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#also fell over on the bus the other day
uwulouis · 2 months
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vaciena · 1 year
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Habitually standing on all forms of public transport is a great form of exercise
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mariacallous · 7 months
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“Did they really decapitate babies?” my 14-year-old daughter asked me yesterday. She was pointing to a text message on her phone from a friend. “They’re saying they found Jewish babies killed, some burnt, some decapitated.” And I froze. Not because I didn’t know what to say—though in truth I didn’t know what to say—but because for a moment I forgot what century I was in. All of the assumptions I had made as a Jewish father, even one who had grown up, as I did, with the Holocaust just a few decades past, were suddenly no longer relevant. Had I adequately prepared her for the reality of Jewish death, what every shtetl child for centuries would have known intimately? Later in the day, she asked if, for safety’s sake, she should take off the necklace she loves that her grandparents had given her and that has her name written out in Hebrew script.
The attack by Hamas on Israeli civilians last Saturday broke something in me. I had always resisted victimhood. It felt abhorrent, self-pitying to me in a world that seemed far away from the Inquisition and Babi Yar—especially in the United States, where I live and where polls repeatedly tell me that Jews are more beloved than any other religious group. I wasn’t blind to anti-Semitism and the ways it had recently become deadlier, or to the existential dread that my family in Israel felt every time terrorists blew up a bus or café—it’s a story whose sorrows have punctuated my entire life. But I refused to embrace that ironically comforting mantra, “They will always want to kill us.” I hated what this tacitly expressed, that if they always want to kill us, then we owe them, the world, nothing. I deplore the occupation for both the misery it has inflicted on generations of Palestinians and the way it corrodes Israeli society; when settlers in the West Bank have been attacked, it has pained me, but I have also felt anger that they are even there. In short, I wasn’t locked into the worldview of my survivor grandparents and I felt superior for it.
But something in me did break. As I was driving on Tuesday, I heard a long interview on the BBC with Shir Golan, a 22-year-old woman who had survived the attack at the music festival where more than 250 people were killed, her voice sounding just like one of my young Israeli cousins. She described, barely able to catch her breath, how the shooting had started and how she’d begun to run. She’d found a wooded area and tried to hide. “I got really into the ground,” she said. “I put the bushes on me.” Covered with dirt and leaves, she’d waited. A group of terrorists had shown up and called for anyone hiding to come out. From her spot under the earth, she’d seen three young people, whom she called “children,” emerge. “I didn’t go out because I was scared. But there were three children next to me who got out. And then they shot them. One after one after one. And they fell down, and that I saw. I saw the children fall down. And all that I did was pray. I prayed to my god to save me.”
I pulled my car over because my own hands were shaking as I listened. She then described waiting, hidden in the dirt under bushes for hours, until she saw the terrorists begin to light the forest on fire. “I didn’t know what to do. Because if I’m staying there, I’m just burnt to death. But if I go out they are going to kill me.” She crawled over to where she saw dead bodies and lay on top of them, but the heat soon approached, so she found more bushes to hide in until she could run again. Burnt bodies were everywhere, and Shir looked for her friends but couldn’t find them, couldn’t even see the faces of those killed because they were so badly burned. “I felt like I was in hell.” She finally escaped in a car.
Her story flung me back to my grandparents’ stories. My grandmother hid in a hole for a year in the Polish countryside, also under dirt, also scared. My grandfather spent months in Majdanek, a death camp, and saw bodies pile up in exactly this way. Stories are still emerging of families burnt alive, of children forced to watch their parents killed before their eyes, of bodies desecrated. How was this taking place last Saturday?
But these stories aren’t what broke me. What did was the distance between what was happening in my head and what was happening outside of it. The people on “my side” are supposed to care about human suffering, whether it’s in the detention camps of Xinjiang or in Darfur. They are supposed to recognize the common humanity of people in need, that a child in distress is first a child in distress regardless of country or background. But I quickly saw that many of those on the left who I thought shared these values with me could see what had happened only through established categories of colonized and colonizer, evil Israeli and righteous Palestinian—templates made of concrete. The break was caused by this enormous disconnect. I was in a world of Jewish suffering that they couldn’t see because Jewish suffering simply didn’t fit anywhere for them.
The callousness was expressed in so many ways. There were those tweets that did not hide their disregard for Jewish life—“what did y’all think decolonization meant? vibes? papers? essays? Losers”—or the one that described the rampage as a “glorious thing to wake up to.” There was the statement by more than two dozen Harvard student groups asserting, in those first hours in which we saw children and women and old people massacred, that “the Israeli regime” was “entirely responsible for all unfolding violence.” And then there were the less explicit posts that nevertheless made clear through pseudo-intellectual word salads that Israel got what it deserved: “a near-century’s pulverized overtures toward ethnic realization, of groping for a medium of existential latitude—these things culminate in drastic actions in need of no apologia.” I hate to extrapolate from social media—it is a place that twists every utterance into a performance for others. But I also felt this callousness in the real world, in a Times Square celebratory protest promoted by the New York City chapter of the Democratic Socialists of America, at which one speaker talked of supporting Palestinians using “any means necessary” to retake the land “from the river to the sea,” as a number of placards declared. There were silences as well. Institutions that had rushed to condemn the murder of George Floyd or Russia for attacking Ukraine were apparently confounded. I watched my phone to see whether friends would write to find out if my family was okay—and a few did, with genuine and thoughtful concern, but many did not.
I’m still trying to understand this feeling of abandonment. Is my own naivete to blame? Did I tip too far over into the side of universalism and forget the particularistic concerns to which I should have been attuned—the precarious state of my own tribe? Even as I write this, I don’t really want to believe that that’s true. If I can fault myself clearly for something, though, it’s not recognizing that the same ideological hardening I’d seen on the right in the past few years, the blind allegiances and contorted narratives even when reality was staring people in the face, has also happened, to a greater degree than I’d imagined, on the left, among the people whom I think of as my own. They couldn’t recognize a moral abomination when it was staring them in the face. They were so set in their categories that they couldn’t make a distinction between the Palestinian people and a genocidal cult that claimed to speak in that people’s name. And they couldn’t acknowledge hundreds and hundreds of senseless deaths because the people who were killed were Israelis and therefore the enemy.
As the days go on, the horrific details of what happened—those babies—seem to be registering more fully, if not on the ideological left, then at least among sensible liberals. But somehow I can’t shake the feeling of aloneness. Does it take murdered babies for you to recognize our humanity? I find myself thinking—a thought that feels alien to my own mind but also like the truth. Perhaps this is the Jewish condition, bracketed off for many decades and finally pulling me in.
When news broke of the Kishinev pogrom in 1903 that took 49 lives (compare that with the 1,200 we now know were killed on Saturday), it caused a sensation throughout the world. “Babes were literally torn to pieces by the frenzied and bloodthirsty mob,” The New York Times reported. “The local police made no attempt to check the reign of terror. At sunset the streets were piled with corpses and wounded. Those who could make their escape fled in terror, and the city is now practically deserted of Jews.” In response to that massacre, the emigration of hundreds of thousands of Eastern European Jews to the United States began in earnest; the call of Zionism as a solution also sounded clearly and widely for the first time.
In his famous poem about the massacre, “In the City of Slaughter,” the Hebrew writer Haim Naḥman Bialik lamented, even more than the death, the sense of helplessness (“The open mouths of such wounds, that no mending / Shall ever mend, nor healing ever heal”), the men who watched in terror from their hiding places while women were raped and blood was spilled. I can’t say I know what will happen now that this helplessness has returned—if I’m honest, I also fear that Israel’s retaliation will go too far, that acting out of a place of victimhood, as right as it may feel, will cause the country to lose its mind. Innocent lives in Gaza have been and will be destroyed as a result, and competing victimhood is obviously not the way out of the conflict; it’s the reason that it is hopelessly stuck. But in this moment, before the destruction of Gaza grabs my attention and concern alongside fear for my relatives who have been called up to the army, I don’t want to forget how alone I felt as a Jew these past few days. I have a persistent, uncomfortable need now to have my people’s suffering be felt and seen. Otherwise, history is just an endless repetition. And that’s an additional tragedy that seems too much to bear.
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wosoamazing · 15 days
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Bad Timing
Warnings: Endometriosis, Passing Out, Vomiting
A/N: IDK how good it is, can’t decide if I like it or not but yeah…. (also I tried to make this as accurate as possible in terms of the medical things but IDK)
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It was your first Lionesses camp, which you were dreading, if you weren't nervous enough your period was due during this camp, and to say it wasn’t easy was a massive understatement, you had just recently been diagnosed with endometriosis, after what felt like years of being told you were over dramatic. You were rooming with Leah, Sarina had said something about “broadening horizons” or something by switching up the rooms slightly, it meant nothing to you, it was your first camp. However this made you more nervous and scared about getting your period. Leah was really nice and kind, and you really enjoyed playing at Arsenal with her and you always took on any tips she had for you, but you were worried she would see you as weak after seeing how you were on your period. You knew she also had endometriosis and for the one and a half years you have been at arsenal she had not once taken a day off, making you feel like you just weren’t strong enough. You missed training almost once a month and Beth even forced you to pull out of a game one day, insisting she stayed with you missing the game as well. To be fair Leah had done her ACL a week before you signed for arsenal however you still never once heard her complain about it.
Training had been going well, even though you had a dull ache in your abdomen and you had a headache, you knew it meant you would be getting your period pretty soon but you thought you would be in clear at least for now and that you could make it through training, you just had to try and ignore the pain, that had slowly been increasing in intensity.
You were having a drink when a hand was placed on your shoulder, “do you have another pair of shorts?” It was Leah, “no,” you replied quietly trying not to cry, how did you manage to not bring a spare pair, of course this happened, you had travelled from your hotel on the bus to training so it wasn't like you could just go up to your room. “Okay, well why don’t you go to the locker room and I’ll just tell Sarina what is happening and then I’ll come to you, I have a spare pair.” “I should probably go get my tablets from the medics” “Do you-” you cut her off with a nod knowing what she was going to say before a wave of stabbing cramps caused you to hunch over slightly and clutch at your stomach. “It’s okay, I will do all of that, you just go to the locker room.” you nodded before you turned around and walked into the locker room.
Leah had noticed things not many people would, first it was how you missed a training session from the same week 3 months in a row, then it was the fact that you bled through more than you would’ve liked, and the last one was that you would always sit with your knees to your chest in meetings and breaks during the week that your day off fell into.
____
“Sarina, I think Y/N has just started her period, I’m just coming to tell you because she needs to change her shorts and doesn't have any but I do, so I was just going to go with her.” Leah says as she walked over to Sarina, who nodded before walking away from the other girls getting Leah to follow her, “She has endometriosis, the medics have her tablets and from what her doctors reports say it gets bad, it’s only a friendly, I might get someone to take you both back to the hotel, so we can make a judgement on how we approach this long term, I don’t want to risk her health. Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah, I think that might be good. Thank you” “No, thank you Leah. I know you will take good care of her, it might not just be a coincidence that you are her roommate.”
____
Once you got into your room you changed out of your training gear and Leah went down with one of the medics so she could get some things you may need.
Once you had changed you started to walk over to your bed when a shooting pain ran down your back and legs sending you to the floor. You were curled up on the floor of your room, holding your stomach tightly, just wishing Leah came back soon, maybe she could help. You really hated how your periods just started like a tidal wave, giving you no time to prepare. You felt like someone was squeezing and twisting your uterus, whilst your back cramped.
“Oh tiny,” Leah said sympathetically as she walked back into the room, she placed the items she had gotten on the bed before she crouched down in front of you.
“Do you want me to move you to the bed?” you gave her a weak nod, and she placed a hand on your shoulder before rolling you over slightly so she could pick you up, the slight movement caused you to whimper before the swift movement of her picking you up caused a heavy stream of tears to fall from your eyes, “I know, I know, I’m sorry”. She gently placed you down in the middle of your bed, before getting in next to you, her upper body was propped up slightly from the pillows as she laid down next to you. She silently handed you a hot water bottle which you placed on your stomach before curling up into a ball on top of her, your head resting on her chest. “Do you want one on your back too or no? I can keep it there,” “yes please,” you said weakly, she grabbed it and softly placed it on your back before holding it there.
“I have a sick bag if you need it, and please ask me for anything at all, I promise I wont judge you, I just want to help.” you just nodded slightly and she wrapped her free hand around you, you managed to fall asleep but even asleep Leah could tell you were still in pain.
____
“How is she, is she okay?” Beth panicked as she rushed into your room concerned for her favourite little person, she had obviously been informed by Sarina or one of the other staff. You had known Beth since you were born, you were very close family friends, your Dad’s knew each other from when they were young kids and even though you were 11 years younger than her you both always got along well. So when you moved to Arsenal it was a no-brainer that you would move in with her and Viv, it also meant they would have someone living with them to help. When her Mum died it hit you hard, June had been a big part of your life, always looking after you for your parents when their work caused them to be away, she would always show up to your weekend games if she was available and even came to your grandparents day at school, when your grandparents couldn't come but you didn't want your parents to go, when the teacher suggested you could bring an adult friend you had asked her and she happily accepted.
“Yeah she is okay, I think she is in a lot of pain though, it's kind of worrying me,” Leah said as she looked at you, noticing a fear tears were now leaving your eyes even as you slept.
“y/n” Leah softly said as she brushed her hand against your cheek causing your eyes to flutter open, “Beth is here,” you opened your eyes to see Beth sitting on Leah’s bed, “Can I go to the toilet?” “Sure, do you want me to help?” you nodded shyly and Beth helped you off Leah before steadying you as you walked into the bathroom, just as you entered the bathroom, you felt light headed and dizzy, everything was going blurry and there was a ringing in your ears.
“Beth-” your voice was laced with panic and pain “It’s okay, don’t worry, let's just sit on the floor,” Beth said calmly as she lowered you to the floor knowing what was going to happen, as soon as you were on the floor your body went limp against Beth’s and everything went black. “It’s okay, you’re okay, we’re here, we’ve got you,” you heard Beth say as you came back to, opening your eyes slowly so they knew, “Are you okay?” you shook your head as you closed your eyes again. All your body weight was still being supported by Beth, as you took some deep breaths “do you think you might be sick?” you nodded your head, and Leah quickly got the sick bag from the bed and handed it to Beth, “I’ve got a bag, okay. You’re going to be okay though, I promise, I’ve got you, no matter what happens,” Beth reassured you, a few minutes had passed and thankfully you hadn't been sick yet. “Are they always this bad?” Leah asked to which you nodded slightly before letting your head fall back against Beth’s shoulder, she brushed away the pieces of hair that were stuck to your forehead before giving you a small kiss on your forehead.
“Have-” Beth shook her head, “They wont do anything more Leah, we’ve been to extensive appointments, she is too young for them to look into more drastic things yet apparently, and due to her age she is limited on the strength and type of painkillers she is on but some months they are a bit better but they also can get a lot worse.”
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Pretzel Chocolate
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Hi guys!
This is a request I add some days ago, I know it kind of the same background as @alessiasfreckles current story. But I asked her before and she kindly accepted it. So thanks to her too ♥ (Go check her work, it really is amazing)
It's a little less sweet that what I usually write with Wally, but I hope you will like it.
TW : Accident, Loss memory, Angst but happy ending
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Clearly, you didn’t expect that when you innocently get in your team’s bus back to London. Like your girlfriend Lia, you’re a footballer and that’s how you got to know each other. You quickly fell in love with the Swiss girl and after some very disturbing flirting attempts on your part, Lia saved you from humiliation by asking yourself for a date. You agreed and the rest is history.
You were sleeping peacefully in the front of the bus when the accident happened. Most of your teammates had gathered in the back for a wild game cards, allowing you to catch up on your sleep peacefully. Over time, you get used to falling asleep with Mackenzie’s Australian-sounding curses when she loses, Kristie’s happy exclamations, or Katrina’s laugh.
You have no memory of the accident, you don't know why and how the driver ran straight into a pole, throwing you out of your seat under the violence of the shock and putting you at the top of the list of wounded with a vital emergency when help arrived.
Lia was at a team bonding and will remember perfectly when Mackenzie called Caitlin shortly after the accident, in shock of what had just happened. She will remember the blood that suddenly left her ex-girlfriend’s face and the horrified look she gave her. She will also remember that she needed to be told things three times so that the information was anchored in her brain and that Leah was more reactive than her, taking her to the London hospital where you were having your operation at that moment.
She will also remember the relief of learning that you are alive, but the distress of not knowing when and if you will wake up. Nor in what state. But she will also remember the unfailing support of Leah and Lotte who kept her company in the waiting room for hours.
********
When you regain consciousness, the first thing you face is a blinding light that make you close your eyes again quickly. You hear different beeps around you, whispers of voices and the sound of a chair being dragged on the floor that makes you open your eyes instinctively.
You are this time facing the faces of several people, who look at you attentively. One of them is dressed all in white, a man of about fifty years certainly who slowly approaches you by looking at you carefully.
"Can you hear me?"
You nod, bitterly regretting your gesture when your vision is blurred and a pain awakens in your skull. You wince and moan in pain, your eyes flickering when one of the two women in the room takes your hand in hers. She seems to be on the verge of a panic attack or passing out.
"Where am I?" you ask, difficulty articulating.
"At the hospital in London. You had a traffic accident two weeks ago. Do you remember?"
"No…" you frown, searching your mind for any information.
"It’s normal" the doctor assures you with a smile, noting a few words on his notepad "Can you tell me today’s date?"
As he looks up at you, he must feel the fear that begins to take hold of you. The hand on yours tightens around yours, but you are quickly diverted from this by the professional who talks again.
"What year are we?"
This time, you're way more scared. You know nothing about it. You are unable to be even close to the reality.
"It doesn’t matter, everything is fine. Tell me the closest memory of today that you have.”
"I…"
It’s the nothingness in your memory. You turn your brain upside down, without being able to get anything out of it.
From the corner of your eye, you see the two women exchanging a look, without you being able to understand what it's about. And, when you realize that you cannot give your own identity, it's panic that takes hold of you.
A few hours later, you finally come to yourself again. After your panic attack, the doctor gave you a sedative that sent you into the clouds. You come back to yourself, but your memory is still lacking, despite all the different stimuli tried by the doctors. Aside from getting annoyed and tired, it doesn’t change anything. And it's finally when one of the two unknowns women asks them dryly to leave you alone that it stops. You are grateful to her, you hope that the look you cast at her speaks for you.
You have no memory of your love life, your past, your present or your family. The doctors warned your parents who came immediately, apparently not living very far from London. You learned in the meantime that the two young women in the room are respectively called Lia and Leah, the pronunciation being the same, it confused you a few seconds. But when the brunette mumbled that she was nicknamed Wally, you decided to go for it too. You found out you were friends, Leah showed you some pictures to prove it.
Other friends came to visit you, including Mackenzie who came with a photo album so you could list the people who mattered to you. Lia is very often at your side, discreet, almost mute. You’ve noticed that her eyes get wet sometimes and then she apologizes before leaving your room in hurry.
"She cares about you and is worried" Mackenzie answered kindly at your questions.
"I think I care about her too, even if I don't remember. Seeing her sad make me sad" you mumble.
Mackenzie smiles at you, squeezing your hand in hers. She was in the accident as well and only got out with a slight concussion. Most of the players (you learned that you were a professional footballer) got away without serious injuries. There's only you.
You learned that you play football, like most people who come to see you at the hospital. And you’re playing pretty well. You play for West Ham but also in the England national team and you even won the Euro in 2022. Unfortunately, you are without a screen for many more weeks. So, Lia came back to see you once with photos of the event. You pose there beside Leah and other people who also came to see you. Beth, Alessia, Lotte and many others.
But you don’t remember that either.
********
Staring at the clock on the walls of your room, you wait for time to pass. Leah and Wally are supposed to come see you and you can’t help but feel some excitement at the thought. You appreciate when Lia comes to see you, she is calm, gentle and always very attentive to your needs. You seemed close before your accident and it’s probably stupid since she’s in a relationship with Leah, but you want to find back the bond you had.
"Hi there!" cheers Leah, entering your room soon after.
She carries Swiss chocolate and some flowers. She put the old ones in the trash to put the new ones on the table. You look at her, lying in your bed, a little bit tired. You had exercises to try to have your memories back all the afternoon, but it didn't go well.
"Thank you, Leah" you answer, slightly smiling. "Are you alone? Where is your girlfriend?"
"My girlfriend?"
Leah frown, looking at you. You frown too, you know you have a bad memory, but you saw both interact together.
"Well... Wally?"
"Wally? She's not my girlfriend" Leah laughs. "She's one of my best friends though."
"Oh... I thought... You look close."
You shrug your shoulders and you see Leah sitting on the chair next to your bed, tilting her head on the side while looking at you.
"We are. But in a friendly way"
She smiles at you and you smile back. You feel like she want to ask you something but didn't. You don't have anything to remember, so you try to work on your intuition to guess things. And you usually are very good at this. But you didn't insist, something else coming in your head anyway.
"We... We only were friends, you and me right?"
"Yes" laughs Leah "Don't get me wrong, you're very cute but..."
There is no but, because Wally is entering the room at this moment. She looks at Leah with a special gaze, making the blonde looking a little bit uneasy.
"Hi" you say, trying to dismiss the tension you don't understand.
Lia's eyes are coming on you and her face softened, giving you a small smile.
"Hi Y/N"
Her accent is special, you asked her where she's from the other day and learn that she's from Switzerland. After that, you asked one nurse what Switzerland looks like and she came back with a travel-themed magazine, the principal subject being Switzerland this month. You didn't ask Lia if you already went there, sometimes she looks so sad about your situation that you want to cry too.
She comes to kiss your cheek, before giving you the chocolate Leah was caring.
"Swiss chocolate. It's your favorite."
You look at the package with curiosity, turning it in your hands. Milk chocolate with pretzel in it.
Your loved ones have been instructed to give you secondary information about your tastes, preferences or things you like. But they must not give you information that you have not looked for yourself before. That’s why you don’t know anything about your love life, some of your past too.
You remembered some things, like how you hate artichokes so much or what your bedroom looked like when you were a teenager. Maybe you should have left this information behind when you think about the number of posters of all kinds that covered your wallpaper.
After hesitating, you open the tablet to take a square and eat it. It's not surprising that it's your favorite, the flavor is exceptional. As you enjoy your chocolate, a picture dances before your eyes. A living room with a fireplace located right next to a TV. The wooden floor is light and there is a coffee table between the sofa and the TV.
"Do I have a fireplace in my house?"
Leah and Lia exchange a look, and it's finally Leah who answers you with a little sorry smile.
"No, you live in an apartment.”
"Oh…"
You sigh softly, a little disappointed. You don’t realize that in Lia’s eyes looking at you, there’s hope for the first time since your accident. You strive to engrave this vision in your mind to forget as little as possible.
Lia sitting next to you, you instinctively seek her hand, mixing your fingers with hers. You realized a few days ago that the feeling soothes you and since Lia doesn't seem disturbed by this kind of gestures, you don't deprive yourself of it.
********
"Did Lia come to see you?"
You look up at Alessia, who has come to keep you company for the day. Her eyes are placed on the chocolate bar opened on your bedside table and a smile decorates her lips. Apparently, your chocolate tastes seem to be known to everyone.
"Yeah, she was here earlier with Leah."
You repost the crossword book that Alessia brought you, as well as some Spanish specialties received by Lucy, with whom you also play in the national team. You are apparently close to her too, but since she plays in another country and you aren't allowed to use electronic devices now, you haven't been able to exchange much. She wrote you several letters though, telling you about her dog, her love life and her life in Barcelona. That’s probably what you’re talking about when you call. It took you several days to answer something in writing, your concentration being still difficult sometimes. But you managed to do it.
"I thought they were together. Lia and Leah"
Alessia looks at you with an expression that mixes surprise, tenderness and fun.
"Many fans thought they were together before they denied the rumors. You remembered Leah’s ACL, right?" asks Alessia before continuing when you answer positively "Lia was very present for Leah at that time. I guess it brought them closer."
You nod thoughtfully, playing mechanically with the pen you always have in your fingers. You did remember Leah’s injury, which kept her away from the World Cup you apparently competed in last summer. You have a few images in mind, like kangaroos you saw with Ella or a laugh when Mary showed you a video of Alessia traumatized by a turkey.
You miss those moments we stole from you, and you can’t remember them. It’s frustrating and it makes you very sad sometimes. You wish you could get your life back, but it’s not working right now. Your parents come to see you regularly and show you photo albums of you as a child, with your brother and cousins. You seem to be numerous and you seem to be in the youngest of this generation.
"You’ll remember, Y/N" Alessia says gently, putting a hand on your knee.
You give her a little smile before you nod. Yes, you will remember. You have no choice.
********
Several things have been put in place to help you regain your memory. You have a medical treatment to take every day, you have psychotherapy and hypnosis sessions and you also have a sports routine to respect. This last thing isn't a bad idea since you are a professional footballer and if you want to get your life back, you must stay fit enough.
Sometimes you are accompanied by one of your friends, and today it is Mackenzie who helps you to return to your room. No release date has been given to you, but according to your doctors it will not be long. You don't know where you will go however, it has been highly recommended to you not to live alone for the moment. You didn’t have the guts to ask anyone. You would like to ask Lia if she would accept to host you for a while, but for a reason that you cannot determine you retreat every time you are about to ask her the question. And it’s been a few days now.
So, you are fucked up when the doctor comes back to see you in the room after your shower while you and Mackenzie watch a game on television.
"Did you find someone to have you when you left the hospital?" asks the doctor.
You feel yourself blushed and you see Macca’s face turning in your direction.
"Um… Mackenzie, I haven’t asked you this yet, but if you’re okay, I thought about you?"
Just a beautiful liar.
"Oh… yes, of course. I thought… whatever. Of course, my guest room is at your disposal."
"Thank you" you answer with a slight smile.
The next day, when Lia comes to see you and you tell her that you are going to settle for a while with Mackenzie, it would be hard not to see her face fall. You don’t understand the pinch in the heart that it makes you, but she recovers quickly, making sure that she is very happy to learn that you are better.
"Will you keep coming to see me? At Macca's?" you ask, almost timidly.
A few seconds pass during which she looks at you intensely, before nodding.
"Of course. If you feel like it"
"It would make me very happy."
She smiles at you, but with that sad smile that doesn't reach her eyes, before diverting your attention to the newspaper she brought you. You listen to her read you the latest news and you decide to offer yourself a new square of chocolate that Lia brought you, that you save with precious care. Barely in your mouth, you feel a new image coming before your eyes, pushing Lia’s voice in the background.
You’re in the same living room with the fireplace and the TV is on this time. There is a presence beside you and you hear a laugh, a laugh that gives you a strange sensation in the hollow of your belly. When you open your eyes, Lia doesn’t seem to have noticed anything. But these images caused a question in your mind and you interrupt the reading of the Swiss.
"Lia?"
"Yes?"
The brunette raises the nose of the newspaper with a curious air, looking at you attentively.
"I just… don’t take this question for what it isn’t, but I’ve never heard you laugh since you came to see me."
"It’s not really a question" ended up answering Lia after long seconds of silence.
She’s not wrong and you bite your lip, looking for the best way to put your point of view in a better light.
"I just don’t want you to feel obligated to come here, if it weighs on you. I love your presence here, but if it’s too heavy for you…"
"No. It’s important for me to come and see you."
Your eyes cross for a few moments and you only see sincerity in the green eyes of your interlocutor. You end up smiling and holding out a hand that she doesn’t hesitate to grasp. Only then do you notice the ring she’s wearing on her finger. It’s not an engagement ring, but the kind of ring you get for duck fishing at the fair. You find it strange that Lia is wearing something that is quite suitable for children.
"What is this ring?" you ask curiously.
It reminds you something, but you feel like you’re looking for a needle in a fog. Lia seems to have understood, since she looks at you briefly before answering you.
"What do you think?"
You bite your lip, searching again and again. Lia gives you time and unlike the exercises you do for your memory, you feel no pressure. Lia exudes kindness and the way her thumb caresses the back of your hand helps you a lot.
"I gave it to you."
You leave the ring colored rainbow to focus your eyes on Lia whose face is suddenly radiant. You don’t remember all the details, but you do remember the decor around you when you take out this plastic ring from its paper packaging. And of your insistence on putting it on Lia’s finger, the latter accepting not without rolling her eyes.
"Yes, it’s you" confirms Lia in a soft voice despite the excitement that seems to have gripped her.
"I don’t remember when it was" you mumble in an apology tone.
Meanwhile, Lia got up from her chair to sit on the mattress of your bed, on which you are sitting too. She always have her smile, a real smile this time. And when she affectionately passes her hand through your hair, you feel like butterflies in the hollow of your belly.
"It doesn’t matter" Lia gently says "It will come back. I know it."
You want to kiss her suddenly. You wonder what sensations her lips might give you. But, before you can answer this urge, knocks are made at the door of your room, letting in Katrina, Clara and Harper.
"I’ll leave you with your new guests" decides Lia.
You’re having a hard time covering up your disappointment, even though you’re happy to see Harper.
"I’ll see you tomorrow before we leave for Manchester." Lia informs you before putting a kiss on your head.
********
"Why does Lia looked sad when I told her I was going to live with Mackenzie?"
You are walking Leah Mom's dog with Leah, during a rather cloudly afternoon. You doctor asked you to stay in shape and because you're not ready to go back to training, you do as much as you can to move. You go to the stores walking and your coach sent you bodybuilding and endurance exercises to do every day.
Leah looked at you for some seconds, before answering you. You know you were friends before your accident, but you don't know if you talked to the other a lot. Still, you feel safe with her. You know you can talk to her.
"I feel like you already know the answer for this question."
You bite your lip, looking at Bella running after ducks. And Leah running after Bella soon after, trying to protect those poor ducks. When the blonde come back next to you like nothing happened, she pats your arm.
"Talk to her. Wally really cares about you and I'm sure she misses you"
"She said she will still come to see me. But she never came" you mumble, without looking at Leah.
You don't understand. You thought you were close and Lia's absence made you realize that you maybe have like a crush on her. Which is stupid, why in the world would she have interest in someone broken like you are? But you still miss her.
"She's going to kill me for saying that" Leah sighs, pinching the base of her nose, before looking at you "She thinks you are developing feelings for Macca. Like romantic feelings"
"What?! That's the stupidest thing I ever heard since my accident."
Well of course Mackenzie is sweet and you understand why she was your best friend before and you really like the idea that you can still have that after all that. Of course, you don't know her like Caitlin or Alanna does, but of all your teammates, she's the one you’re closest to.
Leah shrugs and call Bella to going back home.
"Like I said, talk to her."
You hum for any answer, your hands stuck in the pockets of your jogging and the brain turning a thousand an hour. It’s only after saying goodbye to Leah on her doorstep that you realize that it doesn’t explain why Lia would stop seeing you if you were really in love with Mackenzie.
She’s watching a movie with her own girlfriend when you come back home. Since they have been waiting for you to eat, you sit at the table with them and try to stay focused on the discussion, but your mind is elsewhere. You are relieved to have the opportunity to find the calm of the guest room, in which you decide to offer yourself a new piece of chocolate offered by Lia.
You were disappointed to find that no other square allowed you to remember other things as the first two times. This is the last squares you have left; you will have at worst the excuse to want extra chocolateif you need excuse to contact Lia.
Lying on your back, on your bed, you swallow the last chocolate crumbs you have left, your eyes fixed on the ceiling.
But, while you don’t expected more, a new flash comes dancing before your eyes.
The same living room, the same television, the same fireplace and the same laugh. Except this time when you turn your head, Lia is sitting next to you. She looks much happier than you’ve seen her since you opened your eyes. And the way she looks at you… Like you’re the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
When the image dissipates, you blink several times.
You remember.
Not necessarily in every detail and in order, but you remember.
You remember Lia, how much you hate that nickname of Wally that others give her, your relationship, your first kiss and the long weekend she took you to Switzerland.
You remember.
Your hands shaking, you’re getting out of bed. You’re as wrinkled as if you’d been running a whole game. Other memories are jostling in your head, but the only thing you want now is to go see Lia.
"I’m going to Lia's!" you shout at Mackenzie down the stairs.
You barely take the time to throw your coat on your shoulders before going out and slamming the door. When you see the rain falling on London, you congratulate yourself.
********
It’s with frowns that Lia picks up her phone some time later. There’s basically no reason for Caitlin to call her so late.
"Hello?"
"Lia? It’s Caitlin… Listen, I’m calling you from Mackenzie, she doesn’t have your phone number and uh… Did Y/N make it to your house?"
"Y/N? No? Why would she be at my house?"
Other voices are audible behind Caitlin and there are different noises before Mackenzie’s voice sounds in the phone.
"She left my house almost two hours ago, without her phone, telling me she was coming to your house."
"She’s not here" Lia replies, standing abruptly on her couch, feeling panic take hold of her. "Why did you let her go by herself?"
"I thought she ordered an Uber or something. But without her phone…"
"Do we call the police?" asks Lia.
"They will laugh in our faces" replies Katie’s voice, which is apparently there too.
It’s not surprising if Mackenzie went to see Caitlin. But this is probably not the time to ask these questions.
"I’ll go get my car and do some research in the neighborhood" Lia decides.
After deciding to do the same and giving herself directions not to turn in the same places, Caitlin and Lia hang up their phones before starting to look for you.
For your part, it’s not very glorious. Persuaded to find the way back to Lia’s house now that your memory has returned, you have dug into the streets without thinking too much. Except that you suddenly had a hesitation, then another and a third, which eventually led you to no longer know where you are. Or where you’re from.
To top it off, it’s still raining and you haven’t taken your medication to fight your chronic headaches since the accident.
Long story short, you are now in tears, sitting on a sidewalk of an unknown street, in the rain.
Finally, while she had lost hope, Lia sees your silhouette sitting out in the light of a lamppost. Her cry asking Leah, who came to the rescue, to stop, gives her a start of cardiac arrest. But the blonde obeys and Lia hurries out of the car, running in your direction.
You jump suddenly when someone sits next to you, your first reaction being to get as far away from that person as possible. But you realize quite quickly that it’s Lia and anyway she doesn’t leave you much choice by squeezing you suddenly in her arms. Hard.
“God, are you ok? What happened?” Lia asks, taking your face between her hands to look at you.
“I thought I can remember where you live, I needed to see you but then I got lost and I didn’t have my phone with me.”
“Why didn’t you call me?!”
Lia raised her voice a little and you flinch, but the Swiss woman seems to regret it as soon as it happened. She takes you once again against her, her arms firmly tightened around your body. It makes you feel safe. You’re tired, exhausted to be honest. But you know you still owe her an explanation.
“I wasn’t sure you will take my call. You said you will come to see me, and you didn’t even if I’m at Macca’s since almost two weeks now, and…”
“I’m so sorry” Lia cut you, looking at you with tears in her eyes. “But I just… I couldn’t.”
“It’s ok” you breath before staring deep into her eyes “I remember.”
A silence passes. Lia is looking at you, too.
“What?”
“I remember. My past, my childhood memories. It’s you who have a fireplace in your living room. I remember you, mein Schatz. I remember us.”
After that, it went a little chaotic. When Lia starts to cry for good, Leah almost gets out of her car, but then she see you both kiss and she understands. She takes her phone to ring Caitlin and let you some minutes before taking you both back in her car. She drops you at Lia’s, giving you one big hug before leaving you.
********
Hours later, you’re in Lia’s bed after a good hot shower. Lia gave you some fresh clothes and you can’t stop smelling them. They smell like her, like your girlfriend.
Your girlfriend who is actually looking at you like you will disappear at any moment. You can’t blame her though, so you just grab her hand and take her against you to kiss her.
“Why didn’t you tell me everything?” you mumble after the kiss.
“They didn’t want me to. They said it would be too much for you or that you won’t remember everything if we told you the truth. Your brother fights with the doctors against it, but he didn’t have the last word. I should have fight against it too, but I wanted what was the best for you, and they were the doctors, so…”
Lia shrugs, her head on the cushion, still looking at you. You can’t imagine what she went through.
“It must have been so hard for you” you whisper, stroking lightly at her face
“It was. But I knew I had to do if I wanted to have you back at some point. But then after you choose to go to Mackenzie’s and I kind of freak out. What if, even if you remember in some days, you realize that you’re in love with her and not me anymore?”
“I don’t. She always had been my friend, nothing more. It has always been you, since we crash your team” you add with a smirk.
You met Lia during a friendly game between Switzerland and England in 2022. Leah Williamson had made the presentation between you and since then you never stop talking. She asked you on a date after two weeks of texting, you said yes and everything went great since then. Even if you’re a West Ham player dating an Arsenal one.
“I thought you were with Leah, the first days after the accident” you confess at your girlfriend.
Lia frown, looking at you oddly.
“Why did you?”
“Dunno. You were like always together, but I understand now. I’m glad Leah was there for you.”
You are confident in your relationship. Even if the fans seems to like Lia and Leah together, you trust your girlfriend and your friend deeply. Plus, you’re kind of a fan of their friendship. Maybe people would find strange that your girlfriend went to live with another girl like Lia have done when Leah was injured, but you didn’t. You know how good Lia’s heart is.
“I love you” Lia whispers, before kissing you.
You smile against her lips and she doesn’t let you the time to answer before kissing you once again, hard this time. You let her. You still can tell her how much you love her later.
_________________________________________________
It’s way longer than I thought at first 😅
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
Text
cw: implied domestic abuse (zero detail is given)
Eddie was late for school at least once a week. It wasn’t a problem of getting up and getting ready on time, his mom made sure he was moving.
He could hear the way the new neighbors fought sometimes, saw the way the older boy would rush into his vehicle and practically fly out of the park. He’d watch as the younger girl, Red, would follow soon after, backpack slung over her shoulder and feet kicking rocks as she walked to the main road to catch the bus.
He didn’t stop her the first time it happened. To be honest, she looked furious and he didn’t exactly want to be torn to pieces by a girl at least 5 years younger than him.
But the second time, he swore he saw a few tears on her face and he couldn’t not at least try.
When she didn’t immediately murder him, he decided it was probably safe to offer a ride to school. Surprisingly, she agreed.
And this continued for months.
Annie Munson would get a call from the school every couple of times and try to explain, but any Munson excuse was not an excuse they cared to hear.
She didn’t say anything to Eddie about it; didn’t want him to feel like he was doing anything wrong by being kind to someone who needed all the kindness they could get. She saw the way Mrs. Mayfield seemed to stay curled into herself even when he wasn’t around. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.
But eventually, the school threatened to call child protective services, and Annie couldn’t let Eddie deal with that. He’d already had enough of that before they moved in with Wayne.
So she pulled him aside the night of that call and hugged him hard, told him she loved him for his big heart, his caring soul, but he had to figure out how to not be late to school.
He could read between the lines easily enough.
Max started showing up at their door 15 minutes earlier every morning, not quite smiling, but not looking quite as angry. Annie welcomed her in as she finished packing her lunch for work, didn’t really try to talk to her much. She left that to Eddie, who always came down the short hallway with a beaming smile and a “Hey Red! Long time no see!” or a “You’re looking slightly less murderous this morning, did you already sacrifice something to Satan? Without me?”
Max always tried to hide a smile, but Annie caught it.
Eddie had that energy that made everyone feel just a hint of sun on a cloudy day.
It continued well into Max’s freshman year. Especially after her step brother died in a tragic mall fire and her step dad booked it out of town, she needed someone.
At school, they pretended not to know each other. Eddie explained it was easier on Max that way, and she had other friends, or so she said. He never really saw her hanging out with them, but he just assumed they had different schedules.
Annie saw through it. She was pretty sure Eddie saw through it. Neither of them risked her running for the hills, though.
- - - -
After the earthquake, Annie spent as much time with Eddie and Max as she could. Max’s mom seemed distant, like she couldn’t process any of what happened. Max deserved better than that, so Annie did her best.
It was easy to forget how young she was when she spoke. The boy who sat by her side nearly 24/7, Lucas, explained that she had to fend for herself since she was pretty young, as if she still wasn’t pretty young.
As soon as Eddie was able to leave his bed, he asked to be wheeled over to Max’s room.
“Gotta make sure she didn’t perform any satanic rituals without me,” he joked, though it fell flat when it hit him that most people still thought he actually performed satanic rituals.
Annie had to get home and make dinner for her and Wayne, so the Harrington boy volunteered to take him.
Annie was perceptive enough to see why the Harrington boy, Steve, was around nearly every day. She was also perceptive enough to see the way Eddie blushed when Steve wrapped his arm around his waist to help him into the wheelchair. She’d ask him about it later.
She did at least walk with them to the elevator, listened to their quiet conversation about Max being half blind and her arms being in casts.
The next day, she visited Eddie as usual before work, brought him a hot coffee. He was still asleep, his hand stretched out towards a sleeping Steve. Steve’s fingers were just barely touching Eddie’s, like they’d maybe been holding hands at some point until someone shifted in their sleep.
She set the coffee down on the table by his bed and scratched a note on the pad he’d been using for campaign notes.
Maybe they could bring Steve a cot if he’s gonna be a permanent fixture in your room. Love, mama
She folded it in half and set the coffee cup on top of it so hopefully only Eddie would see.
But if Steve saw it, maybe that would be okay.
- - - -
When Max got out of the hospital, Eddie was waiting for her in his van, only just released from police custody a few days before.
She shook her head.
“I may actually have to do a satanic ritual to get into that thing. I thought Steve was getting me in his car?”
The nurses scoffed at her words, but Eddie ignored her.
“Steve had to take Robin to the school for volunteering. And I brought Lucas to help,” he gestured behind him to where Lucas was hesitantly standing by the passenger door. “Between the two of us, we can get you in and out. No satanic ritual required. This time.”
He winked at the nurse, just to be a shit.
“Annie said she’d bring me cake when I got home,” Max said as they maneuvered her into the passenger seat and waved the nurse away.
“She’s at home baking it as we speak, Red.”
“Oh.” She said it like she actually didn’t believe it would happen. Maybe she didn’t. “Cool. I guess.”
Eddie smirked. “When my mama says she’ll do something, she does it. And if she can’t, she’ll do the next best thing. Never doubt her.”
“Yeah, but I’m not her kid.”
“Neither is Lucas, but she packed him lunches everyday for the last two weeks when she realized he wasn’t leaving your room to get something. Neither is Steve, but she makes his favorite for dinner once a week. Neither is Dustin, but she held him until his mom could get to the hospital when they were trying to set his ankle. If she cares about you, she does it.”
Max nodded. “I guess that’s a nice thing to have.”
“Yeah. And you have it now. So don’t push her away. Or any of us. Got it?”
Max snorted. “I haven’t had a moment alone in over a month. It’s not like I can get rid of any of you.”
“Exactly. Glad we’re on the same page!”
She turned to Lucas the best she could and glared. “You’re taking me to the movies as soon as these casts are off.”
“Yeah! Okay, yep!” He agreed quickly.
Eddie snorted. “Jesus Christ. You two are ridiculous.”
“Whatever,” they said in unison.
- - - -
When everyone was able to go back to school, Eddie drove them all.
He had a diploma, so he didn’t have to worry about being late, but he still woke up early enough to pick them all up and drop them off.
Max was always the last one out of the van.
“No satanic rituals without me,” Eddie would tell her.
“Not until Saturday!” Max would answer him.
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iouinotes · 4 months
Text
Beautiful Boy | Alex Walter
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pairing: Alex Walter x female!reader
show: My life with the Walter Boys
warnings: mostly fluff and love confessions, but a bit of implied sexual activities
word count: 4,6k
summary: You are completely in love with your best friend. When the chance is given, you decide to finally take it and show your love.
a/n: The story will mention a review from the past, where they play truth or dare. So, I was inspired to write that scenario: match made in heaven is here!
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He's everything I ever wished for. It´s silly, thinking about it, really. My ongoing crush for him since the first time I met him all these years ago.
It was during the first day after the winter holiday. It was dark outside, very cold and rainy weather. Well, unfortunately it did not look like that in the morning, so I instantly panicked after school, because I forgot to bring my jacket. Normally one of my friends picked me up after school and drove me home, but she was sick today and I heard about her being ill, last minute.
So now I´m standing in the hallway, debating if I should better start to go to the bus station (probably getting soaked) or if I just walk to the school library, hoping that the weather cools down. I was drowning in my own thoughts, when I first heard his voice.
"Are you okay?" The second my eyes landed on him, I was gone for good. Because the boy in front of me was utterly beautiful. Handsome round face, freckles, warm brown eyes and a shy smile. One look at him and I fell in love with his beauty. Little did I know, I would soon fall head over heals for his personality or the way his voice sounds when he is making fun of me, because I believe in love at first sight. How could I not, when I have met him?
He was very caring the first time we met. Even though I was embarrassed of my situation, he made me feel comfortable. When I told him about my difficulty, he instantly helped me out. He told me, that his brother also picked him up from school every day, so it wouldnt be a problem, if I came along. Not only this sweet gesture made me speechless, it was also the way he stripped out of his jacket and gave it to me without hesitation, when we went outside and he saw that I didnt bring a jacket.
"What? No, I can´t-" I tried to argue, but one blink of his lashes, one look at his eyes, was enough to keep me occupied. "My mom would kill me, if I didnt. It´s okay, I dont mind." He really was the sweetest. His jacket kept in fact, keep me warm. And it also smelled like him, thats what made me blush in the end. I didnt know, if he noticed me looking at him from time to time (but then again, he nowadays didnt noticed it either), but I could not contain myself.
He was a gentleman, shy and adorable. He was all I wished for in a guy. When his brother - who I idetified as the most popular guy of our school- Cole, came in sight, only then it clicked. The boy in front of me, with his nervous smile, was Alex Walter.
When the car parked and the headlights were visible in the rain, we quickly ran to the blue vehicle. His brother didnt talk much, so the car ride was mostly quiet, my eyes were out the window and my thoughts were on Alex previous gesture of holding the door open for me. He didnt intend for me to fall in love with him, but I couldnt think of anything else to do, better than exactly that.
"I didnt get your name?" was all he said, when the car stopped in front of my house. "Oh right, sorry. Im y/n." He smiled again at me and my heart wanted to jump out off my chest. I didnt really notice Cole in the front and his famous "Cole effect". I was all catched up, by the beautiful boy next to me.
"Alex" he shook my hand and it made me giggle. I saw his ears turning pink at my laughter, so I smiled at him, so he knew I wasnt making fun of him. He relaxed then, but much to my dislike the blonde brother spoke up, before I could say something else. "I dont have all day, so are you two done looking at each other or can you go now? I swear, I saw y´all nearly kiss." At that, I was the one who turned red. "Sorry, thanks for the ride and-" as I wanted to strip off the jacket, Alex stopped my movements. "Oh no, you can have it. I mean- it´s still raining outside, I-I dont want you to get sick." Maybe I was already at that exact moment, falling in love with him. I also think, that his words made my cheeks turn a shade of red, that wasnt even on a scala anymore, because it was so high.
"But when do I give it back to you?" The last thing I wanted to do, was crossing a line with the Walter brothers. And maybe I also hoped to see him again. "Tomorrow? I will be in the gaming room in third grade. If thats okay with you?" He spoke quickly, because Cole kept getting more annoyed. "No, its fine. Thank you, Alex." I kissed him on the cheek (dont know where that one came from) and before I could look back, I was already out of the car and running towards the house. When I opened the door and the warmth embraced me, I looked out of the window from my house. The car was already gone, but I remember smiling so bright, I almost could not contain the happy feeling that consumed me.
That was the first time, my diary heard of Alex Walter.
The next day, I searched through three gaming rooms before I finally found him, starring at his laptop. As soon as I tapped him gently on the shoulder, he turned around and looked at me suprised. When he asked me, if I had had any trouble finding him, I said "what no, it took five minutes", when in reality it took 20 minutes, but he sounded really sincere, so it didnt matter.
That was the start of our ever-lasting friendship. We became best friends quickly and are verly close ever since, he is my other half. We are always together, in the hallway, at lunch, we see each other at the weekends and we even got the price "the best of best friends" by our friendgroup. I mean it was funny and its nice, really. But it says everything. We are just friends.
It´s very funny actually, because he knows me better than anyone and I can´t keep one secret from him. He just knows, when something is up. But my biggest secret of all time, that was the part where he was clueless about.
My love for him.
He just doesnt notice and I tried to not show it, but everyone knows I like him. Well, expect for him. When I look at him too long, because I (again) got lost in his eyes or looked a second too long at his lips, while he talked, he thinks he has something on his face. When I compliment him, for literal anything, he thinks I make fun of him, so he doesn't take it seriously. And I tried almost everything, so he could finally notice. Maybe then he could make the first move.
I once talked about my ideal type, because it was a truth or dare on my birthday party and I literally described him - he didnt notice. I swoon on a daily basis over his beauty, his intelligence , his personality, his habits, his cute flaws like staying up all night to play a video game - he doesnt know. I tried to learn his favorite video game, I read the Lord of the Rings saga, I even watched baseball games with him, I do anything so he will notice, how much I care about him. But he just doesn't get it.
If I would know, he simply didnt like me that way, I could somehow cope with that. But then, there are moments, where I would catch him starring at me, where he seems to be the one wanting me. He watches romantic movies with me and lets me cry about it after, when I´m sad about the ending, Sometimes I even get to lay on his chest. He listens when I talk about my newest book obsession, he goes shopping with me, even though he hates it. He helps me studying and I can tell him anything, he´s always there for me.
So it could be, that maybe my feelings were not completely unrequited. But then again, why didnt he made a move by now? Nevertheless, it keeps me awake at night. Because I want nothing more than to kiss his soft lips, feel his skin against mine, to look at his eyes and study every single freckle from his neck to his forehead. I want to love him. In a way, he knows it.
These feelings, these thoughts are constantly in my head. Especially now, when I sit across him and simply look at his concentrated face. His eyebrows are drawn together, he´s currently biting on his bottom lip, his nose scrunched in a frown. The light of his room shows me every little detail of his face. In moments like this, on a friday evening, where we study together for a biology test, I wish he would know how I feel about him. Because it would make everything so much easier.
Its currently raining outside, a remember of our first encounter, the clouds are dark and I hear loud thunder since the last couple of minutes went by. "Do you think, it will get better? The weather clearly looks bad." I shift my gaze to look at him and when I catch him starring at me, my heart swells in my chest.
I want to break the distant between us and close the gap of our lips. Want to get to know every little detail of his body. But as he speaks up, I clear my head. "I dont know, Danny said something about a storm. I honestly didnt know, it would be that bad." He closes his textbook and stands up, looking out the window. ,,Should I go?" My question suprises him. "Now? I think if you take a step outside, you will get swept up by your feet. It´s not safe." He looks at me unwary. "I dont know, I always wanted to fly. Maybe thats a sign." I grin at him and he laughs quietly. "Yeah, of course. Let me ask my dad, what he thinks is for the best. Maybe he can get you an umbrella and you do your best Mary Poppins impression."
~~~~~~
30 minutes later I find myself in a full-on Walter-family-disscussion. "But uncle! I dont get to have girls stay overnight. Thats unfair!" Lee is looking at George, unable to hide his jealousy. "When did a girl ever wanted to stay overnight with you?" Isaac asks from across the table. Lee just ignores him, an angry look in his eyes.
"Look, its nothing that I will allow forever. But right now, she cant go home, so she is welcomed to stay here." I smile at him, thankful that I´m not getting thrown out. "Also, she is like a thirteen family member. She´s practically living here." George added. One look at Alex and I wanted to know what he was thinking. Was I just like a sister to him? "Okay enough of that. Y/n, dear you are welcome to stay the night. We will figure it out. Nathan is staying with Skylar, so his bed is free." I´m glad, Katherine is here. I thank her and George and by the time, we ate dinner and Alex got me a toothbrush, so I could get ready for bed, it was late after 11.
As I make my way back to Alex's room after using the bathroom to change into my clothes, leaving me with shorts and a shirt, Cole is suddenly standing next to me. "Well, what a great opportunity for you." He grins at me. At his comment, I am visible confused. "What do you mean?" I look up to his smiling figure. "You have him all by yourself, of course. Your chance to finally do something. I can´t stand it anymore, you like him and he likes you. I always thought you were the clever one out of you two, so please put everyone out of this misery and kiss him, because he´s a complete idiot. It's long overdue for you two to get together."
His words leave me stunned. After he´s done talking, he makes his way silently back to his own room and I´m still standing in the hallway, trying to process his words. Kiss him. He likes you. Does Alex really likes me or is that some cruel joke for Cole? I hope not. Because my friends have told me several times, that they think, Alex likes me too. But I always thought, they were wrong.
My heart is heavily pounding as I make my way back to his room, taking a deep breath as I open the door. Alex is playing a video game, as always, but I see that he also changed into something more comfortable. It helps me calm down my nerves, when I see him doing something, he always does. I take a few steps towards his chair and his concentrated figure.
I mean, what was there in life, if I didnt take any risks? If he likes me back, it could be the answer to all my dreams and if not - well, the weather was still going pretty bad and could help me out of the awkward situation.
When I decided to test their he-likes-you-too-theory, I quickly came up with a plan. Okay, so I wasnt the best at flirting, that was for sure, but I could make a move. For starters, I wanted something, I often thought about.
As I stand behind him, I trace my fingers along his shoulders, hearing his surprised breath, that he quickly tries to hide. Well too bad, I heard it.
"Alex?" My voice is quiet.
"...yes?" I can see his muscles tense, while I keep touching his shoulders, going lower until I touch his arm. Something about what Cole said, about Alex liking me, gives me a certain confidence, that wasnt there before. Please dont let the King of hooking up be wrong.
"Could I borrow one of your hoodies? I´m freezing and only have my shirt." I try not to think about the possibility that he laughs in my face and says no. But then again, I know that Alex wouldnt do that. "I-uh, yeah. You can, um, grab one out of my closet." I smile to myself, when I see his eyes nervously scanning the display. He paused the game, even though he doesnt look at me while he talks.
"Thanks." As I turn towards his closet, I get the feeling that he´s secretly watching me choose a hoodie. When I get a hold on a dark green one, I immediately know its the one from when we first met. I take it and walk towards the other bed, getting a glimpse of his eyes, that continue to follow me. And then I do something, I thought I would never do in front of him. I change out of my top, the cold air hitting my skin and I hear him gasps.
When I change into his hoodie, a settling warmth embraces me. I smile to myself, a joy blooms in my chest, the feeling of wearing his clothes, makes me feel too good to be true. The shorts I´m wearing are the same ones as before and I think, that I kinda like the casual look. And maybe it looks fine, that could be a good way to get Alex attention. My shorts cover my thighs, but because his hoodie is bigger than what I normally wear, this way it looks like I only wear his hoodie.
When I turn around and fix my hair, he already started another game again. Okay, mission getting-some-sort-of-reaction, is starting to get interesting. "Soo, what do you think? Too big?" I wait for his reaction. When he slowly turns around, one hand holding up his headphones, I see him trying not to stare too hard. But since I see his eyes scanning my body, it´s impossible for him to pretend. I smile to myself.
"And?" I make a step in his direction, watching him swallow. His eyes wander to the floor and a nervous expression crosses his face. "I- I need to finish this game so-" he turns around so fast, I´m almost surprised his neck didnt broke. Shit. That wasnt part of the plan. I glance around the room, trying to come up with something, another way to keep his attention at me. I sit on his bed, near his computer and decide to watch him play. I hear the sound of the game playing in the background, while I continue to think of a way for him to notice me.
And even though I keep my hands to myself, I see him sqirming in his seat. I laugh quietly. "Everything okay?" it seems he isnt that concentrated anymore. "Yeah, uh, are you bored? You never watch me play." His head turns to look at me. "You could teach me some moves." I say, looking at him and then the game, that shows a spider attacking some creature. He raises his eyebrows at my words.
"You sure? I thought you didnt like video games." My eyes wander to his lap as I quickly come up with a plan. "Maybe I will like it, if you show me some tricks. And also, I like you and you´re really interested in gaming, so I thought I could make an effort." His cheeks are blushing, my eyes are starring at his clueless ones.
A smile tucks at his lips, but he tries to keep his cool. "I mean, I´m really good at this, so I could teach you one or two lessons. Where do you want to sit? I only have one gaming chair, but-" he glances around the room, trying to come up with something.
"Well, we could share?" I ask, my voice sounding sincere and not as much thrilled at the idea, to sit in his lap, even though I am freaking out in my thoughts. His eyes widen, when he realizes what I just said.
"You want to-" he doesn't finish his sentence, stuttering at the idea of me sitting on his lap. "If thats okay with you, of course? I think its the best solution, I mean I do want the full experience. So its fair." I see him nervously licking his lips. "Yeah, yeah. I get that. Okay, cool, how do you want to-" I smile at him and his nervous speech. "Just relax, I dont bite. You do know that, right?" I laugh when I see his ears turning pink.
"Right. So uh, come here, I guess?" He puts his arms on the armrests to give me good access and I feel myself getting nervous. God, I never got to be this close to him. I stand up, his eyes take my form in his sweater in, I see him starring at the naked skin. And when I see something shining in his hair, I act without a second thought.
"You have something in your hair, dummy." It's a little paper ball from Benny, probably from the previous dinner (fight), I lean myself down, facing him forward in his lap and cross my legs over his thighs. I don't notice what position we are in until I lean back to show him the piece of paper and suddenly, I'm just a few centimeters from his face. Shocked by the less to no space we have left between us, he doesn't speak and neither do I. We just look at each other.
"i-i got it." The words leave my mouth, the distance between our faces -god his lips look so soft- leaves me speechless. It takes him a moment, but when he answers he sounds just as out of breath as me.
"thanks."
Again, we sit in silence. Suddenly I loose my balance and I almost fall out of the chair, but his arms are quick to catch me. So now, he has his arms around my waist and my arms linger around his shoulders for support. If I would lean closer, I could kiss him.
The thought of kissing him, makes me sqirm and when he lays his hands onto my waist to still my movements, I feel dizzy. Because Im not just sitting on his legs. Indeed, I sit literally on his lap. So when I feel myself getting wet, because he makes me so touch starved, I completely loose my mind.
"Im sorry- i didnt mean to sit that way. I just-" his eyes are so fascinating, brown, green and warm. It feels like he´s looking at my soul. He´s watching my every move. I know I should probably get up, but its the first time, he is that close to me and I cant stop looking at him.
Without a thought in my head, I raise my hand and touch his cheek. I see his lips breaking apart, so he can draw a surprised breath. "You have so many freckles everywhere." My eyes wander around his face. His voice comes back to life for a second, but only to sign. "Too many, actually." I draw my eyebrows together.
"It suits you and it´s not too much. Thats a perfectly fine amount of freckles. Look-" I start to count them. Each and every one. Starting from his ears towards his cheeks, his nose, further down until I stop at his lips. "You have one right above the corner of your mouth." I mutter, my thumb brushes his lips for a second.
Caught, my eyes sneak back to search his gaze. But he just looks at me. My heart feels like it could break any second, if I dont open my mouth to say something.
"You are" I begin to say "so beautiful to me. Every freckle you have, the colour of your eyes, your hair, your lips, your voice, just you."
I cant hold back anymore.
"i-i love you, Alex. I really do. I thought it would just be a crush that would go away, when time goes on, but it hasnt. You´re in every piece of my heart, you hold it together. You are my joy, my laugh, my sadness, you were everything for me, the first second I got to know you. Because you are the best person in my life, my best friend, my other half, my partner in crime, I would bail you out of jail in a heartbeat. Without you, my heart wouldn't beat anymore anyway. Because you make it live. Every day, every time I see you. Maybe if I would have known better, I would have never agreed to take your jacket, the first time we met. If I would have known, how absolutely in love I would get with you, it would have scared me to death. But now? Now I know better than to be away from you, because I better live as your best friend than without having you in my life. Because now, being away from you would be my death."
In one second, I bail my heart out and before I know it, he takes my face in his hands and leans forward. He stops his movement right before our lips touch.
"I think you will be the death of me too, sweetheart."
And with that, he kisses me.
Slow at first, his lips touch mine, so very soft and gentle. I almost think I´m dreaming, because his lips do feel like a dream to me. His hands caress my back and I clutch to his shoulders, afraid the moment will end. His warm hands strive back to my cheeks, tilding my head in a way he can have more access.
And I let him, mainly because I´m too caught up with this emotion and also because I would let him do anything with me. My hands are in his dark hair, gently tugging at his strings, so I get to hear that little breathless sound he makes, that makes my heart flutter.
I sink in his warm embrace, moving my lips with the same rhythm as him, hearing my heartbeat in my ears. His right hand goes to the back of my neck and this action makes me weak in the knees. And he notices it. Gently he breaks apart, leaving me with the want to have more of him and when I open my eyes - I didnt know I closed them - he looks at me, like I´m the sun and he´s the moon, that was away for too long.
"God, you´re so beautiful." His voice is deep, I can hear him catch his breath. His words make my heart ache until I think it isnt able to comprehend his compliment. I feel his lips again, my eyes flutter at the contact. One hand around my hip, holding me steady and the other one, around my neck, making me unsteady.
"alex-" a moan wants to escape me, but I try to hold myself together. His lips leave my mouth and trail further down, finding a spot at the curve of my neck.
"god, yes. Say my name again." I´m pretty sure, I never wanted him more than now.
My hands linger in his hair, I feel his hot breath on my skin and clench my thighs together. He is making me feel all worked up. As his lips leave that spot, I whimper his name, but as soon as his mouth leaves my body, he reconnects with it.
Brushing my hair aside, he kisses me again for a second before he lets go of me. With that, im completely convinced he hates me, the way he´s making me suffer. I hear him quietly laugh, so I slowly open my eyes to watch his face.
"You look drunk on love. Are you alright?" He smiles at me, looking at me, like he didnt just turn my world up site down (and my panties wet, by the way).
"What?" I ask, catching my breath. His skin glows and as I watch every detail of his face (how could I not), I almost miss his next sentence. "I would have never thought that this was your idea of gaming." I feel his shoulders move, when he tries to keep himself from laughing.
I gently smile and roll my eyes. "You are just too handsome for me, to concentrate on anything other than you." His cheeks turn red and there´s a glimmer in his eyes, that makes me feel completed. "So that´s why you have bad grades in math, maybe I shouldnt be sitting next to you then." His joke makes me laugh.
"Well, maybe you can give me some private lessons, so I could improve." At that, he opens his mouth, but no words are said. "Too stunned to speak?" I lean forward, his eyes follow my lips. "You just never flirted with me, its distracting." He looks up.
I just shake my head. One of my hands sneaks around to linger at his cheek. "Oh, trust me. I have. You just never noticed." His eyebrows rise. "Thats a shame. But I guess I have now." He catches my lips.
Yes, he definitely did notice me now.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months
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the dead ringer
buttercup, chapter three
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a/n: yeah, this did happen to me in real life, although it happened on a bus so i couldn't immediately get away... ANYWAYS! enjoy this hurt/comfort heavy chapter!
summary: “I think I know something that might help a bit.”
warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, crying, panic attacks, matt using his superpowers for the sake of hurt/comfort, boxing
word count: 2057
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Drizzling the flour into the wide bowl, like a dusty snowfall, you watched the number on the scale carefully as you neared the desired number. Though just before you hit it, Walter’s head suddenly poked in through the doorway leading behind the counter and interrupted you and Howard’s all-too-important discussion on what the day’s music choice should be. 
“Hey, Y/n? There’s someone here to see you.”
Laying down the scoop still holding a bit of flour, you dragged your palms down the brown apron tied around your frame and exited the kitchen. A bright smile spread across your face and crinkled up your gaze as you spotted who was standing on the other side of the counter. 
“Matt, hey–, oh my god,” you then suddenly noticed the bruising that blossomed out from under his tinted glasses and stretched up over the patched-up scrape that split his left brow, “what happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just wasn’t paying attention last night, tripped and fell, that’s all,” he waved a hand, “I just wanted to stop by on my way to work, get a round of coffees to-go for everyone and perhaps some breakfast for myself, just whatever you think I’d like.”
“You’ll let me pick?” your eyebrows rose slightly. 
But Matt simply smiled and said, “I trust your judgment,” his grip shifted gently on the cane standing tall before his chest. 
As you moved to make the coffees, “alright,” you drew out a pondering breath, “are you in the mood for something sweet or savoury?”
Thinking about it a second, he uttered, “savoury.”
“Do you like sandwiches?” you popped the lids on the to-go cups. When he nodded, you placed the coffees in a little cardboard tray, “okay, I think you’ll like this one,” grabbed a brown paper bag and moved further down the counter, “it’s made with focaccia and has pesto in it as well as some tomatoes and cheese and stuff.” 
“That sounds amazing.”
“I also–, you know what? I’ll be right back,” you then abruptly turned and momentarily disappeared into the kitchen, grabbing a few of the pillowy buns still on the cooling rack into a bag. As you returned, you also snuck a hand into the display case and stuffed a few other goodies into the sack, “just for the others, if they want,” you placed the bundle onto the counter beside the coffees, “I just pulled them out of the oven a bit ago and they’re still warm.”
“What is it?” Matt tilted his chin. 
“Uh, some raisin buns, but I also threw two croissants in there in case they didn’t like raisins...” 
A soft smile warmed his bruised features as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, “what do I owe you?”
“Oh no,” your hands waved lightly before you, “it’s on the house.”
“Y/n, come on,” he cocked his head. 
“Fine,” you light-heartedly sighed, “if you really wanna sing for your supper, then I’ll cash it in at a later date. I don’t know, maybe if I get arrested someday or something you could help me out.”
“You don’t have to bribe me with free baked goods for that.”
“No, but it sure doesn’t hurt, does it?” you chuckled. 
“No,” he joined in as he reached for the bags, “I guess it doesn’t.”
“You want some help carrying it?” you asked, hope seeping through your tone, “I could take my break and walk with you the rest of the way.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, we just got through the morning rush, they’ll be fine without me for–, I don’t know, 15 minutes or however long it’ll take to walk to your office and back.”
“Alright, thanks,” he smiled, one paper bag hooked in the fingers that also clutched the cane.  
“I’m just gonna go grab my jacket, one second,” you said before ducking into the back to do so, letting your uncles know as you slipped out of your comfortable work clogs and into your sneakers. 
You ended up dividing the load, with you carrying the coffees and the last bag in one arm, though a few protests left you at first, begging him to let you carry all of it, they melted away as his free hand enveloped yours. 
When you reached his office, your arms wrapped around his frame as you hugged him long enough for your heartbeats to sync up, and just as you pulled away, his wide palms still warm on your back, you leaned in and planted a brief peck on his scruffy cheek. 
One of his hands swept up to meet the side of your face as your lips retracted. You pulled back so slowly that you weren’t sure you were moving at all, being drawn in by his warmth like a moth to a flame. 
His nose gently grazed against yours as he let himself linger, but just as your eyes fluttered shut in expectance that he’d kiss you, his warmth withdrew and he slowly breathed, “have a good day.” 
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In a matter of seconds, you had gone from giggling, glancing down at some silly joke on your phone as you walked home, to panic instantly kicking in as a passerby’s voice pierced your soul and made your blood run cold.
Glancing around, you saw a stranger standing off to the side and yapping into his phone. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t Michael, but it sounded exactly like him, so much so that the tone sent your body right back to that very night as if no time had passed at all.
Willing your body to move, forcing it to conquer the short rest of the way home, once your front door shut behind you and your quiet apartment consumed you, painful sobs began to burst out of your trembling frame. Hyperventilating, you crashed into the nearby wall of the entryway directly across from the door, incapable of getting deeper into your home. 
Soon, a quiet and surprising knock found your door. 
“Y/n?” the worried tone of your neighbour sounded from the other side. 
Your shaky voice came out no louder than a whisper, “M-Matt?” 
There might not have been any other instances you could recall where accidentally forgetting to lock your door turned out for the better, because when Matt then tried the handle, it gently complied. 
Shutting it behind him, he rushed to you, “hey, hey,” he uttered softly, a hand soothingly finding your arm, “what’s going on?”
Attempting an answer, “I–, I–,” only incoherent sobs managed to seep from you. 
“Okay, alright,” he sucked in a controlled breath, one of his hands sliding up to the strap of your backpack, “how about we start by getting all the way inside, huh?” gently gliding it off you and resting the bag on the floor. 
You let yourself lean into him fully as he supported you on the short journey towards the couch. Wobbly taking a seat, his touch left you as he settled beside you.
Spine curving, you buried your puffy face in your trembling hands, letting the whole world drift away as small lakes were birthed within your palms from your pain. 
When the sobs eventually began to subsite, growing further and farther apart, your frame slowly unfurled. Instinctively flicking your hands before your form, you tried to physically shake even a fraction of the excruciating sensation off of you, but without success. 
Matt hadn’t moved an inch, simply stayed there right beside you. 
When your quiet voice eventually filled space, it came out broken and overflowing with emotion, “I thought it was him… it wasn’t, b-but it sounded exactly like him… I’ve done double takes every time I saw a stranger with the same haircut or felt nauseous every time I encountered the same name, but this really did sound like him. Same voice, same accent, same everything… but it wasn’t him… it wasn’t… it just sent me right back, you know?”
Hesitantly, you grasped his hand in yours, expecting the contact to only make it worse, to somehow taint and ruin his wonderful and soothing touch, but it didn’t, he didn’t. It was Matt. 
Trying to regain control of your breathing, you shakily sucked in deep breaths, feeling your gulps of air slowly become calmer and migrate from the very top of your chest, down to expand your sore stomach. Eyes only half open and utterly exhausted, you noticed that your head was now leaning against Matt’s shoulder. 
Glancing hazily down at yourself, you muttered, “fuck… I still have my shoes and jacket on…”
Reaching down, he offered, “here,” before sliding your coat off, resting it on the back of the couch, and leaning down to pull your shoes off. 
Curling your legs up onto the couch, the shift in your position offered you more relief than you’d expected. As you attempted to get as comfortable as you possibly could in the state you were in, you snatched up Matt’s hand once more. 
Offering your palm a soothing squeeze, he asked quietly, “what do you need, huh? What can I do?”
“I–…” you thought, your brain just as drained as your body was, “I don’t know… maybe–… maybe just be here a bit?”
Exhaling lowly, he flashed you a faint smile, “of course.”
Glancing down at his fingers, sweeping across your own, you said, “hey, Matt? Could you maybe–, uh… could you give me a hug?”
Not hesitating, his strong arms engulfed your quivering frame and a fresh wave of sobs swiftly bubbled out of you as he held you tight, though your cries didn’t push him away, he stayed steadfast, embracing you close till the eruption ultimately simmered down, leaving you nearly asleep against his tear-stained shoulder. 
As he gently lowered you down to lay on the couch, you tightened your grip on his shirt as he began to pull back, ushering him to sink down as well, allowing you to curl into his safe embrace and let slumber drift you away. 
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When you finally stirred, the sun was nowhere to be seen. 
“Hey,” you blinked up at Matt still in the exact same spot as before. 
“Hey,” you replied groggily, “what time is it?” swiftly fishing your phone out of your pant pocket before Matt could conjure an answer, “oh, fuck… it’s nearly midnight… did you sleep as well?”
“Not really,” he shrugged, “maybe for a little bit, but no.”
“Oh…” you breathed, averting your gaze. 
“How are you feeling?” his thumb swiped your waist where his broad palm was planted. 
“…I don’t know…” you exhaled, “…exhausted… sad… angry… really fucking angry… so angry that it kinda scares me…” 
After a beat of silence, with only your woeful breaths filling the space, Matt then uttered, “I think I know something that might help a bit.”
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Your gaze drifted from the faded paint on the walls to the worn punching bags as you and Matt sat on the edge of the central ring and his fingers worked at wrapping up your hands. 
“Do you come here a lot?” you asked, your vision gliding back to him. 
“From time to time,” he tilted his head slightly, “reminds me of my dad,” tucking the last end of the strip under the weave, securing it into place, he closed your hand into a fist and exhaled, “alright, you’re ready,” he adjusted your grip, briefly offering your wrist a squeeze as he said, “just remember to keep your wrist strong and your thumb right here,” he slid your finger down below your knuckles. 
You hadn’t gone into it with much hope, in fact, it was only out of your desperation just feel better that you even humoured the experiment. In the beginning, it did feel as silly as you’d imagined, nearly stopped completely, but at some point in the mess of it all, your punches grew more ferocious, they grew more brutal, and suddenly something inside of you snapped and unravelled. It wasn’t some magic pill, but the physical act did loosen something within you and gave away to a fresh release of sobs, though not the painful and unbearable kind you’d had to endure earlier. It was the kind that felt like relief. Even if it wasn’t permanent, in that very moment, you didn’t feel like you were drowning anymore. 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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Hybrid!txt when you smell like someone else
Warnings: gender neutral reader, but for Taehyun's reader is mentioned to have a boyfriend. I should probably mention that when I write hybrids, I don't really picture people with animal features like ears and tails, just animal senses and behaviours? That should help this make more sense. This could also work for werewolves if you prefer to imagine it that way!
Note: this has been sitting in my drafts for months, it kept getting pushed back by other ideas. So glad to get it out. Please let me know which is your favourite scenario!
☆ gender neutral reader
Soobin
You were standing in the kitchen filling the sink with water to start the dishes when you heard the front door. It was game night; the night your boyfriend and his friends ordered in dinner and hogged the TV to play games until they wore each other out, or on some occasions, to tears. So you didn't mind doing the dishes tonight, even though it was technically Soobin’s turn.
"Yah, what's that smell?”
You turned to see Soobin and Beomgyu appear in the kitchen, bags from the convenience store slung over Beomgyu’s shoulder, a telltale sign that he'd lost at rock paper scissors. “Hi guys.”
"Is someone here?" Soobin asked, glancing down the hallway. You shook your head and he immediately dropped his confused expression, his face scrunching in disgust. “Then what smells like dog?”
"I don't... oh. It's probably my new boss, we had a meeting today." After all the time you'd been with Soobin, all the time you'd spent around his friends, you were still not that used to this whole thing. You couldn't always spot their kind, and sometimes you forgot about your boyfriend's intense senses, though you had gotten better since you started dating.
Beomgyu placed the bags atop the counter and scratched the back of his head. "The other guys will be here in a minute, so..." He looked up at Soobin who met his eyes.
This was another thing that happened often. It was like they could just lock eyes and know what the other was thinking without saying a word. The two seemed to finish their silent conversing, turning back to you, matching grins growing on their faces. Your eyes darted between the two of them, trying to get a clue as to what you were left out of the loop about, before they were coming at you. Sandwiching you between them, they both began rubbing their cheeks against yours, scenting you as you squirmed.
"Is this what you're going to smell like every day now?" Soobin asked into your hair.
Beomgyu was finding this funny, his laughter in your ear as you whined in complaint. "You reek! Maybe it's time to find a new job."
Once they were satisfied with their work, they stood back, chuckling at how mussed up your hair was from their handiwork. You pouted up at them and they were even more amused.
The doorbell rang before Yeonjun let himself in, the door still being unlocked. He waltzed into the kitchen with Taehyun in tow. "Who's ready to get whoop-" his face fell and his eyes began to search the floor, before looking between you and Soobin, brows furrowed. "Did you guys get a dog or something?"
Before Beomgyu or Soobin could do anything except smirk at you, you were turning on your heel and announcing that you were going to take a shower.
Yeonjun
When he arrives home, straight away his senses hone in on your jacket hanging over the porch railing, soaking wet—yet still he can smell what you've tried to erase. As soon as you hear his key in the door you’re there explaining, before he can utter a single word.
"This guy at the bus stop was all over me. I had to get a different bus so he wouldn’t be with me on the way here."
He stops midway through taking off his own coat, the shoulders of the garment hanging at his elbows. You hear the strain in his voice, see the fervor flash through his eyes. "What do you mean all over you?"
"He put his arm around me. He kept putting his face close to my ear to ask me questions… but-but I washed my hair when I got home. I washed my jacket twice but I wasn't sure if it would still get to you, so l left it outside. I'm sorry."
His expression faded as he relaxed a little. Still he kept his concentration solely on you as he pulled his hands from his sleeves and hung the coat up. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. Did he do anything else, anything more? Are you okay?"
You sighed tiredly, glad Yeonjun was home and you could have dinner and relax together and put the day behind you. “No, I’m fine.”
Stepping forward, he pulled you into his arms and pressed his cheek to the top of your head. “That’s all that matters.”
Beomgyu
Beomgyu stepped out of the cool night air and into the small store you worked in. He always picks you up when you work the night shift, preferring to drive you home than you taking the bus so late.
You haven't yet noticed his presence, despite the place being empty, busy tidying the shop for closing. As he slinks over to you, you reach up on your tip toes to put something away on a high shelf, and he means to put his arms around you to surprise, but something made him stop short behind you.
"Not again," he says, making you jump out of your skin.
"Gyu!" you yelp. "Don't do that!"
He pouts. "You smell like not you."
Pulling the fabric of your shirt to your nose and inhaling, you shake your head. "I don't smell anything."
You move off to the front desk, Beomgyu trailing behind, still complaining. "Of course you don't smell it, you pure-bred human—" and when you send him a look, he adds, "—affectionately. You just have to take my word for it."
He watches as you clock out and untie the apron from your waist, looking up at him tiredly. "Let's just go home, okay?"
He nods, and after turning off the lights and locking the doors, you make the short walk to his car. It's still warm inside, and it's such a relief to sit down after hours on your feet. You let your head rest back against the seat and look up at your boyfriend as he puts the key in the ignition.
"Thank you," you say tiredly.
As he looks over at you, he grabs something from the mirror and holds it out to you. Taking it from him, you look down to inspect what you've been given—his car air freshener. "You're welcome."
Taehyun
Taehyun couldn't hide his smile as he opened the door, until he got a whiff of something he didn't like. "Hey," he said, trying to act casual despite his senses waving tiny red flags at him. Yet, before he could stop himself, he was asking, "Where have you been?"
He watched as you took off your shoes, a hard task with your hands occupied with the pile of books and stationary you'd brought for studying, and usually Taehyun would be a gentleman and take them for you, but right now his mind was distracted.
"I stopped at my boyfriend's place. I'm sorry, am I late?"
Your boyfriend. He hadn't known you had a boyfriend... had he? He tried to rack brain, think of who you hung out with at school as he lead you into the house. "Oh... no, uhm..."
You walked across him to put your stuff down at the table and he got a stronger smell of the scent that hovered around you. Your boyfriend was definitely not completely human. He wondered if you knew. He wondered if he could compose himself enough to study with this smell hanging around.
"Let's get started," you were saying as you took a seat.
Taehyun tried to ignore his thoughts as he sat with you, listening to you talk about the assignment and dividing tasks. He did his best to focus on the words you were saying, your voice, your eyes, anything he could hold onto. But his instincts were strong. He stood up suddenly, your eyes following him, mouth forming a question. "Would you like anything? To eat or drink?"
Your expression cleared of confusion. "Sure, water would be nice."
Thankful to busy himself and get a break, he walked over to the kitchen and filled one glass, then another, breathing deeply all the while to try to calm his system. As he returned to the table, you were coming back from the front hall, suddenly without your jacket on. You reached out and took one of the glasses from him and sat down once more. He noticed that most of the scent was gone; he could bear being so close to you now.
"I really like that jacket you were wearing," he commented nonchalantly between discussions of school work.
You looked up from your notes with a smile. "Oh yeah? Me too. It's my boyfriend's, I'm always stealing it when I can."
He nodded, trying to keep the small smile from fading. It's okay, I'm okay, his mind was trying to console him. It probably wouldn't work out between the two of you anyway... right?
Huening Kai
He found you on the couch, laying on your side, tucked into a ball. “Hi hun,” he spoke softly, knowing this habit of yours meant something was up. He wasn’t going to bring up the scent he had picked up before he’d even opened the front door just yet.
You peeked up at him and he could tell you were exhausted. “Hi." His smile and his eyes were so warm that you immediately blurted out what was wrong without him needing to ask. "I went to a party.”
“Oh?" Your voice was so small and meak it tugged at Kai’s heart. "A party?”
“I didn’t want to go but my friends… they dragged me there, and I… I’m pretty sure everyone there was…” You pressed your lips together.
“Stinky,” he finished for you with a playful scrunch of his nose.
Nodding, you uncurled yourself to make room for your boyfriend on the couch. He sat and reached for your hand, holding it inside his big, warm one. His hands were always warm. He was always warm. It was one of your favourite things.
“It was kinda scary,” you admitted. At this, he tugged your hand towards him, a sign for you to come closer, and soon you were tucked into his lap.
"I know," he said softly, rubbing his hands up and down your arms soothingly. "I know it's still all new to you."
Humming in agreement, you allowed your head to fall into the crook of his neck. This was the place you felt safest in the whole world, even before you knew that the world was not as you had always thought.
Kai's voice rumbled through his chest, vibrating through you as he spoke. "Maybe a bath might help you relax."
You looked up at him, and he brought his face down to rub his nose against yours, his trademark show of affection with you. "Do I really smell that bad?"
The boy couldn't hide his smirk. "Just a little."
written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form
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rainylana · 22 days
Text
Preachers daughter
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: eddie is becoming obsessed with “plain jane”.
warnings: based around the character/artist of ethel cain. language, reader is described as thin, brown hair/eyes and very plain and boring. eddie describes her as “ditzy” and “weird”. hints of physical abuse/bruising. talk of religion and christianity, church. reader is starved of attention. some angsty shadows around the edges, some fluff here and there. Slight smut, reader tries to give Eddie a blowjob, hints of sexual abuse.
a/n: my first fic in months!! leave me some love and let me know what you think!! also, if this gets enough love and positive feedback i might make another part!
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You never spoke unless spoken to, had a plus marks in grades. You never smiled. You had few friends, a couple girls you sat with a lunch, but no one you hung out with outside of school. Eddie had started watching you when senior year came along. He didn’t know why. You hadn’t changed that much. You looked the same, acted the same. You were the same boring, plain Jane. That was what everyone called you. Plain Jane. You tried to not let it hurt your feelings.
Eddie hadn’t interacted with you much. Nodding a hi in class, waving at you on the bus once or twice. Offering an apology if he’d ran into you in the hall. But never really a conversation. He’d spoken a full sentence to you once in the nurses office. His nose had been bleeding from a punch, while you had been in there from a stomach ache. You both had sat in that little room with ice packs and a mint.
He was starting to become obsessed with you, the gang pestered him about it, laughing at him. He always talked about how mysterious you were, wondering why you never spoke. “It’s like she’s amish or something? Did she used to be amish?” He’d asked one day.
He wanted to know more about you, but how? He couldn’t exactly strike up a conversation with you. You barely reciprocated back the words. When the day came when you both finally had an actual interaction, it fueled the fire in his belly, his growing desire to get to know you, to understand why he liked you so much. Right now, he still didn’t know.
On the way back from Hellfire, it was starting to cloud up very darkly. A storm was brewing, and from the looks of it, a bad one. Eddie’s radio was cranked to the max, a new single out by a band he had yet to know the name. He wondered if other people would discover his songs like that one day, by a band they had no idea who’s name belonged to it.
That’s when he saw you, on the side of the road. He knew it was you from the long, brown dress that fell down to your calves, black flats and hair laid straight down your back. Plain Jane. “The hell?” He muttered under his breath, pulling up slowly and rolling down his window.
You stopped abruptly, startled by the oncoming vehicle, looking up to the window, the driver, with wild brown eyes.
“Need a ride, y/n?” His hand laid on the crank of the window. “Looks like we got a hell of a storm coming.”
You looked up to the sky, the wind blowing hair into your mouth. “I’m not supposed to ride with strangers.”
“We’re not strangers.” He chuckled. “You’ve known me since second grade.”
You gave him a look, a long one, holding your gold cross necklace before you eventually nodded, opening up his van door and climbing inside. He offered a hand to you, but you managed inside fine without it.
You lived about five miles north of his place on the outskirts of town, the baptist church, your fathers church, also being a mile from town. Your father was the only preacher in town to have children. The relationship with your parents was complicated. You idolized your mother, loved your father and brother. At the end of the day, that’s what was important and nothing else.
Three minutes into driving. Eddie couldn’t take the silence anymore. “So strangers, huh?” He forced a laugh to break the silence. “You consider me a stranger?”
You looked over at him, confused and in a daze. “No. But you don’t go to church.”
“So?”
“Daddy doesn’t want me to associate with people who don’t believe in God.”
“Who says I don’t believe in God?” He defended, hand on the wheel and other lighting a cigarette. “Just because I don’t go to church doesn’t mean I don’t believe in God, Y/n.”
“Do you?” You said curiously, eyes on the cigarette.
Eddie shrugged his shoulders, blowing smoke out the window. “I don’t not believe in God. I have bad luck as is. I don’t need God pissed at me for not believing in em’, ya know?”
His words didn’t make much sense to you, but regardless, you nodded and kept quiet. It wasn’t in your best interest to pry uncomfortable conversations. However, being the daughter of a preacher meant that students, your peers, liked to confess to you when they had problems. One day, Chrissy Cunningham had needed to get something off her chest, worried she was going to go to hell for smoking weed under the bleachers. You didn’t feel like Eddie needed this kind of treatment; counseling.
Eddie held out the cigarette for you to take, to which you politely accepted. It didn’t surprise him. He knew you smoked. He caught you one day underneath the large oak tree by lovers lake. He’d shocked him almost to his knees. He figured it was your only source of rebellion. He didn’t tease you for it.
You inhaled and exhaled, feeling ten times more relaxed as you breathed in the smoke. You handed it back to him. “Thank you.” You said softly. “It’s nice of you to take me home.”
He waved his hand nonchalantly. “I’m not gonna let the reverend’s daughter walk home in a storm. I probably wouldn’t get into heaven, would I?” He smirked over at you.
You couldn’t help but smile, tucking a hair behind your hair. The corner of his eye caught your hands, purple bruising around your knuckles. He stared at them for a moment, eyes bouncing between you, your hands and the road. They were angry and red, dark around the bone. It looked painful. He gave you one last look, a confused, strange one, before turning his eyes back to the road. How did you hurt your hands so badly? It looked like you’d been beating a punching bag all night long. He forced it out of his mind to stop thinking about it. It wasn’t his business.
“So,” Eddie cleared his throat. “You got big plans this weekend?”
“I’m going to read.” You answered plainly.
“Fun.”
He was kicking himself for being so awkward. He’d been thinking of you for months now, wanting to get you alone so he could understand why you had gotten under his skin. It’s not like you were drop dead gorgeous. You weren’t ugly by any means. You were pretty. But pretty like other girls he went to school with? It’s not like you shared similar interests. Hell, he wouldn’t know. You’d never share your interests with anyone anyways. Your hobbies consisted of reading the bible and sewing on the front porch.
Thunder began rolling in, rain hitting the window shield. Eddie turned on his wipers, quickly rolling up the drivers side window to avoid getting wet. You were looking out your window to the sky, bringing up a nail to bite.
“Scared of storms.” He noticed your habit of anxiety.
“No.” You shook your head. “I love them. I’m hoping for a tornado.”
He gave you a weird look, nodding. “Okay.”
You hoped the storm would destroy your home and everyone in it.
You swallowed back bile and pushed the sinful thoughts from your young mind, taking away your finger and down to your lap. Lightening struck.
“Shit.” Eddie cursed. “Maybe we should pull over. Shouldn’t drive in this.”
You stayed quiet, fingers mentally crossed the storm would worsen. You loved storms, the danger of it all. It could end your life and that excited you. It was up to mother nature whether you lived or died.
“There’s a boat dock with a shack up ahead. Reefer Rick’s place. He’s outta town.” Eddie spoke louder over the pelting rain, which was turning to hail. You both ran to the shack, your feet splashing in muddy puddles that dirtied up your pale legs.
You both panted when you got inside safely. You were cold, wrapping your arms around your freezing body. It was dark and musty, covered in cobwebs and mold, empty paint cans and boxes ruined from the leaky roof. You were warmer running out in the rain.
“Here.” Eddie held out his hellfire jacket to you.
You shook your head. “No, thank you.”
“You’re gonna get yourself a cold.” He kept his arm out stretched. “Come on, you’ve got less layers on than I do.”
“No, thank you.” You repeated. “I don’t like the…well, the logo of your club on the back.” Your cheeks blushed red in embarrassment, hoping not to hurt his feelings after saving you from the icy storm.
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Suit yourself.”
Eddie fixed himself comfortably against the wall, huddled up in a little corner, breathing into his hands to warm himself up. You shivered in your spot, arms crossed and feet shuffling to stay warm yourself. “How long do you think the storm will last?”
“Thought you liked storms?” He didn’t look up at you, yet he still smirked slightly.
You swallowed and turned away to look around some more, hoping the movement would keep you from going into hypothermic shock.
An hour later and Eddie had managed to build a fire in a metal trash can that was cut in half. Rick had kept some wood and news papers in the closet, so Eddie used that until he had a descent fire roaring to give off satisfying warmth. The storm really wasn’t letting up. Eddie, was beginning to grow agitated. He’d been waiting months to spend time with you, understand you, and you would barely speak to him.
“How’d you do on the english test?”
It was hypocritical of him to talk about, or show interest in grades when he was riding the fine line of a D and F, but he was tired of the silence.
You sat a few feet away from him, curled up in yourself, his jacket thrown over your shoulders. He insisted you wear it when he heard your teeth start to chatter. Your dress was slightly damp, but growing more dry by the second, your hair ratted.
“I did okay.” You said meekly.
Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “You sure don’t say much, do you?”
You looked up to find him staring at you inquisitively. “I don’t have anything to say.”
“I think you have plenty to say, actually.” He corrected you, pointing a mud clad finger. “I think you’re just afraid of what people will think.”
“I know what people think of me.” You clasped your cross necklace. “They call me “plain Jane”.” I’m sure you’ve heard it before.”
He had in fact, yes. Even called you the term before, several times.
“It doesn’t matter to me, though.” You shook your head. “Only one person really judges us in the end.”
Eddie looked uneasy at the thought of being judged by…God. He looked you over, swallowing as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ hell.”
His language startled you. “What is it?”
He laughed, shaking a hand. “It’s just…I don’t know. I thought maybe it was fate that I got to pick you up today, so you know…we could get to know each other better.”
You gave him a strange look. “But you already know who I am.”
“I mean,” He stressed in annoyance. “I don’t know, take you out on a date or something? Damn.” He cursed, shaking his head like this was the absolute worst thing he’d ever done.
Your eyes widened and your lips parted. “Me?”
He nodded, leaning back and crossing his arms. He looked like he was a five year old pouting. “I get it if you’re not interested. Just tell me rather than sit there with your mouth hangin’ open.”
You closed it automatically, swallowing nervously. You were completely astonished. You never knew that Eddie had those kinds of feelings for you. Eddie was just…Eddie. He was always there causing mischief and trouble, picking fights here and there. But now that you sat and thought about it, there were many of times you recalled catching his eye in the hallway or the cafeteria. He was handsome. You liked his hair, though you knew your father wouldn’t approve of how long it was.
Your father wouldn’t like this, but he didn’t like you either. There wouldn’t be any chance of being able to go out with Eddie, not being able to risk him seeing the both of you together.
“Maybe,” You started, taking his jacket off your shoulders. “Maybe we could have our date here.”
“Here?” He craned a brow. “In this shack? Would be the cheapest date I’ve ever been on.” He chuckled, scratching above his eyebrow. “So you’re interested then? You’ll go out with me?”
Your smile turned into a frown, your guilt and fear sinking in. Eddie was a man, and just like any man, only wanted one thing. Surely a date was not a date. It was a date. You supposed you didn’t mind, after thinking about it for a moment. You didn’t mind the idea of sleeping with him. It excited you actually, but not anymore than the idea of being taken out, treated like a real lady.
“Alright.” You nodded.
He smiled, clapping his hands together. “Good.”
Five minutes past. No one had said anything. You assumed he wanted you to make the move. You startled him when you crawled over to him. “What are-” Was all he’d gotten out before you were climbing into his lap to roughly kiss him. It was all so sudden, and his body was having a hard time registering what happened. He couldn’t keep up with you.
When he did, he cupped the back of your head and slipped his tongue into your mouth, your own saliva dripping down his chin. Your hand slipped from his chest to his belt, but before you could undue it, Eddie’s eyes opened and narrowed. “Whoa, now,” He chuckled, pushing you back gently. “Slow down.”
“You don’t like it?” You looked hurt. “I thought-”
“Well, yeah,” He chuckled. “I liked what you were doing, but all in good time sweetheart.”
It was so fast and so sudden, everything that had happened. Your heart was still racing from making out, your body still wracking with building pleasure. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize.” He scooted up against the wall. “It’s okay. I just want to take you out on an actual date. I didn’t mean I just wanted to fuck you in this old shack.” He snorted, teeth shining in the dark. He looked so amused, so interested in you.
“O-oh.” You stammered. “I didn’t know.”
“Is that okay?” He asked you.
“Oh, yes, yes,” You rushed, glowing red. You didn’t know how dates worked. You didn’t go on them. You weren’t allowed to leave the house very much anyways. You weren’t sure what excuse you’d be able to come up with to get away, but surely you’d come up with something. You were sneaky, after all. Had to be.
Eddie could tell by your body language that you’d never been asked out before. As dirty as it was, that excited him. When the rain stopped, he helped you up, put out the fire and drove you him. He never stopped thinking about your hand on his chest, and neither did you.
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cameronspecial · 6 months
Note
Loving the Zach stuff so far!!!
Could you maybe do something where yn hates his guts, but he is like in love with her and all her sass?? Then they're forced to go on some school trip together or something, and she realizes she likes him and a cute angry love confession, perhaps???
Danke 🫶🏼💐
Thank You, History Class
Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.2K
Masterlist
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Y/N and Zach have been running in the same friend group since Freshman year, but it doesn’t mean they necessarily get along. Well, it doesn’t mean that she likes him. His sarcasm and puppy dog vibe annoys her cool and distant personality. He’s always asking her how her day is going and trying to make her laugh with his stupid jokes. Zach, on the other hand, fell for her grumpy soul the moment he set eyes on her. Unlike most people, who don’t bother looking deeper into her personality, Zach could see the soft side that she held within and never let anyone see. He would always catch how she would stand up from her bus seat when she saw an elderly person. She wouldn’t let people around her know it was the reason, but she always did. He saw the little bowl of milk she left outside her house for a cat mother and her kittens. Finally, he saw how sweet she was to children whenever they were around her. 
Zach didn’t want to take a history class and he certainly didn’t feel like going on a field trip to a museum. It all felt very high school to him. The only upside about it: Y/N is also taking the same class. When he saw that he needed a history credit to graduate, he definitely didn’t go looking for what classes she was taking this semester to try and be in the same one. The cost was giving Jason access to his bathroom whenever he wanted, but it was worth it. He knows the field trip isn’t mandatory for any marks, yet he knows Y/N is going to be there. As he heads toward the Victorian house, he finds Y/N out front waiting for the professor to show up. Her clothing consists of black and brown colours as usual. Her hair was held back by a shiny black claw clip. 
“Fancy seeing you here,” he grins, coming to stand beside her. She gives him a side eye, “Could you be more cliche? Try something more original, would ya? I still can’t believe you are taking this class.” He doesn’t let her sour mood dampen his energy. “Come on, you know you like having me with you in this class. The only other people in this class are girls who have a romanticized view of the era, or guys, who have a history stick so far up their ass that they think a history degree will take them far in life,” he notes, turning to look at her. She looks him dead in the eyes, “I’m a history major. And I am neither of those things.” “I know, that’s because you are so much better than them. You are far too smart for them,” he flatters. She shakes her head, turning her attention to the professor who has just arrived, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” The professor leads them into the museum and begins his lecture. After ten minutes of listening to the man speak, both Y/N and Zach realized that coming was a big waste of time. He doesn’t know what he is talking about and Zach can hear Y/N constantly correcting the older man under her breath. 
He leans toward her, making sure his lips are close to her ear. “Wanna go on our own little tour? This man is getting half of this stuff wrong.” She thinks she has lost her mind because this must be the first thing Zach has said that she thought was a good idea. “That actually sounds kind of fun. They have a Victorian fashion exhibit I want to see, but I don’t think Professor Robo over there is going to take us to,” she whispers back. Her hand finds his and she hates to admit she likes the warmth of his in hers. They round the stairs to the exhibit. She looks delighted when she spots the first mannequin with clothes. Her feet find their way beside a girl about six years old, already looking at the dress. The child’s eyes find Y/N’s face and they smile at each other. “You know, this is an 1843 Evening dress. The bodice, the thing around the chest, is low off the shoulders. And they have lots of other skirts underneath to make it poofy,” Y/N softly explains to the little girl. 
They spent around thirty minutes in the small room. Y/N walks around with Willow and Zach, explaining each outfit to them. She is surprised that Zach seemed honestly engaged with what she was saying and would ask thoughtful questions. Eventually, Willow’s mother, an employee, came looking for her and took the girl to lunch. “Do you want to head to lunch?” she asks. He shakes his head, “Actually, I was hoping we could look at the Victorian sports exhibit. I brought some snacks, so if you are hungry, we can share.” He pulls out a bag of cucumbers shaped like hearts. She has to giggle at the sight because big jock Zach MacLaren likes to have his vegetable cut into shapes. 
“What?” he questions in fake offence, holding out the Ziploc to her. She shakes her head with a chuckle, “Nothing, just surprised your cucumbers look like an inaccurate depiction of a human organ.” “They make them taste better. Try,” he says with a shrug. He hands her a slice and listens to the sweet crunch of her biting into the vegetable. “Okay… I must admit it is more fun to eat it like a heart. I can pretend I’m a witch eating people’s hearts,” she agrees. He doesn’t look disturbed by her macabre comments, instead, he pretends to be ripping out his heart as he hands her another slice. She enjoys him playing with her deadly thoughts.
They spent about an hour looking at the different displays, eating his snacks and taking turns reading the display’s blurbs to each other. As they stand on the steps of the museum, Y/N towers over him from the step above. He looks up at her like she hangs the stars in the sky. “I hate to admit that you made this day pretty fun,” she confides. Her hands find their way behind her back, biting her lip as she looks into his eyes. His mouth turns into a crescent moon, “I’m really glad I did. I like spending time with you.” She takes a moment to think and moves her head away in frustration. Not at him, but at the turmoil inside her mind. Why is his charming smile suddenly getting to her? Why does she want to step into his warmth and let his arms bring her in? “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m falling for you, MacLaren. So… would you want to go to dinner? Like on a date,” she confesses with a hint of annoyance in her tone that is just normally there. She is disgusted by the excitement that crosses his face. He gets off the steps, running around the green grass in front of the building. He jumps every so often with a little whoop let out as he does so. 
He rushes back to her, grabbing her around her waist and spinning her around. She finds the sound of her giggles odd but enjoys it nonetheless. “Way to keep a poker face,” she sasses, looking down at him. He doesn’t care though all he wants is a chance to be with her.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia
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boyfhee · 7 months
Text
MARRIED UNDER TWENTY-FIVE / sjy
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SYNOPSIS : a look into yours and jake’s life as you meet, fall in love, get married, and lose each other— all under twenty-five. ( 5.3k )
or, eight months after your death, jake finds the courage to open your letter.
GENRE : heavy angst, bittersweet
WARNINGS : death, grief and grieving, heavy drinking, smoking, implications of substance abuse, one mention of intrusive thoughts, my attempt at cinematic parallels but in writing so i hope it's not confusing, switches between past and present. byf : written in italics are the contents of the letter
NOTE : was in the zone while writing this like the way i teared up?? boyfhee angst returns happy reading, everyone. ALSO big thanks to @flwrshee ri my bae for beta-reading this and reminding me to work on this from time to time lmfao. ib : richard feynman's letter to his dead wife (need someone who loves me the way he loves her)
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buried in jake’s drawer is the letter he found four months ago. actually, it has been sitting there for over a year, under the pile of other papers and envelopes, tucked in the lowest drawer of the shelf, one that is rarely ever opened. you had put it there for him to find it— hoped that he would find it because you couldn’t bring yourself to give it to him yourself. jake had stumbled across it four months after you left him forever. four months after walking and stumbling, after four months of staring blankly at his ceiling, the letter is the closest he can get to you. 
he keeps it with him, in his bag, sometimes tucked in his coat during winters, as a bookmark for the books he reads that take him to back you, even if you only exist as a figment of his imagination. he keeps it on the bed-side table before he goes to sleep, it’s there in front of him on evenings he drinks for hours on empty. the letter stays unopened— he couldn’t bring himself to open it. his fingers brush against the pale paper and it feels like a sword to his heart. opening that letter feels like tearing you apart, and four months is what it takes jake to sit by the kitchen counter with the letter once again; with pain in his eyes and a scissors by the side. 
eight months after you’re gone, jake finds the strength to read it. 
‘i think the first time i fell for you wasn’t at the bookstore,’
your handwriting feels like a warm hug after a long day. his fingers tighten around the loose sheet of paper, a faint crease forming along the edges. a single tear rolls down his cheeks.
‘it was that day at the bus stop. it was raining, i was running towards the bus stop, covering my head with my bag. fortunately enough, the bus arrived a minute after, and you happily lent me your jacket before getting off at your stop,’ 
and jake remembers it clearly. grey skies and merciless rain, he was already late for his evening classes and the weather didn’t seem to help. he already missed a bus before making it to the bus stop near his apartment and managing to catch another, his umbrella decided to malfunction in the worst way on seemingly the worst day. his perfectly styled hair was ruined thanks to running in rain, across and under the sheds he could find. jake was so sure, it was the worst day in the nineteen years of his life, until the bus arrived at the stop, and his eyes handed on you as you stood at the bus stand, annoyed at the weather. 
jake could hear one of his friends calling his name from a distance as soon as he gets down from the bus, but all he did was look at you and offer you his jacket— the most far-from-normal and astonishing thing he had ever done— before you aboard the bus, shooting him a soft smile from the windows as it drove away.
‘i still don’t know why you did that,’ 
reading further, jake realises that he doesn’t know why he did that either. the two of you weren’t even heading in the same direction. he was rushing to the university campus while you wanted to catch the bus to your way home. the chances that he would get his jacket back were low, almost zero. there are days when he sits by the window and thinks about all the stuff you did together, about everything he did that led him to you. the jacket, perhaps it was supposed to end up with you, maybe it was the only way nineteen year old jake could’ve talked to you and get one step closer to your world after admiring you from the sidelines for months. 
‘the bookstore, i think it’s a place where i realised that i’m in love with you. a place where i made all my decisions about you, where i shared my firsts and lasts with you— as promised. if you’re wondering why i’m writing a letter in this date and era,’ 
his eyes are a little blurry, there’s a picture of you in the said book store in his mind. it’s like a nineties short film— a grainy image, slightly blurred, the voices are muffled, but jake feels every emotion down to the very core of his heart. 
on some days, he ends up in front of the same bookstore. there are evenings he sets out on a journey with no destination, wherever the roads take him. his eyes are up towards the sky, usually towards the venus shining like a gemstone, he likes to think it’s you, that you ended up being the favourite star in the sky. on evenings like those, jake sits outside the very bookstore his and your story originates from and lets his mind play the picture, tracing over the image of you in his mind. sometimes, he goes inside and sits at the same place you both used to sit, he’d pick the same books you used to read, occasionally coming across tiny doodles you left on some pages even though it violated the rules.  
‘it’s because i’m afraid i haven’t loved you enough,’ 
the words hit him like a train travelling at hundreds of kilometres per hour. jake pauses, putting aside his glass of alcohol, letting the words and tears you spilled on the paper diffuse through the tips of his fingers, wanting them to flow like they’re the blood in his veins. he reads it all over again, a single tear rolls down his cheek, a lifeless sigh escapes his mouth.  
‘because you were there on nights i stayed in the library to study for exams. you were there, at my door, whenever i needed you to drive me to classes. you were there outside my class, waiting for me, during lunch when i needed someone to hear my complaints, at the bus stop on days it got late because you didn’t like the idea of me going home all alone at night,’
because you were there on noons that jake had trouble remembering reactions of carboxylic acids and amines. you were there to bring him snacks or lunch whenever he got a little too immersed in concepts of quantum mechanics to even remember about his meals. you were there when he called you to complain about his professor, who kept adding his name to every single project, all because jake was an excellent student. when you stayed with him throughout the evening and beyond at the campus, accompanying you to your apartment late at night was the least he could do to thank you. 
‘you were there on the night it was raining and the power went out. i still remember how you looked— drenched and worried with your phone’s flashlight turned on, standing at my doorstep. you said that the crime rates were high and that it’s better for me to stay at your place that night. you were there for me day, noon and night, and all i’m doing in the end is saying goodbye.’ 
it was his first instinct— maybe even beyond first, if it exists, because the power went out in your whole neighbourhood, and jake was already calling you while running down the streets, towards your apartment, with nothing but his flashlight to guide him through the complete blackout that night. when you asked him why he was at your place, he spent ten minutes looking for an appropriate reason. perhaps, it was because he wanted to see you, or because he was worried to death, maybe acts of service are how you both look after each other— doing favours and being the helping hand. jake didn’t know, he still doesn’t know, as he sits by his kitchen counter, letting the small sips of alcohol intoxicate his systems gradually, killing him slowly, in a way that hurts so right. asking you to spend the night at his place was the toughest and the bravest decision jake had made in his entire life. 
‘agreeing to do that summer festival dance with you is still the best decision i’ve ever made, my proudest moment, and letting you step into my life was the second best. nothing compares to when you joined the music club and changed my life forever.’ 
the summer festival dance— jake remembers it, the memory is as clear as a crystal in his head, ingrained in his mind, every single second playing at the back of his mind even when he’s half wasted, as if he’s reliving the moment. no one had enough time to dedicate themselves to a mere summer festival dance, but jake saw you looking at the flyers on the notice board just three minutes after he had told jay that dancing was not his thing, and he knew he needed to get that dance with you. 
getting partnered up with you was a pure coincidence, but everything that led to it wasn’t. the deliberate bumping in the hallways and the extra cups of coffee that jake bought every morning for a friend that never seemed to attend classes, everything led to him and you standing in the practice room in front of him, helping him come up with dance steps for audition, which finally led to his selection on the team. 
jake attempts to gulp down all the contents of his glass before realising that it’s empty. another sigh falls off his lips as he reaches out for the bottle kept across the counter, pouring him yet another glass for the evening, another day spent drinking while drowning in the thoughts of you, another line of intoxication, another stray tear rolling down his face, another memory creeps inside his brain— this first dance rehearsal. 
he could’ve sworn, his heart stopped beating for good ten seconds when the instructor told him that he needed to lift you up for a dynamic step during the intro. it was simple— you in front of him, his hands on your waist, he would lift you up— but the hands on the waist, his hands on your waist, jake felt like he was about to pass out. the second time his heart skipped a beat was when you grabbed his hands and put it on your waist because he was hesitating beyond belief, and that was the beginning of everything. 
and the hand stayed there for as long as jake could remember. his hand resided on your waist whether you both were crossing the road, or sitting on a park bench while you showed him pictures of layla you look the evening before, or while taking mirror selfies, or in all those moments that he spent slow dancing across the living room with you. it was as if your waist had been the home his hands were searching for and now that you’re gone, they feel empty. in the silence suffocating him, sitting on a chair with his head hung low, the floor looks so pretty. there's a faint reflection of him on the tiles, then his eyes land on his hands.
maybe it's the timing that has been making him feel this way. perhaps, it's the location, the empty rooms with threatening silence and the empty streets, the empty hallway, the empty hours, the lack of something and abundance of everything— it's making him go insane. it’s the empty pockets of the seconds that pass by, an undisturbed wave of silence that is disturbed everytime he sighs or gets his glass on the granite kitchen countertop, pouring himself another glass of cancer.
he sniffs, it could be from cold or tears. jake can’t point to the reasons anymore. his gaze settles on your letter that lies on his lap, a few of his tears soak through the paper. he puts his glass aside once to pick up the letter and pads on your words with his fingertips, not wanting them to get smudged by his tears. occasionally, he tries to convince himself that this is a dream. that you're here, somewhere, perhaps at work or at the nursery, maybe out shopping with a friend or at your parent's house because you've been missing them lately. jake imagines himself waiting for you at the station or the bus stand or the airport, smiling like a fool because he hasn't seen you in days and finally he can have you close to him, his lips on yours, your hand in his,
but now, his hands feel emptier. 
there's a yearning for something he doesn’t know. his apartment feels emptier, the stillness amongst your stuff that lies around even after eight months of your death is paralysing. his arms stretch across the bed at night in hopes of feeling something, anything. he takes another sip from his glass, eyes focusing on your letter once again as he reads further. 
‘you can call me crazy but every second with you felt like living in a whole new world. i started noticing things i didn’t before— seriously, who even smiles while watching wind ruffle through clothes hung up for drying? it was as though i was living a monochromatic life, the same routine, same pattern; then it was you, and everything around me became so beautiful. suddenly, i stopped caring about assignments because i needed to talk to you all night. i didn’t care what i was getting into by skipping prof. hong’s lectures because we got to hang out together. i was knee deep in troubles but god, i was so happy because i had you standing in front of me, and i knew you’d pull me out. i know you’d be on the ninth cloud while reading this, probably even call me stupid but i don’t mind because it’s true; i am madly, stupidly, crazily, insanely in love with you,’ 
jake remembers the day he came to your apartment for the very first time. 
you two weren’t dating, but the line in between had started to blur, fading into something none of you could see but both of you enjoyed. amidst alcohol and the faint odour of cigarettes that encapsulates him, being all the reasons behind his stumbling steps and hazy mind, jake could still see you clearly in the back of his mind— the way you glowed under the mid-morning sun, the warm breeze sweeping away stray strands of your hair out of your face, and your arms raised up above your head to hang the clothes up for drying. he could make out your smile through the silence between you two. no words were shared, but the fluttering glances and quiet smiles said more than any words could ever convey.
and then jake realised— it wasn’t just you feeling this way. 
the presence of something intricately new in your daily routine, although too minute to point out with your fingers, lingered throughout his days and nights after meeting you. suddenly, the boring computer science lessons didn’t seem bad, for you would visit him after the classes. jake, who used to arrive in class exactly on time, started arriving minutes and hours early just to see you, maybe, even strike a conversation. you had mentioned to him your favourite thing about him— the way his hands hesitatingly slide inside his pockets whenever one of your friends mistook him as your boyfriend. it was the way he smiles, the subtle rosy tint on his cheeks, the shy gaze travelling everywhere but to your face because he was too embarrassed to look at you. being mistaken as each other’s lovers was a mistake none of you clarified, and it was only a matter of time before it came true.
when his eyes settled on your panting for hair in a secluded corner of the hallway after running out of professor hong’s classes while he was just about to notice you two was the moment jake fell in love with you.
and jake falls first, he falls hard. 
because there were two tickets to the movie in his pockets with words of asking you out on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be spoken, and he was too busy being enamoured by your laughter as you leaned against the wall, catching your breath. your laugh is the music to his ears, watching you is better than any movie ever directed, and the feeling of his lips on you just a minute later in the same corner of the hallway is still the best feeling he has ever felt in his entire life. you were like a painter and his life— a canvas; and it was only after you he started seeing colours.
jake could get any girl he wanted but it was only after you, he realised who he needed in his life. 
‘remember the day you proposed to me? i cried all night.’
and jake lets out a dry chuckle as he reads through those words, gripping his glass a little tighter, feeling the carved patterns through the tip of his fingers. his eyes travel to the ring adored on his finger. it’s one thing keeping him close to wherever you are, and his eyes occasionally travel to the pen lying stray across the counter after he wrote something he, himself, doesn’t member. his fingers brush over the words you’ve written, letters that insinuate of you as he weep with love— jake wants to write back to you but he couldn’t, for he doesn’t know your new address.
‘it felt like a fever dream, the thought of marrying you. we met at nineteen, we fell in love at twenty, we got married at twenty-two— all under twenty-five, it was scary. it was like a thrill ride, like a rollercoaster, i had my parents tell me to wait things out. there were people who told me things, words about how i should be sure of who i’m marrying, certain if that person is right for me. it was the world against you and me, and i hate to admit that i understood their stance, but they never knew you like i do. they knew the jake who i fell in love with deeply enough to marry within four years. in their story, it was you and me and our young and immature love, and that’s it.’ 
it’s ironic because jake didn’t sleep all night after you said yes to his proposal. getting married at twenty-two was an adventure, you being the general instigator all, and he would just follow. waiting things out wasn’t even an option when it came to you, he knew what he wanted. you cried even while buying your engagement rings, on the wedding dress trial, the day before the wedding, and jake was there, every single time, holding you close, smiling against your lips as his kisses soothed you down. his heart was overflowing with love, with happiness he couldn’t contain.
being engaged was an eccentric feeling overall.
you weren’t his girlfriend, nor his wife. fiancée would be a better term, but jake called it a phase of transition. the knot was yet to be tied, people tried convincing you two out of it left and right. uncertainty spun in the air instead of saccharine smiles that usually cloud the days during weddings. it was the world against him and you— him, you, and your young immature love, a pair of rings exchanged, a promise made, a promise to stay.
and jake chuckles again, half annoyed, perhaps at fate, perhaps at himself. you promised to stay. another sip of alcohol goes down his throat, it tastes bitter than it used to. your picture in his head gets clearer as his vision starts to lose focus, your laughter echoes through the cracks in his heart. it reflects through every corner of his body, it stays inside with a yearning that makes him ache for you. your memory is now a child that he tries to lose in a grocery store, but also a place he comes to at the end of the day because nothing quite feels like home anymore. 
‘do you remember that conversation we had about secret codes? one that went on about how even inanimate objects could have ways to communicate? that is how i feel about you. it’s untranslatable, i cannot put it in words for others to understand. it’s a language that only me and my heart know.’
it all started on your very first marriage anniversary— heavy rains, skies painted grey, thunders seemed to exhibit their own orchestral opening. inside, the place was warm, his arms. sitting on the couch as you two sipped on hot chocolate, wrapped in blanket and soft giggles and laughter that emerged everytime one of you tried and stole a kiss. jake constantly apologised for not being able to do much for you and you would so exquisitely whisper to him how nothing matters as long as you have him while tracing your lips all over his face. he doesn’t remember when the conversation went from talking about how your kids would look to discussing whether the paintings hung up on the walls on your living room speak as well. no conclusion was drawn and the whole conversation was discarded as just another silly discussion, although jake knew what to make out of it.
the way you laughed when he tickled your sides, or the giggle that danced off your lips when his lips brushed against the tips of your fingers, the rhythm your heart beat when he placed his head on your chest, holding you ever so close, the conversations you two had by just looking into each other’s eyes. jake still can’t put it in words, it’s beyond the understanding of the world. he can blather about you to the stars and beyond and they would still not know you, but jake knows that if you were to come to him with a face he had never seen and a voice ever so unfamiliar, he would still know you. you’re far too well intertwined in his soul, he feels pieces of himself disappearing every time a distant memory of you blurs in his mind.
and perhaps, the stars will go out before he forgets you.
‘i don’t know if i chose the right university to graduate from, if my major was worth the effort, if giving up on caffeine was actually good for my health. there are a lot of things i’m unsure of, but jake, my darling, you, you’re one thing i know i got right. you’re something i’d choose over and over again, over a thousand times over a thousand years in a thousand different worlds. people have their doubts but i don’t, because i know that if i’m ever given a chance, i’d choose to take your jacket again, i’d have that dance with you, i’d fall for you at nineteen and i’d marry you under twenty-five once again.’ 
there’s a sense of uncertainty that always plagued his mind, at all points of his life. even now, when he’s sitting by the counter drinking glasses after glasses, an ashtray just a few inches away with the smoke still emerging like lifeless souls looking for their graves. there’s a voice that is telling him to stop, it sounds like you, or maybe, it’s just the alcohol playing tricks again.
he’s not sure.
nineteen year old jake didn’t know if he wanted you. he had a lot on his plate— expectations from people he knew, a whole life in front of him and he was out in the wild, with no plans or whatsoever. you were like another wind blown past him one august afternoon, your smile just another thing his eyes passed by, yet the first thing to flood his mind at night. it’s the sheer lack of certitude— why did he give you his jacket? why did his mind think of only you when it came to the summer festival dance? why is it that only your eyes seemed like his entire world? jake has been walking with his steps laced with hesitation, a fear of what could go wrong. it didn’t matter when it came to you. nineteen year old jake didn’t know if he wanted you, albeit he knew he didn’t want anyone else to have you.
‘you’re probably wondering why i’m writing this instead of telling you when i had the time, or why i didn’t give this to you sooner. it’s because i want you to read this if you ever feel lost, and i wanted to take my time and choose the right words. i wished for a life where i wouldn’t have to live without you, and if i knew that would end up with heavens changing our fates, i would’ve done anything to save you from this pain.’ 
his eyes are the first to remember. the face that he once cradled in his hands, now just a figment of his memories, an illusion he sees through mirrors and turns around frantically, heart beating out of his chest, hoping you’re still here. sometimes, he sits at the bus stands and formulates your responses to everything happening around. he sighs, brushing his fingers over the wedding ring as he pictures you looking up at him with a smile, as if you’ve never been happier. the way he had felt and the way he feels— the bittersweet ache between having and wanting— your words drown him in that pain over and over again.
loving you, to jake, is like knowing you before he actually got to know you. as if you had always existed in his heart and your presence only completed the puzzle. and in that brief moment between— wrapped in your arms, he would think, how lucky i am— a pause as he snaps back to reality.
how lucky he was.
‘i know this is an impossible bargain, i cannot swap your pain for something else even though i wish i could. i cannot make you forget me so that you can live a better life. it’s a pity, a shame, i’m sorry,’ 
he furrows his brows at your words, the one about living a better life without you, it’s a lie, a hypothesis never to be true. you held him close at times he didn’t feel like himself, when his own skin disgusted him and his own thoughts told him to cut the string, you wiped his tears and accepted his pain like your own— jake sniffles above the silence in the room— how could he live, when the very person who taught him to live left him forever? 
‘so for you, jake, my love, i wish you a lifetime of happiness and health. i want you to read this and realise the impact you had in my life. if you ever feel like we got to spend a very little time together, one that went by in a blink, i want you to know that your presence is something i’d hold in my heart for a thousand lifetimes. i won’t tell you to move on quickly, it’s hard, i know. instead i want you to take your time. go easy on yourself. let me go, one by one, one finger at a time,’
he reads the same words over and over again— let me go. to let you go, oh, how he wishes he could do that, but that’s the consequence of falling in love. jake would go out in the mornings to find a purpose, his ring kept undisturbed on the bathroom counter, and he would return home in the evening, back to silence and sorrow, holding the ring in his hand, fist close to his heart, him on the bed, and the night fills with his sobs.
jake didn’t lose you all at once, but instead, he’s losing you slowly, bit by bit, over and over again. he loses you whenever he absentmindedly calls out your name from across the house, only to be met with cold silence. he walks down the street and loses you the moment he sees a couple walking past him, hands intertwined, realising his hands would forever remain empty. he loses you everytime he thinks of kissing you, holding you, wanting you; every time he sits on the couch and watch the skies pour outside, drinking hot chocolate all alone. he loses you when nights get cold and he has no one to hold, and in the morning when he wakes up to the emptiness across the sheets, he begins to lose you all over again.
it’s hard to let you go, one finger at a time, when everything prompts him to get on his knees in front of the universe and beg for one chance to pull you back in his arms, to hug you for one last time.
just once more.
‘there wasn’t a second spent with you when i wasn’t smiling. you made me the happiest person in this entire world and in return, i wish the same for you. so, go and live the life you’ve wanted to live. do everything you had planned and become the person you want to be. when your friends reach you out, go out with them and drink your heart out. you’re not alone because your love isn’t the first to leave. even worlds apart, i’m with you. i’ll be there next to your favourite umbrella hoping that you remember to take it on rainy days. on nights you can’t sleep, i’ll be there holding your hand and singing to you. one day, you’ll be fifty, and i’ll be there with you. when you turn ninety, i’ll be there and i will still love you the same as i did when we were twenty. and if you fall in love with someone and decide to take the vows again, i’ll be there with you, and i’ll be there hoping for the happily ever after that you deserve.’ 
and unknowingly, you went away making yet another promise to stay, another commitment you couldn’t keep. jake knows his love isn’t the first to leave, it stays there, waiting, weeping, wanting. it stays everywhere you’ve ever been, next to your favourite mug that is still on the shelf, next to his. his love is with your toothbrush in the bathroom, with the picture of you and him on your very first date that is adorned in the photo frame kept in the bedroom. it’s ingrained in all the post-it notes you wrote to him that he has kept safely in a box, in all the matching jewellery you had got for the two of you, in every corner of the house that cries, yearning for you. 
he could be fifty and his love would be still there, in the fading polaroids and letters torn from the corners. at ninety, his love would be still there, waiting for you, his heart aching because he wanted to get old with you by your side. his love will stay there, for a thousand lifetimes, over a thousand years. it turns out, jake is just good at sad things, waiting, holding on, remembering.
‘whatever comes forth, wherever life leads you, know that i am with you,’ 
as for your words— jake scoffs, burying his head in his hands, tears smudging between his palms and cheeks— loving someone else isn’t even an option. 
to him, you, dead, are better than anyone else alive. 
‘until we meet again.’ 
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deviantly-inspired · 9 months
Text
Dreamling concept
I absolutely love the 600 year slow burn to friendship and then wildfire romance that's in dreamling fics (it's IMMENSELY satisfying) but also, please consider:
after they finally (finally) become friends after 600 years they just... take their time, with romance. They spend years getting to know each other, genuinely, as friends. They don't know eachother, not really, until Dream has held Hob while he sobs over a loved one dying AND when he's seen Hob in his PJs eating ice cream out the pint because his students have stressed him out to the point of needing either ice cream or violence and Hob likes to think he chooses violence less often these days. And Hob doesn't really know Dream until he's heard that awful laugh, some unholy mix between braying donkey and the sound of magma shifting beneath the earth's crust OR until he's watched Dream scowl at the tele because they got to the last episode of "Game of Thrones" and Dream isn't any happier then anyone else is about a lot of those decisions.
And they spend days and weeks and years of being in one another's pockets. Choosing to come together again and again for a pint or a season binge or a silent supporting friend when the weight of living is a little harder. They earn each other's trust, and because they're both a little dense and maybe a lot more walking-wounded, the moment that each of them realizes that the other trusts them is, well, it's something that makes life worth living, for both of them.
Hob realizes Dream trusts him first, something small, something like Hob going to guide Dream out of the way and Dream just goes without any sort of hesitation. Not mountains or meteors could move Dream if he didn't want to, but he just goes to where Hob guides him out of the way so Hob can take the carrots out of the oven. It's enough to humble a man, and Hob might have a little cry over it later, in private, but for now he grins and tells Dream he has to try the carrots with the lamb, he hasn't lived until he's done so.
And Dream is a little slower to realize, I think. Because Hob is pretty open and friendly, it's a bit harder for Dream who's not so good with interacting with people face-to-face, to tell that Hob doesn't really get close to very many people for all that plenty seem to like him. There's a few exceptions, but even they are kept at a distinct distance. And it's maybe something small, like a small party or gathering of some of Hob's friends and it's late and folks are tipsy and Hob just kinda... dozes off against Dream. And Dream doesn't think anything of it, Hob does this quite often but Hob's other friends are immediately very surprised: Hob doesn't sleep in front of others, they explain. A relic from the war/traumatic past/whatever Hob's used to tell them. No matter how late or how tired or even how drunk he is, Hob would rather drive/bus/walk home then sleep where others can see him. You must be pretty special, one of them says. He even fell asleep on you like that: I've never seen him look so relaxed.
And I think that there's something beautiful about the slow, inescapable draw of it. It's like two meteors from opposite ends of the galaxy that have been on a collision course for eons. They both have moments of realizing that they're falling in love. They know it's going to happen, and the tension is slow and sweet and lovely. And there's no need to rush, because there's trust there too. Sometimes they'll meet gazes and they'll know, both of them, in that moment that they're in love. That, someday, what's growing between them is going to be a bloom unlike anything the universe has ever seen before. And they'll smile together and continue watching bad tv dramas or swapping gossip or sharing their pints and maybe their shoulders brush and their touches linger a bit longer that night but it's okay. There's no need to rush. They have forever after all.
And I think also that Dream is just a dramatic romantic enough of a bastard to confess to Hob on June 7, 2089 and i think Hob is just enough of a dramatic romantic to tell Dream that he certainly took his time.
I'm not late, am I, Dream will ask.
Of course not, Hob will laugh, you're exactly on time. We've plenty of it.
And in the Dreaming there will be a quiet warm breeze and gentle sunshowers as in the deepest heart of the dreaming a flower never before seen blooms awake. And in the waking two friends close the gap between them and talk about how Sally next door really needs to stop over watering her flowers she's going to drown the poor things, really.
And then they'll have the absolute longest courtship and engagement of anyone in the universe. There will be entire religions that will rise and fall before they get married. Pantheons will come into existence and be utterly dumbfounded when they're invited to Dream of the Endless and Hob Gadling weddings because weren't they already married? They've been together since the beginning of it all.
It's be great.
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guess who just got their period 😒 .... now i need peter all cuddled up next to me just rambling while he holds me and rubs my back or my stomach as i fall asleep in his arms 🥺-🎀
The Importance of Touch (and Peter)
--genre: fluff that's so sweet, your teeth will start to hurt
--pairing: tasm!peter parker x afab!reader
--word count: 0.4k
--warnings: reader is a person who has a period, fluff.
love this cutsie little request ohemgee
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--gif credits: @gatorstillman
More often than not, your period struck you like a damn bus. Obviously, you’re bleeding, but it’s not just that. Your cramps loved to attack your entire body, causing you to lay in bed all day. The thought of getting out of bed killed you, and when you did, you were hunched over doubling in agony. 
And when you’re in pain, Peter follows. He’s always by your side, mostly for moral support, but also for when you need another ibuprofen. You couldn’t have asked for someone better when it came to things like this. 
Peter is extremely patient, with all things, but especially you. And as he’s under you, rubbing your lower back, you reflect on how much you love him.
He’s been rambling about his spider duties as his rhythmic motions on your skin slowly put you in a blissful daze. The sun is shining through your windows, a warm glow pouring in like it always does during this time in the afternoon. 
As you’re lying on his chest, you can hear his steady heartbeat, the rise and fall of your head as he breathes in and out, and the deep hum of his voice as it reverberates through his body. You wish you could stay like this forever, but for now, you’ll have to keep this moment in your memory. With Peter, it was like he took all your pain away, allowing you to have a moment of peace within your hectic day. 
You’ve been responding to Peter as he recounts his night, painting you a descriptive picture in the process. Simple ‘mm-hmm’s were enough for Peter to keep talking until he noticed your silence more than anything. 
Craning his neck, he sees how your eyes dart back and forth under your eyelids as you sleep. He can’t help but bring his other hand up to your face, softly running his fingers over the skin on your cheeks. Bringing his head down, he places a deep kiss into your hairline, “Good night, bug. I love you.” 
Just because you were asleep doesn’t mean he stopped rubbing your back. Peter kept a steady pace until he fell asleep with you, both of your breaths in sync with one another's. 
--author's note: something short and sweet for the kids, alright? also helloooo, i've been in a weird burnout funk recently (womp womp). this is my little contribution to writing my baby girl peter parker LOL. ALSO 🎀 anon you're cooking with these asks, and also i'm on my period too...don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support your fav writers!!! my inbox/asks are open to send in requests babes. ok, ily bye<3333
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narcissistshandler · 7 months
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More of Jake Kim x top!male reader please! Like the reader help Jake to unwind after a long day (and also can you please add 69 position too, like somewhere in the story?) Thank you in advance!
𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗖*𝗖𝗞
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✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 male reader x jake kim/kim gimyung
✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 top!amab! reader, bottom!jake, 69, blowjob (jake giving reader), rimming and fingering (reader giving jake), anal sex, very light sub/dom dynamic alternating between sub/dom jake and sub/dom reader
✧ 𝖠/𝖭 This one is another that was in my drafts for weeks because I got lost in the narrative, sorry for the delay
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Not even if Jake wanted to he would be able to hide from you how tired he was, so even in front of your slightly worried look he just smiled as he let the bag slide from his shoulder to the floor, giving you that usual bright smile and fell into your open arms on the sofa in the living room. There were deep circles under his dark eyes, and even the daily phone calls weren't enough to make up for it when Jake spent the last few days away from home, training and looking to learn more about his dad.
"You need a shower," you said, arms tightening around his waist so you could hold him closer.
"Wow, thanks, I missed you too, [name]," he replied, feigning annoyance that broke within seconds as a chuckle escaped his lips. You weren't wrong though, Jake spent the last few hours on on a long journey in a stuffy bus because it was the last option if he wanted to get home today and Jake couldn't stand being one day longer away from you, from what was left of the Big Deal and from home.
"I missed you," you stated, lifting his chin with your index finger so you could take his lips in a kiss. "So much."
Jake melted against your chest, the weight in his shoulders seeming to melt away as your lips molded against each other. His mouth dropped open for you in a show of submission that didn't sit well with him. But Jake was damn tired and he couldn't think of anything better than to lay back and let you have your way with him.
You pulled back, breaking the kiss, your hands trailing down Jake's rigid back over the sweat-soaked t-shirt - from shoulder blades to coccyx.
"You're tense," you commented. "Dinner, shower and sleep?"
And as tempting as that offer was, Jake countered:
"Bath and you fuck me until I pass out?"
One of your hands came up to run through his hair and Jake could almost see the thoughts running through your head, but more than that, he could feel you slowly getting hard against his stomach and he almost instinctively moved to touch you, hand open falling over the tent that formed in your pants.
"You-" you started, but cut yourself off with a soft moan, eyes darkening. "Okay, whatever you want, yeobo."
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The freezing water under that Jake did his best to take a quick shower under and make sure his body was clean for you was unable to lessen the heat building in his body like flames slowly getting bigger. The odor of sweat was replaced by the smell of soap and water and when Jake pressed two fingers inside himself to make sure he was ready and clean for you, his dick reacted in an interested twitch even under the cold spray. That's when he decided he couldn't wait another minute.
You were sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, naked — as Jake had ordered you before entering the bathroom —, cock hard against the stomach with the head red and oozing, begging to be touched, you didn't however, never would dare touch yourself without Jake's express and clear permission and you hadn't received it in weeks.
It was hard to know which of you two was more looking forward to having the other after so long apart.
Jake dripped all the way from the bathroom to the bed, wet footprints and water droplets left behind on the floor and then onto the sheet as he climbed onto the bed. In erotic familiarity, placing each leg on either side of your hips and sitting on top of you, like a king on a throne. The feel of your bare skins touching sent an instant thrill through his veins.
Your hands landed on his hips, cocks mere inches apart. Jake melted under the attention, an almost basic need to be near you, under you or over you igniting all of his senses, more than he needed to breathe or eat or sleep or drink, he needed you and it was getting harder and harder keep thinking straight.
"How do you want this, jagiya?" The title of 'sir' or 'boss' or 'master' for when you felt more submerged and obedient than usual wasn't there today, although the lightness in your tone was the same as usual, a silent plea for 'please tell me what to do'.
"First," Jake began, gently rocking his hips. Your cocks rubbed together briefly, the sensitive tips bumping into each other and mixing the leaking pre-cum before Jake's hips drew back again. Your fingers tightened on his waist as you watched the lustful display. "Kiss me."
You did. You kissed him hard and longingly, wistful after all the days you spent apart, fingers sinking into his skin and pulling him against you as your tongue slipped into his mouth.
Jake's mouth opened easily for you, hand finding your hard cock that pressed against his. You were already wet for him, already oozing even though he barely touched you.
Jake's fingers barely closed around your cock and each pull drew familiar, erotic sounds from you that were lost in the kiss. He knew you made even more delicious sounds when his mouth was on you, when your cock worked its way down his throat at whatever pace Jake decided he wanted. His mouth watered at the faint memory of your smell and taste; hole tightening.
He pulled back, breaking the kiss and lowered his attention to watch the bulbous head of your cock disappearing between his thin, callused fingers, semi-transparent beads of pre-cum wetting them.
"I want you inside," he said, the honey-sweet words rolling off his tongue. "Get me ready for your cock."
You snarled like a wild animal and he felt your cock twitch in the grip of his hand. Jake can't help but laugh, proud of himself for having such an effect on you.
"Go get the lube and stop teasing me or I might come before I even get inside you."
"Dare and I'll put a chastity belt on you."
Jake gave you two last tugs, finding it difficult to stop touching you before getting off of you and crawling to the end of the bed where he could reach the lube on the nightstand among other toys stored there.
You fixed your pillow and moved to lay on the bed, patting your chest. "Come here."
He went with a wide, perverted smile on his thin lips, handing the lube into your hands before positioning himself as you wanted.
Your free hands soon returned to help him position himself, pulling him back until his ass was close to your face. Jake's legs sank bent into the mattress, wet cock dragging against your chest and your own cock ending up at a tempting distance from his face. Despite the excitement bubbling in his stomach, the new position brings a flush to his cheeks. Jake couldn't stop thinking about how he must look in your eyes, all open and exposed and within easy reach of you; tight balls visible between the legs and hole twitching where you could now see with your hands holding his ass cheeks apart. Embarrassment aside, he really liked it.
Your breath hit against the wrinkled muscles, a mere forewarning of what was to come before your tongue made the first contact. Jake melted with a loud groan, falling completely flat on top of you, all strength seeming to leave his body.
Your fingers dig into his skinny ass, spreading it further apart as your face sinks against him, your tongue, wet and soft and so good, rubbing against the tightly contracted muscles, licking and kissing and making his hole a mess of saliva and spit. Completely dirty.
His entire body shudders under the stimulation and your tongue is fucking him, pressing its way inside and the muscles in his legs immediately tense, rocking back powerless against the heat of your mouth as he struggles to get more of your tongue, needy. And it's not enough and at the same time it's so much, so much and he wants more, deeper, more-
Jake knew he was being loud, he knew he was being damn loud and damn needy as he rocked back against your mouth, one of his hands reaching behind to help keep himself open as he felt one of your fingers easily slide inside his relaxed hole, and then another one. He had missed it. Missed you, the sex with you.
With his other hand, Jake took your cock and brought it to his mouth, eyes falling closed as the familiar weight slid into his mouth and onto his tongue, the bitter taste of your pre-cum making him moan as soon as it hit his senses.
Your tongue pressed inside him, right between the two fingers you held scissors apart inside him and a muscle in his leg jumped. He could feel his hole opening and closing, tightening around the intrusion, the combined sensations of your fingers and tongue eliciting a insane pleasure from him.
Mind overheated, Jake didn't even notice that his mouth had stopped working. He just kept your cock in the heat of his mouth, making no move to suck or lick. Like your personal cock warmer, saliva pooling on his tongue and eyes drooping shut in an attempt to deal with the intensity of your touch, he gave in to the sensations. It was a strange thought that didn't scare him, if Jake could pick his paradise then this would be it: rationality turned off with sweetness by your hands and mouth, body being used by you.
Jake's cock dripped nonstop, occasionally twitching where it was pressed between your and his bodies. His feet sank into the sheets, legs trying constantly to close, body continuing trying to curl and tighten in involuntary reactions.
Your fingers slid along the sensitive walls, just a little deeper, seeming to play with him; in, out, rubbing and pressing, until your fingers curled inside him, hitting his prostate and a moan died in Jake's throat.
His entire body was so hot Jake didn't even notice his cock spilling out. The orgasm came easy and smooth, coursing through him in gentle shock waves that had his hole clenching around your fingers so hard it felt like it wanted to suck on them. Moans echoed around your cock in his mouth, spittle running down his parted lips and then chin.
You gently rocked your fingers in and out of him, helping him ride out the orgasm, wet tongue sloppily licking the rim that clung to your digits. Jake clamped his lips around your cock, sucking weakly as small shock waves ran down his spine. His dick twitched again, spilling every last drop onto your chest, his balls squeezing tightly.
Then your fingers were gone, leaving him devastatingly empty. A whimper rose all the way up his throat.
“Shhh,” you shushed him. "Hush now, love."
Your firm hands moved up to his hips, moving him off of you with an ease that never failed to make Jake's mind short circuit. He loved it when you moved him. He went easily, mouth now empty, letting you lay him down on the bed, chest against the sheets, muscles relaxed and malleable under your power.
"I'm going to fuck you now, yes?"
Jake groaned, gripping the sheet between his fingers, eagerly spreading his legs for you.
He couldn't force himself to form coherent words and he didn't even need to, all that existed was the fat head of your cock wet with Jake's saliva pressed against the open, relaxed rim.
Then you sank inside him, with one thrust. Jake felt his muscles being stretched with a burning sensation that sizzled through his spine, your cock pushing its way in until it sits completely deep inside, your hips resting against his ass. The preparation hadn't been enough to rid him of the pain, you both knew that the burn of stretching always left Jake trembling, yearning for more.
“So tight for me, Jake,” you murmur, lips against the heated skin of his shoulder. "So good, so sweet, such a pretty whore."
Jake sobs at the praise, eyes falling closed as he surrenders to the overwhelm of being filled, the sensation almost too much, leaving him trembling beneath you, sweet hole quivering and twitching, sweat running down the back of his neck.
And you just stay there, weight steady against his lean back, rolling your hips against him without rushing, feeling Jake's hole opening and relaxing gently against the pressure, like he was made for this, like he was made for your cock and nothing else.
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wileys-russo · 8 months
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toilet paper party II a.russo x reader
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some tooth rotting gf lessi fluff to try and cure all of our post game depression, with a dash of supportive best friend and arsenal icon lotte wubben-moy ofc
toilet paper party II a.russo x reader
"-she's going to blame herself again, it's like the world cup all over again." you sighed quietly to lotte who was sat beside you on the bench, both of you wincing as the ball was smacked away and saved as alessia kicked it, and unfortunately it of course had to be the deciding penalty.
"but she doesn't need to, she kept us in the game she-" lotte tried to justify but with a look from you she fell silent, nodding in agreement. the two of you knew alessia well enough to know that though she shouldn't blame herself, she already would be.
"come on, time to start damage control." lotte sighed tiredly, slinging an arm over your shoulder as the two of you joined the team for the thank you lap and clap.
as much as you wanted to rush right to your girlfriends side to comfort her, crushing defeat already plastered on her face, you knew she needed some time and space. you also knew that you needed to give the rest of the team the opportunity to build up their own relationships with the blonde, and consoling her after a loss though never pleasant was a way for bonds to strengthen.
sure enough katie and lia were quickly plastered tightly to alessia's sides, lia squeezing her shoulder comfortingly as katie was gripping onto the younger girls hands tightly as she talked at her.
you weren't close enough to hear what was being said but you'd known the irishwoman long enough to know she would be doing her very best to remind alessia of all that she achieved this game rather than the one thing she missed.
it made your heart soar to see one half of your life mold with the other so successfully.
both you and alessia had been incredibly nervous for how the team would take the two of you dating when she was signed, with only a handful of them you were the closest to knowing about it prior to the announcement of her signing.
however besides the relentless teasing and jokes about how obviously smitten you were with one another, it had been smooth sailing and your favorite blonde had been welcomed into the team with hugs, grins and open arms.
you'd both of course made a pact about how you'd interact and communicate with one another around the team in professional environments, this was your job and a workplace after all. though as said you were smitten with one another, so some days you were a little less strict about this than others.
it wasn't until you were all in the change rooms after the loss that you finally had the chance to be with alessia, a lot of the team and coaching staff having pulled her aside to try and build her back up. affirming she had nothing to feel bad over, keeping you feeling grateful that your second family had her best interests at heart.
even jonas had taken her one on one and provided some well intended feedback about ways she could approach things a little different next time, and reminded her firmly that penalties were the worst way to decide a game, she had nothing to be sorry or beat herself up for.
after all the majority of the girls, yourself and your girlfriend included, had played in the world cup just over a month ago. and without a pre season there was still a lot of work to be put in before you'd all be up and running as one cohesive unit, and now at least you had the time to focus on that if you had to draw one positive from all of this.
however the break of time in between the final whistle and the team huddle to now the change room debrief had given you and lotte some valuable time to brainstorm ways you could try to cheer the blonde up, and you almost had a plan in motion.
half the girls had already filed out of the room and headed for the bus, or were spending a little time talking to the dwindling group of fans waiting eagerly by the exit, you all had around forty minutes until you were scheduled to depart.
you didn't say anything as you sat beside your girlfriend on the bench by her locker, the striker clearly lost in her own thoughts as she jumped slightly when she felt your warm hand land gently on her knee.
still nothing needed to be said as your eyes softened and hers conveyed utter defeat and exhaustion, long blonde hair slightly damp from the quick shower she'd taken in an attempt to wash away the immense guilt wracking her body.
your lips curled into a half smile seeing she'd tugged on your travel hoodie, having stolen it out of your kit bag as you were side tracked whispering away in the halls outside with lotte.
your smile only widened when your girlfriend wordlessly dropped her travel shirt and hoodie in your lap for you to put on later, the blondes head coming to slump on your shoulder as her long arms wrapped lazily around your torso.
you grabbed one of her hands with yours, intertwining your fingers and lovingly brushing your thumb against her knuckles. your other hand rubbed circles into the small of her back and you felt her body heave a long and tired exhale as she crumpled into you.
"i'm really proud of you lessi, i hope you know that." you whispered to her quietly, sharing a small smile with katie and jen as they walked past the two of you, the older girls looking on somewhat proudly seeing your girlfriend curled into your side as you were obviously trying to comfort her.
though it also must have looked quite awkward given the striker was a good foot or two taller than you, and you knew if she stayed in this position for too long she'd be rewarded with a stiff neck and back tomorrow.
"my golden goal scoring girl." you mumbled sincerely, the blonde squeezing your intertwined hands in a silent thank you before pulling herself up. "have a quick shower and i'll meet you on the bus tesoro." the italian nodded behind her to the showers before pressing a short but sweet kiss to your lips, grabbing her belongings and heading out of the change room with lotte.
~
showered and changed you felt an immediate and immense sense of calm settle over you as you clutched at the red material and inhaled deeply, senses drowned in the comforting aroma of your girlfriend.
sweet notes of lavender and bergamont from her favorite body mist that was used every game day, as well as the more subtle hints of green apple and roses from her shampoo. due to your height difference your body was swallowed in your girls shirt and hoodie, but you never minded.
given that for the majority of your relationship you'd been doing distance in some way with playing for different clubs, only really having proper quality time in the off season or during national camps. the ease and comfort of stealing one anothers clothes had become tradition, and it felt like a warm hug from the taller girl anytime you wore something that you knew was hers.
noticing you were one of the last to leave you hurried to collect and pack your belongings, tripping over caitlin's boots she'd left behind you grabbed them with a roll of your eyes and headed out of the stadium.
you took a few quick pictures and flashed a pearly white smile with a soft thank you to the last few fans hanging around before ascending the steps of the bus.
you couldn't help but laugh quietly at the scenes before you. beth was as usual on her karaoke machine, clearly trying to up everyone's moods by belting out an incredibly tone deaf version of river deep mountain high as she danced her way up and down the aisles.
some of the team were clapping along in encouragement while others had headphones on and were tucked away in their own world, clearly reflecting on the match that had been and what it now meant for you all as a team.
though beth seemed to respect this and only engaged with those who seemed willing participants of her chaos.
"you'd forget your head if it wasn't attached to your body foordy." you teased the australian as you offered up her boots, the girls eyes widening as katie cackled beside her and she elbowed the irish woman before accepting the boots, stating over and over that she owed you one which you playfully affirmed you'd not forget.
the smile remained on your face as you spotted alessia halfway down the bus, sat in front of lotte and across from viccy and cloe. the striker was chatting away to the small group with a much more relaxed demeanor, small smile on her face as she seemed in decent spirits.
her features brightened as she noticed you making your way toward her, of course wearing her hoodie.
"i didn't know we were allowed to change our numbers y/l/n? 23 now are you?" viccy teased, instantly noticing you were wearing your girlfriends clothes as you flipped her off, shuffling past alessia and dropping down into the vacant window seat beside her.
"my favorite 23." alessia turned her head and murmured quietly with a smile, kissing your cheek fondly as she tugged your legs to drape over hers.
"whose wearing my missing shoes too it would seem." she shot you a knowing look as admittedly you might have previously lied about not knowing the whereabouts to the adidas trainers, which were a favorite pair of the blonde.
"good news, i found them!" you smiled innocently, head thumping back gently against the window as you turned your body more to the side to get comfortable.
a few more minutes of chatter among you all and everyone had boarded, beth finally ceasing her verbal abuse to your ears in the form of her singing, instead joining lia, gio, frida and lina in a heated game of blackjack.
the engine roaring to life the bus was to take you back to the hotel where you'd all pack and have dinner together before heading off to germany tonight on a late night flight.
"can i ask a stupid question?" you asked your girlfriend quietly once everyone else had settled and she nodded, her attention now focused back solely on you as she absentmindedly traced shapes on your bare legs which laid in her lap, goosebumps arising along your tanned skin at her gentle touch.
"how are you feeling baby?" you asked somewhat cautiously, knowing it was stupid considering the loss you'd all just taken. "can i get back to you on that a little bit later love?" alessia replied with a somewhat pained smile as you nodded reassuringly, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you as she offered you one of her airpods.
you both busied yourself making a shared playlist for the flight later tonight, already having chosen to sit next to one another as you'd opted to sit with other team mates on the flight to sweden, and given the late time of night you both knew you'd likely want to sleep during the journey.
you glanced down to your phone in your lap as lotte sent you an influx of messages, confirming everything seemed to be moving along well for your little plan to lift alessia's spirits even more.
you poked your head over the top of your seat and gave her a thumbs up when your girlfriend wasn't looking, and before you knew it the bus had pulled into the hotel.
you both took your time getting off, allowing those who were in a rush to hurry forth as you dawdled, chatting with lia as the older girl dropped down into the seat in front of the two of you.
but once you were finally all off and had grabbed your belongings, the plan begun to come into affect.
"hey russo! come play a few rounds of cards in our room." katie called from a few feet away once you strode into the hotel lobby, an offer which though was sincere, was also set up by you and lotte to give the two of you a little alone time.
"come on, i heard the united girls had some sort of a poker cult going. let's see what you're made of then!" the irish woman grinned teasingly at the striker who hesitated and glanced toward you by her side.
"go on baby, she needs the humbling." you encouraged softly, poking her sides as she nodded with a soft smile, kissing your cheek and hurrying off after katie who subtly gave you a thumbs up behind the strikers back before disappearing into the elevator.
"we'll do it in my room in case she comes to yours looking for you, katie just said she'll try to keep her occupied for about a half hour or so. then we have a few hours till dinner!" lotte recounted as you nodded along and the two of you headed up toward her and alessia's shared room.
again with it being both of your first away games you and your girlfriend had opted not to room with one another, again giving her the chance to bond a little more with the team and not flaunt your shared relationship in everyone's face.
"okay, operation toilet paper party is a go." "lots that is not the name we agreed upon." "maybe, but you have to admit operation cheer up lessi just doesn't have the same catchy ring to it." "whatever you say wubben-moy."
~
it was down to the wire but the two of you just managed to pull it off, giving a satisfied nod at your efforts as katie messaged to say alessia was on her way back to her room as you'd planned, jen informing her that you were doing some media before dinner to assure she didn't head to yours looking for you.
"ready?" lotte mouthed and you nodded as you both watched the light click from red to green as alessia swiped her card in the door, pushing it open.
"congratulations lessi!" you and lotte both yelled loudly with a cheer, alessia jumping and clutching at her chest in shock from the sudden unexpected fright.
though once the messy hastily cut up homemade confetti came raining down upon her, her face morphed into a slightly confused smile, which only widened seeing the rushed half hazard toilet paper hung around the room as makeshift streamers.
"what is all this?" alessia asked with a small laugh of surprise.
"it's a toil-" lotte started as you elbowed her sharply with a firm look. "it's for you. a congratulations you scored your first goal for arsenal and are currently the leading goal scorer of the team with two epic goals that kept us in the game party!" you rambled out in one breath.
"i tried telling her the name was too long, but we both know how stubborn she is." lotte sighed dramatically with an eye roll making alessia laugh. "hey!" you frowned in offence, shoving the taller bruntte lightly.
"but regardless, congratulations!" you and lotte gave another cheer, throwing your other handfuls of confetti though with yours was done with poor aim as it landed in the blondes face.
"sorry." you whispered with an apologetic wince, taking a step forward and plucking off a few stray pieces of confetti which had stuck to mouth.
"guys." alessia breathed out, biting her bottom lip as a few tears welled up in her bright baby blue eyes. "hey don't cry! this is a happy moment, something to celebrate. that second goal was a worldie less." lotte assured with a soft smile.
"yeah baby you crushed it. and its only our second game! the droughts been broken and the flood gates are open and you're going to be a goal scoring machine." you affirmed, lotte nodding along in eager agreement.
"a force to be reckoned with!" "the italian stallion." "the russonator!" "the golden boot goddess." "taking names and kicking goals!"
your girlfriend let out a half sob half laugh at the assortment of nicknames, reaching out to the both of you for a hug which you both gladly allowed her to pull you into, lotte rubbing her back as you kissed her cheek.
"you're both the best. thank you!" alessia smiled, clearly overwhelmed with emotion as you reached up to tenderly wipe away her tears with the sleeve of your hoodie, making lotte aww as you rolled your eyes.
"oh and we have snacks! because what toilet paper party doesn't have snacks." lotte remembered, gesturing to the somewhat strange assortment of food laid out on the coffee table.
"lotte that is not the name we agreed on!" you huffed with a frown at her words, alessia tugging you into her and kissing the side of your head affectionately with a quiet laugh, mumbling how much she loved you in your ear.
"we don't technically know what most of it is. stina sort of went door to door collecting for us from everyones mini bar, and she said they all taste good!" lotte shrugged, rubbing the back of her neck as you all surveyed the swedish treats in front of you.
"we have a couple hours before dinner to snack, we have pitch perfect loaded and we grabbed extra pillows from reception so we can be extra comfy." you explained, alessia crumbling internally at how much obvious thought and care had been put into this.
"correction she stole some extra pillows from reception." lotte teased as you stuck your tongue out and the girl excused herself to use the bathroom, encouraging you both settle in and begin the movie.
"well hi." you mumbled against alessia's lips with a laugh as the striker pulled you into a searing kiss the moment lotte closed the bathroom door. "babe!" you laughed again as she easily picked you up, wrapping your legs around her waist as she bear hugged you as tight as she possibly could.
"i love you so very much lessi baby, you're amazing. you know that right?" you cupped her face and pressed your forehead to hers, reaching out to gently swipe away a loose tear which carved its way down her cheek.
"i can't-baby i don't know what to say." alessia managed to stammer out, still overcome with a waterfall of emotions. "you don't have to say anything, i just want you to feel supported and appreciated. without you coming on and changing the game we wouldn't have even stood a chance yeah? you alessia mia teresa russo are brilliant."
"god i'm so fucking in love with you." the blonde breathed out, eyes burning with a loving passion, the taller girl admiring you as if it was the first time she'd ever laid eyes on you.
"aw i love you both too!" lotte clapped sarcastically, throwing a pillow at the two of you with a groan and collapsing onto the bed as alessia placed you back down on your feet.
the two of you soon joined her, opening some of the swedish snacks as lotte clicked play on the movie.
"cheers to a successful toilet paper party!" "lotte for the one hundreth time that is not what we agreed on calling it!" "hey i don't know amore mio it is the first toilet paper party i've ever been to but it seems successful." "alessia! don't encourage her, whose side are you on?" "best toilet paper party ever!" "i simply cannot stand either of you."
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