuckle as he helped take the chest piece off him. 

"They're going to send me home." (Y/N) muttered bitterly.

"They won't," Robb assured him, handing the piece off to a nearby servant and giving them a thankful smile. (Y/N) huffed, the air coming out in a small cloud, and he tossed the sword aside into the dirt beside them. Robb caught a brief look at the knitted brow, sullen expression on his face before (Y/N) turned on his heel and stormed away. Immediately, Robb followed without a second thought, keeping his eyes focused on the boy until they reached the Godswood. 

"Leave me alone, Robb." (Y/N) muttered grumpily, slumping down on the ground beside the water and roughly tugging blades of grass from the ground. 

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," Robb responded, taking a seat beside him and gazing out into the water. The Godswood had always been a place to seek peace or advice from the Old Gods, a place Robb could visit to clear his mind or simply escape for a brief moment. (Y/N) pursed his lips and Robb smiled, pressing his fingertip against (Y/N)'s cheek and gigging softly when he swatted at his hand. "Come on, tell me." 

"Nobody here likes me. They're scared of me." (Y/N) said quietly, tugging more grass out of the dirt. "Lord Eddard is going to send me home to the Dreadfort, I know he is. Father's going to be mad at me but at least Dom will be there."

Robb stared at him, noticing the way he pressed his lips together to stop them from quivering. "I like you." He revealed softly and (Y/N) tilted his head toward him, eyes flickering between Robb's vibrant blue eyes. Robb's stomach twisted and turned, heat rising up his neck and covering his ears like fire. 

"How much?"

"A lot." He admitted, the branches above them gently rustling together with the wind. The sound eased his nerves, eased the dread threatening to bubble up and consume him. "If you were a lady, I would ask Father to let us wed."

(Y/N)'s lips curled up at that. "The Old Gods do not care if we're both men, Robb." He reminded him, that familiar grin working its way onto his face. Robb smiled again, setting his hand over (Y/N)'s and putting an end to his constant grass tearing. "Would you kill for me, Robb?"

"To protect you, yes," Robb answered immediately, no poundering needed. He'd kill to protect any of his loved ones. His parents, Jon, Theon, Sansa, little Arya and Bran. His father spilled blood for his late sister, Lyanna, during the rebellion and Robb doubted his father wouldn't do it all over again for her. "Would you?"

"If you asked." Then, (Y/N) leaned forward and clumsily mushed their lips together, sending a jolt down Robb's spine and a heat throughout his face. He'd kissed a young lady once or twice in secret and out of curiosity but despite his brief experience, he moved nervously and just as clumsily. 

Things rapidly changed from then on, behind closed doors at least. To the servants and residents of Winterfell, the two remained the same close friends as always, but away from prying eyes and curious ears, they were inseparable lovers. Robb's lingering stares grew and any ladies his mother asked him about were brushed away for one excuse or another. The sneaking around, the subtle touches, and innocent gestures, it was all exciting for them but Robb grew to prefer how hungry (Y/N) always seemed for him. It felt good to be wanted, felt good when he whispered loving confessions and laughed at (Y/N)'s eye rolls and flustered smiles. 

Until, as quickly as their relationship began, they were just as quickly swept away from each other. 

Not long after (Y/N) sixteenth name day, news arrived at Winterfell of Domeric Bolton's death. An illness in the stomach, the first letter from Maester Uthor read, but the letter from Roose informed him of a new family member who'd potentially caused the death of his brother: a half-brother by the name of Ramsay Snow—a bastard of the North. With Domeric dead, the title of heir fell on (Y/N)'s shoulders and took him away from Winterfell and back to the Dreadfort. Jon and Theon eased with his absence but Robb's heart broke into pieces. As a secondborn, (Y/N) could do as he pleased and remain by Robb's side forever if he wished, but as an heir?

As much as his absence pained him, Robb ensured to write (Y/N) many letters, most with secret messages only the two of them could understand. He detailed any events that'd gone on, small or big, silly or tragic. He wrote to him about the pups found by Jon and the one he'd claimed, about the royal visit at Winterfell and his father's new position as Hand, Jon joining the Night's Watch, the saddening news of his sister's wolf being killed. The letters stopped when Lord Robb Stark of Winterfell called the bannermen to war. 

Robb focused on the war, on avenging his father and bringing his beloved sisters home before they could be harmed by the Lannisters. The Bolton's joined the effort, of course, but Robb hardly saw (Y/N) during the start. They both had their duties, their own men to command, and many more things to worry about. But, the reunion had Robb nearly collapsing. 

He'd seen him, caught a brief glance during a battle with Lannister's army. It'd been enough to make him fight even harder, and they'd won in the end, returning back to camp to treat their wounded and count the dead. Robb had been swept away, his new title as King of the North forcing even more responsibilities onto his lap, but he managed to keep his racing mind focused enough to manage the tasks at hand, nearly forgetting about the glimpse until that night. 

Dragging the wet rag over his sword, Robb thought about his father. He thought about all the things Ned would say to him, the advice he'd give to him. His father knew of battles and rebellions, he knew of war. Robb only knew what he learned as the war progressed. Sure, there were many older men who'd fought alongside his father, who still had the taste of war in their mouths, but none would compare to the knowledge of Eddard Stark. He sighed quietly, gazing over his reflection and failing to hear the person entering his tent. 

"King of the North, aye? Has a pretty ring to it." He tensed immediately, first due to surprise and then because of that familiar voice. His head whirled around, eyes wide and heart pleading. (Y/N) grinned at him, splatters of blood still covering his skin and clothes from a battle the Boltons and few others had ridden out to, but it suited him perfectly. The sword fell with a loud clatter and Robb darted up from his seat, unable to restrain himself from flying into (Y/N)'s embrace. "Missed me, hm?" He laughed.

"Of course, I missed you, you bastard." Robb exhaled, leaning back to grasp the sides of his face, disregarding the blood that smeared onto his palms before he crashed their lips together. An almost animalistic growl-like noise emitted from (Y/N) throat and he kissed him back more roughly, as were most things with (Y/N). The Bolton backed him up until Robb fell back onto the bed, briefly knocking the air out of him. (Y/N) hovered above him, eyes glinting with a familiar look that sent heat rushing to his stomach.

"Sorry 'bout Lord Eddard, Robb." He murmured, dipping down to brush his lips over Robb's cheek and down to his throat where he dug his teeth lightly into him. 

"I heard of your half-brother, (Y/N)." Robb sighed again, the familiarity of it all making him lightheaded. His beloved had always been all tongue and teeth. (Y/N) snorted softly into his throat, a short chuckle leaving him at the mention of Ramsay's demise. He'd died in his sleep, or so Lord Bolton had said. 

"Never liked him, anyway." (Y/N) told him, rising back up to press their lips tightly together, teeth digging into Robb's bottom lip and tugging lightly. "I have news, Robb."

"Can it wait?" Robb knew the answer but he hoped pulling (Y/N) closer would change his mind. (Y/N) chuckled again and moved his hips, a lazy smirk spreading across his face when Robb cursed softly under his breath and reached down to fumble with their pants. 

"No, My King."

"Gods, you're the worst."

A sadistic little bastard but Robb loved him anyway. (Y/N)'s amusement faded away and he inhaled heavily, planting his hands on the sides of Robb's head and staring down at him. The seriousness made Robb straighten up, despite their rather compromising position, and he nodded for (Y/N) to continue. "My father plans on betraying you, Robb. Your rejection of Walder Frey's girls gave way for Father. He plans on marrying one of his daughters for an alliance. He wants to kill you." Robb's blood ran icy cold. War always had its fair share of traitors and cowardly, slimy men.

"Are you certain?" Robb sat up in the bed, forcing (Y/N) to lean back and stand again. A traitor in their midst and Walder Frey's ego. Two problems Robb hardly had time to deal with. (Y/N) reached out, fingers dipping under Robb's chin and tilting his head up.

"Give me your command and I'll bring his head to you by early morrow." 

[footiehoefics]

Another one?

Hi! The dad Mase fic won (ofc) so here it is! I promised i would post a fic before I left for trip so I doubt I will be able to post another one on the weekend but I will leave you with this one! :) I hope you enjoy it! TW:non, Angst/Fluff, 3.7k words. My last fic is here! and my masterlist here!

gif: @doinggreat

“I feel like Miles has grown so much since I last saw him” you heard Lauren say to you while she had your baby boy on her lap.

“I know, it’s been so long since we’ve seen you guys.” you told her, sad that it had been way too long for liking not seeing Lauren, Declan and their son Jude. “Jude also looks like a big boy now I can’t believe it.” Lauren smiled at you, placing Miles back on your lap. 

It had been a nice evening, you had made the drive down to London for 2 days to pick up some stuff from your old house. You wanted to stay a couple days to catch up with Lauren, Dec and some other friends as well. You felt like you hadn’t socialized with anyone ever since you moved to Manchester 3 months ago. 

You had been busy taking care of Miles, making sure you had everything you would need in the new house, unpacking everything and buying a bunch of stuff. Of course Mason had helped you, but when he was at training it was all you. You didn’t complain though. This was the life you had always wanted. Being a mother and having the love of your life as your husband. 

It wasn’t the best start for Mason and the team but he had you and he had Miles to comfort him. 

Miles was 2 years old and he was the best thing that has ever happened to both of you. In all honesty, he was not planned. You remember vividly how you found out you were pregnant. You were scared about having a child, about the whole pregnancy and especially about what Mason would say. Both of you were not married at the time so having children together was not something you saw in the near future. However, when you finally told him, Mason assured you he fully wanted this with you and no one else. 

He was so excited about being a dad. He would read books about fatherhood, he would talk to your bump every single night, before every game and after every game no matter if it was a bad game or a good game.  

It melted your heart, seeing him put so much effort and taking this very seriously, not just winging it. Besides the excitement and all the research he did, he also took amazing care of you. 

The pregnancy was hell, to put it lightly. The first couple of months felt almost the same as normal. The only thing you felt sometimes was fatigue and you felt like you got tired very easily.

 When your bump started showing more and you were further along, that’s when things started getting rough. Puking every morning, sometimes at the crack of dawn. Mason would have to hop in the shower with you because of the dizzy you got. Your emotions were all over the place. Swollen feet. Backache. You felt like every side effect you had read about, you had it. 

Mason hated seeing you unhappy some days because of your pregnancy. It was supposed to be one of the most beautiful experiences in your life and it was the complete opposite. Every day you could not wait to pop that baby out and he knew that. 

When he had away games, that is when he felt helpless and felt awful for leaving you. You also hated it. You missed him but you also needed him. What if you got so dizzy you fainted in the shower? What if you can’t put your shoes on because the huge belly was on the way? What if you couldn’t roll over the bed to go throw up or pee at night? 

There were a lot of things he helped you with and when he was away it scared you. Luckily his mom would visit him frequently and help a lot. You were lucky your friends also didn’t live far away, you could count on them if you need to. 

“Is this handsome boy getting a sibling any time soon?” Lauren cooed at Miles and smirked at you. 

“Jesus” you laughed at her comment. 

Having another baby was definitely not on your list after your pregnancy. The thought of going through nine months of hell again, scared the shit out of you. Especially now with a 2 year old. 

“Declan and I are already trying for the second one.” Lauren spoke up again, smiling. 

“Trying for what?” you heard your husband say, approaching you, Lauren and the babies in the living room. 

“Another baby of course.” Lauren said, looking at him. 

“Oh wow, you just openly say you and Declan are having sex all the time?” Mason responded, making you roll your eyes and laugh. 

“Oh my god, don’t be rude in front of the kids.” Lauren replied, laughing along with you. 

“Anyways enough about my sexual life with Dec when are you two having another cutie like this?” Lauren said, pinching Miles' cheek. 

“Wow why are we talking about our sex life?” Declan said right after Lauren. 

Lauren’s question made you uncomfortable. You had not talked about this with Mason. You knew he wanted more than one kid, and he knew you wanted more than one kid too. However, after being pregnant with Miles that changed a little, and you never mentioned it to your husband. 

“It’s not about sex, I’m asking when they are planning on giving Miles a little baby sister or brother.” Lauren replied, taking the tea Declan had just made her. 

“We need to start soon, I don’t want them to have a big age gape.” Mason said, as if it was the obvious answer. 

You were still silent, not wanting to say anything yet. This conversation had to be between you and Mason. 

“Yea, that’s why Lauren and I started trying a couple months ago.” Declain told you, laying back on the couch so he could get comfortable with his son. 

Mason placed his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. “We can start trying tonight…” he whispered in your ear so only you could hear his comment. You smiled a little, but not convincingly, and Mason caught that. 

“Babe, you know what I heard is not good to eat when you're pregnant? Papaya, I read it today.” Lauren said to you. “We don’t have to eat it when we get pregnant again.” You didn’t like how everyone was just assuming you were going to get pregnant again. If someone were to ask you right now, you would immediately reject it. 

“Well that’s if we have another baby…” you said whispering the last part. “You don’t want Miles to have a sibling?” Lauren asked.

“I mean, no…I um-” you got uncomfortable again. You didn't want this to turn into a discussion with Mason right and you could see from the corner of your eye he had a confused look on his face. “I just I’m not thinking about that right now you know?” you finally replied. Lauren noticed you got uncomfortable so she changed the subject. 

Mason removed his arm from your shoulders and headed to the kitchen to grab a drink. He was confused, he thought you always wanted more than one kid. Why would you change your mind now? The thought of you not wanting more kids was eating his mind up for the rest of the night. He was not as talkative and cheerful as he was 30 minutes ago. 

Once it got a bit late and Miles was on the verge of falling asleep, you decided to go back to the hotel you were staying. The drive wasn’t long but the entirety of it was silent. 

It was awkward between you both and there was tension. You didn’t know how to start that conversation but you knew you had to. You were also staying at a hotel, it wasn’t like you could just avoid each other. Miles had his little bed in the suite and then it was your space, that was it. If the conversation ended up being an argument, you could not just leave to the guest room and sleep there or cool off downstairs in the kitchen. 

You got back and noticed Miles was already asleep in his car seat. You carefully grabbed him out of the car and carried him to your room while Mason grabbed your purse and Miles’ bag. 

Once you got to your suite, you carefully placed Miles on his bed, making sure there were enough pillows around him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead. 

Still radio silence between you and your husband. You turned on the lamp beside your baby’s bed and headed towards the bathroom. You started by taking your clothes off, putting your pj’s on and then doing your skincare routine. Once you were applying your last product, you saw from the corner of your eye Mason entering the bathroom. You couldn’t read his face. 

He came up to you, hugging you from behind. You melted at his touch. You both hated being at odds with one another and giving each other the silent treatment. 

“Can we talk?” Mase whispered in your ear. You nodded your head and turned around to face him. 

“I’m sorry it was awkward today, I just didn’t know what to say…” you replied looking at him. 

“It’s not your fault babe…” he told you. “I’m just confused, I mean I thought having another baby was in the cards for us and that we were on the same page.” 

“Mason” you sighed, closing your eyes, dreading to tell him how you really felt about it. 

“Have you changed your mind?” he asked you, again confused. 

“I mean, I don’t know, maybe? Being pregnant was really hard, it wasn’t like what i thought it would be and what people told me it would be like. I don’t know if I want to go through that again.” you said, with a sad expression on your face. 

“Baby, pregnancy was never gonna be easy…and I will be there for you again, like I was with Miles.” 

You understood his point, but it bothered you that he didn't get yours.

“I know Mase but, it’s also just not the right time. We just moved to Manchester and Miles is getting bigger by the second. It was kind of easy to cope the first time because he was our first child. But what about now? I can’t just decide to nap in the middle of the day if I get dizzy, I have Miles.” you explained to him. 

“My mom can drive up for a couple of days each month-” he tried saying before you cut him off. 

“Mason, stop. We can’t have your mom driving every couple of days just to help me.” you said getting irritated he was not getting your point. 

He let go of your waist and stepped back a little, noticing your change in mood. 

“I'm trying to offer solutions Y/n.” he replied more sternly. “We had always said we wanted a big family, we promised each other that-” 

“Yea but people change their minds okay?!” you said, raising your voice a bit more.

Mason walked towards the bathroom door to shut it. He didn’t want your argument to wake up Miles. 

“We both grew up with siblings and we both know how much we needed them and how much fun it was, we really won’t give that life to Miles?” he asked you, with more frustration in his voice. 

He was right. Your siblings meant the world to you. You always dreamed of creating that little family and your kids having the same dynamic you had with your siblings. 

“Do you think I’m so selfish that I don’t want to give that life to him? Of course I want to, but I don’t know if I can go through that again, do you understand? You weren’t passing out in the shower, you weren’t getting crazy mood swings, you weren’t throwing up everyday, you didn’t feel tired all day, you weren’t carrying a 7lbs baby in your tummy.” you replied more annoyed. 

“Yea, but I was there in the shower with you, I was giving you back rubs and belly rubs, I was holding your hair up and getting you all the medicines you needed for your dizziness and nausea, I was making sure you were okay every single second of the day. Don’t you dare make this as if it was only you. I understand my body is not the one that changes, but I was part of it too. I was there helping you through everything and I want to do it again because you are my wife and the mother of my son and I love you more than anything.” he said, almost without taking a break to breathe. 

You never liked when he snapped at you, it was rare. You felt awful for now for making him feel like he wasn’t a part of it. He was the best help you could’ve asked for. The best daddy and partner. He made you feel like the sexiest woman ever when you were pregnant even though you felt like you were a whale. 

“I am trying here okay? We can go to the doctors and ask what to do so you don’t go through the same things next time, we can hire someone to help us around with Miles, Anouska and Luke are our neighbors they can help, there are so many ways we can go about this but you have this tunnel vision in your head that it will be the worst experience of your life. I want to make it easy for you, but you just won’t let me.” 

Mason hated raising his voice at you but he wanted you to understand how he could help this time and other people could too. 

It made you tear up a bit. You didn’t want to upset him. He opened the bathroom door to go back to the suite, leaving you with a lump on your throat and teary eyes. 

You dried the tears on your face and went back to the suite. All the lights were off except Miles' little lamp he had to have beside his bed because he was scared of the dark. 

Mason was already laying down on the bed not facing your side. You hated sleeping like this. Not being cuddled up to him. He was pissed and you respected it by giving him his space. 

—-

Did you sleep well last night? Absolutely not. Miles woke up twice, and you felt nauseous the whole night. You didn’t know if it was that feeling of guilt or hurt from your argument with Mason or if it was actually nausea. 

When you opened your eyes, you could see the sun peeking through the curtains. Mason was still not facing you. 

You suddenly felt the urge to throw up. You got up from bed quickly and ran to the bathroom. Your footsteps woke up Mason, making him turn around and see you were not by his side anymore. 

He was confused, but then he heard you in the bathrooms and knew you were sick. 

He got up quickly and rushed to the bathroom to help you. He didn’t care about last night, you were his wife and he needed to help you and make sure you were okay. 

“You okay baby?” your husband asked you, kneeling down and holding up your hair.

“I’m fine, I don't know why I got nauseous.” you replied.

You flushed the toilet and stood up to brush your teeth. Mason still had a concerned look on his face and didn't leave the bathroom until he knew you were 100% okay.  

“I’m okay Mase, I promise.” you told him, turning around to look at him. 

Even though you were not on good terms, he leaned in and kissed your cheek. 

“I’ll shower so we can get going.” he said to you.

You opened up the curtains and woke your baby up to get him ready for the road trip ahead. 

—-

The whole drive back to Manchester was not as awkward as yesterday, but there wasn’t much conversation between you and Mason. 

You used it to think about everything. You felt like you were overthinking but, after connecting the dots, feeling nauseous, throwing up in the morning, your period was supposed to come in today, you started thinking you might be pregnant. 

You and Mason weren’t exactly avoiding pregnancy. You weren’t on birth control and sometimes you didn’t use a condom. Of course there was a possibility of you being pregnant. 

—-

“Can you pull over here please?” you asked your husband.

“You okay? Do you need to throw up?” he was concerned now. 

“No, no I just need to pee and I’ll get something for Miles.” 

Mason pulled over and you got out of the car, making sure you took your purse with you as well. 

You did need to pee but you wanted to also buy a pregnancy test. The thought and curiosity you had was eating you alive you just wanted to know. 

You bought what you needed, bought Miles a little snack and headed back to the car. 

You were already only 20 minutes away from your home so soon enough you would find out. 

—-

You got back to your house safe and sound. Miles was awake by the time you got there so it was perfect timing. 

You got him out the car seat, brought him inside the house and placed him on his play set in the living room to keep him entertained while you and Mason unpacked everything else from his car. 

It was still very weird between you two. It felt weird not talking to him and joking around. 

Once everything was unpacked, he closed the door and followed you to the living room where your son was. 

“Can we stop doing this?” Mason said out loud, making your head turn to him. 

“Stop what…?” you asked back

“Not talking to each other? Ignoring each other?”

You paused for a minute, thinking of what to say to him. You felt his stare. 

“I think I’m pregnant…” you mumbled. 

“What?” Mason asked, he clearly did not hear you since you said it almost just to yourself. 

“I think I’m pregnant.” you replied, this time looking up at him. 

He knelt down to the ground so you were face to face. You were sitting on the couch with your hand on your lap. 

“Are you serious? Or is this just a joke?” he was confused.

“I’m serious, I really think I am” you said with a concerned look on your face. 

He was just looking at you, taking in what you said. What if after last night something changed for him as well? 

You started tearing up a bit. 

“That’s why I asked you to pull over, to buy this,” you told him, pulling out the pregnancy test out of your purse. “I didn’t know what you would think after last night.” tear spilling from your eyes. 

“Come here baby.” he grabbed your hand and placed them over his shoulders so he could hug you. 

You hugged him back tightly, tears still falling and gentle sobs coming out of your mouth. 

“I’m sorry Mase,” you sniffed and pulled back from the hug to look at him and apologize. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you weren’t a part of it, and I’m sorry for upsetting you.” he was looking at you with a sad face. He didn’t want you to feel like shit because of an argument. 

“I don’t want to disappoint you, I’m scared of having another baby. I promise you having our little family is the most important thing to me, I just felt overwhelmed, I don’t want it to go the way it did before.” 

He grabbed your face with his hands, wiping the tears with his fingers. 

“You will never disappoint me, my love.” he told you looking into your eyes.

“It’s okay to be scared babe, I’m scared too.” he said, chuckling a bit making you smile lightly. 

“If you are pregnant, we go through it together yea? We are a team and I will be here for anything that you need okay?” 

You nodded your head. He leaned in and kissed you. 

“I’m sorry too about yesterday, I don’t like arguing with you.” he told you once he broke the kiss. 

“I know.” you whispered and kissed him again. 

“You should take the test…” Mason suggested. You nodded your head and headed to the powder room near the living room. Mason stayed with Miles, watching over him and waiting anxiously for the result. 

You came out of the bathroom with the test covered. “Okay we have to wait 5 minutes.” you told him, sitting down again on the sofa. 

Mason sat down next to you, pulling towards him so you were cuddled up. 

It was 5 minutes of silence. The only thing you could hear was Mason’s heart beat and Miles playing with his toys. 

Your timer went off and you immediately got off Mason. 

You uncovered the test, “PREGNANT” it read. 

You smiled with tears in your eyes and turned around to look at Mason. By the look on your face he knew it was positive. 

He pulled you back and hugged you tighter than he ever had before.

“We are having another baby” he said to you. 

“Yes we are.” 

You were still hugging, both with tears on your faces. 

Once you pulled apart, you saw miles just staring at you both making you laugh. 

“Look mate,” he told him while holding up the pregnancy test “mommy’s pregnant.” 

“Baby?” Miles mumbled 

“Yes!” you chuckled. “Here in my belly” you told him, touching your belly. Miles wobbled towards you and touched your belly smiling. “Baby” he repeated, making your heart melt. 

You looked over at Mason. He was crying. He had his whole life infront of him. 

He leaned in and kissed you while Miles was hugging your belly. “I love you, more than anything” he said to you in between the kiss.

“I love you more.”

[utterlyazriel]

whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: here she is... chappie four <3 thank u for ur patience and 1000 kudos to the anon that made a plot suggestion that i had already written lmao-- as always let me know what u think! things are heating up....

word count: just under 4k

synopsis: You return to regular training for the first time in a month. Azriel asks a favor from Rhys and finds you in a less than stellar condition when he returns to camp

CHAPTER FOUR :: FRIENDS

Velaris is a sight for sore eyes.

After nearly a month of endless white scenery, of the blinding glint of the sun against snow, paired with endless pine, the sight of a city is a reprieve in itself.

And because it’s Velaris — because it’s home — something else settles within Azriel.

A hackle that always stays on high alert finally lies down. The constant agitation of his shadows falls into a calming hush. He breathes easier.

He's back with his family and can be here to keep them safe if need be. He's back to the closest semblance of comfort he's ever known.

Where do you find comfort?

Azriel blinks a little, taken aback at the abruptness of the thought.

The lone shelter in the mountains, spaced out from the circle of buildings, every bit representing your isolation from the people of the camp — that was your home.

Where you resided and took solace from the world in, the place you felt safest. But... it's no place of comfort. It's a crutch. A necessary support. Somehow, Azriel has no doubt that if you could survive out in the snow, burrowed amidst the elements, you would, if only to have one less thing to maintain.

You've never even seen a city before, he thinks. All you know is the mountains.

Suddenly, eyes cast across the breathtaking beauty of Velaris, the hum of the Sidra carving its way through his beloved home, the buzz of people on the streets, Azriel recalls the very time he lay eyes on it himself.

It never stops being breathtaking. That much is true, but then again, there was no comparison to the first time.

The warm feeling that had grown in his chest. The way something he hadn't known ever existed within him had unfurled, like a flower blooming in the sun. Something Azriel now knows to be hope.

He hadn't known a place this beautiful could exist.

Wouldn't have been able to dream it up when all he had known for so, so long was darkness and shadow.

Even in the time after the cage, all there was to see was the white of winter and the cold bite of the harsh mountains. He learned how blood looked melting into the snow, how to sleep with one eye open, and all the different shades of cruelty.

Azriel remembers being unable to comprehend the sight, the stumble in his heart at the indisputable proof before him. That despite what had been drilled into him by his father, his brothers, by every Illyrian warrior who punched down on bastards, there was a place where peace reigned above all.

People who lived in harmony. Where Art and music are considered a treasure alongside other skills, each equally important. And Azriel belonged there, as much as any of them.

It had been one thing to walk through the city, to marvel at every cobblestone, at the trims lining each and every window, to have people regard him with such a polite and casual manner — not a second glance at his wings or his hands.

It had been something else entirely to fly over it as night fell.

Mountain ridges illuminated by his most constant friend, the rising moon, watching the moonlight spill over the dark red rock of the mountain and paint it ever softer. Sweet ocean air and the very perfume of the city intertwined within the current as he soared above it, mighty wings beating.

Azriel could remember that first day and night in Velaris vividly, like an unforgettable dream. How easy it had been to fall in love with it, to let its arms unfurl and to allow himself to make a home within them.

Looking out across it now, as Faelights begin to twinkle and blink to life as the night creeps in, all Azriel can think of is how much he wants that for you.

To bring you here. To have both of you fly above the city and wander down the streets aimlessly, to show you that there were places far kinder in this world than all you had known before.

He yearns for you to have the same dawning realisation he did—that so much more existed outside of those gods forsaken mountains.

Azriel knows you're a very guarded male. You have more than enough reasons to be. He's already pushed a thousand boundaries you have and each time you let him into your sanctuary in the mountains is a sign of enormous trust.

Maybe for that reason, Azriel wants to be the first to extend that kindness to you.

A twinge in his chest sings a different, golden answer.

Azriel ignores it and steals one more look out at his home, swallowing down how all logic seems to be pointing to the same thing, time and time again.

He finds the High Lord in his study, papers stacked high on his desk that have only grown higher in Azriel's absence. His dark hair is tousled in a way that means he's been running his hand through it too much.

Azriel lifts the shadows from beneath his feet as he enters, letting the other hear the sound of his soft footsteps. Rhys looks up at the new arrival. Despite his tired appearance, it does nothing to dim the grin that overtakes his lips at the sight of his brother.

"My, my, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

Azriel grins back, stepping forward Rhys pushes back from his desk and stands. His usual wings have been hidden away through his magic and Azriel notices their absence when he pulls him into a brief hug. Rhys lingers close, his violet eyes raking over his friend.

"Not bad to see you either."

"You flatter me." Rhys purrs, his voice all buttery and smooth. "You've got new eyebags. Overworking yourself as usual, are we Az?"

"I presume you make such lovely comments about Feyre too?"

"And risk her wrath?" Rhys smiles, eyes glittering at the mention of his mate. "Never."

Azriel rolls his eyes, letting his obvious endearment at his brother's happiness show. They truly are a perfect pair.

He crosses his arms across his broad chest tightly, if only to hide the fleeting flicker of wanting the spools tight in his chest. A ribbon of envy, woven between his ribs.

If Rhys notices, he doesn't comment. Instead, he says, "Usually, you're itching to escape the mountains but not this time I see."

He pauses, eyeing up the Shadowsinger to see what response it'll give. Azriel yields no comment back. Expecting this, Rhys smiles.

"Either way, you'll be happy to hear that Cassian has returned from his time off and is ready to resume his usual duties."

Azriel stills at the words.

He knew that Cassian would at one point return to his usual positions and that Azriel himself, would return to his spymaster post. But it's come sooner than expected. Perhaps, time with you has been passing far quicker than Azriel thought.

"I found the cause of the rumours."

"Yes, I assumed you had," Rhys says, wandering back around the deck to slump into his chair. He leans one arm against the armrest, his knuckles against his temple.

"I also assumed that you spent all that time dealing with it. Much of a problem?"

Azriel considers his words carefully. The trust he's managed to garner with you is fragile, though he knows his friend would not severe it or interfere if he asked.

Another part of him knows it's unusual behavior of him, to offer his skills so willingly to a stranger. But, well, you're not exactly a stranger anymore.

"There's a male.” Azriel begins, choosing his words carefully. “A bastard, the one causing all the stir-ups. He feeds the other bastards when he can. It's what had Lord Mylind kicking a fuss."

Rhys curses lightly at the realisation of just which camp they are dealing with.

"He's learning to make healing tonics," Azriel continues, noting how Rhys' head straightens up a fraction. Interested. "In hopes of slipping them to freshly clipped females. To see if it can reverse the damage."

Rhys sits back in his chair completely, his hand brushing over his mouth in deep contemplation. For a moment, he says nothing.

"I suppose I don't need to ask if there's been any female training then."

Azriel feels himself glower instinctively, his wings hiking up an inch higher without meaning to. He thinks of Lord Mylind and the conversation he had on the first day in their camp. The sheer display of male arrogance, snarling, and threatening violence outright.

"No.”

Rhys curses again, his eyes crushing closed. He seems to filter through a pained reaction, his face contorting until it lands on a tired resignation.

“The camp of Exordor made very good on a bargain struck during a very hard time.” Rhys grits the words out.

Something dangerous flashes in his eyes at the mention of the deal that had turned sour. A cold ripple of night shudders through the room.

No amount of soldiers supplied during the war had been worth the suffering that camp Exodor alone produced— or continues to produce if the whispers that came out of there held an inkling of truth.

It’s a rotten place, tucked deep in the mountains, and some of the worst brutes Rhys has ever had the displeasure of meeting were born in the bowels of that place.

“It doesn’t lift for another 50 years." Rhys sighs, his voice wavering with a hint of shame. "I can’t touch them without slaughtering them all— innocent or not.”

Azriel didn’t say anything for a moment. This information is not new. He watches as Rhys digests his silence, leaning back in his chair as the wheels spin in his head, dizzyingly fast.

For the second time, Rhys' brows jump.

“You’re helping him.”

Not a question.

Azriel nods.

"You don't want Cassian to take back over."

"No," Azriel murmurs. "Not yet. The male is... He's guarded. Isolated. It has taken time to earn his trust. I believe in what he wants to do and I believe he has what it takes to achieve it.”

He thinks of the quiet evenings within your shelter, your patience as you taught Azriel what you could — how you took every piece of information from him on the chin, not one complaint of ever tiring. He thinks of the heaving in his chest, the tug on his heart.

"I ask that you let me see this out." Azriel finishes, his shoulders rolling back as he stands tall. Let Rhys understand how this had become more than just a mission to him; it’s a personal calling, one he must answer, one that he needs to see out to the end.

Rhys surveys him intensely, unblinking for a moment. Then something devious crosses his face, catching in a smile.

"That's not the only thing you want to ask me, is it?"

Azriel looks to the ground, suddenly bashful. This would be entirely too revealing of the closeness he felt, to ask this, to offer this. He asks anyway.

"I wish, with your permission, to take Heartstriker." Azriel's voice rumbles lowly. He forces his eyes back up, meeting Rhys' strong gaze. "To gift to him."

Something dips into Rhys' smile, threatening a smirk and for that reason alone, Azriel feels his ears tinge hotly. His face remains calm, however, giving nothing away.

"Heartstriker? As a gift?" Rhys repeats, with a sly smile. "Pray tell Brother, when's the wedding? Since when have you ever been known for gift giving, let alone something as dear to you, such as a sword? I might just have to meet this bastard."

Azriel’s ears only get hotter, betraying him. He prays it doesn't show on his face, though he's sure the increased swirlings of his shadows give him away. And Rhys’ infallible ability to read his flustering each and every time.

"Is that permission?"

Rhys, seemingly realising he won't be getting any juicy details, quits tormenting his brother with a flourish of his hand. He leans back in his chair relaxed, a softness creeping into his expression.

"It's been yours to take all these years, Az." Rhys finally lands on. "You did earn it, after all."

—

The shelter looks bigger without him here.

Betrayingly, it’s the first thought you have when the door swings open, letting you into your nest of safety. You heave in a breath that rattles loudly and it gets swept up in the foul whistle of the Mother's Kiss.

On your side, your blood-soaked hand clutches your abdomen tightly. Pain spiderwebs up your body, fraying every nerve with a burning agony.

Every step feels loud and clumsy.

You cough as softly as you can, yet still feel the warmth of blood on your lips. The familiar metallic tang overwhelms your mouth.

You must be dripping blood behind you, dragging a slushy mess of crimson snow in on your boots. Fuck, what are you doing again? Your head throbs. They must've knocked your head hard this time if you're losing focus this quickly.

The Mother's Kiss howls fiercely, a reminder of the cruelty outside your little haven.

Right. You remember you need to close the door— and you shove the deadbolt closed along with it. If your ribs were aching a little less, you would reach up and do up the second deadbolt too, at the top of the door. You try to anyway.

Your arm gets mid-way up before you freeze, pain lashing every nerve in your midriff, enough to make you wince loudly. The bindings on your chest aren't helping. For a moment, dark spots dance before vision as you quickly tuck your arm back down, moving too quick.

Fuck. Fuck. One deadbolt will have to do.

It feels as if the whole world lurches when you take your next step, blurring like thick taffy for a split second. You stumble towards your bed and realise as you sink onto your knees on the edge of it, you need to dress your wounds.

Another bloody cough. Has your nose stopped bleeding yet? It's impossible to tell between each and every other ache.

What were you doing again?

Without meaning to, you begin to slump over, nearly lying down in your bed.

Dressings! That's right, you need to make sure the wound on your side isn't still bleeding, need to make sure it's clean when it finally begins to clot, need to...

Need to... what did you need to do?

That's right— you need to sleep.

Your head crumples against the pillow like a dead-weight as you collapse against it, exhausted. As your consciousness wanes, you cough again, a splatter of red spraying your pillow.

Not good, you think absentmindedly. Eyes slipping shut, you miss the familiar figure out the window, approaching through the storm.

—

You're wincing before you even realise you're awake.

Crackling. Logs spitting out little snaps fill the air, the quiet roar of a hearty fire; the first things you hear when you come too, far too slowly for your own liking. Your left ears hum loudly in discomfort— no doubt a result of one of the harsh hooks you had caught in the face earlier today.

Next, you smell something... clean?

Your tongue comes out gingerly, licking your cracked lips and you realise quite suddenly, there's an absence of blood on them. The thought slams into you at the same time you realise; you hadn't been able to stay awake for long enough to even light a fire.

Panic reaches through your ribs and grips your heart, tight, and you sit up without thinking.

Pain follows you closely like a lazy afterthought that slams into you, soaking into your body meanly and making you regret moving so fast. Your head swims heavily, throbbing dully.

A pained noise threatens to leave your lips and you force it down. Then force your head up, eyes blinking rapidly, trying to assess the threat, trying to do something.

Panic squeezes your heart painfully again when your hazy vision clears just enough to reveal the shape of a body before you— your blood chilling in your veins as you realise there's somebody else in here with you.

The whimper you held back before slips out before you can help it, your body squirming backward without thought. Your breaths comes out in sharp pants, bursts of pain accompanying each one, and right as you hit the wall, your vision focuses.

Your lungs empty in relief.

It's Azriel before you, on his knees, his scarred hands are held out in front of him.

They aren't touching you, just hovering, his palms up to indicate he means no harm. His wings are tucked back, hunched down to be smaller than usual, and all around him, his shadows whirl about animatedly.

There's an expression on his face you've never seen before.

"—on't move," He's saying, his low voice finally registering in your ringing ears. His hazel eyes are fixed on your face, darting about quickly. "You'll re-open your wounds."

He's talking about your wounds but for some gods forsaken reason, all you can think is how surprised you are that he came back.

The thought loops endlessly, like a holy mantra —he came back, he came back, he came back— and you realise that you were both terrified and also sure that he wouldn't be coming back at all.

That somehow, somewhere along his trip back to his home, he would have realised you weren't anything worth coming back for.

"Azriel?" You wheeze.

Just to check—you have to check.

Maybe he's a mirage. He certainly would be the kindest mirage you can think of.

You think you see something soften on his face, his wings dropping an inch lower behind him. His hands are still held out before you, still waiting. He's endlessly patient. His shadows seem to slow a bit, less frenzied.

"Yeah," He murmurs gently in response. His hazel eyes burn as they take in the sight of you again. "They got you pretty messed up. huh?”

You're sitting on your bed still, you realise. Blinking slow, you take an inhale, trying to put together how he got here— your eyes fly to the door. It's locked, this time with both deadbolts secured.

Azriel follows your gaze, turning his head slightly. "They're a good precaution. Don't be dissuaded that the spymaster of this court managed to get past them."

You wheeze again, some delirious laugh that gets cut off when pain splinters through your side. You groan lowly, unable to hold it in and your hand creeps slowly to paw at your side.

Faintly, you can feel the scrape of bandages on your skin, covering the wound, and sigh in relief. It makes your diaphragm sink down, the bindings around your chest shifting and that sends a frantic bolt of alarm through you once more.

“You—” The word scratches out your throat and you cough weakly. Every instinct starts to light back up, hackles rising— there has never been someone else around when you're too weak to defend yourself. It takes a moment with eyes closed and measured breaths to lean into your trust. You trust him, you know you do.

“You... patched me up?”

The question comes out wary and pointed despite your efforts. Though that might just be the gravel in your throat from having your face beaten in.

You don’t know how to covertly ask if he saw— if, that when he pushed your bloody shirt up to nurse the slash in your side, he noticed the gauze around your ribs.

It's an alien and terrifying thought, Azriel finding out. A worry deep in the marrow of your bones warbles in response, a thousand hairs standing up on end at the possibility.

How a revelation of that magnitude could sever the first trust you've had in years.

How it could lose... the first friend you've ever truly had.

A string of nausea tugs in your throat, bile threatening, and you have to swallow it down with the crippling fear that's been thrust into your system.

This is how it goes. The intrinsic balance of the world —to be gifted closeness and friendship, is to submit to the possibility of losing it.

Back against the wall, it settles into you very starkly, a thought sharp and clear; you do not want to lose him in any way.

Some part of you thinks he must see you as some kind of starving mutt, growing far too attached to the first hand that feeds it. But looking at him now, his shadowed face and kind expression, the depth of his eyes... you're convinced he sees something more to you.

And you want him to, desperately.

In a way you can't comprehend, can't begin to understand— how can you be so tied to someone you've known for so little? How can it hurt so much to be parted from him when you're barely friends? When he doesn't even know who you truly are.

Perhaps, you think, this is what all friends are like. You wouldn't know, you haven't had any before.

Azriel nods mutely, a strand of his dark hair falling over his forehead. He seems to be considering his words carefully and you take the moment to steal a few deep breaths.

When he speaks, his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard. "I understand that might be... crossing a line. But—" A waver in his voice. "— but I could smell the blood from out in the storm."

There's something left unsaid in his sentence, his tone clipped. Whatever it is, you're far too tired to discern it. Your body, overwhelmed with tension, abruptly loosens as the perceived threat of danger seeps away. It drains you, a sudden wave of tiredness cresting upon you— because you know, undoubtedly, you're safe now.

Not quite meaning to but unable to stop yourself, you sink down and fall limply against your bed. Your wing curls over you defensively, a blanket and shield all in one.

Azriel's hands finally lower, resting gently atop his thick thighs. His shadows dim their chaotic activity, almost lazy with how they whirl about his neck and shoulders. You wonder absentmindedly what they feel like against his skin.

Looking back at his face, you find his eyes haven't broken their watchful gaze on you— intense enough to stir up an unfamiliar warmth within your chest. You avoid it and his eyes, your tired eyes catch sight of something behind him.

"You brought...?" You can't quite finish your sentence, a vicious shiver wracking your frame, making you curl up closer. Tiredness chases it, the threat of sleep looming closer and closer.

Your eyes close without meaning. In the darkness, Azriel's voice swims before you, muted and far away.

"You have to get better before I can give it to you." His voice has dropped to a whisper. It makes your lips twitch in an attempt of a smile. It's funny, hearing a legendary Illyrian warrior like him whispering.

"Okay," You might say back— though you're not sure if it sounds like a word at all.

It doesn't matter. You're already asleep.

[NEXT PART: CONFIDANTS]

—

tags <3

@strangerstilinski @janebirkln @itsswritten @mischiefmanagers @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @idkitsem @illyrianbitch @jeweline16 @fightmedraco @iamjimintrash @maeandering @spideytingley @aneekapaneeka @cassianswh0reeee @viciane @astarlitsoul @mybestfriendmademe @archiveofcravings @reputaytionn-13 @bionic-donut @chessebookgirl @itseightbeats @littleblackcatinwonderland @twsssmlmaa @fanworrior @skysayhi @vintageoldfashion @tequilya @fabulouslyflamboyant5

[me-loving-woso]

The Aftermath

Hello Tumblr and Hello readers.

This is Part 3 of Monthly visits. I really hope you enjoy it. I’m already working on Part 4, so hopefully you won’t have to wait that much. Does this part end in a cliffhanger? Yes. Am I sorry about it? No.

Let me know if I should continue this series. Hope you enjoy this!

The past few days have been incredibly challenging for you. Ava's room was finally finished, so you had to help her move to the room and Lucia finally decided to join La Masia, so you went with her to sign the contract.

Things with Alexia have been really in a weird place. You still remember vividly your conversation with her that day after she called for a break.

"So you want a break from me or the kids?" You ask, nearly crying, changing your position on the bed to sitting, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know, okay! These past few weeks have been overwhelming; I thought I could handle it. Then, Mom began talking about holidays and Christmas, and I guess I didn't think about it before? I don't know, it feels like my life has been changing so much, and I can't keep up anymore." She says clearly, in a very anxious state. "And above all of this, there is the World Cup, and I have all this pressure put on me, and I just want to disappear." She gets out sobbing, making your heartbreak. 

"Hey, hey, look at me." You gently take her face, turning it to you, wiping away her tears. "Since when has this been going on?"

"Since I got called up for the World Cup."

"So two months ago." You say more to yourself. "Why didn't you tell me anything?"

"You had already been dealing with your problems; I didn't want to add to anything."

"You are not a problem to me, okay? If you are happy, I am happy. If you are sad, I am sad. Whatever you need, I'll always be with you. I love you. And I know I don't say it much, but I probably should have. I love you." You began leaving small kisses on her face, trying to kiss away the tears, "What do you need?"

"I need not feel so broken and out of control of my feelings." She says, keeping her gaze down.

"It's alright to feel broken every once in a while, and it's alright to feel out of control. If you need time, I can give it to you. I'd rather lose you for a while than for the rest of my life. I'd wait a thousand lifetimes for you because you are worth waiting for. So when you are ready. I'll be right here." Your eyes start to water, too, as you understand what this entails. You shift on your bed, hugging her. 

"I love you so much, Alexia. I don't know what I would do without you. You really changed my life for the better. You are the love of my life. The only person I imagine spending my life with. And I swear to God, or whatever is up there, that one day I'm going to marry you, and I'll finally feel like I deserve your love."

"You know, you never said that."

"What?"

"That you wanted to marry me." She smiles shyly, keeping her head on your shoulder, hiding in the crook of your neck.

"Of course I do. I can't wait to be your wife and call you that." You pause, taking a deep breath, making her move her head to look at you. "But before that, you must focus on yourself and be good and happy. I want a happy wife, okay? Not the depressed ones you see in the movies that drink an absurd amount of wine and pass out. I want you to be happy. And if, eventually, I am not part of that happiness, I still want to see you happy." She nods, giving you a light kiss on your hand. "I want you to have fun at the World Cup and kick ass, okay? If you ever need me, I'm a phone call away."

That night was the last time you saw her. You told yourself you wouldn't call or look at her Instagram; it would be too painful. So you decided to distract yourself, of course, still having as first priority the kids. 

-

The first thing you did was go to the pitch. You decided to take Lucia and Ava with you, the older girl was about to start the season in Barcelona B, and you couldn't be happier for her. 

You were practicing free kicks and penalties. You and Lucia were in a clear competition while Ava was just there having fun with the ball. After a while, Ava got bored, so she decided to stay on the sidelines in the shadow playing some games on your phone, which left you and Lucia on the pitch.

"Where is Alexia, by the way? I haven't seen her all morning." She asks out of the blue, catching you off guard.

"She left for the World Cup." You reply coldly, quickly passing the ball from one foot to the other, then shooting hard to the goal post, scoring a top bin.

"Aren't they leaving in like two days?" She replies, clearly not getting the point.

"Aren't you asking a lot of questions?" You glare at her, then realize that your tone slightly hurt Lucia. "I'm really sorry, Lucia. I didn't mean to snap at you like that."

"No problem, I'm used to it anyways." She rolls her eyes, closing off, then walks away.

You were feeling guilty; you really didn't want to hurt her feeling, so you told her the truth, "She left."

"What?" She turns around, looking at you. 

You take a deep breath, "She left me."

"Wait, what? You broke up?" She says, shocked at the revelation, fully turning her body to you, taking a step towards you.

"I don't know. I'm sorry I snapped at you; you took me off guard with the question, and I still haven't fully processed it."

"It's okay. I just overreacted." She pauses. "I'm really sorry about Alexia. Do you need a hug?" She asks awkwardly.

You chuckle. "No. It's better not. If you will, I'll start crying. And I am an ugly crier, especially when it comes to Alexia. And I don't think none of us want to experience that."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I will be." You release a shaky exhale. "Now, let's go back home. Ava here is getting too bored." You wrap your arm around Lucia's shoulder and take her to her sister.

-

As you get back home, you decide to go and take a shower, and there you silently cry until no tears are left. You then change into something comfy and go outside to your garden, trying to get some fresh air, and for the first time during the day, you check your phone. There were multiple missed calls from Alba and one from one of your best friends, Mapi. You knew that you had to call back both women, so you opted to go first with Alba. You knew it would be a sad call and hoped that calling Mapi after would cheer you up.

Spoiler Alert: It didn’t.

You take a deep breath and call Alba; she almost immediately picks up.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Alba asks almost immediately, quite sadly. You really didn't want her to pity you.

"You already know the answer, Alba." You smile sadly, "How is she?" You couldn't not ask about her; even though you tried to keep some distance, you still wanted to know how she was doing.

"She is miserable and guilty but knows she must focus on herself now."

"Did you tell her she doesn't have to feel guilty?"

“Y/n.” She replies sternly. "She might be my sister, but that doesn't mean I must agree with everything she does."

"Alba, we know how your sister deals with the pressure and anxiety. Alexia has always been very sensitive. She doesn't deal well with that kind of thing; when she was younger, she had her father and football that kept her going on and deal with the pressure. Now she only has football. You can't take that away from her."

"But she can take you out of her life?"

"That is an unfair question." You clench your jaw, trying to keep at bay your own feelings.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry."

"Just know that I only want what is best for your sister, and if she really wants to, she will return; I really hope she will."

"She will." She says a little too sternly. "Or else she won't hear the end of it from me and Mom."

"Just please, stay with her, support her, and care for her. She needs it now more than ever for this World Cup."

You soon end the call after that, and after taking a minute to ground yourself, you call your best friend. She, too, picks up very quickly.

“Y/N!” She screams in your ear excitedly, .

"How was Norway? Did you already come back? Are you already in Barcelona?" You reply as excited as you can, given the circumstances.

"Norway isn't that bad; I missed Barcelona though; Ingrid made it worth it. How are you? How's Alexia?" You could feel her smile through the phone. 

"Mapi, you have been away for a month; I have some news to share, big news, actually."

"Oh my God, did you get engaged?" She replies excitedly; without making your reply, she continues, "Oh my God, I'm so happy for you guys! And yes, of course, I will be your maid of honor, and yes, of course, I already planned your bachelorette par-"

"Maria calmate, I didn't get engaged." You reply sadly while feeling utterly sick to your stomach from the sadness of the situation.

"Then what is the big news to share?"

"I think I need to tell you in person about it."

"Oh, you can't leave me hanging like that!"

"Come over, and I'll tell you." You say, nearly reaching your point of total exasperation, you knew she wouldn't budge, but you also knew it was best to tell her in person that you have children now.

"A small hint?"

Losing your patience from your long day, you went straight to the point, "I adopted two children, and Alexia and I are on a break." You say, feeling a knot closing your throat.

"Ha ha, a good joke; tell me the truth."

"Mapi, I'm not joking." You say while your voice is wavering. She never heard you cry.

"I'm coming over." With that, she closes the call leaving you with a small tear running down your cheek.

You go inside and find the two girls watching something on TV.

"So girls, change of plans; a friend of mine is coming over, so you will meet them."

"Is it someone from the team?" Lucia asks.

You nod, "Guess."

"I know you are friends with Mapi; is it her?" Ava says excitedly.

"Yes, it is her, but that doesn't change anything. Bedtime is always at the same time." 

"But-"She tries to find an excuse, but you interrupt her, "No buts, you will definitely see more of her, so don't worry." She lightly pouts, reminding you of Alexia and how she uses the same facial expression. 

When you hear the doorbell ring, you open the door, finding your best friend in front of you for the first time in a month. You share a hug, then she asks, "So what happened? What is all this about?" Trying to make sense of what you said in the phone call. "Or was this a way to make me come over?" She gives you a mischievous smirk.

"Even though I missed you, it's not. I'll let you meet the kids, and we can talk later, okay?"

"So it wasn't a joke?" You shake your head, annoyed, "Then this 'talk' will take a while.”

She enters your home and makes her meet the girls. In the beginning, Ava was very shy, hiding a little behind you. But, as soon as Mapi began asking for her attention, she gladly gave it to her. Whereas Lucia was trying to keep it cool. 

Your teammate, in the meantime, was giving the older girl a weird look as if she was trying to remember something. 

"Do I know you from somewhere?" She asks, mostly rhetorically. Your friend had a memory of steel. "Wait, you were the girl that won the meet and greet."

Lucia shyly nods.

"I remember you because you were the first kid I met after joining Barcelona. You were so excited to meet your favorite players. But then, when you found out that Alexia and Y/n weren't there, you were so sad." She chuckled. "You must be happy living with your favorite player now." She says while looking at her smirking and then glancing at you.

"Oh yeah, they never shut up about Alexia. It's so annoying." You chuckle, crossing your arms, looking at both girls as if you unveiled one of their secrets.

"Oh no, if I'm not wrong, Alexia wasn't your favorite player," You could see Lucia changing expression in one instance, trying to communicate with Mapi to stop talking, she was shaking her head, widening her eyes. She was embarrassed, and you could see it from miles away. "Your favorite player was Y/n Y/ln." She chuckles. 

You turn around facing her, utterly shocked, wearing a proud smirk.

"She couldn't stop talking about how much she loved to see you play and how she couldn't wait for you to win the Champions League. It was quite cute, actually."

 "Now. Now. Lucia. Now that I have this information, you know you'll never hear the end of it, right?" You chuckle a little, making the girl slightly blush from the embarrassment but quickly recovering.

"You really had to say it?" Lucia asks Mapi, shaking her head. 

"Of course she did! Do you want an autograph?" You joke.

"Oh my God! Stop it!" She says, smiling, clearly not enjoying your teasing.

"Lucia, pay some respect to your favorite player!" Mapi retorts, then she bursts out laughing.

"Yeah, Lucia! Pay some respect. In this household, we don't condone this disrespect, especially when talking about your idols." You finish the teasing while she rolls her eyes, "Moving on, who's up for some food?" You ask, turning to the three girls around you. 

You decided to order pizza again; you really had to begin doing some serious grocery shopping. 

You were so happy that your best friend met the two girls that you loved so much, and you were even more delighted when you saw that they got along great; it was nearly perfect. Only a person missed for it to be perfect. 

That night you played games together, and when it was time to go to bed, Ava apprehensively went to bed after some convincing.

"I think I'm going to bed, too," Lucia said soon after her sister left for her room.

"You know you don't have to; if you want, you can stay with us." You offer.

"Nah, don't worry. I'm tired, and I have some episodes that I have to catch up with." She says, heading to her room. "Goodnight!" She says, while you and Mapi reply in the same way. 

-

After a month of not seeing each other, you were left alone with your best friend.

"So, the girls are great!" She says, clearly trying to begin all the explanations you had to give her.

"Before I begin explaining everything, I need a drink." You go to your kitchen, open the first bottle of wine, and then go outside with your friend.

You sit at the table, basically downing your glass of wine. You took a deep breath then you began explaining everything to her. First, how you met the kids and what made you adopt them, then you talked about what happened with Alexia, reserving some of the most private details.

"She told me she needed a break because she was getting too overwhelmed, and of course, I let her."

"She's an idiot. She'll come to her senses, believe me. You and her work so well together; it's almost annoying. I don't think I could ever see you guys break up." You knew that she would be sad about Alexia leaving you, as she was the person that indirectly put you two together in the first place. 

"Me too. But I guess nothing good ever works out perfectly." You reply sadly, looking at your glass of wine just poured. "I even bought a ring; I would propose after the World Cup. I had everything planned. Our honeymoon, the wedding date, everything. I'm so delusional." You realize, sadly.

"Hey, hey, Y/n, you are not delusional." She reassures you, taking your hand. You look up at her with glassy eyes, looking at her skeptically. "She wants the same things as you do. It might not seem like it right now, but you'll have your happy ending in the future."

"You know what I hate about all of this? The fact I still don't know what made her decide to want to leave me. Is it me? The kids? She said she couldn't deal with the constant pressure anymore, but what made her change her mind about me? Fuck! Am I not enough? In those three years that we've been together, we've gone through so much, from dealing with my own shit to her ACL; I thought that what we had was good, great even. I thought that taking the next step would be the best thing, you know, she would give me hints too that she was waiting for the proposal. So I thought she was sure about us, but I guess I was wrong? I don't know. I really don't know." You sniff, trying to keep in tears, then you quickly backtrack. "I'm really sorry; I shouldn't be dumping you like that; I know I am talking about one of your best friends too."

"No, Y/n, you can talk to me about it. You are one of my best friends too, okay? And I'm here for you. For whatever you need. And now that you have kids. Thanks for telling me right away, by the way," She remarks ironically, earning a chuckle from you, "I'll be the best aunt they ever had."

"I know you will." You give her a faint smile.

--

--

From your talk with Mapi, you realized one thing, which is that the kids should be your first priority, and everything else would come second. 

You tried to deal with Alexia leaving after three years of relationship, in many ways. Normal people would think that you went to therapy, as this whole situation was making your abandonment issues from your parents surf up, but instead, you coped differently: watching Grey's Anatomy, the first seasons obviously. 

That show was oddly comforting for you, for many people, such as Alexia, were adamant about watching it at first. You tried to convince her to watch it for three years, but she never budged. So now that she is gone, you thought it was the best time to watch it again. You usually watch it after Ava’s bedtime. You would put it on your TV for a couple of episodes. Initially, you didn't go in order; you just watched the most painful episodes. In all of this, Lucia would be like Alexia; she would roll her eyes when you watched the show and then go and mind her own business. You often offered her to come and watch it with you, but she wouldn't; you jokingly called her a girl full of prejudice, while she replied that she wasn't as lame and soft as you. But you could definitely see her stealing some glances at the show. 

What you didn't know was that Lucia and Mapi were keeping in touch. A phone call happened, and Lucia told your best friend that you began watching the show; needless to say, Mapi was concerned because she knew that you only watched the show when you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. She told Lucia that she would be coming over soon, as she left town for a couple of days. But you still didn't know that.

That left you one night while you were watching a really intense episode. Lucia came out of the kitchen, passing through the living room, trying to get to her room, but she suddenly stopped looking at the screen. "Wait. Where is the brunette? The best friend of Meredith, I think. Wasn't she supposed to be in the show from day one?"

"She left," you replied, not taking your eyes away from the screen.

"Wait. What?" She says surprised, taking a seat next to you. You gave her a pillow.

"Yep."

"Is it okay if you put an episode from the beginning?" She asks shyly. You beam at her and switch on to the first episode.

And that is how Lucia began watching Grey's Anatomy. And what shocked you the most was that she was an emotional kid, and she got really invested really quickly, but what was funny was that she tried to hide it, but she never managed to do it properly, silently sobbing when characters died.

A week after, you were so invested that you watched it in all of your free time. You knew that it wasn't healthy. Especially for you, but it looked like she was enjoying herself, so who were you to stop her from watching something she loved. 

That day you were watching the bomb episode; Ava left with Nico to get some stuff for his shop, leaving you and Lucia with time to kill, so you put on the show, and both decided you were up for a show marathon. As you got up to get some water for the both of you, you heard a knock at the door.

"Hey Mapi, what are you doing here?" You ask happily, being surprised you were seeing your friend without her telling you beforehand.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing, why?" You ask her, clearly hiding the fact that you were watching Grey's Anatomy.

"You are watching Grey's Anatomy again, right?"

"No, I am not!" You say defensively.

"Stop bullshitting me, Y/n. Do you remember after we lost the Champions League last year against Lyon? You began watching that freaking show because you thought it could bring you some comfort, but instead, it made it worst!" 

"That's not true!" You bark, even though you know it is the truth. "And you can't barge in like this, into my home unannounced, making wrongful claims." 

"Lucia told me to come."

"And since when you and Lucia talk?"

"Since the night we met, so where is she?"

"Oh, you'll love what you are about to see." You chuckle, taking her to the living room.

When she saw Lucia watching the show, her face was adorned with the most disgusted and offended look.

"Lucia?" She says, making her turn around quickly, giving her a guilty expression.

"Okay, this is not what it looks like. It's-It's Y/n's fault."

"Oh don't blame me! I didn't force you." You say, showing the palms of your hands.

"Okay, you two. We are going out. The both of you. We are going on the pitch; get ready. Where is Ava?"

"With Nico." You reply. 

"Tell him we'll be out for at least two hours."

As you get in the car with Mapi, she keeps her eyes on the road without giving you another glance. Leaving Lucia and you with an awkward silence.

As she gets to the parking lot of the training grounds, she makes you exit the car and turns to Lucia. "Have you already been here?"

"Yeah, Y/n takes me at least once a week." 

Mapi looks at you surprised while you comment proudly, "Mark my words, she's going to be the future of Barça." Lucia blushes lightly, staring at the ground.

"I'm not that good." She says, nearly whispering.

"Don't you dare underestimate yourself! At your age, I was not even near as good as you. And you didn't even start training! Imagine then." She curls her lips in a small smile, heading to the entrance of the pitch.

"Did Y/n tell you about how we got the keys to this place?"

"Oh yeah!" Lucia chuckles, "She told me that you got drunk and wanted the keys, and Alexia had to save you."

"So, are we also changing this story?" Mapi asks you accusatively, making you sigh.

"Okay, maybe I embellished it a little." You grin guiltily.

"So what happened?" 

"She was the drunk one!" Pointing the finger at you while you rest your forehead on your hand, shaking your head, not looking at Mapi. "And then, with some excuse that I don't even remember she lured us into helping her get the keys. Needless to say, she couldn't keep quiet, so her plan went to shit. She couldn't think properly because she was very drunk. She called Alexia, who was partying with the other girls because we had just won our first Champions, crying."

"I wasn't crying."

"You were sobbing because you couldn't figure out where the keys were, even though you claimed you knew where they were. And then Alexia came to the pitch, worried sick, and helped us find them. Which is something I would have never expected her to do."

"Well, she definitely told me another story." Lucia chuckles.

"Well, okay, I may have skipped some of the most lame parts of the story because it was the second time I saw you, and I wanted to not sound too lame." You reply, a little embarrassed.

She places her hand on your shoulders and smiles at you. "But you are lame."

"How dare you talk like that to your football idol?!" You say, faking being offended.

"I can, and I will!" She begins running to the pitch while you follow behind her trying to catch her. Spoiler alert: you couldn't. That girl was fast. Too fast.

After a little while, you both stop, taking a break. You put on your shoes and begin passing the ball to each other in a triangle. Then you leave Mapi and Lucia to play alone while you sit on the grass, smiling at their interactions.

-

You were more than halfway through July, meaning the World Cup was about to start. Even though you decided not to participate, you still told yourself you would watch all the Spain games. You had friends and teammates in that squad and wanted to support them. You and Mapi had the same idea, so you hosted a little get-together with other Spanish teammates who didn't attend the World Cup. Of course, you chose to tell all of your teammates about the kids and the adoption but refrained from talking about the Alexia thing. Initially, they were shocked that you had two children now, but then they were very happy for you. 

So you found yourself on the day of Costa Rica against Spain, with many people in your home, all commenting random shit on TV. You were wearing your old Spain shirt with the number 10 behind it, while Lucia and Ava wanted to wear Alexia's. You let Ava wear one of the old shirts Alexia gave you at the beginning of your relationship with her. While with Lucia, you basically forced her to wear a Spain shirt with your name on it, claiming that "You have to wear the shirt of your favorite player, and you are lucky enough that you live with her." You loved teasing Lucia about the fact that you were her favorite player, and loved even more her annoyed reactions.

The two girls looked too cute, making your heart swell. So you posted a story on your Instagram showing the two backs of the shirts and the tv behind, with no caption. You still had to wait for everybody to come when you received a text from Alexia. 

'Love the fits ;).'

You reply almost instantly, with your fingers trembling, as it was the first time you spoke to her since she left that night. 'They look so cute in it!'

‘I still don't know how you convinced Lucia to wear one of your jerseys, though…’

‘Long story’ You simply reply. This conversation confused you, as she wanted to keep talking to you. At the same time, she was the one that wanted a break, but you kept on replying to her, as you really missed talking to her. 

'You'll tell me when I get back?'

You are about to reply when you hear a knock on the door, so you leave your phone on the table in your living room and go to the door. Mapi, Sandra Paños, Patri, and Claudia quickly enter your home, clearly looking for something.

"Nice picture you put up on your insta." Mapi remarks, "People are going to ask why you have two kids on your story and why you were watching a Spain game when you were part of the 15 people that refused to participate in the selecciòn."

"Make them talk about the kids; I'll discuss everything with Lucia in the future. And for the story, I'll just say it was in support of Alexia and nothing more, which is true." You explain to your best friend. 

"So, where are the kids?" Sandra, the goalkeeper, asks you.

"They are in the living room."

After your teammates meet the two girls, you all order pizza and wait for the game to start. 

You picked up your phone and saw that Alexia sent two other texts to you.

'Wish me luck (luck-clover emoji).'

'I miss you.'

You released a shaky exhale and decided not to reply; it was hurting you too much to respond to any of it. It was unfair of her to send you that last text, and it wasn't fair to you to reply.

During the game, when Alexia did something remarkable, as always, your friends, who were clueless about your break with her, would always make little comments about her and you, which you would shrug off, but Mapi and Lucia immediately understood that they were making you a little sad.

Spain managed to win that game by a very narrow margin. 1-0. You knew that they could've won by much more. You could see that by how they played, something was missing. Alexia's performance was clearly below her average, which made you low-key very worried. You see them return to the changing room, and then you switch off the tv. All the people in the room began talking and joking with one another, mainly focusing on the two kids that you had in your home; okay, a kid and a teenager, but for you, Lucia will always be a kid.

After a while, you receive another text from Alexia, making you feel bad that you weren't replying to them. Which she wrote

'You all were right about Jorge. I should have stayed home.'

You reply to this text, saying, 'I'm sorry, Alexia. He's an asshole.'

What actually had shaken you up from the text wasn't the fact that Jorge probably verbally abused many of your friends and teammates from your national team, which still made you angry as shit, but actually was that she said that she should have stayed home. Was she saying that she regretted going to the World Cup? Or was she regretting leaving you? 

Mapi realized you were having inner turmoil and dragged you to your kitchen, asking what was happening. You showed her your phone, and she looked at you surprised.

"Since when has she been texting you?"

"Since today." You put away your phone, "I just don't get what she is doing. What she wants from me. And I know for sure that she is going through worse than me. But this is fucking torture, and the worse thing is that she doesn't even realize it."

Mapi didn't have the time to reply that a very tired Ava came to the kitchen searching for you.

"Mo-, Y/n, I'm tired."

"Do you want to get to bed?" You ask her smiling as you know the subsequent request that she will make. Over the weeks that she stayed at your home, you started giving her piggyback rides to the bed, making her fall into her bed, earning a laugh from her. Then you would tuck her bed sheets, giving her a good night.

She slowly nods, raising her arms and making grabby hands. You chuckle at her and turn around, waiting for her to jump on your back.

You put her to bed, give her goodnight with a kiss on the forehead, and return to the chaos in the living room.

You found your teammates and Lucia outside in your garden, sat down on the couches, actively talking about random stuff that you didn't even want to know about. You went out and sat down next to Lucia and took part in the conversations that were happening.

"Now Lucia, I have a really important question for you." Sandra begins, making the young girls sit up straight, a little worried. "How's living with Y/n?" Making all the people at the table chuckle apart from you. "I ask you this because when this woman here moved in with Alexia, we were really worried for Nala. And also because she has never once made a plant live for at least more than a week."

"Okay, this statement is very wrong. A, I am a great dog mom, Nala loves me, and B, I only ever owned one plant, and I hate taking care of them." You say, clearly, nobody was listening to you but were waiting for Lucia's answer.

"Honestly, she has been very good to us." She replies shyly. "She took us in when nobody asked her to, and honestly, she has been more of a mom to me this past month than my mother has ever been in sixteen years."

You look at her, eyes watering, really shocked about her statement. You give her a small smile, "Stop it, you will make me cry." You chuckle while removing with your fingers the tears forming in your eyes.

"Who would've thought that Y/n was such a softie!" Claudia teases you while you give her a deadly stare.

"Shut up, Claudia." The other girls at the table chuckle softly, then you turn to Lucia, "I'm really happy you feel that way." You hug her, and you give her a small kiss on the temple.

"If you will excuse me, I'm going to bed now; remember that tomorrow we have training." She reminds you, you slowly nod at her, and then she turns to your teammates, "It was so nice meeting you all; I hope I'll see you again sometime. Good night." All your teammates say goodnight to her, and as soon as she leaves for her bedroom, they turn to you.

"That revelation must have hit you like a ton of bricks." Mapi jokes.

"Oh, you don't even know. I wasn't expecting her to say that; she's not the kind of girl who likes to 'speak her feelings.' But it was a nice surprise."

"They are good kids, really kind and smart. You must be so proud of them." Patri speaks up.

"I am. Ava is so smart and sneaky, you don't even know. Whereas Lucia she's a really good kid, she will be playing for Barcelona B this season. I'm so proud of her; she'll surely be our team's future." 

You say proudly as if you were speaking about your own kids, which slowly you realized that as time progressed, those two kids became so much part of your life that now you couldn't see yourself without them. For you, they were your kids, but you knew that it wasn't right to both of them for you to call them that, they already had a mom, and you didn't want to make them feel like you were replacing her.

"And with Alexia? How are they getting along with her?"

"Oh great! The younger one has her wrapped around her little finger. You all know how Alexia is with kids. Ava found out how she can make her say yes to everything she wants, so that's that. Whereas with Lucia, they bonded over football and dogs."

"You all look like a happy family."

"Yeah, I guess." You chuckle sadly, trying to keep up the façade that you and Alexia were still together.

After approximately half an hour, all your guests left, leaving you alone in the house, wallowing in your pit of misery. You were so happy that Lucia told you what she had told you, and there was only one person that you wanted to tell, Alexia. But you couldn't, and that realization left you helpless.

You go to your bed, which had been half undone since Alexia left, and you lay on it, still smelling her perfume from her pillow. You really missed her. So damn much. 

You turned on your phone one last time before going to sleep. As Mapi predicted, you received many comments about the two kids and why you were watching the Spain game, but what worried you was your agent, who texted you.

'Call me as soon as possible. I don't care if it's midnight."

You decide to call him immediately, hoping he wouldn't pick up. He picked up, telling you how the story you put on Instagram makes many people ask questions, making you roll your eyes.

-

The next day you wake up after approximately two hours of  tossing and turning in your bed, and go downstairs to your kitchen; you give Nala something to eat and make her go outside. You prepare coffee for yourself and wait for the girls to wake up. 

You were scrolling through your phone when Lucia and Ava came to the kitchen for breakfast. Fortunately, after more than a month, since they moved in, you managed to get something to eat for them for breakfast, so you didn't have to go to your brother's place every day.

Lucia sat at the chair next to you while Ava tried to sit on the kitchen countertop, as she saw you many times sit there, but she couldn't because she was too short, but she wouldn't surrender. So you chuckled, then picked her up and put her where she wanted to sit.

"What are you doing?" Lucia asks, trying to peek at your phone.

"Did you open my Instagram yesterday?" You ask her.

"You might be one of my idols, but I don't stalk you on Instagram; I already live with you." She threw her hands up.

"Look at my story." You push her phone to her hands, and she picks it up and goes on Instagram.

"Wait, this is us!" She says, smiling shyly. Ava snatches her phone from her sister to see the picture, making the owner of the phone grunt from irritation, the older girl tries to physically take back the phone, making them have a small fight.

"Okay, girls, it's nearly nine a.m.; it's too early for this type of physicality. Ava, give back the phone to your sister." The little girl huffs and reluctantly gives the phone back.

"So, what is the problem with this picture?"

"People are asking who are the kids in the picture, so I thought I would post about it to get my agent off my back. Is it okay for you? I chose a picture in which you can't see your faces, so you won't have any problems." You reassure the older girl, showing the picture on the phone. 

It was one of the first pictures you took together. The first one, Alexia, took it, and it was the first time you hung out together, all four of you. Ava was very tired and fell asleep on you; Alexia took a picture and sent it to you the day after. You couldn't see the sound girl's face in it, but it was evident she was a child. 

The second one instead was a picture of you and Lucia playing football, you didn't remember who took it, but it appeared on your phone. You fell in love with the photo right away. You were possessing the ball, and Lucia was trying to take it away from you, but you were pushing her away laughing. When you saw both pictures, they became your top three favorite pictures of all time. 

The third picture being with you and Alexia you took when you won your first Champion's League together. You had just started dating and thought you couldn't be happier at that moment, but boy, you were wrong.

"I love them." Lucia simply says, nodding. 

"I don't like my picture!" Ava says, crossing her arms on her chest and pouting.

You chuckle at her antics, "What do you have against it? It's cute!"

"It's not cute! I'm sleeping." 

"Okay, why don't you decide the picture." You offer, giving you her phone, on the album where you kept all the pictures with the girls.

She casually lands on a picture you took of her and Alexia petting Nala, which you thought was beautiful and sad. Making you rethink your life choices again in the past month.

"I want to put this." She says, giving you back the phone.  

"I'll think about it." You give her a smile, then go back to preparing breakfast for them, thinking you'll finish the post that night.

That day, you had a lot of things to do. One is enrolling Ava in an elementary school and then bringing Lucia to the pitch to help her train for the season. You decided to multitask. You took Lucia to the pitch, then left for the school with Ava, and then you'd leave her with Nico and then go back to the pitch to Lucia so that you could train for preseason in Mexico.

Needless to say was that when you got home, you were exhausted. After the tough training that you and Lucia just endured, you both decided to shower then the both of you found yourself lying frozen on the couch with the AC on, waiting for Nico and Ava to come back home to dinner.

—

Fast forward to three weeks, and you still had to do the post; you opted out of it because you thought the pictures were great, but you knew something was missing: Alexia. How could you post about your family when a huge part of it was missing? So you decided not to post anything, hoping she'll return to you. 

You were all now watching the Spain game against the US. The same at your house for the Panama game was again at your home. Spain barely got out of the group stage, with all the players clearly missing the spark they usually had. Matches with the US have always been challenging games; they were 4-time world champions for a reason, but more than that, the majority of the players in the USWNT played in the US, so you weren't even used to playing with them in a club. 

Needless to say, Spain lost that game badly. Jorge was fuming. You could see it from the screen. He would scream at his team at any time, especially with Alexia, making you extremely worried. Alexia didn't deserve it; nobody did. He was acting irrationally for the world to see how bad of a manager he actually was. 

The US team was over the moon when the final whistle blew, whereas Spain was shattered. They were all on the ground with their hands covering their faces. Then Alex Morgan walked towards your ex-girlfriend, picked her up from the ground, and gave her a small pat on the back for encouragement. It really hurt seeing the love of your life this hurt and distraught. 

You see her go to get water near the bleachers, then the camera frame Aitana Bonmatì, which she was too standing up, but then you see her begin running. The camera changes the frame again, and you see where Aitana is running to. Alexia was drinking from a Gatorade bottle, and Jorge approached her. He snatched it harshly away from her and began talking angrily at her. You couldn't hear what they were saying to each other.

Still, you knew Alexia wasn't having any of it, chuckling sarcastically and shaking her head. He reacted by grabbing her by the arm. In the meantime, many of your Spanish teammates that have seen the scene unveiling, ran up to their captain, trying to make him take his hands off her. Ona even forcefully removed his hand from Alexia's arm, giving him a death stare. As she saw her teammates swarm her and their trainer, Alexia put a hand on Ona and Aitana, trying to stop them from doing something stupid. At the same time, Jorge kept screaming at all of them. 

You and your Barça teammates were watching the scene on TV and looking at each other worried. You were frozen and scared, hoping that things wouldn't go sideways than they already were. FIFA was about to intervene when Jorge just finished screaming when Alexia shook her head and left the pitch, practically stomping. The game's broadcasting went to the ads, and you all looked at each other.

"What the fuck just happened?" Map was the first to speak, all turning to her while you still stared at the screen. Many voices were talking one on top of the other, but you closed them out, trying to think about your next step. You knew that if their interaction had lasted more than it did, you would've probably already been at the airport.

What brought you away from your spiral of thoughts was Ava calling out your name. This made you snap out of your trance and realize that also Ava and Lucia probably saw the same thing as you and many other kids around the world. 

You went before her and then kneeled so she wouldn't have to raise her head too much.

"Y/n, why was the coach screaming at Alexia?" She asks worriedly with her head down.

You didn't know what to say to her; you couldn't possibly say that Jorge was an asshole who couldn't interact appropriately even on a worldwide broadcast.

"You know, when a person is sad and angry, they sometimes take it out on others even though they don't deserve it. That's what happened, even though you should never have your feelings out of control." She nods understandingly while you gently take her sides, "Now, why don't we go outside and get ice cream together?" She nods excitingly. "I have to make a phone call now. Can you stay with Mapi until I am back?" You look at your best friend; she gives you a slight nod, then turns her attention to the younger girl. 

You go to your room, and the first thing you do is call Alexia. It goes to voice mail. And even though you hate leaving voicemails, you do.

"Hi Alexia, it's me, Y/n. I think you probably know that already. I saw the game today. I'm trying to say that please call back as soon as possible, or even just text me to let me know you are okay. And I know we're on a break, so I must give you space. But just please let me know if you are okay. I love you." You say, probably holding your phone too tightly, trying your best to find the right words.

Then you text Alba, which you haven't heard from her since the day she called you.

'Hey, Alba. I know that you are in New Zealand right now. I just wanted to ask you if you had heard anything about Alexia. Is she okay?'

Then you send a text again to Alexia. 'I saw the game today. Can you call me when you get this text, please? Or if you don't want to call, just tell me you are okay.'

Then you took a big breath to ground yourself. You told yourself to put your concern for Alexia in little boxes in the back of your brain. You had to be strong for Ava and Lucia. 

You went downstairs to the girls and found your house empty, only Mapi and your kids.

You give the woman a puzzled look. "They left about two minutes ago. And the kids are outside playing with Nala. Did you manage to get a hold of Alexia?"

You shake your head. "I send her a text, and Alba too. I really hope that she's okay. That interaction looked like a lot. And for the whole team to intervene seemed like he was saying some hurtful stuff."

"I sent a text to Aitana to ask her what was going on. She told me that some hurtful personal stuff was said to Alexia. They haven't seen her since then."

"I mean, should I be worried? I know that we aren't on talking terms right now, but she is still someone I still care very much about."

"It's okay to worry about her. I know for sure that she won't be MIA for much long."

"Thank you for taking care of the kids, I'm sorry I left in such a hurry, but I had to make the phone call, ya know."

"If it were Ingrid, and I was in your place, I would've probably done worse." Her confession made you chuckle. 

"So, ice cream? You don't have to come if you don't want to." 

"Of course, I'm coming! I still have to beat Nico for top place as aunt/uncle!"

"You are an idiot." You say, laughing. 

You go outside and call the two girls; Ava goes straight past you to Mapi, whereas Lucia, Shows you the thumbs up and asks you, "You okay?". You nod, giving her a weak shoulder pat, making her enter the house.

Every ten minutes, you would check your phone in the hopes of notification of Alexia, but it was useless. Good thing that Mapi was there, keeping the kids busy. 

You were taking a walk when Alba called you. 

"I'm sorry I have to take this." Your mouth to the defender that it was Alba and move away from the three girls.

"Hi Alba, how are you?"

"I'm good; we are about to go back to Spain. Tomorrow we have the flight."

"Say hi to Eli from me, okay?"

"Oh no, she told me to pass you the phone when we are done talking. What are you doing?" Even though you have known Alexia's mom, she has always been scary to you, especially when Alexia was on the line.. 

"I took the kids for some ice cream with Mapi. Right now, they wandered off, probably looking at some squirrel." You chuckle, smiling at the thought. "Have you heard from Alexia?"

"Nope, she didn't even call mamá. But strangely, she is not that worried. I think she knows where she went."

"At least one of us knows." You say hopefully.

"Mamá wants to talk to you," Alba says, passing the phone to her mom. 

"Y/n, how are you?"

"I'm good, Eli. How's New Zealand?"

"New Zealand is nice, but Barcelona is better."

"No doubts about that." You chuckle, agreeing.

"How are the kids? Are they behaving well?"

"They are wonderful; you should come to dinner as soon as you get back." You say politely.

"Now, I know you love my daughter very much, right?" She asks you authoritatively, making you subconsciously make your back straighter.

"Yes, I do very much."

"When she'll come back to you because she will. Make her work for it." Your face turns into a weird and confused expression. "You two are perfect for each other and complement each other perfectly. That is why I gave you my blessing to propose to her a year ago. But when my child comes to her senses and apologizes to you, if you want her back, which I really hope you do, make her earn it."

"I will." You say, chuckling. "I'll make her sweat a little."

"Good. Now I'll let you get back at it with the kids. Give them a hug from me. And take care of yourself, with ya?"

"I will. Have a safe flight."

-

The rest of the day and the next day passed on rather quickly. You were still worried, but somehow, after the call with Alexia's mom, you were worried less. You knew she was a nearly 30-year-old independent woman; she could care for herself. 

It was approximately 11 pm. You had just put Ava to bed, and Lucia was already to bed, ‘Claiming’ that she was tired. You thought she was hiding something from you, but you weren't worried about that. When she is ready, she will tell you. At least, you hoped. 

Alone in your house, you wondered if this was like rich housewives felt when they waited for their husbands to come home, except that you didn't have a man, nor a woman, for that matter. 

So, willing to get the whole desperate housewife experience, you decided to do the most typical thing they could do. Which was pouring yourself a glass of wine or two and hoping for the best. 

You tried to find the cheapest bottle in your kitchen and opened it immediately; as you were about to put the wine in the glass, you heard an insistent knock on the door. You checked your time and wondered who in their right mind would knock at someone's door at past 11 pm.

You go to the door and open it.

"Alexia?"