#but thing is my mum had talked to me about DID before when practicing one of her lectures

[nemo-writes]

𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖿 141 + 𝗏𝖺𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗌 ; 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 ── .✦

── .✦ 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗉 ; "𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇."

It’s day three of bed rest, and Soap’s already climbed up the walls of his room and back down again. Injured or not, he’s never been one to sit still, and being restricted to the base with “no hard jobs, no missions”—as the medic had stressed—has left him itching for something to do. Restless, he decides to wander, eventually finding himself at the library-slash-records room, a quiet corner of base he’s never thought to visit before.

He thumbs through a book on the nearest shelf, flipping pages more out of boredom than actual interest, when a voice behind him makes him nearly jump out of his skin.

“Good choice,” you say casually, glancing over his shoulder at the book in his hands. “I read that one when I was a teenager.”

Soap whips around, wide-eyed and ready to defend himself before he registers you standing there, a bemused smile on your face. It’s not often anyone manages to sneak up on him, especially after working alongside Ghost—but here you are, quiet as a shadow.

“Christ, you gave me a fright!” He laughs, trying to shake off his surprise. “You a ghost yourself, or just a natural sneak?”

“Neither,” you reply with a shrug. “I just work here. Records department.”

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head with a hint of scepticism. “Records, aye? Right, sure. So… what squad d’you belong to, then?”

You laugh, not seeming to mind his incredulity. “No squad. No task force, either. Just a regular base staff member. I make sure all your physical files stay organised, is all.”

“Well, I didn't expect to find a hidden gem like you in here,” he says, putting on his usual flirty grin, expecting some kind of blush or maybe even a shy look.

But you just give another amused smile. “I’m not a gem, just the records keeper. I also stock the books,” you add, gesturing around. “Figured a small library might be good for those interested. We don’t have much, but it’s a nice change of pace for some people.”

The flirting sails right over your head, and Soap’s grin falters ever so slightly before he recovers. “Ah, so you're the one to thank for this wee slice of quiet paradise on base, huh?”

You nod, a touch of pride slipping through as you straighten a few already-tidy books. “It’s simple, but I like to keep things in order here for whoever wants to pick up something to read.”

Soap tries another grin, leaning against a shelf, his tone softening just a bit. “Well, reckon I’ll be a regular if it means more chats like this. Seems like a fair deal, yeah?”

But you only hum thoughtfully, eyes scanning the shelf beside him, clearly cataloguing if anything’s out of place. Soap finds himself smirking, both amused and oddly challenged by how thoroughly you’ve ignored his attempts to charm you. He realises with a quiet laugh that this just might be the break he needed.

. . .

In the quiet of his quarters, Soap lounges on his bunk with the phone pressed to his ear, listening to his mum and sister talk about his childhood. It had started with the usual check-in—hearing how he was healing, how things were on base—and soon drifted into familiar family banter.

His sister, Cait, laughs as she recalls his ‘miraculous’ ability to get hurt every other day growing up. “Remember when you broke both your arms jumping off that shed roof, John?” she teases, barely stifling her laughter. “Mum had to practically wrap you in bubble wrap.”

“Aye, aye, laugh it up,” Soap mutters, though he’s grinning. “Was tryin’ to perfect my landing, is all.”

His mum’s voice chimes in with a fond chuckle, “Perfect it you did, son. Broke both arms and had us all in stitches—not just ‘cause of the casts, but because you couldn’t stop fidgeting.”

“Oh, I remember,” he groans, recalling the itch of the casts and the boredom of sitting still for weeks. “I was goin’ mad with nothing to do!”

“That’s why I read to you,” his mum adds, the warmth in her voice audible even over the line. “You were always restless, even with two arms in casts.”

Soap’s grin turns a bit softer. “I remember that… just not the book itself. Somethin’ about a fox and a forest?”

His mum hums thoughtfully. “It was a sweet story, but I can’t recall the title. Do you, Cait?”

Cait only chuckles, clearly drawing a blank. “Oh, I remember the fuss he made, but the book? Not a chance.”

Soap shakes his head, feeling a little pang of nostalgia. “Wouldn’t mind findin’ it again someday. Reminds me of home.”

A few days later, Soap strides through the hallway, his arm still snug in a sling but his energy undeterred. He greets everyone he passes, effortlessly drawing smiles and laughter from a few soldiers standing by the vending machines. A corporal waves, and Soap flashes him a quick grin, offering a joking salute with his free hand. 

But today, he’s not here to soak up the attention. His steps have purpose, carrying him straight back to the quiet sanctuary of the records room. When he steps inside, the calm hits him like a breath of fresh air. His eyes land on you instantly, tucked in the back of the room, your head bent over something on the desk.

You’re focused, scribbling notes or reading from a thick stack of papers, and for a moment, Soap just watches. There’s something about the way the light catches on your face, the peaceful concentration you exude. He doesn’t even realise he’s smiling until his cheeks ache slightly. He adjusts his posture and clears his throat, strolling over casually, pretending not to notice the way his pulse picks up just a bit.

“Hey, there,” he says, his voice breaking the quiet like a soft ripple on a still pond. You glance up, blinking at the interruption, and he swears there’s a flicker of recognition in your gaze that makes his chest tighten.

“Back again?” you tease lightly, setting your pen down. “Getting into trouble already?”

“Nah, just takin’ it easy,” he says, his tone breezy. “Needed a break from bein’ so popular, y’know? The fans are relentless.” He winks, and you roll your eyes, though there’s a smile tugging at your lips.

He shifts slightly, leaning his good arm against the edge of the desk. “Actually, I was hopin’ you might be able to help me with somethin’. Feels a bit daft, but here goes.” He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly feeling the weight of how silly this might sound. “There’s this book. From when I was a kid. My Ma read it to me when I broke both arms once—don’t ask,” he adds quickly, grinning sheepishly. “But I can’t remember the title. Just bits of it.”

That piques your interest. You sit up a little straighter, curiosity lighting up your features. “What do you remember about it?” you ask, your tone genuinely warm.

Soap exhales, relieved you haven’t laughed him off, and starts piecing it together. “Right, so it was about this fox. A scrappy wee thing, always gettin’ into trouble. Lived in a forest, sneakin’ around like it owned the place. There was… a badger, I think? Big, grumpy fella, always tellin’ the fox to stop bein’ reckless. But the fox didn’t listen—bit of a troublemaker, that one.”

You nod, your attention fixed on him, and it spurs him on. “One part I remember clear as day—there was a trap. The fox got its paw caught, and I thought it was done for. Had my heart in my throat. My Ma kept tellin’ me it’d be fine, but I was sweatin’ over it.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck as if to brush off the emotion. “Then there was somethin’ about the forest gettin’ destroyed, so the fox had to leave. Find a new home, y’know?”

You lean forward slightly, completely drawn in, and it makes his pulse quicken. “That sounds… really sweet, actually. And a little sad.”

“Aye, it was,” he says, his voice softer now. “Hit me like a brick back then. Think I might’ve cried—don’t tell anyone that,” he adds quickly, wagging a finger with mock severity.

Your smile widens. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But… you’re describing it so vividly. I might know it. Hang on.” You tap your chin thoughtfully, sorting through your mental catalog of titles. Soap watches you closely, his expression softening as you mentally sift through the possibilities. After a moment, you shake your head, regret flashing in your eyes. “I think I know the book, but I don’t have it here. Sorry.”

Soap raises his brows, clearly impressed. “You’ve got a memory like a steel trap, lass. How d’you even keep track of all that?”

You wave him off modestly, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “It’s nothing, really. I just like books. Spend enough time with them, and you start remembering the little details.”

“Still,” you say, your tone tinged with determination. “I’ll keep an eye out. If it crosses my path, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.”

Soap’s grin widens, his eyes crinkling in that way that makes it hard to look away. “Aye, I’ll hold you to that.” His voice softens, and for a moment, there’s a quiet warmth between you that neither of you rush to fill.

“Thanks,” he says finally, the sincerity in his tone catching you slightly off guard. “You’re good company, y’know that?”

Before you can reply, he pushes off the desk with his good arm, the playful edge returning to his expression as he gives you a wink. “Don’t let me distract you too much, aye? I’ll see myself out.”

You manage a small laugh, watching as he makes his way toward the door, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in his wake. But just as he steps into the hallway, he pauses, glancing back through the open door.

For a brief second, his gaze softens, the memory of the fox, his Ma’s soothing voice, and the quiet comfort of your little nook weaving together to warm a part of him he hadn’t realised needed it. With a nod to himself, he turns away, the thought of returning already forming in the back of his mind.

. . .

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual hum of conversation and clatter of trays. Soap, now out of his sling and feeling like himself again, sat among Gaz, Ghost, and a few others from the base, his laughter loud and infectious as they swapped stories and teased one another. His attention was fully on Gaz’s exaggerated recounting of a drill mishap when Ghost’s gravelly voice cut through the din.

“Oi, Johnny. Little mouse headed this way.”

Soap blinked, confused, until Ghost gave a subtle nod toward the figure approaching from behind. Soap twisted around, and his breath hitched the moment he spotted you.

Springing to his feet far too quickly, Soap’s knee hit the table with a loud clang, trays rattling dangerously. The others shouted half-hearted complaints, but Soap didn’t care. All his attention was on you, standing there with a paper bag in hand, a shy smile gracing your lips.

“I—uh—hi,” Soap stammered, suddenly unsure of himself as you held the bag out toward him.

“I found it,” you said simply, your tone giddy. “Thought you might like to have it.”

He stared at the bag, then at you, before carefully taking it from your hands. His fingers brushed yours briefly, and he swore he felt a spark. Peeking inside, his jaw dropped. There it was—the book. The cover was pristine, like it had just been pulled from a bookstore shelf.

“You didn’t…” he began, but words failed him. His gaze flicked between the book and your face, awe written plainly across his features.

You chuckled softly, patting the hand that held the book. “It’s no big deal. Enjoy it, yeah?”

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Soap frozen in place. He watched you go, only snapping out of his trance when Gaz whistled low under his breath. Soap turned back to the table, clutching the bag as if it held a treasure.

Seated back at the table, the book resting carefully in his lap, he barely touched his food, his usual chatter replaced by a soft, distracted smile. He flipped the book over in his hands, running his thumb along the edges of the paper bag, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Someone’s got a fan,” Gaz teased, grinning.

“Shut it,” Soap muttered, his cheeks flushing.

But the teasing didn’t stop there. One of the younger men at the table, a mechanic who had joined the base recently, leaned forward, asking him about you with a smirk edged with something he didn’t like, at all.

Soap’s expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching. Ghost, always the observer, grumbled lowly. “Leave it, lad,” he warned, his voice a quiet rumble. The mechanic wisely dropped the subject.

As the conversation shifted back to base gossip, Soap’s focus stayed on the book in his hands. He traced the edges of the paper bag absentmindedly, his mind replaying the moment you’d handed it to him and the warmth of your hand on his. His smile widened, soft and genuine, as he looked the book over again, the edges of the paper bag crinkling beneath his fingers.

Ghost glanced at Soap briefly, noting the faraway look in his eyes. With a barely audible snort, he shook his head and returned to his meal, leaving the smitten Scotsman to his thoughts.

. . .

Soap spent the better part of the next day scouring every corner of the base, peeking into offices, workshops, and even the records room during normal hours, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Each empty space only added to his frustration.

“Sneaky little mouse," he muttered under his breath with an undeniable smile, hands on his hips.

His gripping earned a chuckle from Gaz, who leaned back in his chair and exchanged a knowing look with Ghost. “Maybe you’re just not lookin’ in the right places, mate,” Gaz teased, popping a peanut into his mouth.

Ghost, however, offered a rare bit of practical advice. “Try the rec room. Late hours.” His tone was low, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Sometimes I go there when I can’t sleep. Tea’s decent, and I watch matches on my phone. Could be she’s got the same idea.”

Soap perked up at the suggestion, nodding gratefully. “Aye, worth a shot. Thanks, mate!"

Later that evening, Soap made his way to the rec room. The base was quieter, the halls dimly lit, and the faint hum of a vending machine filled the otherwise empty space. As he approached the rec room, the soft clink of a kettle caught his attention. Peering in, he spotted you by the small kitchenette, the warm glow of the stove’s light illuminating your face as you poured hot water into a mug.

For a moment, he hesitated. His usual bravado faltered as he took in the calm scene, unsure how to approach without disturbing the peaceful air you carried with you. But then, squaring his shoulders, he stepped inside.

“Didn’t think I’d find you 'ere,” he said, his voice low but carrying a playful lilt.

You glanced over your shoulder, surprised but smiling softly when you saw him. “Evening, Sergeant. Tea, late-night stroll, or both?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Both, maybe. Been lookin’ for you, actually. You’ve got a knack for disappearin’, y’know.”

You turned back to the stove, shaking your head lightly as you reached for another mug. “You found me now, didn’t you? Want some tea?”

“Aye, thanks.” Soap approached, watching as you handed him the steaming mug. He cradled it, savoring the warmth in his hands. “Listen, about the book…”

You waved him off, cutting him off before he could continue. “It’s nothing, really. I should be the one thanking you. You’ve shown interest in the books and my little corner. It means a lot to have someone notice.”

Soap blinked, caught off guard by your words. Before you could turn back around to retrieve your own mug, he reached out, catching your hand. His fingers curled around yours gently, his thumb brushing the back of your knuckles.

The contact was warm, steady, and startlingly tender.

“No,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “It wasn’t nothin’. You went out of your way for me, and… it means more than I can say.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat when he lifted your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your fingers. His lips were warm, his expression earnest as he looked up at you, gratitude and something deeper shining in his eyes.

For once, you were the one left speechless, your heart skipping a beat as the weight of his sincerity settled over you. Soap released your hand gently, his fingers lingering for just a moment before pulling back.

“Thank you,” he said again, his voice a near whisper.

You swallowed, your cheeks feeling uncharacteristically warm. “You’re welcome, Sergeant,” you managed, offering him a soft smile.

“Stay a while?” he asked, nodding toward the small table tucked into the corner.

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could overthink it, you nodded, moving to sit down. He followed, his mug cradled in his hands as he eased into the chair across from you. The quiet hum of the room settled over you both, broken only by the soft clink of his mug against the table as he set it down.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, it felt warm, almost fragile, like something new and precious was taking root between you.

“You’ve got a knack for this,” he said, his tone low and easy.

“For what?” you asked, taking a sip of your tea.

“Doin’ things that catch a man off guard,” he replied, his blue eyes glinting with something playful yet sincere. “Like huntin’ down a book I barely remembered just to give me a piece of my past back.”

You waved him off modestly, though the compliment made your chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. "It's...just a book."

“To you, maybe,” he countered, his voice soft. “To me, it’s somethin’ more. And so’s this.”

He gestured vaguely, encompassing the quiet space you now shared, the table between you feeling more like a bridge than a barrier.

You lowered your gaze to your mug, the steam curling upward as you processed his words. There was a warmth in his voice, an openness you hadn’t expected but found yourself leaning into.

When you finally looked up, Soap was watching you, his gaze steady and filled with something unspoken. You held his eyes, the corners of your lips curving into a smile that matched his.

“This is nice,” you murmured, almost to yourself.

“Aye,” he agreed, his voice low. “It is.”

And as the two of you sat there, sipping tea and sharing quiet smiles, the space between you seemed to shrink, the glow of the moment wrapping around you both like a promise of something more to come.

banner credit

[cyberr-v0id]

I just love when someone is misusing and misexplaining psychology and neurodivergent terminology because they’ve learnt it off of TikTok and I have to sit there like I wasn’t raised by a psychotherapist who specialises in traumatised and neurodivergent children

[woso-dreamzzz]

Accident II

Kyra Cooney-Cross x Gorry!Reader

Summary: Lunch with your sister

It wasn't often that Kyra got scared of Mini. Sure, Mini got annoyed at her sometimes but it was never like this.

Kyra ducked to hide behind her menu, unwilling to make eye contact as you chattered away to your sister.

Mini nodded along with whatever you were saying but it was clear she wasn't fully focussed on you. All of her attention was firmly on the hand of yours that Kyra was currently death gripping.

She thought, briefly, about dropping it but then she realised that it was the only thing keeping her in even the same country as the awkward interaction that was brewing. If she let go now, she would be out the door sprinting back to Australia the first chance that she got.

Kyra tightened her grip.

You noticed, smiling at her before you refocused on your sister.

"So," Mini said, her first words since you all settled down at the table," How did you two meet?"

"At the pub. We-"

"No," Mini laughed fondly at you," I want to hear it from Kyra."

You didn't seem to find the malice in her tone so you just nodded, pivoting so you were facing Kyra.

Her throat bobbed, suddenly feeling parched. She cleared her throat. "Well...Katie and Caitlin took me to a pub after one of our matches. I tripped..." Kyra pointedly left out that she had tripped and landed her lips upon yours. "And we just started talking."

Mini nodded. "Hmm, okay." Her eyes narrowed briefly as she stared at Kyra before turning back to you. "And you," She said," All it took to get you into football was dating one of my teammates?"

You grinned. "I wouldn't go that far. I just like supporting Kyra."

Mini's gaze returned to Kyra again as you slipped off into the bathroom. Kyra wondered briefly if she should have gotten up to go with you because being alone with Mini right now felt like a nightmare come to life.

She shrunk under Mini's gaze and busied herself with sipping her drink.

"That's my baby sister, Kyra," Mini said, her tone firm like the one she used to tell off Harper.

"I didn't know at the time," Kyra replied," Honest! I would have told you if I knew!"

"Would you?"

Kyra winced. Now that she thought about it, no, she probably wouldn't have told Mini that she was dating you. "I would!" She lied.

"You would have what?" You chose that moment to return to the table, drying off your hands as you slipped into your seat.

"Kyra was just telling me that she would have happily told me that you two were dating if she'd known we were related."

You scrunched up your nose. "I wouldn't have," You said," You're scary sometimes, Kat. If I'd known you two already knew each other then I would have hidden this for longer."

Mini scoffed. "Yeah? And why's that?"

You shrugged. "You're scary," You repeated," You scared off people I wasn't even dating. I don't want you to run off Kyra too. I love her."

Mini rolled her eyes and Kyra grabbed your hand again.

She was worried, you knew this but you'd had years of practice with Katrina to know when to stand your ground. To Katrina, you'd always been (and probably always would be) her immature little sister. You'd always had to stand your ground to get her to take you seriously.

She stared at you, eyes narrowing in an attempt to get you to submit to her will. You had to admit, ever since having Harper, Katrina had perfected the mum look - having practised on you for years.

You stared back, unwilling to even blink.

Kyra looked between you both, a chill running up her spine at the battle of wills you were locked into.

"Er..."

"If she hurts you, I'll kill her," Mini promised you. It seemed like a threat that was meant to go to Kyra but she said it to you instead.

You shrugged. "As if I'd let you find her."

"Good."

"Good."

You picked up your menu. "I'm thinking gammon."

Mini picked up her menu too. "Funny, I was leaning more towards the eggs."

Kyra sat there in shock as she stared, eyes wide. "Wait, is that it?"

You frowned. "Sorry, I should have asked. Kyra, what did you want? I assumed we were going to share. Did you want something else?"

Your words didn't solve Kyra's shock at all and she was left to scramble for what she wanted on the menu.

[itsnevercasual]

Sweet Creature

harry styles masterlist

pairing: kinda dark!harry styles x reader

summary: harry’s mother finds a girl on the side of the street one day while harry’s away. he hears about her for months, until he finally decides to see for himself. expecting her to be an undercover rat, he is surprised to find a girl more similar to a deer in headlights.

warning: kinda dark harry kinda alludes to him doing illegal, mafia type stuff but it isn’t specified. third person writing instead of second, READER DOESN’T USE HER REAL NAME!!! she will eventually just not yet.

—

harry had been hearing about some girl non-stop. by who, you may ask?

his mother.

his sweet, kind mother somehow found a girl who was living on the streets, took her in (gave her his room!), and is obsessed with her.

“oh, harry, she’s just the sweetest! gemma says she’s like a kicked puppy, but she’s just so sweet. this morning, i woke up, and she’d cleaned the whole house! and i asked her why, because i obviously didn’t tell her to, and she said she figured she should. you’d love her. proper sweetheart.”

and honestly, it was sweet. he probably would like her if he wasn’t the way he is. because the way he is, he thinks it’s a trap. he thinks she was never really living on the streets, and it’s a ploy. someone found his family and is trying to ruin it.

but, of course, he’d never let his mother know of the way he actually is and thinks, or what he does for a living.

“she sounds lovely, mum. what did you say her name was?”

“she says it’s belle. she’s always singing some french song. i think she lived in france before she got here.. i’m not sure. she isn’t very talkative.”

“she got an accent?”

“a little bit of everything, hazza. when will you come visit? i think you have to be the one to tell her that your room is hers now. she keeps saying ‘harry’s room’ and ‘your son’s room’. i feel horrible!”

“she’s probably just weary mum. if she was on the streets before, she probably just doesn’t want to jinx it.”

“you’re right.. gosh, she won’t even let gemma and i buy her things. she just borrows gemma’s clothes and apologizes a bunch for it. i’m not sure what to do.”

“i’ll come visit soon.”

—

and he did. a surprise visit in the middle of the night, because he was convinced he’s find this belle girl doing shady things .

except when he snuck in the front door, the house was quiet.

alright, he supposes, she’s stealthy.

so he goes upstairs and quietly opens his bedroom door.

and that’s when it’s a little louder. a girl is twisted and turning and mumbling in her sleep on his bed.

all she is saying, from what he can hear, is no. no, no, no, no, no. please, no.

and he feels a little bad, so he walks over to tap her. when that doesn’t work, he shakes her.

her eyes snap open and she has probably the worst reaction possible in this situation.

she fucking screams. like a goddamn banshee.

and sure, it lasts for maybe five seconds, probably four, but she definitely woke his mother up. and it’s so loud, he backs up to the doorway.

gemma was probably still passed out. she would sleep through the world ending.

“hey! it’s just me, calm down!”

she squinted at him through the darkness before yanking the chain on the lamp, turning it on.

he could hear her practically hyperventilating from the doorway.

she let out a sigh of relief when she recognized him from the photos in the living room.

“you really are jumpy, huh?”

“i woke up to a random man hovering over me,” she deadpans.

he almost laughs.

“it’s my room.”

and it’s like a fucking switch. her breaths are staggered and labored, but she still rushes out a whole ass monologue. kicked puppy, indeed.

“oh, my god. i am so sorry. i forgot. i can— i can take the couch— you probably want to sleep in your bed. i’m sorry, anne didn’t say you were coming by or else i would’ve cleaned up—“

the room is spotless, probably cleaner than when he stays in it, but harry doesn’t say that.

“i’ll just.. grab my blanket and stuff and go to the couch. i’m so sorry, i didn’t know—“

“relax,” he finally says. “i knew you’d be in here. i was just.. grabbing a pillow. didn’t realize mum was serious about you being jumpy.”

“oh.. uh.. are you sure? i can take the couch—“

“belle— belle, right?” she nods. “go back to bed. i have slept on plenty of couches. i will survive.”

“i feel bad.”

“well, don’t.”

he should feel bad. she is very clearly not dangerous unless she is a phenomenal actress.

“you’re not mad, are you? because i can sleep on the couch—“

“jesus, are y’gonna cry?”

“i can’t help it! i’m sorry!—“

“what on earth is going on— harry! what did you do!” anne asked as she rushed through the doorway, moving to sit next to belle.

“i didn’t do anything!” he defends.

“he didn’t do anything, anne,” she repeats. “just.. frightened me, is all.”

anne gives her a look before pulling her into a hug, and she just flips another switch and instead of watering eyes, she sobs.

who the hell is her acting coach? maybe he could take a few lessons.

“h, go get her a cuppa.. and there’s those baby yogurt melts in the cupboard.”

he doesn’t comment on the fact that belle is at the very least 19, and probably shouldn’t be eating baby food.

—

the next morning, belle made her way downstairs quietly. she was surprised to see harry making a cup of tea this early, but she didn’t say anything, not wanting to disturb his peace.

she adjusted her earbuds in her ear (anne offered to buy her better ones, airpods or something, but she was fine with her earbuds, even if the wire was a pain in the ass), so they didn’t fall out as she walked.

once she made it into the kitchen, she walked into the pantry, grabbing some random granola bar.

when she turned, she jumped. harry was right behind her. well, in front of her now.

“sorry,” she mumbled, moving out of his way.

he muttered something she didn’t understand.

“um.. sorry about.. last night. i’m kind of jumpy.”

“i noticed.”

he was very short. he didn’t seem to like her much.

“you can.. uh.. take your.. room back.. if you want.”

“it’s yours. i’m fine.”

“are you—“

“i’m sure.”

rude. why was he so rude? what had she done to him? well, besides scream at him, but in her defense, he was just hovering over her! that’s weird!

—

harry still didn’t trust her after a week of being there. she kept to herself for the most part, although he was pretty sure he heard her and gemma giggling in the middle of the night.

he just couldn’t figure out who sent her. why she was here.

his mother explained her freakout when he showed up eventually.

“you gotta be careful with her, h. she’s like.. a bunny, in a way. if you aren’t careful in how you approach her and speak to her, she bolts. first day she was here, i asked her what happened, because she had this horrible cut on her cheek. locked herself in your room for a week. i think whatever put her on the streets is a sensitive topic, and was difficult for her.”

“i jus’ dunno if i trust her, mum.”

“well, i do. she’s sweet, she just needs to warm up to you. she warmed up to me and gemma after about a week or two.. and she’s been more jumpy when gem brings michael around. so.. she might just need a minute.”

“the whole thing just seems.. shady.”

“she’ll tell us when she’s ready. and until then, you’ll make her feel welcomed. speaking of, i’m gonna go wash her clothes. poor girl won’t let us buy her anything. she just has these same clothes she had and a few things gemma convinced her to use.”

—

a/n: little thing i wrote on a plane, part 2 soon-ish maybe

[sushirrrry]

CELESTIAL | I. LAW OF UNIVERSAL GRAVITATION 6.1k words - on-going story story summary here ** please be nice, this is the first on-going story I'll be posting!!

Tuesday mornings were nothing to brag about, especially when my statistics class started at eight in the morning. I’d gotten in the simple routine—wake up around six, roll out of bed, take a shower, eat some breakfast, and get on my way.

It was weird what our bodies did normally. The idea of routine, the idea of being simple. Creating routine was one of the easier things that I had been able to teach myself. It was scientific; learned behavior became natural to humans. Practice made perfect.

I always got ready that early and found time to myself before the sun fully rose in the sky. I didn't have a problem waking up early, I never had—maybe that’s what made it easier for me, though. I never bothered my mum about school, or never once tried to sleep-in because I didn’t want to go to school. Something about being up early was always comforting to me.

Well, being up early and being in school were both comforting to me in different ways.

Seeing the moon circle around the earth again was kind of freaking cool, if I was honest. My mum never had to worry about me staying up late and hiding under my covers with a book—well, she did have to worry about that a little bit— but mostly, she had to worry about me taking the telescope to the window so early in the morning.

The moment when the sun and the moon pass because the darkness is fading– everyone always talks about the sunrise, but what about the moon falling? I always liked seeing the change. It was when the night met the daylight, and the world turned over.

This morning wasn’t really like that at all, considering it had been chucking it down with rain since the moment I opened my eyes. The sound of rain woke me up early. I sat with the window open next to my bed, listening to the sounds of it pour off the roof of our apartment.

When six rolled around, I was ready to get up. I rubbed over my eyes, yawning. The glasses that sat on my nightstand were thrown on my face as I trekked to my own bathroom—thankfully, I didn’t have to share with my roommate.

I turned on the shower, letting it run for a minute to warm up. I shivered at the thought of the water hitting me instead. The warm water soothed me this early, breathing in the steam to release anything that had built up in the night. I let it run over my neck and face, feeling the warmth of the water wake me up.

The shower routine turned into brushing my teeth, towel drying my hair a bit, and doing my morning skin routine.

Once the shower was done, I chose a plain black sweatshirt with a hood and a pair of jeans, threw on my old pair of black Vans, and made my way out into the kitchen with my backpack.

All the lights were off still; Chase didn’t have class until around ten, so he was never up this early. He strategically chose to make sure that all his classes were later in the morning because he knew he’d never make them. I smiled to myself at the thought.

I threw a Pop-Tart in my bag and started to head out of the apartment, knowing that I’d have a bit of time to just eat on my way to class instead. Campus was only a short walk, but the rain was chucking it this morning and didn’t seem to be letting us even as I had gotten ready. I decided that I’d just hop in my car and head over to the building instead of walking a mile in the rain.

Parking on the street was the only option for our apartment building, so I hopped into my car and headed towards the main mathematics building on campus. As soon as I turned on the radio, I let the sounds of 1979 by The Smashing Pumpkins in the speakers as I relax against the seat. I push my hand through my damp hair, annoyed that there were a few rain spots on my glasses.

There are a lot more cars on the road around the flats and campus when the weather was bad. Kids always decided to get rides or drive to class themselves, which meant that parking was like receiving a trophy. There were only a few spots here and there.

But, because I was prompt and on time, I got a spot close to the door that I had to go into. I put the car in park, sitting for a moment before I went to grab the Pop-Tart from my bag. I opened it, taking a bite of one of them as I relaxed in the seat and let the sound of the radio mix with the sound of the rain.

It didn’t bother me that I hadn’t spoken to anyone yet that morning. Life was usually quiet. There were people who I knew needed to have that connection of someone else around them. I never understood that.

Silence and the solace seemed to comfort me in a way that wasn’t too explainable. I knew that people worried about it—people saw it as a sign of something worse than it was—it was odd to people who didn’t know how it felt. But I truly felt more comfort in the way that my routine worked, rather than the fast-paced environment of always needing to be around others.

I didn’t let myself down, usually. I had comfort in knowing I was dependable; I would always be there for me.

I was at my own pace; I had my own comfort in satisfaction rather than needing distraction. I was able to work on my own life and not worry about having to work on anyone else’s. There was certainly a difference between being alone and being lonely.

My mum worried I didn’t interact enough, my sister worried that I wasn’t thriving in the space like anyone else was—she liked to project herself onto me at times.

“When I was college, I was at the bars practically every night. You can afford to go every once in a while, you know.” She’d tell me. In some respects, I understood what she meant. There was validity to her concerns for me. And I was glad that she was able to experience what she wanted, and she was able to look back and feel that it made her a better person.

But that didn’t interest me in the slightest, and I think I had to respect that for myself.

I wouldn’t be able to wake up early if I drank too much; it would throw my routine off, and I wasn’t interested in losing that, either. I didn’t want to not know where I was, or how to do something. I didn’t want to lose control like that. The people that I hung around with to study—none of us were interested in that.

I was interested in receiving my degree, I was interested in the mathematic world—I was interested in everything that was built up around the world. I was interested in learning why everything happened and figuring out scenarios that felt impossible and making them work. I was interested in logic and satellite launches that I had to live stream from the space stations.

In school, I was the captain of the academic team and won gold with the national robotics team two years in a row.

Now, I was finally in the part of life where I had always dreamed of having—studying astrophysics and mathematics at Oxford. I was following in the footsteps of only the greatest mathematicians and physicists of my generation, and eventually my name would be just as notable as his.

Stephen Hawking and Harry Styles. I thought they sounded nice next together if I was honest.

I check my phone, noticing I have about fifteen minutes until class begins. I throw my hood over my head before I grab my backpack from the passenger seat. The rain is coming down when I step out in the parking lot. I quickly make my way to the door, holding it open for another person coming in behind me. The hood hangs from my head as I take my glasses off to wipe the residual rain droplets off them.

The lecture hall that I make my way inside is old. It’s not been updated in so many years, but something about that makes it feel that much more incredible to be walking the same halls of some of the most extraordinary brains to ever exist.

Even if it’s for a general ed statistics course that I need to fill; it’s one of the easiest courses on my schedule this year. I didn’t fill it first year, as I wanted to give myself the most difficult courses I could my first year. I was excited to learn—and statistics wasn’t what I wanted to enjoy when I was in college.

So, I decided to add it in this semester. It’s almost October now—we’re a few weeks into my sophomore year. I’ve loved every minute of being here in this establishment, and I’ve loved everything that it has brought me.

My gravitational pull to this place feels right, and being in this class must have meaning other than the obvious need to graduate. Maybe something will strike—maybe a thought or something that the professor says will undoubtedly make me think about all the other unanswered questions.

I take a seat closer to the back; I think it helps me to be able to set all my papers out in front of me and be able to take notes where I need to. I’m not a huge note person, as I just try to listen. I feel it helps to just keep my mind open. Information goes in, and seemingly, just stays there.

I’m one of the first ones in the hall, but as the time starts to near, there’s around a hundred kids that take up the lecture hall—easily. It’s a gen-ed course, which means that it’s kids from all over the university. The row I’m in is seemingly empty; kids don’t always show up to class, a lot of kids like sitting closer to be able to see what the professor is drawing on the board to try to copy for themselves.

I basically teach myself as I sit with the textbook, trying to follow along with the professor’s words and everything seemingly makes sense.

I pull my water bottle out of my bag to take a sip. The sound of the room in seemingly quiet except for the professor’s words; my brain is focused on the ideas of categorical equations and numeric sequences before an overwhelming presence takes over to the right of me.

“Excuse me,” I hear the voice again, a bit closer to me, “Is this seat taken?” I hear as I stare at the front of the room. I turn my head to the side a bit in a little confusion.

She's standing there with absolutely dripping hair; her jacket is sand-colored but looks like it’s coated in water droplets. She has the most doe-eyed stare I'd ever laid my own on; her eyes are chocolate and amber at the same time and for some reason I don’t know why I can’t answer right away.

I’m not even recognizing that I’m staring until I can't let my eyes leave, and I watch her shift on her toes a bit impatiently before she looks at the students behind us.

“Oh– no, no it's open.” My voice is quiet, as the professor is talking only up ahead. I'm trying to pay attention to both, trying my best to be respectful to the professor and the girl next to me who’s trying to find a seat even though it’s almost halfway through the lecture.

I move my backpack from the seat that she goes to pull out, my hands place the backpack under the desk near my feet instead. My eyes try not to drift, but I can't help but watch as she starts to unpack her belongings. There's a notebook, which is undeniably wet, and a small textbook which we use for the class.

Also, soaking. Dripping, practically.

“Fuck,” She curses, her hands going to run through the dripping pages before she lets her backpack fall to the floor in a huff.

I can tell that her stress level is at a high, all her belongings are soaking wet from what looks to be walking to class in the rain. I’m watching as she fumbles her way around her bag, trying her best to wipe some of the water off, trying to salvage what’s left.

But it’s obvious that most of her belongings have been ruined from the rain.

“Do you need paper?” I ask her, my quiet voice possibly too quiet as she starts to search through her bag without acknowledging me.

She didn’t hear me. I adjust in my seat a little bit, maybe seeing if she would look over from just my movements. She was distracted from trying to piece herself back together, and I could tell that her brain wasn’t in the place to hear anything else.

I clear my throat, turning a bit towards her again so maybe my voice would be heard. “Sorry, do you need some paper?”

Her head jerks towards me, almost a bit in shock like she was surprised I was talking to her at all. I watch as her face goes from an anxious state to a more softened one when she sees that she's also startled me in the process.

“Oh,” She nods a few times. “Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”

I opened my folder up, pulling a few blank pages out to hand to her. I see that her nails are chipped lilac when she goes to grab them.

The paper was gifted to me every year from my grandfather who was the one providing me the opportunity to go to college in the first place. Well, providing the funding for this adventure, at least.

So, in true Styles fashion, the small H.S. imprinted on the top with a simple logo of Saturn sat next to it. It was an official letterhead, and it was the only loose paper I had with me.

For a moment, I thought about forgetting the whole thing because in honesty, this was a bit embarrassing– but my brain and my actions didn't catch up as I handed her a few sheets and watched her eyes trace over it.

I can tell a hint of a smile when she sees the writing up on it at the top, her pen clicking in the process. In our lecture hall, there are over a hundred kids sitting and listening about chi-squares tests and the uses of categorical variables.

And I seemed to miss a bit of the conversations due to lack of concentration, a bit of distraction. That never really happened to me before, but this overwhelming scent of orange blossoms must have been trailing from her. An obvious distraction, but not one that I thought I would be caught up in.

I push my glasses on my face as I go to write down a specific note that was mentioned by the professor about possibly being on the test for tomorrow. I had caught that bit, thankfully.

The girl next to me sighs; the audible noise of annoyance is obvious when I look over at her. Her eyebrows are knit together as she pulls out her agenda, making more noise that just seems to be audible to me as we’re a few of the only ones in our row of seats.

When she notices that the notes of her calendar are also damp, she settles back in her chair for a minute.

“God fucking damnit.” She huffs. She takes a ribbon around her wrist. Pulling her hair back frantically into a taut ponytail, she holds her head in her hands, staring at the dampened notebook. “Could this day get worse? We have an exam tomorrow?”

I hear her words, and I'm not sure that she's talking to me or if she’s just speaking out into the universe. So, I stay quiet for a moment before I look up and feel that her head has turned to me. She was addressing me again, so I turn to see the amber eyes pleading at me as if I was the one who set the test schedules.

“I’m– uh, we really have a exam tomorrow?” She asks again; this time, I see she's looking at me with a worried glare.

“Yeah, uh,” I flip through a few papers to grab the printed-out syllabus to show her. I clear my throat, trying to stay quiet. “It's just going to be on basic inferential and standard deviation, I think. Maybe a bit of categorical stuff, we just learned that on Tuesday, but I'm going to confirm with the professor after class. Not hard stuff, so we should be good.”

I watch as she looks away from me for a moment, “I just…yeah, I don't know. Statistics and I aren't really friends, I guess. I don't understand it at all, and I already feel like I’m behind. It's only the third week– fuck.”

She sounds stressed, and I feel bad. I don't know what to say to her, because I'm still not entirely sure if she's talking to me or if she's taking to herself. I just know that I'm listening and I'm struggling between involving myself and leaving it be.

“Thank you all. Let me know if you have questions, I will see you tomorrow for the exam.”

The professor’s words made everyone start to stand up, grabbing their materials to leave. Her eyes look around the room in the same amount of panic.

“Shit– lecture is already over?” She says, checking her phone time. The way that her shoulders shrug down is so dismissive as she looks around at the kids starting to move up the aisles and towards the door.

“It’s only a fifty-minute lecture,” I tell her softly, trying to not make her any more upset. “Do you—” I take in a breath, wondering if I’m starting to intrude on her life and what she’s needing, but I still feel like I have the obligation to ask, “I mean, do you have some questions about the test tomorrow?”

I see her looking over some of the notes—some of the papers that weren’t completely drenched by the rain that I can tell that she raced through to be here. Her eyes fall down the messiness of the handwriting. I can tell that there were many times she messed up, or times she didn’t completely understand something and wrote in the margins. There’s ink everywhere, I don’t know how she stays organized or knows what she’s looking at.

The scratches over things are plentiful, and I relax in my seat rather than starting to get up like everyone else.

Maybe she doesn’t even know where to begin. It’s our first exam in this class, but I’m not worried about it in the slightest bit. I’ve passed through Calculus and Algebra, and since this is just a required class for graduation, I know that I don’t have to worry.

She starts to shake her head as she looks flustered, throwing her papers back into a folder with finality.

“I’m not trying to hold you up, you probably need to get somewhere—I'll just, um, I’m sorry.” She shakes her head, zipping up her backpack quickly.

She’s trying her best to get away, and I can see that she’s possibly a bit embarrassed by how quickly she came in. How she wasn’t just late to class, but she also didn’t seem to have any idea about what was going on in the first place.

It seemed that maybe she had something else on her mind, and I don’t thinks he can be faulted for that.

“No,” I shake my head, standing up with my backpack to mimic her. It hangs from my shoulder on one side, pulling it up a bit as I watch the lecture hall clearing out quite quickly. “No, I’m not in a hurry. I mean—”

“Just—thanks for the paper. That was nice of you.” The girl gives a soft smile, the softest smile that her face can seem to manage as I notice that she seems to be a bit upset. Her back turns to me and I’m now left standing there with no one else now.

I look around for a moment, thinking about what I was doing before my life was interpreted in a way. My life is always so ruled by the way that I wanted to live it—I was not easily distracted, my mind never really went to places that felt fuzzy or uneven.

But something about that interaction left me a bit speechless. I don’t even know her name, but something about that made my brain feel a little bit blurry.

There’s another person down with Professor Turvel, asking questions about the exam for tomorrow, I was certain. I knew that I needed to go down there—to make myself known and question the best ways to solve the problems, to understand what needed to be studied the most. Most people didn’t take these kinds of classes seriously, but anything that had to do with my education was serious to me.

I always asked questions—every time there was a exam, I made sure I had all the notes to understand concepts and what would exactly be on the exam so I could stay up and ensure that I knew the concepts like the back of my hand. Sometimes, the professors even assured me that I would know all the material, and not to worry so much. That didn’t keep me from asking.

As I watched the girl moving to leave the lecture hall, opening the door herself because someone hadn’t held it open for her. An instinct rose in me that was so foreign that I hadn’t understood it before.

I didn’t know why I decided to follow her instead. But my feet drug me up the steps and towards the door that would lead out into the halls, where kids were now scattered. Her backpack was purple, a dark purple with small white polka-dots. It should have been a bit easier to find, but I just held my stance at the door, turning my head to see if I could find her.

I’d know her if I saw her, she was distinctive, striking, even. Her dark hair and eyes shone against the warm tones of her skin. When she came in, it was a curly mess—dark curls, practical ringlets.

I held onto the shoulder strap of my bag, watching as kids were moving out of the corridors to head out to their next classes and outside. It seemed that she must’ve slipped out, gotten away from me when I had been looking for her.

Letting out a sigh, I lick over my lips softly. My shoulders let go—I try to push the thoughts out of my mind. Instead, it was time for me to start to prepare for my next class of the day. I had a physics class just upstairs, but I would show up prematurely to prepare and write all my calculations on the board for the lab portion of it.

It was best to be early so I could collaborate with fellow students, and it was even encouraged to allow for that time. I pull my backpack fully onto my back, both straps on my shoulders as I start to head towards the stairs to the lecture halls that were situated upstairs. They were smaller, for the specified classes.

I pulled my backpack around my middle for a moment to grab the headphones that I had placed in the small pocket in the front for my short walk. When I go to insert the headphones into my ears, I do a double take because I’m not sure that I believe my eyes as they seem to possibly trick me.

Over by the large doors. Purple with white polka-dots. The phone against her ear is being held up unwillingly; she doesn’t look like she’s invested in the conversation, but mostly upset by it.

I watch as she shakes her head, her mouth stern as she speaks into the receiver. Instantly, she takes the phone away and shakes her head before placing her thumb to end the call.

I couldn’t make out what she’s saying because we’re still too far apart. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m staring, or that I’m listening in at all. My feet guide me towards the general area, as the door to the stairs is just around the corner from where she’s standing.

She’s standing there with her arms crossed, looking out of the door as if she’s waiting for someone. It looks a bit impatient; she’s just as upset as she was back in the lecture hall, and maybe now even more so.

I don’t know what it means, but it seems that she’s a bit off and I just can’t let it go. I don’t know what’s gotten into me this morning, but my feet seem to only… pull me closer. I’d have to debate Newton’s laws of gravitational pull, because the Earth’s axis seemed to be tilting just a bit.

Wherever she seemed to be is where gravity was pulling. And nothing about that made sense in the logical world, so my brain was a bit scattered about how that could have even been a possibility.

In an anxious turn of my shoe, I head towards her. I pivot from walking towards the steps and decide that a soft approach towards her is an option that I’m willing to take.

“Um, I’m sorry—I’m not trying to interrupt,” I approached her, softly. As one would a wounded animal, like she might get scared if I spoke loud enough. Her head turns towards me, her fingers move up against her cheek as she tries to look more pulled together, like she was unraveling quickly.

I notice that there’s a tear stain on her cheek, but she did her best to clear it away. Something about that doesn’t sit right with me and I clear my throat as I try to not embarrass her by noticing.

When she doesn’t speak, I just shake my head a little, trying to make sense of what’s come over me.

“I—I mean, are you okay? You,” I push my glasses up on my nose, “Are you waiting for someone?"

Crossing her arms over her chest, she takes in a deep breath. I watch the sleekness of her hair back in the ponytail cross over her shoulder when she stares at the ground.

I’ve always been partial to understanding when people were upset. I didn’t know what it was. My mum always told me I was just sensitive, my sister telling me that I probably watched too much Bambi as a kid.

Something about watching someone suffer endlessly, without another word, hit home. I didn’t want her to feel like she was alone, if she didn’t want to be. That was the difference—I wanted to be alone most of the time, so I didn’t mind. But that didn’t mean that she did. Maybe she wasn’t—maybe I was overstepping. As I overthought it, I shifted on my feet as she stood in a solitude of silence from the corridors of the university filtering out for the next sessions.

But it just felt like my heart was understanding right now.

“I’ve just had a... difficult morning, really,” She starts, shrugging. The problems are brushing off her shoulders when she looks up at me once again. I see that the sadness reigns in her eyes, but it’s being shielded by the layers of needing to show that everything was fine. “I’m okay. Seriously. I know this probably looks insane but trust me. I’m fine.”

There wasn’t anything I could do but trust that she was. I didn’t know her—I didn’t even know her name. I didn’t know anything else about her, and while I could notice that there were still tears welled up in her eyes, the smile had been the greatest mask of it all.

I nod at her, taking the moment to try to understand if that’s the cue to leave. When she starts to turn around just a bit, I settle with the idea that the conversation has ended. It’s ended, and it’s time for me to move back towards the stairs.

My brain recomputes that I have physics in about twenty minutes, and I’m going to go upstairs to dispute Hawking’s radiation theory of black holes. That’s where the gravitational pull is taking me next—it has to be.

As I go to place the earbud back into my ear, making a few steps towards the door that held the stairs, I hear the voice again.

“Hey,” Her voice rings out just a bit, as we’re now the only two in the corridor of the hallways. I turn my head back, our eyes reconnecting. Her eyes blink a few times as she lets out a sigh, which almost makes her look like she could break down at any moment, but I hold my breath. It looks like she had been holding in that breath for a while, so her shoulders drop to meet mine. “Do you—what if I did have questions about the exam tomorrow?”

I don’t know if words come out of my mouth in an answer, so I’m trying to compute what she said. Unfortunately, I think that she notices so she presses on.

“Like, could you help me study?” She asks, pressing on. “You said it was easy—I just, I need some extra help because I—I just have a lot going on.”

I pause in my tracks, not anticipating her questions or flat-out asking for my help.

“Oh.” I swallow dryly, as she stares at me with the slightest bit of eagerness for my answer I hadn’t noticed that in her eyes before, and I’m not sure that I’m used to it. I’m not sure that I’m prepared for how… she looks with hope coating her eyes. “Oh—yeah, I mean, I’ll be in the library tonight around six if you want to, like if you want to come study or something.” I shrug, “I can help you.”

I watch as a hint of a smile starts to turn at the edges of her lips. She holds the crossing on her arms over her chest tightly, as if to feel an odd sense of comfort from it.

“Can I meet you there tonight, then? You won’t mind?” She asks, her voice a bit unsure. It’s like I’d say no, even though I was the one who offered in the first place.

I’m still taken aback by the response of her wanting to meet me there at all. Thursday nights usually meant that the library was the quietest day in the week. Most people went out on Thursday’s around here to start their weekend—it was apparently the best bar deals, but I hadn’t taken advantage of that.

It was the best day to be in the library, just because of that.

“Yes. Yeah, of course, you can—” I pause for a moment, blinking a few times as I stick my hand out to her recognizing how I hadn’t even introduced myself to her yet, “Sorry—I’m Harry.”

Her eyes widen just a bit at my words before she starts to giggle a bit, her hand fitting into mine. My molars bite the inside of my cheek just at the grip, the softness of her hand in my palm has me distracted for a moment.

“Stella.”

Stella.

Stella. Stella. Stella. Stella.

“Star.” I say, a bit under my breath. She tilts her head a little bit at my whisper before I shake my head with a little bit of a laugh. I feel embarrassed that I spoke out loud and she heard, so I just try to explain the thought process with a simple shrug.

“It’s, your name, it’s ‘star’ in Latin,” I pull on the strap of my bag before I’m biting on my lip a little bit, “It’s a nice name.”

I watch as Stella’s face has started to turn into more of an arraigned softness; her features not as harsh, her brow isn’t knit.

“Sorry, I don’t know the origin of Harry.” Her chuckle is playful as she shakes her head.

“It, uh,” I rub the back of my neck as I feel an odd hint of embarrassment play on my cheeks, “Means ‘home’. Or something like that.”

As I watch her face, I study it as best as I can without seemingly staring, I watch her eyes move between mine.

I look away when I notice that she hasn’t—she’s still looking for a moment longer. I clear my throat to try to break up the instant staring game that we’ve started. I check my phone in an awkward angle to get out of the moment that has seemingly turned quiet, when I recognize how long I’ve been standing here.

9:26.

“Shoot,” I say quickly, “I have class in a few minutes. I’ll—”

She cuts me off as I adjust my bag on my shoulder, hoisting it up.

“Oh, fuck—I’m going to be late.” She checks her own phone to confirm the time for herself before the smile catches on her face, “I’ll see you tonight, Harry.” Stella confirms, nodding a few times.

Before I know it, I watch as she walks behind me and towards the other door on the other side of the hallway. I didn’t even get a chance to ask for her phone number—knowing I’d stumble my way through that sentence.

Not really a sentence I’ve ever really asked casually before.

It was odd—that feeling in my brain. The feeling of blurriness, almost like nothing had been in there at all. It was like every thought I’d had was placed into a certain box now, unable to think of anything else except for the way that Stella’s eyes were merely amber and bronze all at the same time.

I shook my head, thinking that the physical movement may take my attention back to what I was supposed to keep my eye on. I put my headphones back in, moving towards the stairs as I climb them quickly.

I wouldn’t have enough time to write all my worked equations on the board. But, for the first time in my entire life, there was a feeling of ease that happened to replace the anxious voices that mirrored in my head. There was confusion; one unexplained.

Having to be smart enough.

Having to be good enough.

Having to be enough.

Logically, this didn’t make sense—this feeling of satisfaction that rested in my chest and head. It was like an overcome sense of relief.

Maybe Hawking had a theory to explain this feeling that had completely dismissed my thoughts and worries— it had complete trampled it, made me unaware of the worry that I may be late to class, or that I may not be prepared. Maybe it had already been explained and logic had nothing to do with it.

I shook my head at the thought, entering the familiarity of the physics lab. The third table to the right was where I placed all my belongings in the same routine that I had made for weeks.

This time, just another atom of a thought processes through my brain and into my cerebrum—allowing the thoughts to muster and to sit as I thought about what I would be doing for the next eight hours.

The library never made me feel lonely, and for once, I wouldn’t be alone.

And today, I was okay with that.

________________

THANK YOU FOR READING THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THIS <3 please please please let me know what you think!!! I'm excited to share this with a new audience, so please be nice!!

[my-castles-crumbling]

Warmth- Jegulus holiday fluff!

Hi guys! You voted on a holiday present and this is what you chose! It's hogwarts-age jegulus, AU-no Voldemort, background wolfstar holiday fluff! Enjoy!

Regulus always associated the holidays with the cold.

A cold house. A cold bed. The coldness of his family.

And he was so used to the way his family did things.

It started with planning. So much planning. Making sure everything, every minute detail, was perfect. That the menu was impeccable. The decor, superb. The outfits, tailored and luxurious.

Regulus and Sirius were expected to be flawless representations of their House and ‘Superior Bloodline.’ Put-together and polite; seen, not heard.

The pressure was more than intense.

And the actual party?

So many people. So many high standards.

The chit-chat was suffocating, and Regulus always dreaded it.

There was nothing personal about the holidays. No time for family. Only networking. Putting on a show. Making sure their family was constantly on top.

It was cold.

Regulus spent the entire day feeling lonely.

So, when Regulus first agreed to spend the holidays at the Potters’ he wasn’t sure how to feel. He knew, of course, that the Potters were pureblood. Well-off. They probably had fancy parties, too.

“What shall I pack?” he asked his boyfriend one day while they were studying, close to break, realizing his old dress robes might not fit any more. Did the Potters expect him to wear his custom-made twelve-piece robes, or would some of his more comfortable three-piece outfits suffice?

“Pack?” James asked, looking a bit distracted. He was currently trying to figure out what looked like a botched Potions essay, and Regulus knew he would have to take pity on him and help soon. “I mean, it’s a bit cold. Make sure to pack some extra jumpers.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, endeared by the taller boy’s oliviousness. “I meant for the party.”

“Party?” James asked, looking quite shocked. “We’re going to a party?”

Now his patience was wearing a bit thin. “On Christmas, James. Won’t your family have a party?”

James laughed out loud at that. “I mean, it’ll be my mum, dad, Sirius, Remus, and both of us. Is that what you mean?”

Regulus thought about that. “So…no party?”

“No,” James answered, looking a bit concerned. “Is that alright? I know your family-”

“It’s perfect,” Regulus nodded, quickly pulling James’s mess of an essay toward himself. “This is not.”

-

As soon as the boys arrived in the bright, warm kitchen of the Potter Manor, a woman swept Regulus into a hug so quickly he almost yelped with surprise.

“Regulus. It’s wonderful to meet you,” the woman hugging him said warmly.

“Don’t suffocate him, mum,” James admonished, throwing Regulus a grin as he hugged what could only be his father.

But Regulus, who normally hated being touched, especially by those he didn’t know, found himself melting into the embrace. He realized almost instantly where James got it from- his safe, kind, accepting persona. His warmth.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. and Mr. Potter,” Regulus stammered as Euphemia released him. “Thank you for inviting me to your home.”

“Effie and Monty,” Monty replied easily. “And how could we not? James talks so much about you, you’re practically family already."

James turned bright red at this, and Regulus smirked a bit. Sirius made a gagging noise from behind them.

“As if you don’t talk just as much about Remus,” Effie chided him, pulling him into a hug as well.

“Mum! I’m supposed to be the favorite!” Sirius pouted, making Effie grin.

“I have no favorites. Though if we’re going by number of times I’ve gotten letters of complaint from Minerva McGonagall, then Regulus is currently the favorite,” Effie retorted, making Regulus turn pink.

Even though both Sirius and James protested more about that, it was clear that all the comments were in good fun. They were laughing. Smiling. Enjoying each other’s company.

He’d never experienced family like this before. It was strange. The warmth.

-

Regulus quickly figured out that he liked Potter Manor almost as much as he liked Hogwarts.

He, James, Sirius, and Remus (when he arrived a few days later) spent their days flying, lazing around, going into the Muggle town nearby and exploring. He knew that Monty was a Potioneer, but he was thrilled to find that once he tentatively asked the older man about his work, Monty was eager to show him everything he was working on. He even let Regulus help.

He also found a piano, tucked away in a lonely room on the fourth floor, and spent hours at a time just playing, reveling in being able to just be, while James, Sirius, and Remus caused chaos Merlin-knew-where.

He felt safe. Wanted. This, he realized, was how family was supposed to feel.

-

He’d believed James, of course, when he’d said there wouldn’t be a party. But he was still unsurprised, somehow, when on Christmas morning, he was awoken at dawn by someone shaking him awake. Good thing he packed something presentable.

“Happy Christmas, Reg!” James whispered into his ear.

“Mmmpfh,” Regulus mumbled into his pillow. “Thought you said there wasn’t a party?”

“What? No, I…I have something to show you. Will you come with me?” James asked, looking a bit nervous.

“Alright.”

It was early, and cold. And Regulus was thankful, really, that he’d listened to James and packed multiple jumpers because he pulled two over his head, blearily following the taller boy out of his room.

“Sorry it’s so early. It’s just…I’ve been trying to get you alone for days and I figured if I try before Sirius is awake, I’d have more of a chance,” James grinned a bit sheepishly.

Regulus snorted. Sirius had been quite the nuisance over the past few days. Every time James and Regulus had had two minutes alone, he just appeared. “He’s your best friend, Potter.”

James chuckled, leading Regulus to the front door.

“Outside?” Regulus blanched. He might have two jumpers on, but he wasn’t dressed for the snowstorm currently raging outside.

“Trust me?” James asked, levelling a challenging look at Regulus.

And fuck James Potter, because he knew that the answer to that question was yes.

“Alright,” Regulus murmured, shivering as James rapped his wand sharply on Regulus’s head. A feeling of warmth slowly seeped through Regulus’s very veins, like he’d stepped into a hot shower.

“C’mon,” James said, grabbing his hand and guiding him into the storm.

-

They walked for a few minutes, hand-in-hand, through the raging snow. Even as the storm persisted, however, Regulus could only feel warmth. No wind, no cold. Just the comfortable heat of James’s spell and their intertwined hands.

It was loud, however. And it was hard to see. “James, where the hell-?” Regulus yelled, feeling a bit nervous.

“Not much farther now! It’s just here!” James called to him, dragging him a few more feet before stopping.

Then, James pulled out his wand again and tapped it on seemingly nothing, before pulling Regulus a few more feet forward.

Regulus was thoroughly confused for a moment, until-

Quiet.

They seemed to be in a bubble. Almost a reverse-snow globe. Their little space on the ground, about ten feet in diameter, was quiet. Warm. Free of snow. But outside, the snow still fell and the wind whipped it around.

It was strangely beautiful. Haunting but safe.

“Just here,” James said softly, guiding him to a blanket on the ground.

Shocked, Regulus lay on the blanket, allowing James to pull him close, as they looked up and watched the snowstorm surrounding them.

“James, this is-”

“We used to do this all the time when I was a kid,” James explained, circling his thumb on Regulus's back soothingly. “On Christmas, especially. If it snowed, my dad would come out and set this up. And we’d just sit out here and watch. Be together.”

Regulus moved a bit closer to James, feeling so incredibly content. “This is what your family does on Christmas?”

He felt James shrug next to him. “It’s nice to just…escape sometimes, you know? And I just wanted to be with you.”

Regulus felt tears prickle his eyes as he took that in. It was somehow precious, to be shown this tradition. To be allowed this window into James’s life. To be included and wanted and loved.

And it was so warm, here.

Here, in the snow. Here, in James’s arms.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing James softly.

And he lost himself in the warmth of the kiss.

Hope you guys liked it! Please leave comments and kudos, I need them more than I need a nap (a lot!)

[ravencincaide]

This little thing

Summary: Not every woman wants their boyfriend to buy them everything they lay their eyes on. It was  just excessive. Unfortunately for you, that’s something that Chuuya still struggles with. Or the time Chuuya got you one meaningful gift instead of 50 just-because ones. 

Pairing: Reader x Chuuya Nakahara

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 11: Shopping

Hope you enjoy~ ______________________________________________________________

“ Chuu, are you really getting all those felted bunnies for yourself?” 

You did little to hide your teasing smile as you stared at your boyfriend's confused expression, his arms filled to the brim with at least fifty handmade animals in all shapes, colours and sizes. All of them were soft; either knitted, crochet or felted and all with exquisite details. Hearing your comment he looked down at his arms, seeming to just realize he may have overdone it slightly. Turning his head left and then right, he quickly came to the realization that there was little place in the small shed for him to place them down. It wasn’t long until the 50 or so animals were levitating in the air between you. 

“ So pass on the bunnies” Chuuya agreed, flickering his eyes towards the shelf furthest away where he took them from. All twenty of them returned to the shelf in neat little lines. You watched with an amazed expression on your face, always fascinated by his ability whenever he used it. Which was rare around you. “ Sweetheart?” 

You closed your mouth and turned away from the bunnies and back to your boyfriend and the remaining thirty animals levitating around him. Not a single duplicate, each one slightly different than the next, in one way or another one. “ Why so many Chuu?” You asked as you tilted your head to the side. 

Chuuya watched your expression carefully before raising his hand and rested it on your cheek. The leather of his glove felt cool on your skin, the touch loving. Even if you’d wish he took those damned things off when around you. “ Because you like this sort of thing” 

You blinked in confusion for a moment, trying to figure out where he got that idea from, before it finally clicked. “ Do you mean the felted fox I have in my bookshelf? The one my mum made for me before I moved out?” 

“ It looked like it could use a few friends” was all he said, his eyes looking at you with such adoration you could have sworn you hung the moon. Or something. But you could see past that loving expression and down to the emotion which triggered this behavior of excessively buying you anything you could remotely like, let alone want or need. Each date would end with your hands full of different gift bags and presents as if you had just gone Christmas shopping for your entire family instead of spending a few hours together. So now when you were actually out to look around the autumn market with intentions to buy some random cute or practical autumn items you were terrified of how many more things your sweet yet excessive boyfriend would bestow upon you. 

“ Love” you called and pressed a hand against his cheek feeling him instantly lean into the touch“ You don’t need to buy me anything, you don’t need to bribe me with gifts and trinkets to keep me. I’m gonna remain your girlfriend even if you get me nothing. So please- no excessive shopping.” You plead hoping you could get through to him. Reluctantly three more animals returned to their shelves. 

Only 27 more to go. 

“ It shouldn’t be a problem for me to buy things for my girlfriend.” He pressed a quick peck to your lips, clearly deciding that this would be the end of this conversation. You, however, were not planning to give up until all the animals returned to their rightful place. 

“ Chuu we talked about this” you mumbled, letting your hand drop away from his cheek and pressing your fingers against your forehead, above the bridge of your nose. You were fighting off the oncoming headache “ You know that when you just pile on things on me like this it makes me feel inherently guilty and indebted to you. I know it’s not what you’re after- I honestly do- but it also makes it harder for me to say no to you when I really should.” 

“ You never need to feel that way,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “ You know I’d never ask for anything that you don’t want or aren’t ready for.” 

You looked up at him as he moved your fingers away from your forehead and clasped them tightly in his hand. His lips were quick to replace them, the gentle touch beginning to ease the frown.  “ Chuu please” you begged “ We can compromise on something somewhere else okay? I really don’t want anything from here and if you keep buying me things I show a slight interest in I’ll not have enough space for the truly precious gifts you get me.”  

You watched him hesitating, the gears in his head turning as he fought back the argument that ‘you could just move in with him’ or he could ‘buy you a bigger place or storage space’. Thankfully even Chuuya realized that your relationship was not at that point, yet. “ Fine” he muttered, pulling back and pushing his hat over his eyes as the remaining animals returned to their shelf.  

“ Thank you Chuu” You gave him a peck on the lips, trying to ignore how pouty he looked. Like the thought of not gifting you the entire store physically hurt him “ Now that we’ve checked this place out, wanna head towards the fall market stalls? I heard the farmers outdid themselves this year with fall-themed treats and pastries!” 

Before Chuuya replied, you grabbed his hand and turned around, starting to head for the door. 

Just then something off to the side, hanging on the wall, partially obscured by numerous knitted hats and gloves, caught your eye. It was a hanger full of white hand-knitted floor-length scarf that resembled more a small blanket than something practical. It was full of intricate designs in various shades of white. From this distance you couldn’t fully tell what the designs were, but you were certain they were just as detailed as the rest of the items in the shop- if not more. You were captivated by the way it shimmered from a distance; the shift of silver, icy and blue colours depending on how the light hit it. But most importantly, it looked soft and warm, like a hug that would protect its wearer against even the coldest and most bone chilling Japanese winter days. It was clearly a handmade thing- a unique one of kind that you had never before seen. And you were certain you’d never see a second of its kind again. God you wanted to look at it closer, run your fingers over the material to see if it was as soft as it looked. 

You bit your lip in thought. 

Then deciding that it would make you too much of a hypocrite if you were to go and buy the first thing your eyes lingered on after you just scolded Chuuya for doing just that. So you turned your back on it and headed outside the small store pulling your boyfriend behind you. 

You regretted your choice almost the second you step outside; the autumn sun was quick to set while you were browsing inside the warm stall, letting the chilly autumn night air set in. The wet coldness seemed to crawl past your clothes and chill you to your core despite the five layers you were wearing. A scarf would have been nice, you mused to yourself bitterly.

Still proud and stubborn however, you refused to turn around and get it. Instead you took a look around the sea of people before picking a direction at random. It wasn’t long until you and Chuuya were walking side by side, admiring the handiwork:, from hand carved wooden toys and games to weaved socks and sweaters. It didn’t take long until you arrived at the part of the market which sold food; jams, cheeses and meats, fall vegetables and even pumpkins together with a pumpkin carving contest. 

“ Sweetheart shall we get some hot chocolate?” You turned to look at your boyfriend who nodded in the direction of a semi-long line. All it took was another blow of the chilly wind for you to agree. Indeed you nodded, hot chocolate sounded like a splendid idea to warm up. Almost too eager you went to the queue wondering what sorts of flavors they had to offer.  You stood ahead of Chuuya in line, with your boyfriend hugging you from behind, head resting on your shoulder, eyes closed. Gently you moved from one foot to another, a soft rocking motion that kept you warmer and seemed to make your boyfriend sleepier. 

You hated to admit it but if it got any colder you’d probably have to call it a day early, independently of how much more of this market you got to see. The thought made a wave of disappointment wash over you, this was one of the few together-activities that you were really looking forward to and wouldn't get to re-experience until next year!

“ Sweetheart, can you get me the dark one with marshmallows?” Chuuya asked after five minutes of waiting, breaking your trail of thought. 

You tilted your head to the side in confusion “ Sure, you going somewhere?” 

“ Just give me a moment” Chuuya pressed a kiss to your neck, his cold nose making you shiver, before he disappeared into the masses, somehow perfectly blending in despite how lightly dressed he was, on top of wearing his hat and black coat which swayed behind him with each step. Although his clothes were stunning on him, they did make him stand out among the masses of warm coats and gloves. You looked after him before shaking your head and turning back to count the number of heads that were left before it was your turn. Concluding it was ‘many’ you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself missing Chuuya’s embrace more than ever. 

It took you another ten minutes until you got hot chocolate for you both. Once you got the two large cups overflowing with goonesses you began facing the dilemma of where you’d find Chuuya. Looking left, then right you made your way towards a small empty table to the side of the stall and set your mugs down  there. Before you could reach for your phone, a familiar arm wrapped around your waist, pressing you closely to his chest. “ Hmm smells good. Wait long sweetheart?” 

“ Not at all” You smiled as he nuzzled into you before moving back from you. The action confused you: you turned your body to face him, your back leaned against the table momentarily forgetting about the chocolate and the coldness.

“ Here Y/N” Chuuya stated as he held up the paperbag towards you, looking to the side. His face looked flushed, something between embarrassed and guilty, with a redness that not even the chilly autumn wind could achieve. 

You looked skeptic for a moment before carefully taking the bag from him. You watched his hand drop to his side and he still wasn’t looking at you, perhaps because he was expecting that you’d scold him for it. In fact you could see him sigh heavily, clenching and unclenching his fist in nervousness. 

You turned your attention away from Chuuya and towards the white wrapping tissue which kept the gift inside obscured. With careful fingers you moved the paper aside before you gasped. Inside was the fluffy white scarf, looking even more stunning than it did on the hanger. 

“ Ohh Chuuya-baby you shouldn’t have” you mumbled in shock trailing your fingers carefully over the hand embroidered design of a shimmering- glittering snowflake. The material was much softer than you could have imagined. “ It must have been so expensive.” 

“ Do you like it?” he asked carefully, still cautious in case he had somehow offended you. 

“ I love it” you looked up at him with a huge smile on your face. “ This is the best and most thoughtful gift you’ve ever given me, thank you so so soooo much Chuu!” 

He chuckled at your excitement before reaching for the bag, intending to help you wrap yourself up in it. As he draped the warm material over your shoulders you grabbed the front of his jacket and crashed your lips together in a long, grateful kiss. It took him less than a second to reciprocate, his lips moving against yours. The kiss was deep yet sweet and gentle, neither rushed nor sexy-passionate. Still it was a kiss you’d remember for a long time. 

After all, there was just something magical about kissing Chuuya in the middle of the autumn market, surrounded by people, lights and under the warmths of the most thoughtful and caring gift your boyfriend had ever gifted you. Even if with each kiss the hot chocolate behind you grew colder and colder.. 

[sunshine-theseus]

Put Your Head On My Shoulder | Jessie Fleming x Reader

Words: 4k Summary: you and jessie go through many ups and downs but things work out in the end Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of depression and taking medication for it, covid didn’t happen, pretending the game vs real madrid was at Stamford bridge not in Spain

Jessie Fleming and I met at the 2015 world cup, both freshly 17 and competing in our first big tournament. Despite the fact we didn’t play each other, I found myself stumbling into her on the sidelines of Canada’s game against The Netherlands. Words were exchanged but we didn’t see each other again until the next year.

We knew we were both on athletic scholarships for the Bruins at UCLA and promised to try and meet outside of training to keep in contact without sport. It was surprising however, when my box was knocked out of my hands as I crashed into the young Canadian, both of us trying to enter the same room. She was clearly struggling to see over her own stuff, stumbling over words as her cheeks flush a very familiar red, trying to apologise.

“J, if you say sorry one more time I’m asking for a new roommate. Which I had no idea we were until now.” I crouch to pick up my books and writing equipment that was in my box as Jessie tries to manoeuvre to her decided side of the room.

I give up and rush to help her when she stumbles over her own foot and nearly goes flying.

“Jessie! You’re going to break something before the season even starts Jesus Christ be careful!” my hands gripped her waist tightly to stop her from tilting forward, then I grab the top box so she can actually see. The same red blush covers her cheeks.

“Sorry, my mum just insisted I try to take all my stuff in as little trips as possible, which is proving to be difficult. I’m sorry about your books.” With her stuff firmly on the ground she finally looks as me.

“They put the Australian and the Canadian in the same room knowing we just basically kicked you out of the Olympics?”

“You did not!” the joke was rare coming from her. She was funny and kind but still rather serious and shy, preferring studying statistics and players over team bonding or spending time with people after a game.

I understood that, I felt that, and that’s how we worked. Us against the world. We trusted our team and confided in them, but we’d really only want each other in times of need. Obviously there were people like Sam or Christine, who were like our big sisters for our respective national teams, but Jessie and I were just drawn to each other.

-

After UCLA came Chelsea. Both of us were about to start our last year of uni when her offer came through, far before mine.

By this point we’d been inseparable for four years, so I worried we’d be split; her making the move to England and me stuck in our dorm. Except it’d be much emptier and lonely, or filled with some stranger’s things.

And it was just like that. Time zones caused issues with keeping in contact. Eventually that became other things. Study, because she still had to finish her course. Team bonding, practice. What would be a call once a day became once a week until it filtered out, and her texts would be answered in seconds while mine sat in wait for whenever she decided she was free.

My offer came in the January transfer window. Emma had been in contact with me for a couple months, clearly trying to convince me, and 6 months ago I wouldn’t have even thought about it. But when I stare at the ‘merry Christmas’ and ‘I got the offer’ messages left unread and think about seeing the girl I thought would never leave me, I take the time offered.

And a week later I find myself sliding into Sam’s spare room groaning into the pillow as she fusses over the Australian snacks I did manage to get through customs.

“What’s got you in a mood chickadee?” I feel the bed dip beside me and her hand rubs my back.

“J.” the older Australian lets out a hum before taking a moment to reply.

“She talks about you all the time. About how much she misses you and everything you got up to at uni. All of which I already know because I hear it every camp.” I can feel the joking eye roll despite not seeing it.

“She talks about me but doesn’t talk to me. That means nothing. And I know she’s busy but so was I. Just because I was captaining a university team instead a stupid professional team doesn’t mean I wasn’t busy or doing something important! And I still kept in contact!” by now I’ve rolled over onto my back and started fiddling with Sam’s tattooed fingers, trying to distract myself from the pit of loneliness and despair that’s been slowly eating my stomach.

I dare not mention to anyone the decline in my mental health or the required psychology sessions Emma was going to provide for me once every few weeks. Everyone knew I was sad and that’s all they needed to know. But once upon a time, Jessie would have known everything, holding my hand tightly the whole way.

“You should sleep, big first day tomorrow. I’ll make you breakfast. Alarm-”

“8:30, I know. Every day, same time. Thank you Sam, really.” She smiles and pats my head before leaving.

-

To say my first day didn’t go well would be somewhat of an understatement. At exactly 8:30 my alarm went off. At 8:32, the pill bottle rattling at the bottom of my bag was fished out and 1 was being washed down by water. At 8:43, Sam was banging on my door calling for breakfast and I was rushing to make sure the pill bottle was hidden after changing. No one needs to know I’m taking anti-depressants, including Sam.

When we pulled into Cobham, I started to feel sick, and I told Sam just that.

“I’ll catch a train home.”

“It’s just nerves, you’ll be fine.”

“No-”

“You stay until at least lunch time, then we’ll see.” A pointed finger is shoved into my face, but I begin to stroll alongside her anyway.

I do almost book it for the nearest train station as soon as I enter the locker room. Sitting in the cubby next to mine, tying her shoelaces, is Jessie Fleming. During the chaos of the move and my first day, I manage to forget the way our numbers are right beside each other.

“You’ll be okay. You don’t even have to talk to her.” Sam whispers as she makes her way to her own cubby, greeting people on her way through.

So I try. Placing my bag in the nook and beginning to change into my training kit without the Canadian even looking up. It’s when I place down the same styled Tiempo Legend 8s I’ve been wearing since they released, that I can see her head turn from the corner of my eye. I don’t acknowledge it, continuing to slide the boots onto my feet and tie them up. But that doesn’t stop her.

“Oh my god! Hey!” there’s a lightness in her voice that I used to be so familiar with and it makes my heart clench.

I take a moment before deciding replying would be too rude for my liking.

“Hi.” Short and simple, and quite blunt.

“I didn’t know you signed, or that you even got the offe-” forget being nice.

“You would’ve known if you bothered to keep in contact with me.” With that I slide out of my seat beside her and make my way to Sam.

-

It gets worse when Emma splits us into pairs for dribbling drills, and she slides me toward Jessie.

“Of course.” I sigh but accept my fate as a ball rolls our way.

“What’s wrong?” a phrase that, coming from her mouth, used to have me spilling every small emotion I was feeling.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Come on Beans, tell me.” The nickname had been created in our first year of university. She learnt I loved green beans and I’m rather tall, so the name fit. But she didn’t feel like the same person who I let make the funny name.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

“What? Because I moved?”

“No! You left for Chelsea and I was happy for you, we had a plan to stay in contact until I followed along to somewhere in England. But you stopped trying. You stopped answering. You left me alone when I needed you the most. I would’ve done anything for you to have the career you deserved but you got it, without me. I just thought I’d still have my best friend when it happened.”

To say that training was tense from then on wasn’t a stretch. Emma never paired us up and any time one of us entered the locker room, everyone else would wait in silence for a burst similar to the one on the pitch. It never came.

It was after my first session with the psychologist that things began to change.

Because the psych was only here for me, Emma was kind to lend her office to us for the 50 minutes while she did other work around the grounds. I assume the girls were grateful to escape the tension for the moment.

“Same time, 2 weeks from now! It’s good you’re making progress!” The rather lovely lady shouts just as I’m closing the door, waving and smiling in thanks.

But as I turn around, I nearly bump into a small figure. A rather familiar one at that. Jessie begins to fall backwards but I grip her waist, holding her in place. It’s a familiar scenario, the feeling of my hands on her waist and her burning red cheeks are something I struggled to ever forget.

“T-thanks” her cheeks burn that same red.

“No worries.” I mumble in reply as I remove my hands, taking a step back.

“Who were you talking to? That didn’t sound like Emma. And what are you making progress on?” the questions don’t come rapidly but I still struggle to process them. Jessie’s smart, she can put two and two together, so I should tell her. But what if she laughs? There was a time where the thought wouldn’t have even crossed my mind, she’s not that type of girl. But things change.

“I- I-” Jessie places a gentle hand on my arm and nods, confirming it’s okay to take my time, but please continue. I sigh.

“She’s a psychologist.”

“A sport psychologist?”

“Well yes and no. I… I’ve been diagnosed with depression, and Emma wants me to have someone professional to talk to.” Her grip tightens but I know it’s in concern.

“When- when did you…”

“A couple months ago. Don’t worry, it wasn’t just because of you, a lot of things happened.”

“But it was partially because of me. I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been. You’ve always been there for me and I got here and treated you like shit. Discarded you like you were nothing. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” tears well up in her whisky brown eyes, but I smile.

“J, if you say sorry one more time, I’m asking for a new roommate for the away match against Man City. Which I did know we are… for once.”

“You can’t just forgive me.”

“I’m not, it’ll take time, but I want my best friend back. Sprout.” Jessie charges forward and wraps her arms around my waist.

“I’d do anything.” Her voice is muffled as her head presses into my chest, but I smile.

~~~~~

Things changed once again a few months after that. The 2020 Olympics had been delayed due to natural disasters, but we still found ourselves milling around the Olympic village together in our very little spare time. I also found myself admiring her for every little thing, every detail. Eventually I had to admit to myself that I’d developed a crush on the girl.

“What’s going on in that busy brain of yours?” Jessie had been by my side every step of the way with my mental health after she found out, and this question wasn’t uncommon, but the answer would be.

“I know this could ruin things, I’m very aware of that, but I have to tell you now otherwise I don’t think I’ll ever have the courage to.” Gaging her reaction was difficult, Jessie was a very stoic person.

“I-, I’ve found myself growing feelings for you. Feelings that surpass best friends, or how I feel when you show up for me. I like you, a lot. And I need you to know that. Standing in the middle of a pathway surrounded by half naked athletes in Olympic Village, I like you.” I look her in the eyes. Those burnt umber eyes, so warm and comforting, that always draw me in.

“I really like you too. Everything about you. I want to care for you and be there when you need me. I want to wake up in your arms and be able to admire every feature as the sun beams down on you like the miracle you are. I would even go as far as saying I desperately want to be your girlfriend.” I barely let Jessie finish what she’s saying before I lean down, a significant way, and kiss her with everything in me.

~~~~~

2 and a half years later and Jessie hasn’t left my side since. Most of our quarrels are just that, silly fights that are solved by the end of the night. We moved in together after 3 months and were rarely been seen apart.

That included tough games.

Real Madrid was our first game of the Champion’s League season, and we knew it was going to be hard. They were physical most importantly, so we had to play to that. We knew that when we were up 2-1 in the 78th minute.

“Jessie Fleming challenges Athenea Del Castillo, barley missing the ball and clipping Athenea on the foot! Oh, and the ref is calling for a penalty. I’m certain first contact was outside the box.” Is what would be heard by anyone watching the match through a screen, but you didn’t need a commentator to know the ref made an unfair call.

The contact was clearly outside the box and yet we’re forced to line up and watch Olga Carmona take the wrongly rewarded shot, me grasping Jessie’s hand in my own as a way to reassure her.

It’s obvious the referees are against us when Niamh makes a shot on goal, the ball sliding in, but it’s claimed offside. Something to do with Sam supposedly messing with the defence, another false claim. There’s nothing we can do when the final whistle blows and we’re tied, all of us dropping to the ground in exhaustion and disappointment.

After shaking hands with the Madrid players and briefly talking with Hayley to catch up and talk about things that happened between our last camp and now, I travel toward Jessie.

My girlfriend stands solemnly with her head in her hands. I managed to pull them away momentarily to see the tears drifting down her cheeks, but she’s pulling her hands away and turning around before I can ask what’s wrong.

“Darl, it’s not you’re fault.” I don’t want to invade her space while she’s upset so I walk around her and simply stand, hoping she’ll reach for me.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Jess-”

“Leave me alone Y/n.” not another word is uttered as she turns toward Fran and Niamh and walks away from me.

I similarly turn to Sam and Erin, with a shocked look, jaw hanging and rejected tears looming on my water line.

“She probably just needs to be alone.” As Erin tries to comfort me, we all turn to look at the subject of the conversation, only to see her being comforted by Fran, Niamh and Ashley, despite her effort to insist she’s fine.

“Maybe I didn’t push hard enough?”

“No you should never push when they clearly need space.” Sam places a reassuring hand on my shoulder

“But why is it only me she needs space from? I’m supposed to be the one she seeks comfort in. That’s what girlfriends do.”

“I don’t know chickadee.”

-

I expect Jessie to already be back at our apartment by the time Erin drops me off. Our shared car had been taken from the parking lot at the stadium and Jessie had disappeared, so those dots connected themselves. But our designated parking space is empty as I stroll along the bitumen.

There are no familiar white shoes next to the door in the same exact spot she puts them every day, no kit bag hanging on a hook, waiting to be washed tomorrow. No Canadian waiting in our bed, curled up in one of my already oversized shirts or hoodies and shorts, begging me to hold her.

I try not to worry when I call her and she doesn’t pick up. Maybe she went the long way and there was traffic? So I call Niamh to ask her if she knows where Jessie went. She doesn’t have an answer. Then I try Fran, and Zecira, and even Emma.

I ask everyone to try and call her too, Sam offering to take Kristie and search every corner of London, Erin offering the same. It’s midnight by the time I give up trying to contact her, asking Aggie if I could borrow her car tomorrow to look around if she wasn’t back, her living down the road from us. The young forward is insistent on joining me if it comes to it.

When I wake up the next morning and find Jessie curled up against me, in one of my hoodies and shorts, relief washes over me. Her brown curls are messy, her soft pink lips cracked open to allow air into her lungs. The sun trickles in through the curtain and lights up her face, freckles looking like bursts of light against her skin. Her eyes are still puffy from last night and tears have dried upon her cheeks, and I can’t resist the urge to reach up and lightly wipe them away.

As my thumb drags across her tan skin, tracing her face, her eyes flutter open, and I remember how easy it is to get lost in them. So warm and inviting.

“Mornin’ honey.” I press a gentle kiss to her nose, her cheeks, her forehead and her eyelids.

“I’m sorry for last night. I just felt horrible, if only I didn’t make the tackle.”

“I know darl, but that’s what I’m here for. I love you, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you yeah? I was bloody worried though.” Jessie nestles her head into the crook of my neck and nods, pressing her own kisses on any skin she could reach.

I wrap my arms around her and pull her up until she’s laying on my chest instead. My cold hands sneak under her hoodie and she jumps from the shock, swatting at my hands beneath the fabric.

“I reckon I make us some tea and brekkie and then we can do whatever you want all day. How’s that sound?” I flip us over so Jessie can go back to sleep for a while, but she clings onto me, pulling me down aggressively by the front of my old Chelsea travel shirt. Her lips press against mine with energy and love and I get caught up in the feeling. A moan slips past someone’s lips, which of us I’m not quite sure, but I slowly pull away, trailing kisses down her neck until I reach her collar bone.

“Let’s save that energy for later yeah?” I swiftly wink as I finally roll off the bed.

-

I’m making scrambled eggs when I feel Jessie’s arms wrap around my waist. She presses soft kisses across my back as I sway us back and forth to the slow jazz song spewing from the record player.

The next song comes on and I abandon the meal completely, turning off the stove and twisting myself in Jessie’s hold so I can face her. I take one of her hands in mine and rest the other on her waist, her spare landing on my shoulder.

“Put your head on my shoulder; Hold me in your arms, baby” the lyrics continue as we follow along, her head resting against my chest, my chin balanced on top. We dance slowly through the kitchen, the music carrying throughout the house.

As the song finishes, I dip Jessie, leaning over her as her leg kicks out. My gaze flickers between her eyes and her lips and within seconds I’m kissing her again, still in the dip. When I pull her back up, she jumps into my arms and pulls my lips to meet hers for more, the force making me stumble back into the counter behind me.

“I want to slow dance with you around our house when we’re old and can barely kick a ball anymore. Our kids and grandkids playing around while it just feels like the two of us. Because it’s always been the two off us and I never want that to change.” Jessie whispers against my lips. My heart clenches with love as I take her in.

“Will you marry me?” The words escape both our lips almost in complete synchrony. I almost drop her, but my grip on her thighs upholds as I kiss her again, and again, until I can’t kiss her anymore.

-

“I stole this video from Y/n’s phone not long after Jessie and her broke the news of their engagement. Y/n had texted me that morning saying she wanted ideas for a ‘day in the life of a woman in love’ video she planned on making that very day, and I knew that she would have forgotten all about the phone while she and the love of her life shared a special memory together.” Sam takes a pause to look at Jessie and I, sitting side by side at the front of the room.

“What isn’t shown in the video, is the ring that was sitting in the pocket of Yn’s shorts, waiting to be place on the only hand it was made for. The ring went with her everywhere for at least a month before this cute dance proposal. Every day in training, Y/n would tell me a new plan she had come up with to ask Jessie to marry her, and I always told her ‘you should do it when the moment feels right. Don’t force it.’, as I clearly had experience with this sort of thing… And she told me that was a bunch of absolute bullshit.” Our friends and family laugh while my wife’s face drops in shock, her elbow lightly nudging my side. I let out a snicker and kiss her cheek, wiping off the lipstick residue that is left behind.

“Well it turns out I was right. As always. And I’m honoured to be standing here as a best woman in front of two of my best friends, the most amazing young players out there, two people who were made for each other; sculpted by the stars and the earth, to be in each other’s lives, celebrating that love. You’ve both overcome a lot, personally and as a couple, you deserve this love.” A tear escapes my eye as I stand to hug Sam.

“Now can the two nerds please make their way to the dance floor for their first dance?” I take Jessie’s hand in mine and pull her along.

Her suit coat is left on the back of my chair and her waistcoat is unbuttoned and she looks fucking good. Her hair rests on her shoulders and her slack pants fit perfectly around her thighs. Jessie holds part of my dress train, so we don’t trip as we hold each other in similar fashion to the day that led to this, the same song playing on the large speakers in each corner of the room.

“Put your head on my shoulder Whisper in my ear, baby Words I want to hear, tell me Tell me that you love me too”.

Jessie stands on her tippy toes, my heels not helping our height difference.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

First day

Originally posted on my Wattpad @MayaBishop_is_myWife

Alex Vause x reader

!!TW: mention of murder and vague drug mention!!

Work count:: 1.2k (not proof read)

Alex POV: (Alex and Piper aren't together in this)

I walked into the cafeteria and joined the que to get lunch, another day of sloppy something, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob. Yum, I can't complain though because it's better than nothing and if I do complain Red will starve me out. Brushing off hat thought, I get my food and saunter over to a table with some of my friends on it, Morello, Chapman and Nicky.  I take a seat and listen in on their conversation. 

Nicky - "No c'mon, she's hot."

Piper - "I agree, I mean have you seen her. The eyes, hair the hair!" dragging out the r sound at the end as if to make a point.

Alex - "Who you talking about?"

Nicky - "That new girl that showed up in the van this morning, she's very good lookin' although she's been crying in the bathroom since she got here so maybe not the most stable girl in here."

Morello - "There's worse trust me, and besides why are you all getting so worked up about this? Yeah she's nice to look at but what if she has someone outside of here? You know, like a boyfriend or girlfriend or someone, she might even be married for all you know?"

Nicky - "Yeah but you said it, she's nice to look at tuts, she's gunna be getting looks from all over. If she stops crying of course."

At this point my interest was piqued and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about so once I'd sat, had a tal and eaten my food I was going to go find this mystery girl and find out if they're actually telling the truth.

Y/n POV:

I can't believe I actually did that. I killed her. I killed my own mother. I keep telling myself it was the only way out but everytime I think about it the guilt and self resentment creeps back in. My mum had munchausen by proxy and she made me believe I was sick and could walk or do practically anything by myself. I really didn't see any other way out so, one night I just did it. Obviously I feel terrible and wish I'd never done it but, there really was no other way out. Anyway, it's done now and I'm in jail, thankfully not maximum security because people could see my side of the story and saw I wasn't just a cold-blooded killer. 

I've been at Litchfield a little over 5 hours now and as soon as I was allowed to go off and do my thing, I went straight for the bathroom and I've been crying ever since. Somehow, I managed to get the only stall with a door so thankfully people can't just watch me cry, hear me yes but watch, no.

All day people have been staring and I don't know why. Maybe they think I'm fucked up for what I did or something. I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I hear a soft knock on the door. 

Alex - "Hey, you okay in there? Stupid question I know because well, you're crying but I still feel like I have to ask."

I bite my lip and sigh before responding, I didn't expect anyone to actually care.

Y/n -  "Uhm- yeah, I guess I'm okay. Not my ideal situation but you know, life goes on."

Alex - "Yeah well you got that one right."

After that a not awkward but not totally comfortable silence fell over us. I slowly stood up and unlocked the door. I stepped out and tried to dry my face from the copious amount of tears I'd shead in the past hours of being here. Instantly this woman picked up on it and gently held my face in one hand and helped me wipe my tears with the other.

Alex - "You'll be okay, I'm going to be brutally honest with you, the first few days are actual hell, you'll miss everything and everyone but, I'll be here is you ever want to talk about it okay? Oh, and I'm Alex by the way, but everyone calls me Vause, it's my last name." 

I smiled at Alex and nodded my head a small thank you leaving my lips. She pulled me into her embrace and held me tight. 

Alex - "You know, they were right."

I was confused because I had not a single idea what she was going on about. So, I pulled my head slightly away from her shoulder and looked at her.

Y/n - "What do you mean? Who's right?"

Alex - "Oh just my friends, they said some stiff about how you were really good looking and what not."

You felt a blush creep across my face as you looked into her gorgeous green eyes only now just realising after looking a her properly just how beautiful she really was. A sly smirk found it's way onto her lips before she spoke again. 

Alex - "Hey, don't get all shy on me now."

A she said that her hand found it's way to my waist as she pulled me closer again. Whilst she trailed her other hand up my body and hooked a finger around my chin so I'd look her in the eyes.

Y/n - "You really mean it?"

Alex - "Of course I do, I mean I've known you what, like 2 minutes and I'm already calling you beautiful I think that speaks for itself ." 

I giggle a bit and looked down in an attempt to hide my flustered face yet again, knowing she was right. I looked her in the eyes again only to see her eyes had never left me and she had a wide smile of her face. 

Alex POV:

I looked down slightly because I was a bit taller than her and just marvelled at this gorgeous girl in front of me she had glowing y/h/c hair and shining y/e/c eyes, her smile could light up a room and her laugh was so fucking adorable. Normally, I'm not the one to fall over small stuff like this but she was different,  I don't know why, she just was.

She looked me back in the eyes and I couldn't help myself anymore, I leaned in and captured her lips in mine. They fit together like puzzle pieces. Her hand found their way into my hair while mine rested on the small of her back keeping her safe in my arms. I swiped my tongue over her bottom lip asking for entrance and she happily agreed. She tugged on my hair a little so in return I grazed my teeth over her bottom lip and she let out a small breathy moan which was almost silent but, I could still hear it. We broke away for ir and as soon as we separated we crashed our lips back together hungrily. She was almost as addictive as some of the things women in the jail used to do. 

Just as things were getting heated someone burts into the bathroom.

Healy - "INMATES NO LESBIAN ACTIVITY ALLOWED!"

We both untangled ourselves from each other and apologised. As he left I whispered in her ear. 

Y/n POV:

Alex - "He won't catch us tonight sweetheart don't worry. I'll have you all to myself, I'll make you feel better."

She then gave me a final eck on the lips and walked out the bathroom. Oh man, I was not going to get much sleep on my first night in prison.

[minkyungseokie]

第三章 | First Day of Work

warnings; age gap love(R: 23, S:39, T: 50), untranslated Korean, untranslated Chinese

note; chapter three!! I might be falling out of love with the sport ngl. After this, I might take a long break

note2; please feel free to request moodboards, blurbs, smaus, or anything else you want for this series. Or just request anything as long as you read my rules and how to request thing

fc; imleslie(Y/n), xavier serrano(Aaron Antognelli), blanca soler(Chiara Lorenzi)

Come Talk to Me

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I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

DO NOT ask me to update this story. I'll update this when I can.

An arm reached out from under the mound of blankets and practically slapped the phone off the table as the alarm pierced through the quiet and comfortable atmosphere, "Ugh.." Y/n groaned, retracting her arm and cuddling into her pillow. Just as she was about to fall back to sleep, the familiar sound of her ringtone rang through the air, "God fucking dammit." Y/n cursed, throwing the blanket off of her body and grabbing her phone.

Y/n put the phone on speaker and threw her legs over the side of the bed, "What?" She barked, "Woah, why so hostile? You told me to call you to ensure you woke up." The voice of Y/n's sister, Jisue, or Rachel, said. Y/n sighed and picked up her phone, unplugging it from the wall before walking to the bathroom, "Yeah, I remember. Sorry, I just...didn't sleep very well last night." Y/n groaned, running a hand through her hair as she searched through her drawers for an outfit.

"It's fine. You forget that I'm your older sister. It isn't my first time dealing with you when you're like this. Do you know what you're going to wear?" Rachel questioned, "Nah, I'm completely clueless, mate. You wanna hop on FaceTime and help me pick an outfit?' Y/n asked, grabbing her phone and waiting for her sister to answer.

"Duh. You know I would love to help you out. Say, I'm at Mum and Dad's right now, so I can get Olivia to help as well if you want." Rachel suggested. Y/n gasped, "Yes! Yes, go get her!" Y/n encouraged. She loved all of her siblings the same amount and Y/n refused to treat one better than the other two, but Olivia was the baby of the family, everyone had a soft spot for the girl.

She was an absolute sweetheart, as all of the Lee siblings were. "Okay, hold on. She'd love to help since you're probably her favourite sibling." Rachel joked, Y/n scoffed playfully and rolled her eyes, "Oli doesn't have a favourite sibling. If she did, it'd be Felix."

Rachel quickly got up and went to go get Olivia while Y/n pulled out some options to wear otherwise they would be there all day going through her clothes.

Thudding was heard on the other end of the phone and the thump of someone landing on the soft bed the phone must've been on. "Y/N!!" Olivia greeted cheerfully, "Oliva!" Y/n copied her enthusiasm. "Olivia, be careful with my phone." Rachel hissed, plopping down on the bed next to her youngest sister, "Oh shush, Rachel. I was being careful. Anyway, I'm going to FaceTime you now." Olivia directed her attention to Y/n.

The older Australian waited until the screen for the call popped up and immediately hit answer, "G'day, my lovely sisters." Y/n greeted again, waving with both hands. Olivia was lying on the bed with her feet up in the air, swinging back and forth while Rachel sat behind her.

"Hello! Show us what you have already." Olivia said, getting into a better position, "Move over, Olivia." Rachel ordered, getting on the bed and pushing the youngest Lee sibling over gently. "Okay, keep in mind that I want to make a good impression on my boss." Y/n reminded, putting the shirts over her arm so she could get ready to show them off.

Y/n looked at her phone to see both of her sisters giving her looks of suspicion, "What?" Y/n asked, "Since when did you care about giving off good impressions?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at the younger woman, "Yeah, you usually don't care unless..." Olivia let out a loud gasp, "You're...are..Y/n! Do you want to attract your boss?! Is he or she attractive?! What's their name? I'm going to look them up."

"Woah, woah, woah, Olivia. Calm Down. What are you getting at?" Rachel asked, putting a hand on their sister's shoulder, who was vibrating in place as she grabbed Rachel's laptop. "You weren't around when this happened, but every time Y/n put more effort into her appearance, she found the boss super attractive," Olivia explained.

"Is this true, Y/n? Do you find your boss attractive?" Rachel questioned with a teasing smile growing on her face, Y/n looked to the side as her cheeks gained a hue, "Maybe, but it doesn't matter. She's married and way out of my league. Anyway. here are my shirt options." Y/n brushed off the topic and showed off each of the shirts.

"Hmm, personally I like option number three the most. I think go with the black button down. You look amazing in black." Olivia said, "I agree, black is a part of your aesthetic." Rachel agreed.

Y/n took off her pyjama shirt and threw it onto the bed just as she got another call, "Who's calling you?" Olivia asked, "Yongbok. I'm going to add him to the FaceTime call." Y/n said, picking up her phone again and sending a text to her younger brother.

After the text was sent, it didn't take too long for Felix to join the call just as Y/n was propping the phone up, "Hello. Why are you shirtless?" Felix asked as his face popped up on the screen.

A face popped up over Felix's shoulder and stared at Y/n with wide eyes and rosy cheeks, "I was getting dressed for my first day at work. Hey, Hannie." Y/n greeted, waving at the wide-eyed quokka.

The chubby-faced boy waved back, "안녕하세요, 누나." Jisung greeted, "지성아, 말해봐요. 이 셔츠 마음에 들어요? 아니면 다른 걸로 갈까요?" Y/n asked, holding up the black button-down. "Black..is good. I like black." Jisung answered, giving the girl a thumbs up.

Y/n unbuttoned the shirt and threw it on, "너도 도와줄 거야, 하니?" Y/n questioned, seeing the younger man was still there, "네, 괜찮으시다면." Jisung answered.

"Next up are the pants. Show us what you got." Felix said, "Yeah, I'm ready to see what you have for pants." Olivia spoke, "Knowing her they are all going to be high-waisted pants that are either in black or that weird tan-beige colour." Rachel joked.

Rachel looked at Y/n, who was now standing frozen with a guilty look on her face, "Y/n, you do have jeans in more than one style and two colours, right?" Rachel asked. Y/n pursed her lips and picked up two pairs of shoes, "So what shoes should I go for?" She asked, changing the subject

"I like the platform Doc Martins." Felix said, "I like the boots." Rachel said, pointing to the Doc Martin boots that Y/n held in her other hand/ "I like the platforms." Olivia said, "I like..boots as well." Han spoke.

"So we have two for the boots and two for the platforms. Hey, Olivia, go get mum and ask for her opinion." Y/n ordered. Olivia rolled her eyes but went to go get their mother as requested, "Mum!" Olivia called out as she jogged to wherever their mother was located in the house.

"So how are things in Monaco?" Felix asked, "Oh, Monaco is amazing so far. I've only been to a few places which were the market, my new home, a cafe to meet my new boss, and that's about it." Y/n shrugged.

"Speaking of her new boss. Y/n might have a little crush on her married boss." Rachel told Felix, "Rachel! Lixie, don't listen to her. I don't have a crush on Mrs. Wolff. I do think she's gorgeous, but nothing would ever come of it if I did want to be more than friends, or more than boss and PA, with her." Y/n rolled her eyes.

"I don't think it means anything. You know how Y/n is. She finds people attractive, but she's too scared...sorry, shy, to do anything about her attraction." Felix said.

"Hey!"

"I'm back with Mum!" Olivia announced, running into the room and diving onto the bed. Sure enough, after a couple of seconds, the Lee sibling's mother enters the room and sits down, "Hello, Mum!" Y/n greeted the beautiful woman.

"Hello, sweetheart. I just want to let you know that I'm proud of you for finding such a good job." Mrs. Lee said sweetly, wishing she could hug her child and run her hands through her hair.

"Thank you, mam. I'll be right back." Y/n said, grabbing her clothes before stepping out of the frame. Mrs. Lee got up and exited the room since she was no longer needed, "Do you guys really think Y/n isn't interested in the boss lady?" Olivia asked in a low voice.

"I am not sure, honestly." Rachel admitted, "Y/n 누나는 쉽게 사랑에 빠지는 타입이 아닙니다." Han spoke up, "You're right. She really isn't the type to fall in love easily and she definitely isn't someone who is into homewrecking." Felix agreed.

Rachel opened her mouth to say something, but the sound of rustling clothes getting closer made her snap her jaw shut as quickly as she opened it.

"Okay, how do I look?" Y/n asked, giving the group a 360 view of her outfit. "You look amazing as always." Rachel complimented, "As pretty as always." Felix added, "Unbutton a few of those buttons. You look like a fuc- ahem a nerd." Olivia said.

"N/n, I'm being so serious about this when I ask and I don't want you to think I'm accusing you of anything, but..." Felix trailed off, unsure as to how to phrase the question.

"You usually wear more masculine or androgynous clothing, but all of a sudden you're being really feminine," Olivia spoke up. 

Y/n nearly reeled back in shock. She wasn't doing much of anything other than getting dressed and ready for her first day at work, which she had to get to in an hour. "I'm not sure if I follow what you're trying to say." Y/n narrowed her eyes.

"I'm just saying that maybe you're much more attracted to that woman who hired you than you thought and maybe you're unconsciously changing things about yourself to appeal to her." Rachel shrugged.

Y/n stared at her family with wide eyes. She didn't know why they were accusing her of being into her boss, but it made her want to rip her cochlear out of her head, but it wasn't that serious.

Y/n didn't understand why they would think that. Y/n hated things like that.

Love at first sight.

To her, it wasn't real and never existed. How are you going to fall in love with someone based on nothing but their looks? It's shallow and it's also how people end up in bad relationships since someone could be the most handsome man or woman you had ever met and simultaneously be the shittiest person alive.

To Y/n, being accused of being so attracted to Susie without her properly knowing the woman made Y/n feel like they saw her as shallow and superficial.

To Y/n, being accused of trying to dress to attract a woman with a family meant calling her a homewrecker.

Y/n didn't associate with people like that or live by the love at first sight thing because beauty will fade, but one's character will not.

"You guys know damn well that I'm not like that." Y/n hissed, "Y/n, we don't mean it like that--" Rachel started.

"No, you do mean it like that. I dress for myself and my success, not to attract an already-married woman. What kind of person do you think I am? I told you that she's married. I told you that she has a family." Y/n interrupted.

"Y/nnie..." Han called out, "I'm sorry, but I don't want to talk to any of you right now." Y/n huffed, pressing the 'end call' button. 

The Chinese Australian dusted the imaginary dust off of her outfit and finished getting ready. She grabbed her glasses and put them on before putting her hair in a half up half down style.

Y/n grabbed a belt and wrapped it around her waist, making sure she didn't miss any of the belt loops before grabbing her backpack and the keys to the BMW Series 3 she had rented.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Y/n sat in the car with her hands on the wheel and her eyes closed, she felt bad for assuming what her sisters had meant by what they had said. She also felt really bad for getting so upset with them and she didn't even know why she was so upset by it.

Yes, she was willing to admit that Susie Wolff was an absolutely gorgeous woman, but to say that she was changing herself in order to attract the older woman was blasphemous to her.

Y/n input the address into her phone and followed the directions to a makeshift office that Susie used while In Monaco. The Headquarters was in London and Susie had a son to raise, so she couldn't be in London all the time like she wanted to be.

"Wait, does this mean I'm going to have to travel all over the world? I know that I have an expensive apartment and rent this expensive car, but I'm not rich. This job better pay me enough." Y/n muttered.

Y/n stopped in front of the makeshift office and exited the car with her bag in hand, shoving her keys into the bag as she walked up to the front door. As she stared at the building, her stomach did flips, she hated starting a new job.

Starting a new place of work always made her feel like her stomach was flipping so hard that it'd fall out of her ass. Taking a deep breath and gripping the straps of her bag, Y/n muttered encouragements to herself, "来吧, Y/n。别这么娘娘腔 男人......呃......女人，快滚进大楼" 

After cursing at herself in Chinese, Y/n finally opened the door and stepped inside. "Hello, how may I help you?" The receptionist asked with a sweet smile on her face, "Um, I'm here to see Mrs. Susie Wolff. I am her new PA." Y/n explained, wiping her clammy hands on her pants.

The receptionist typed a few things before picking up her phone and calling someone. After a few minutes, the woman looked up at her again, "Okay, you can go sit and Mrs. Wollf will be with you shortly." 

Y/n nodded and turned to go sit in the lobby. The girl sat down and looked around, studying the lobby of the building. This must be where Susie works when her husband is busy doing whatever it is he does and she wants to be around her son.

"Alright, have a wonderful day. Be a good boy for Jessi, okay?" Y/n turned at the sound of Susie's voice to see her kneeling down with her hands on a little blonde boy's shoulders. The little boy nodded and wrapped his arms around Susie's neck.

Y/n and Susie watched as another woman, whom Y/n admittedly didn't notice at first, picked the young boy up and walked out of the building. Y/n continued to watch the duo leave, not noticing Susie turn to her with a smile.

"Ms. Lee? Ms. Lee?" Susie called out before putting a hand on Y/n's shoulder. Y/n jumped up in surprise and whipped around, "妈的! Oh, Mrs. Wolff. I apologise. I didn't see you walking up to me." Y/n breathed, putting a hand over her heart as if it would stop the racing.

"Did I scare you? I'm sorry." Susie apologised with a chuckle, "It's fine. Anyway, good morning to you, Mrs. Wolff. How was your morning so far?" Y/n questioned, standing up.

"Oh, it was okay. It's been a long and busy one. How about you? How was your morning so far?" Susie asked, "It was a morning. I woke up, got dressed, and drove here." Y/n answered.

Susie gestured for Y/n to follow her, "That's certainly a way to start the morning. Are you hungry?" Susie questioned, Y/n opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by her stomach growling.

It wasn't as loud as books and stories make it out to be, but when in a huge, silent, echoey hallway where things seemed much more audible than they really were...

Y/n's jaw dropped and her hands pressed against her stomach as if that would stop the growling. "I guess that answers my question." Susie chuckled, "We don't have food in the office, but I was planning on revisiting that cafe we went to last time. It's a tad bit stuffy in the office anyway."

Sussie led the younger woman out of the building, "Do you want to ride with me or are you fine taking your car?" Susie questioned. 

Y/n wanted to take the rental car, but she also wanted to ride with Susie. It would be nice to get to know her boss better, but at the same time, Y/n didn't know if it was appropriate to do so.

But wait.

She's a PA, which means she should be nearby at all times during work hours, right? With a nod, Y/n walked up to the passenger side door and put her hand on the handle, "I hope you don't mind if I ride with you." 

Susie waved her in, "No problem. Come on in." She said. Y/n opened the door to the Mercedes and slid into the passenger seat. 

Y/n looked around the interior with a look of awe. She had never been in such a luxury car. She rented the BMW, but it was at a discounted price and even that price was much more than she could afford.

"You like the car?" Susie questioned, looking at Y/n inspecting the interior of the car, "Yeah, it's much nicer than any other car I've been in. When I make enough money, I'm going to get one. A Mercedes, I mean." Y/n answered.

"Is your current car not good enough?" Susie asked, reversing as Y/n buckled up, "No, that's not my car. I rented it and I have to return it soon. I don't have enough money to get one at the moment. Spent all of my money on my expensive apartment." Y/n sighed.

Susie's smile faded as she processed what Y/n had said, while Y/n herself was practically kicking herself. 

Why would she just tell her business to her new boss like that?

"Y/n, do you have enough money for food?" Susie asked but got no answer, which was enough of an answer for her. 

Susie cleared her throat, "Moving on, I'm going to need you to fill out some stuff when we get to the cafe. I forgot to bring it with me last time." Susie changed the subject.

"Of course. I'm excited to go to the cafe again. They had delicious pastries. Have you tried their normal menu?" Y/n asked, gratefully accepting the topic switch.

She didn't need to or want to, seem like she wasn't in a good place. She wasn't, but she wasn't going to tell her new employer that she had spent so much on her apartment, the car, and buying her first set of groceries, that she had no more money.

Which was a huge reason as to why she got this job in the first place. She was a wannabe model whose life went to shit as soon as she tried to be a model. If it weren't for her parents and Felix, she'd...

Y/n shook her head. She didn't want to think about what would've become of her if they hadn't lent her enough money to pay her bills. 

In a way, they were also the only reason she was able to make it to Monaco. 

Susie looked at her new assistant out of the side of her eye. She had been talking to her, but she could tell Y/n's attention wasn't on her.

Her face was blank, but her body said that she wasn't happy with what was going through her head. Susie parked the car in the lot of the cafe in which they first officially met and turned the car off.

She studied the half-Australian before reaching out, pulling her hand back in hesitation before fully reaching out and placing her hand on top of Y/n's clenched one.

Y/n nearly jumped out of her skin when Susie's smooth hand covered hers, the touch was cool yet sent sparks of heat in her stomach. Y/n looked up at the much older woman with wide eyes, "Sorry ma'am, did you--?"

"Are you okay? Truthfully, are you okay?" Susie questioned, Y/n nodded her head, putting her free hand over Susie's, "I'm fine. I was just deep in thought. We should go in." Y/n said, pulling her hands away and exiting the car.

Susie let out a sigh and followed Y/n. It wasn't her place to push the girl, but as her employer and more importantly a mother, she couldn't help but want to understand more about what was upsetting her.

She wanted to help the younger woman as much as she could. But first, it seemed she had to gain her trust.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

The two women now sat at a two-person table on the patio with menus in their hands and a silence between them. It was the type of silence that was not uncomfortable nor was it comfortable. 

It was the type of silence one could enjoy for a long time without feeling awkward, but it wasn't the type of silence that was comfortable.

Y/n didn't know how to describe it in any other way than that.

The dark-haired half-Aussie looked up when she heard Susie clear her throat gently, "Uh, do you know what you want yet? The stuff we got last time was pretty good, so I might take some home for my family." Susie said, continuing to look at the options for food.

"Uh, yeah. I think I know what I want, but I don't know if it's any good. It's the Brioche au Homrd façon Riviera. What about you?" Y/n asked, Susie showed Y/n the menu and pointed at which one she wanted, "Ah, the Croque Monsieur à la Truffe. It sounds delicious. Oh, here comes the waitress." Y/n noted, politely waving over to the waitress.

As the waitress walked over, Susie's phone began to ring, "Shoot, I have to take this. Do you mind ordering for me?" Susie asked, grabbing her phone from her purse.

"Go on, Mrs. Wolff. I'll order for you." Y/n smiled before turning to the waitress.

Susie walked outside the cafe and stood by the car, "Hello?" Susie answered, "Hello, liebling." The gruff voice of her husband greeted sweetly.

"How are things going in Sakhir?" Susie asked, "Things are going great. The car is looking wonderful and I'm really confident this season. How are things going with your new intern?" Toto questioned.

"She's my personal assistant, Toto. And she's wonderful so far. A really beautiful and sweet girl that I think will make a wonderful personal assistant." Susie said. Toto could hear that she wanted to say something, but didn't want to continue and, knowing her, whatever it was was eating at her.

"And what is the problem?" Toto questioned, "I..." Susie hesitated. She wanted to help Y/n because she knew that the woman would end up in a really bad situation. She'd earn €33,965 per year or €2,684.85 per month and, as much as it seemed, it would only pay for her rent. 

It wouldn't be enough for her to fully live off of and Susie wished she could raise the amount she had to pay, but she wasn't legally allowed to.

But it also wasn't any of her business, so she just shook her head, "Nothing. Nothing at all." Susie sighed.

After about a twenty-minute conversation with her husband, Susie hung up and made her way back to the restaurant. "I'm back. Sorry for keeping you." Susie apologised, pulling out the chair and sitting down.

"It's fine, Mrs. Wolff. The food just got here anyway." Y/n said, placing the food Susie ordered in front of her. 

"Okay, so while we eat, I'm going to have you sign some documents that I forgot to have you sign and I'll explain what you'll be doing," Susie said, opening up her purse and pulling out some papers.

Y/n, who had begun cutting her lobster roll in half, looked up at the sound of the paper being placed in front of her. Her hands were a bit messy, so she extended her pinky and used it to drag the documents over to her side where she could see better.

After looking it over, Y/n grabbed her napkin and wiped off her hands before grabbing a pen that Susie offered, "Thanks," Y/n muttered.

"So as my personal assistant you will help me with managing schedules, communicating, taking notes, planning, organizing, preparing, and reminding." Susie explained, picking up a half of her sandwich.

Y/n looked up from the paperwork she was doing and looked at Susie with confusion written all over her freckled face.

 "I know I didn't explain it well. You will basically be helping me schedule meetings, appointments, and events. You'll help me answer phone calls, emails, and any inquiries. You will be taking meeting minutes and transcribing from dictation, planning travel, including flights, accommodations, and transportation, organizing events and conferences, preparing reports, presentations, and briefs, and reminding their manager of important tasks and deadlines." Susie said.

Y/n put her pen down and nodded her head, "I know it sound like a lot to do alone, but you won't be doing git alone. We'll be working together. The only thing that you'll probably be doing alone is running errands for me when I'm busy." Susie reassured, biting into her sandwich.

"Oh, I understand. Doesn't sound too difficult to do." Y/n spoke, picking up her roll and taking a big bite. Y/n hummed in satisfaction as the flavours of her food hit her tongue, "This is really good." The woman muttered.

"I've never had food from here either, but I'm really enjoying this." Susie agreed.

"So, Mrs. Wolff, how long have you been in motorsports?" Y/n asked, "Well, I started out as a driver and then I decided I'd  help little girls achieve their dreams of becoming F1 drivers themselves. What about you? I read that you used to be a really talented driver before quitting." Susie noted.

"I was close to becoming an F1 driver, but I contracted menegitis and I lost my hearing, so I couldn't compete anymore. Also, I couldn't get any sponsors despite being "talented"" Y/n said, putting air quotes around talented.

"I've watched some of your old races and I think you would've made it pretty far in F1." Susie complimented, wiping her hands and mouth.

"Thank you, Mrs. Wolff." Y/n thanked bashfully.

"Please, call me Susie. We'll be working close together from now on." Susie gave Y/n a smile and, once again, the girl couldn't help but notice how beautiful her smile was.

The two had settled into a comfortable silence where the only sounds that were heard was the ambiance of the cafe with the patrons chattering, utensils clinking against plates, and the sound of the kitchen workers making food and drink in the back.

Susie finished her food and wiped her hands and mouth again, leaning against the table and watching Y/n finish up her own food. 

"Say, Y/n," Susie called to grab her attention. Y/n looked up and tilted her head curiously, "If you had the chance, would you become a driver again?"

Y/n froze. Driving again had always been a sensitive topic to her. She wanted to drive again. She wanted to feel the wheel under her hands, a helmet on her head, and the seat that's fitted perfectly for her.

She wanted to be a driver more than she wanted to model, but she knew she could never do it again. The inside of her ears didn't work, which means she couldn't hear any radio messages.

Unless there was a way they could help her hear without using the ear pieces, it was impossible and Y/n told her just that.

"I would if I could. But with me being unable to hear normally, there's just no way. I have to wear headphones that cover my cochlear and hearing aid or else I wouldn't be able to hear anything." Y/n explained.

Susie nodded in understanding, thinking about something before deciding to discuss it with her husband later.

"Okay, well, back to business. The F1 Academy won't be announced until November, but we have a lot of things to do before it opens. Are you ready?" Susie asked.

"I am."

↳ ❝ [Taglist] ¡!❞

@lewisvinga @only-nope @goldenmoonbeam @victorharrington @cheyxfu @xoscar03 @sunnylikesfrogs @laur2608 @evie-119 @alliwantisadonut @exotic-iris13 @thewolffswife

[captjprice]

Soap with an Welsh f!reader? 😩 With him just trying his best to learn her about culture, language and country. Just loving her so much that he'll do anything for her. You can add anything I just want my Welsh representation ‼️

Johnny ''Soap'' Mactavish x Welsh!Reader

a/n: i did research. sort of. still, im sorry if its not perfect :( i also havent written fro johnny before so this is.. new

mentions: Fluff, Johnny's an arse, but it's cute

''So, yer basically speaking Elvish, that's it?'' A Scottish voice snaps you from your thoughts. A Scottish voice that belongs to a man you'd very much like to punch and slap. Knowing Johnny was.. dreadful, but even more so now that he seemingly discovered Welsh was the inspiration for Tolkien's Elvish. Your culture wasn't something you spoke about often in the group, mostly because you didn't think any of the members would bother with it.

But then there's Johnny, who seems to be almost too into it. He was constantly at your side, teasing and asking about it. You were wrong, however, to assume that it held ill intent. He was head over heels. Totally smitten. With you, the way you looked, the way you acted.. Ofcourse he was going to try and get to know you. Despite your annoyance, he didn't let up. He'll get what he wants eventually. 

''Not really Elvish then, Bonnie?'' He asks, leaning to you in the booth of the bar. Fuck, that nickname too.. You had to look it up the first time he called you that, thinking he was calling you by someone else's name.

''Not really, Johnny.'' You grumble in response, downing the last of your drink with hopes that it may numb the irritation and secret attraction for him. Sure, he was a cock, but he also had this irresistible aura around him that was intoxicating somehow. It made you want to linger around him, so you did just that with the hopes it wouldn't be too obvious. 

''So it's just inspired it, then, lass? Come on, talk to me.'' He presses, causing you to huff and shift towards him. ''Yes. It's just inspired. But it's a bit annoying because that's all people talk about when I tell them i'm Welsh.'' You mutter, which causes his smile to twitch slightly. Shit. Bad move, Johnny.

He clears his throat, scooting a little closer to you. ''Alright. Tell me somethin' interesting, then.'' Johnny says with a nod, staring at you. The way he's giving his undivided attention is making you slightly flustered, especially with the way he's looking at you. Good grief.. 

You move again, your hands placing around on your thighs as you think of something to tell him. Eventually you let out a little breath, ''Um, well, the language is very pretty. Cariad means darling, for example.'' Why am I telling him about nicknames? ''Uh, blodyn means flower.''

As you speak, Johnny's nodding along, seemingly very interested. ''We also have these things called love spoons, and they're just spoons with symbols engraved in them. It's like a token of love, sort of.. My mum always got me ones with flowers on it. It means love. It's kind of silly, but it's sweet.'' You say, smiling fondly at the memory. When you briefly glance up at him, he's practically swooning as he looks at you. ''Sounds adorable, lass.'' His hand rests on the free spot between you two, inching a little closer to your thigh. You smile softly, tilting your head. So he is actually interested. ''Uh, yeah, it's.. yeah.'' You reply, slightly unsure how to continue the conversation. Awkward silence washes over the two of you until Johnny speaks up again.

''So, you plannin' anything after this?'' He asks, his other arm gently snaking around your shoulders. You aren't sure if it's the drinks you've had, or that Johnny just looks so damn good that causes you to lean into him, shaking your head. ''Mm, alright, lass. How about we watch a little movie after, aye?'' His other hand places on your thigh, giving a soft squeeze. 

''Only if ya want to, though, No pressure.'' He adds quickly behind it, not wanting you to feel pressured– especially when intoxicated.

You nod, leaning your thighs over to his side, as if telling him it's okay. ''Sure. Aslong as you don't talk about that fuckin' Elvish again.'' You reply, and let out a little noise when Johnny's hand wraps around your waist to pull you flush against him. ''Or what, Bonnie?'' He teases, looking down at you. ''I'll shut you up.'' You blurt, realizing just how wrong it sounds until after you've said it. He snickers, his hands toying at the edge of your shirt. ''Oh, yeah? You will?'' 

You give an annoyed grumble in response, feeling your face heat up. That wasn't how you meant that comment. At all. You can feel Johnny lean in a little, his breath hitting your ear. ''Shut me up then, lass.''

You definitely did when you got back.

[helloalycia]

𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐒 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] — 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐍

summary: when you finally get through the toughest of winters with Katniss, glad you won't lose her, it's all for nothing because she volunteers for her sister in the Hunger Games.

warning/s: usual the hunger games warnings.

author's note: little late today but here’s the second and final part! was fun to write a katniss and i hope you all liked the ending 🥰

one / masterlist / wattpad

It was a few days later when I visited Katniss and found her sat in the living room for a change. I had to do a double take when I saw her, so used to seeing her be bed-bound. But no, she was sat on the couch in fresh clothes and looking freshly bathed. I was surprised, unable to do anything but stare until she beckoned me to join her.

"Sorry, but you just– you're up!" I said with amazement. "Katniss."

She smiled a little, nodding. "I am. I think this is the first time I can actually hold my own."

Hearing her say that made me relax instantly, my worry and concern fully disappearing. It was all I'd ever wanted. And she was already looking a lot better, the colour returning to her cheeks, the circles under her eyes disappearing, the migraines practically nonexistent. She was beginning to look like her old self again.

"Listen," she said suddenly, and I realised she was struggling to tell me something. "Whilst I was at my worst, you did a lot when I couldn't. And I just– thank you, Y/N."

"Of course," I said dismissively.

"No, you did way too much," she added, meeting my eyes. "More than you needed to. With looking after my family and with the medicine."

"I'd do it all again too," I said with a shrug, and the look she shot me made me take on a more serious approach. "I couldn't imagine losing you, Katniss. I wouldn't know what to do. You mean so much to me and I had to get you better. There was no other option."

She exhaled uncomfortably, looking down, and I winced at my declaration. Katniss was never one for talking about her feelings, let alone hearing other people gush about theirs. She was always too busy surviving, so she never had time for it.

"Sorry," I said. "I know you hate sappy stuff."

"No," she said quickly. "It's not that. It's–" She paused, looking up at me hesitantly. "The truth is, I thought I was gonna– I wasn't sure if I'd make it. It terrified me, not being able to move or do things or take care of my family. And Prim, poor Prim... I would have had to leave her. And you, I wouldn't have been able to say goodbye. Not properly."

"But it's not like that anymore," I reminded her, taking her hand and squeezing it.

My eyes were watering after hearing her say that, knowing she'd been thinking that and fearing death. Just the thought of losing Katniss for good had terrified me, but I'd never considered how she must have felt.

"It's not," she agreed.

I hugged her tightly. "No more goodbyes."

I felt her nod in my shoulder, arms wrapping around me comfortably.

Katniss was getting better every time I saw her, still resting and not leaving the house, but on the road to recovery. One day however, she surprised me at my house, a knock on the front door bringing me to her.

"Katniss," I breathed out, both surprised and amazed when I saw her standing there in the snow, dressed in her hunting gear and holding a bag. "You're looking well."

I hugged her, still trying to accept that she was stood in front of me. It was the first time all winter that she'd been well enough to leave the house, a sight I was scared I'd never see again.

"Yeah, I felt well enough to go out and try to get things back to normal," she admitted during the hug. "My mum approved it."

I smiled, looking at her again.

"It's for you," she said, suddenly remembering she was holding a bag, and holding it out to me. "A thank you, though it's nowhere near enough."

I cocked my head with confusion before looking in the bag. There were three dead rabbits inside, perfectly shot with precision.

"You didn't have to," I said, before adding when I saw her defensive expression, "but thank you. It's more than enough."

She exhaled, definitely wanting to disagree but leaving it. I stepped to the side to let her in, closing the door behind her and calling for my parents.

"Hey, mum, Katniss brought us some–"

"Oh, Katniss, dear, you're okay!" my mum exclaimed with relief, immediately pulling her in for a hug. "It's so good to see you out and about again."

Katniss flushed with embarrassment. "Thanks, Mrs Y/L/N."

My dad soon walked out from the spare room, smiling at Katniss when he saw her.

"You look as good as new, Katniss," he complimented, patting her on the back. "So good to see you looking well."

Katniss nodded appreciatively, and I handed my mum the bag.

"She brought us some rabbits," I told her.

"Oh, how kind of you," my mum said to her with a warm smile, before looking to my dad. "C'mon, hon, we should get this prepared."

"Thanks again for the rabbits, Katniss," my dad said appreciatively, before the two of them left us as they headed to the kitchen.

I tried not to laugh as I saw Katniss' expression. "Sorry, I know they're a bit much sometimes. They just care about you."

"No, it's fine," Katniss said with a wave of her hand. "It's sweet of them."

A smile curled on my lips as I watched her once more. Stood there in her dad's hunting jacket, the tip of her nose turned red from the cold, hair braided over her shoulder... she looked like the old Katniss. The one I'd so dearly missed.

"What?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Nothing."

"Don't do that," she groaned. "I hate when you do that."

I sighed. "Okay, I guess I'm just happy that you're back to how you were. It's something I was scared I wouldn't see again."

"It's thanks to you," she reminded me, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

I rolled my eyes playfully, making her smile with amusement.

"Do you wanna stay for dinner?" I asked.

"I should head back," she admitted, heading to the front door again. "Mum's orders. Plus, that was all for you and your family. Enjoy it, please."

"Right, well take it easy," I told her lightheartedly, but meaning it. "Hunting again is good, but it's still dangerous. Especially whilst you're on the mend."

She gave me a sarcastic look. "Always."

I returned it with a knowing one. "Katniss. Seriously."

Gaze softening, she nodded. "I will. After everything that happened, I'm extra careful now. Promise."

I nodded, relieved to hear that, and watched as she didn't quite look away, seemingly stuck in thought. She swallowed hard, distracted, and I was about to ask what was on her mind, but she suddenly straightened up and cleared her throat.

"I'll see you later," she said, hugging me.

I smiled a little, squeezing her gently, before watching her leave.

When Reaping Day fell upon us, I truly didn't expect Prim to be chosen. If anything, my concerns were for Gale and Katniss, whose names were in there plenty of times. Even my own, after adding it in over the winter. But Prim wasn't in my thoughts because she was only in there once. So, how the hell did she get picked?

I should have known Katniss would volunteer in her place – she loved her sister the most in the world, it was inevitable. But it also meant that I was at risk of losing her again, just like in winter. But no medicine could save her this time.

After I watched Katniss walk on that stage, everything happened so quickly. The boy, Peeta, getting picked as the boy tribute, the ceremony ending and Gale yanking me with him to support Prim and her mum. We were all scheduled to say our goodbyes to Katniss, only having a short amount of time with her.

Her family went first, having the longest time to say their goodbyes, and then it was Gale. During this time, I was trying to get over myself and think about what I would say to her, how I could help her this one last time. But nothing was springing to mind except the tears to my eyes, and I was struggling to see beyond the obvious: Katniss might never return.

Once Gale returned with the guard of a peacekeeper, I saw how he tried to hide his tears and was reminded of my own. I knew I couldn't cry in front of her. It wasn't fair and she needed hope, not a blubbering mess.

The same peacekeeper who was with Gale led me up some stairs in the Justice Building and stopped before a set of double doors, further guarded by two more peacekeepers.

"You have five minutes," one told me, and I raised my brows with disbelief.

"But that's not even–"

"Five minutes," he repeated firmly, before the doors opened and I was forced to obey.

I walked in, eyes immediately searching for Katniss, and then I saw her by the sofa, pacing. When she saw me, my plan to not cry immediately flew out the window because she'd already beaten me to it. Tears pricked my eyes as we immediately pulled each other into a hug, saying nothing. I could feel the wetness of her tears soaking my shirt, but I didn't care.

We stayed like that for two minutes, no doubt eating away into our time, but we both needed it desperately.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, pulling back and holding her at arm's length. "I wish it wasn't like this."

She swallowed thickly, meeting my eyes, and I tried to memorise every part of her face, just in case – like I would ever forget it anyway.

"Gale has probably given you all sorts of advice, but–"

"Listen," she cut me off, voice hoarse.

"What?"

As if coming to her senses, she sucked up a breath and wiped her tears away. "Don't take any tesserae, okay? Never."

Already, I was lost. "Katniss–"

"You have enough food," she snapped, the seconds ticking away and agitating her. "Gale is covering for Prim, so you won't need to spare any for her. She's also got her goat. She can sell cheese and–"

"Katniss–" I tried to cut off her rambling, but she grabbed my shoulders and squeezed them.

"Promise me!" she pleaded. "Now, Y/N!"

Sensing the desperation in her voice, I nodded. "Okay, I promise."

Her grip loosened. "Please keep walking Prim to and from school for me. Be there for her when I can't be. She's gonna need someone–"

"I will," I reassured her, grabbing her hands from my shoulders and earning her attention. "You know I will."

She pressed her lips together, nodding appreciatively before hugging me again. I rubbed her back comfortingly, though my heart was aching in my chest.

"You could win," I said into her shoulder. "You're the best hunter I know."

She shook her head defeatedly, so I pulled back to face her properly, afraid to let go of her hands.

"Try," I begged, eyes tearing up. "Please. No more goodbyes, remember?"

"I'll try," she agreed reluctantly, "but if I'm not back–"

"Don't say that."

She frowned, a tear slipping from her eyes as she looked between mine. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too," I said, kissing her hand. "I always will."

"No," she shook her head, "I'm in love with you."

With all the heightened emotions and fear of losing her, it took me a moment to acknowledge what she'd said. My eyebrows knitted together, and when I saw her blue eyes darkened with sadness, staring at me, I realised.

"What?"

The doors to the room slammed open suddenly, startling both Katniss and I, and then the peacekeeper approached me.

"Time's up," he stated, but my grip on Katniss' hands tightened.

"Wait, please, just wait," I begged him, before looking to Katniss. "Katniss–"

"Now!" the peacekeeper ordered, grabbing me by the shoulders and yanking me back, out of Katniss' grasp.

"Just one more minute!" Katniss shouted, but another peacekeeper came in and blocked her from doing anything.

It happened too quickly, the peacekeeper dragging me out and the doors closing behind me. I didn't even get to see Katniss one last time, her voice being cut off as the doors slammed shut. My head was reeling as they forced me downstairs and outside, trying to make sense of what just happened.

Katniss was in love with me? Since when? Why had she never told me before? Why did she wait until now?

During the Games, Gale and I did our best to be there for Prim and her mum. One of us would keep Prim company whilst her mum worked, either spending time at hers or inviting her to ours. After dinner, I'd always stop by to make sure they were both okay, and I'd watch as much of the Games as I could with them, knowing Prim needed the support.

The truth was though, I needed it too. It was difficult watching the screen, seeing my best friend paraded around the Capitol for entertainment. And when the Games actually began, it was even worse. I didn't want to watch, but I had to know how Katniss was doing, for a part of me still believed she could win.

Her words still rang in my mind, her declaration of love, if you could even call it that. I replayed the moment over and over, hating that she couldn't have said it sooner. Despising that I didn't say it back.

The star-crossed lovers of District 12 were thrown in the viewer's face every chance the Capitol got, and I wasn't sure what to make of it. Nobody was. Anyone with eyes could see that Peeta was truly and wholly in love with Katniss. I especially saw it, because I recognised it instantly, in myself. But Katniss never gave anything away, and even after all this time, as someone who knew her eerily well, I couldn't tell what she was feeling.

Of course, she led everyone to believe she loved him too, and as soon as a small part of me cringed with jealousy upon seeing them kiss, I immediately pushed it away. That was selfish of me, to be jealous when she was literally fighting for her life. I swore I'd never feel it again.

When the final moment of the Games arrived, both Peeta and Katniss were down to the final two and were going to eat the poisonous berries, ending it all. Prim gripped my hand so hard as we watched the screen, and I wanted so badly to shout at Katniss for even considering it. She had a chance to come home to her family and she was going to throw it away?

But deep down, I knew I could never understand. She wouldn't betray Peeta and she wasn't going to give the Capitol what they wanted. If this was it, her last moment, she was taking control. I shouldn't have expected anything less from Katniss Everdeen.

And then they announced the winners, the both of them, and it was the impossible finally happening. Prim, her mum, Gale and I – we were all in disbelief, then ecstatic that we were actually going to see her again, she was finally returning home!

A few days later, Gale and I were helping Prim and her mum prepare a welcome home meal for her, anticipating her arrival. Whilst Gale and I finished off the last bits such as setting the table, Prim and her mum went to collect Katniss from the train station. And I didn't realise how nervous I was until I almost knocked a glass off the table and Gale caught it.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked with concern, before offering me a small smile. "It's okay now, Y/N. She's finally home."

I swallowed hard, allowing myself to smile a little too. But he didn't know what our final exchange had been – I hadn't told anyone – and he couldn't know how much I was overthinking seeing her again. It didn't matter though, as the time to dwell on it was gone when the front door opened and revealed the Everdeens together again after all this time.

"...have a lovely meal prepared for you," Prim was saying as they walked in. "And Y/N and Gale are here too!"

Katniss smiled softly as her sister spoke excitedly, and then her eyes flickered up, scanning the room before they fell upon Gale and I with amazement.

"Hey, Catnip," Gale greeted with a boyish grin, before stepping forward to hug her.

She immediately wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly, and I tried not to overthink as I stepped forward too. Would we pretend nothing had been said and return to how we were? Was I supposed to bring it up? Was she?

The two of them pulled apart, talking, but I wasn't really listening as I got a better look at her. She looked different, like the version of Katniss I'd seen on the TV – the Capitol's version. They must have filmed her homecoming earlier as she was wearing Capitol clothes – a quality blouse and trousers – and her makeup was done, though not as extravagant as it had been in the interviews; no, it was much more natural, only accentuating what beauty she already had. Even her hair was different, left out and curled over her shoulders, pinned back with some expensive looking slides.

She was almost intimidating, but then hers and Gale's conversation ended, and her familiar blue eyes were on mine, and any preconceived notions I had didn't matter anymore because she was still Katniss, and she was back.

"Hey," I breathed out, smiling softly.

She returned my smile and we both hugged each other without another word. I swallowed hard as I closed my eyes, trying not to betray my fear as I clutched her tightly, but I was certain she could feel my shaking. Well, it was either me or her, because we were trembling.

"I see you kept your promise," I said once we pulled apart, and she seemed momentarily confused, so I added, "You tried. You won."

She exhaled in a way that was a stifled laugh without amusement. "Right. I suppose I did."

I had so much more to say, but none of it would escape my mouth. It didn't matter though, as Prim was calling us from the kitchen table and then we were both taking our seats and there was just no time right now.

It was a lovely evening, the four of us indulging on a treat from Greasy Sae, the district's resident cook who adored Katniss, and catching Katniss up on some developments she'd missed since she'd gone. Nobody brought up the Games for obvious reasons, but there was chatter of them all moving into the Victor's Village tomorrow.

It was a dedicated gated community in every district where victors of the Games and their families moved into following their win. The Everdeens were due to move tomorrow and Prim and Mrs Everdeen were excited to have somewhere with heating and hot water and everything District 12 dreamed of. Katniss, on the other hand, had nothing to say on the matter, and I could see the distant look in her eyes as they spoke. She wasn't too happy to move, it seemed. This place was her home, no matter what.

I hadn't realised how late it was, how long we'd sat talking after we ate, until Gale excused himself for the evening. I knew I should have gone too, but it felt wrong to leave their kitchen a mess when I'd eaten in it.

"Oh, Y/N, you really don't need to do that," Mrs Everdeen was saying as I began to stack the plates, bringing them to the kitchen sink basin.

"It won't take long," I assured her. "Please, let me do this and I'll be out of your hair." She was about to retort, but I nodded to Prim who was lying on her shoulder tiredly. "You should get her to bed."

Reluctantly, Mrs Everdeen gave in with a nod and led her youngest to her bedroom. I glanced at Katniss as I collected the glasses from the table she was still sat at.

"You must be tired too," I said, leaving the glasses in the sink.

She stood up, watching me closely. "I can't believe you're here."

I suppressed a smile. "I could say the same about you."

She wasn't amused by my joke, but distracted again. She'd been checked out for the latter end of dinner, but I'd put it down to tiredness. Clearly, I was mistaken.

"Katniss?"

I waited, raising an eyebrow, and then she kissed me hard. Her lips were soft, though her approach was desperate, and I found myself kissing her back, shivering as her hands settled on my waist. My back hit the edge of the kitchen table abruptly, and I was losing my breath in the urgency of it all, and then I had to pull away. She didn't let go of me as she caught her breath, eyes finding mine.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she murmured, and it was very unlike her.

Her breath tickled my lips as I asked, "Why didn't you?"

She clenched her jaw, shaking her head, the words not coming out.

My eyes drifted from her eyes to her flushed cheeks to her swollen lips. Nervously, I said, "I wasn't sure if–" An anxious pause. "After everything, when you told me you–"

"The thing with Peeta was an act for the Capitol," she explained suddenly.

That familiar jealousy, the one I'd worked so hard to never feel again, resurfaced and was soon replaced with guilt, especially upon seeing her expression. "You don't need to explain, Katniss."

She shook her head in disagreement, eyes meeting mine with a newfound confidence. "I know, but– I need you to know that I was only doing it to keep us both alive. And the whole time, I was thinking of you."

I was surprised at her boldness, her honesty and ease of sharing her feelings. It was so unlike her, a maturity she'd grown in her time away.

"How long?" I asked, tilting my head. "Since when?"

"You remember last winter? When you stupidly used your tesserae to help me?"

My breath caught in my throat, the memory painful. I thought I'd lost her last winter.

"I couldn't lose you," she continued. "The irony was I ended up in the Games, but knowing you endangered yourself for me then, and that you could've been chosen... it made me realise how much you meant to me. More than a friend. And then the reaping happened and I volunteered and I knew it was my last chance to tell you. I didn't mean to put it all on you, but I needed you to know."

I breathed out slowly, digesting her words. I could see the nervousness in her expression, her patiently waiting for my response as she looked down. This must have been difficult for her to share, but it only warmed my heart more, knowing she'd done so for me.

"I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember," I finally admitted my own feelings, ones I thought I'd have to keep to myself forever.

She looked up at this, hopeful, and I began to smile through my tears. The fact that she was here, alive, and that she was telling me all I'd ever wanted to hear, was getting to me more than I realised.

"Come here," I said, not meaning for it to come out as a whisper, and hugged her tightly. "I missed you so much, Katniss."

Her arms wrapped around my waist, head tucking into my shoulder, and I felt her lips move against my shirt as she said, "I missed you too."

[preciadosbass]

28/7/14 [draft from yesterday]

woke up at 11:47 to my parents in my doorway. mum started putting stuff on my bed but i though it was just stuff of mine that id left around the house but it turned out she’d bought me some stuff which is really nice. she got me socks [because i only have one non-fluffy pair], slippers [because our dogs hair is everywhere and my pyjamas end up getting the hair all over the house, even after the place has been hoovered], and purple trainers [because beforehand i only had my converse + knee high converse, and they were both getting muddy and causing me blisters when i go on walks.] i feel extra bad about the argument we had last night now.

i was super tired and my eyes still felt like they were glued shut but i decided not to go back to sleep. i got a little anxious when i saw my ex bestfriend was sad so i sent him a message telling him that i’m here for him and stuff. i still care about him so much, even if we don’t talk anymore. i watched a mikey way complication and listened to a podcast with the way brothers on up until 1:20 when i had a nap [im lazy, i know]

i should mention, i had the weirdest dream. so excuse how bad this explanation is going to be. me and kellin [quinn] were both teens and we were at a restaurant. he had tacky plastic skates on and started doing backflips in them? and running on the spot and joking about being chased? it was such a strange dream to have, especially because i haven’t had one in ages. also, my dad was there for some reason lmaoo

i woke up at around 2 and stayed with boris until 3:20 before i had something to eat and started researching a few crime cases. id been thinking about reading a bit of my sylvia plath book but i got in another argument with my parents [not really with my dad] and practically went into sensory overload so i went in my room and scrolled through ed related things on reddit. although i just wanted to have a conversation with them.

my dad lets things go easier, but mum tends to start saying ‘maybe you’d be happy if i’m not here’ and stuff like that, which i have never and would never imply to her. it just makes me feel like shit, she acts like i’m not allowed to be mad. and i feel absolutely terrible writing this, especially because of the whole gift thing from earlier, and i know shes probably just stressed, and i love her, but nobody acknowledges that i am too. they never do, whatever i do seems to anger my mum. anyway, i spiralled writing this and i don’t wanna turn it into a complete vent post, so let’s carry on.

i carried on scrolling through reddit until like 8 where i went on a walk with all of my family [which we haven’t done in at least a year]. didn’t get off to a good start because the second i walked outside my sister dropped her phone on our rock driveway and smashed her phone to pieces.

she was arguing about paying for the damage up until we got to the park when she went back home with my dad. me and my mum carried on walking while we did would you rather because anything else was starting an argument. we ended up doing so right before we got home but at least i walked for an hour today, i wish it’d been more though. also at one point she asked me if i was questioning my gender like WHAT?? why didn’t i take the opportunity to tell her ffs.. when i got home i obviously said hi to boris and then scrolled on twitter for a bit.

one of my acquaintance’s [i call anyone my age that i know that, because i know people, but they’re not nice to me whatsoever, we don’t hang out, they bully me, i don’t consider them a friend etc] was being their usual self again. i try everything i can to politely escape them/avoid them but i just don’t know how. id feel bad cutting contact with no explanation but if i told them all the disgusting things they do they’d deny it. but i know i have to at some point, they’re such a bad person and i’m tired of putting up with them.

anyway, i feel like i seem like a bitch for not liking them, and the problem in every scenario i’ve written about today so let me know if anyone actually reads this and wants to know what makes her such a bad person. after seeing that i listened to some evanescence and i was just about to put on my fight club dvd i got from a bootsale a while ago when my dad said he was ready for me to ask questions about boris soon so i went up to their room.

we actually didn’t argue tonight because i was able to get on with it quite quickly so i did my teeth and said goodnight to boris around 3. he again started purring before id even started stroking him, he’s so precious. also went over my cals by like 60 today so that sucks

have a good day/night -_<

[graciegoeskrazy]

idea - what do you think it would be like when charli first introduced george to her daughter??? the idea has been pingponging in my head for a bit. ALSO! how do you think george would feel/react

LOVE THIS

Y'all had actually met before when him, matty and your mom were working together on the vocals for 'spinning'

the plan was kind of last minute so you had no choice but to come to the studio with your mom - not that you minded at all

you had heard about the band before but knew very little about them or the band

other than the fact that your mom was a fan and admired them

They were nice, your mom sounded beautiful as always, you mainly stayed quiet and scrolled on your phone because you knew they more than likely only had one night to do this and didn't want to be in the way and you were content watching random things on tiktok

you all said goodbye, it was fun, songs a hit, yay that's it

right?

WRONG THEY START DAITING

it wasnt official official for awhile but they were texting nonstop and clearly something was happening they just didn't know what exactly

as much as she didn't talk about it or swore against it you didn't miss how she smiled nearly everytime she got a notification or how the one time you caught a glance at it the contact said "George💚"

which you thought was interesting

the truth was that even though Charli really really liked George and vise versa they were both busy as hell and currently on opposite sides of the country and they didn't want to tell you until they knew for sure and were able to actually see each other

especially because your mom and broken up with her long time boyfriend not that long ago

and hurt you too

a lot

eventually the NME awards were taking place

and you were your mums date!

at the table you noticed her friend give a suggestive nod to somewhere on the other side of the room to which your mom sighed and smiled and shook her head no

"what?" you asked

"oh its nothing darling. I was just trying to get you mom to say hi to a familiar face. that's all."

Charli slapped her friends leg under the table

you realized the table she was nodding to was the one George and the band were at

you also realized she was staring back and forth the whole night

he was too

iwishyoudtalktalkwishyoudtalktalkwishyoudtalktalk

anywhooooo cut to a few days later

your mom was throwing another party or whatever

and said she needed to talk to you

"someone very special to me to gonna come over tomorrow during the party-"

"Its George."

she was FLABERGASTED

like she thought she did a good job of hiding everything from you all this time but guess not!

"What?!"

"It's George. You're talking about George. He's the 'someone special' right?" you said giving a smirk

her jaw was on the floor

"How do you know that? Who told you that?!"

you just gave her a look and said "Im young not dumb and oblivious mom."

She just smiled so big and pulled you into a hug.

okay so as if its a surprise to anyone - George is a nervous wreck :)

like practically pacing

Its not like the whole point of this party was for you and George to meet

and like more than half of the people there didn't even know they were dating

and charli and george weren't even sure if you were going to make an appearance

but ya did

You knew him and your mom were anxious about the meeting so u decided to have fun with it

you waited till you mom left the kitchen and it was just George and a couple of other people who weren't paying attention

You grabbed a drink and a small plate of food dropping a casual "hey George." as you did it

you could sense his heart rate quickening it was halarious

He cleared his throat, "Hey, y/n. How've you been."

You shrugged "Fine...You've been busy though?"

"Y/n Aitchison." You mom sternly said form behind startiling you

you said "sorry" and gave him a genuine smile before heading back upstairs

They both laughed so hard once you left

He was nice it wasnt like you would mess with his tooooo much

....

........

just a little bit maybe

it could be worse

she could be dating matty

[wosowrites]

Sleeper (Man United x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️talk of trauma, sexu@l @ssault⚠️

a/n: if you are uncomfortable with the topic of sexu@l @ssault, skip the first paragraph. based off this request here

prompt: in which the reader has trouble sleeping at night, so she sleeps everywhere else. her team finds it adorable and are always filming and adding pictures of her to their stories.

It was known to the United girls that you didn’t sleep at night, or at least, not well. With the night, came demons of your past. With the darkness of the setting sun, came the faces of your mothers boyfriends, committing monstrosities on you. They knew about your childhood, you had told them about it after a year with the team, explaining to them the reason of your constant sleepiness.

However, your lack of sleep never seemed to affect your game. You would get a ride to training from Alessia or Ona in the morning, sleep in the car, sleep in the changing room, and then run around and score goals like a max woman during practice. And then the second it was over, you would fall asleep on the side of the pitch. Then you would go to the house of one of the girls to get sleep in an actual bed, before going to your own house and pulling yet another all nighter.

In complete honesty, your teammates were heartbroken that you couldn’t sleep at night, but they did find the fact that you felt comfortable to sleep around them. Or more like… you only felt comfortable to sleep around them. One thing you had never done though, despite the amount of times you had fallen asleep in their presence, was fall asleep on them. You felt as though that was the limit, no sleeping on teammates. It wasn’t just that either, you had never been good with touch. There were maybe two people in the whole world that you still talked too today that you had hugged. Your childhood best friend and your sister. You didn’t talk to your mother. She had known about the men, she had done nothing.

You were 20, one of the youngest on the team, and today marked 4 years since you had talked to your mother. Having gone pro at 16, starting off at Wolfsburg in your home country, you had decided to cut all ties to your mum. It was for the best. But it did hurt you, it did haunt your mind, and it most definitely made it that on that night, you were even more awake than usual.

When Ona picked you up the morning of that day, she expected you to sleep as usual, but you just stared forward.

"Que pasa? What’s wrong mi amor?" Ona asked, looking over at you fleetingly. She had always been welcoming, taking you under her wing immediately. "Mhm. I’m okay. Not tired," you lied, focusing on the trees in the horizon. "I see through you, you know. I know when you lie to me," she said, a little bluntly.

Her words took you off guard, making you look at her with raised eyebrows. "You do now?" you said, smiling. "Yes! I do! Now what is it? We have a game later today. It’s Arsenal. You need to be on your best. You need sleep," Ona said, pulling into the training center where a team bus was stationed. "It’s been four years since I’ve talked to my mother. It hurts… knowing that. I dont know," you said, trying to brush off the topic as you exited the car.

You looked at Ona over the roof of her small vehicle, smiling at her sadly. You walked around the car to be beside her, and she linked her pinky with yours. Her way to say she was there for you, without too much contact.

You smiled at your hands sadly, wishing you could just hug her.

In the bus, you sat beside Mary, as always. She was like a mother to you. Fatigue was overcoming you, and you wanted nothing more but to sleep, although you felt as though today… maybe past demons would come haunt your night, even if you were surrounded by the people you loved most. Waking up yelling and crying would not be the way to go.

But despite how strong, resilient and hard headed you were, you could not will sleep away, and eventually, it got the better of you. You had only closed your eyes for a split second, and then out of nowhere, you were out.

"It’s good she’s asleep, she didn’t sleep in the car today," Ona said to Mary. They were both sitting in the aisle seats, Ona beside Lucia. "She didn’t sleep in the car? She always sleeps in the car," Mary said, glancing over at your lolling head that had gently hit against the window. "Did I hear you say she didn’t sleep in the car?" Alessia said from behind Ona, poking her head between Mary and Ona and taking off her headphones. "She didn’t sleep in the car?!" Ella said rather loudly, jumping up and looking over at you from beside Lessi. "Ella!" Alessia scowled, telling off her best friend. "Sorry," she whispered.

They all watched you, some of the other girls looking towards the kurfuffle from their teammates that were in the back of the bus. Their eyes on you, it was impossible to miss your next action. You gently breathed in and then exhaled, fidgeting in your seat in a drowsy manner until gently letting your head fall onto Mary’s shoulder.

Mary’s eyes widened and she slowly looked back to the girls, not wanting to disturb you. "Oh my god," she whispered.

Everyone was freaking out silently, excited you now felt complete comfortable with at least one of them. "Take a video! Take a video!" Alessia said, even though she was the only one holding her phone. "You take a video! My phone is in my bag!" Ona whisper yelled. "Right!

Alessia quickly opened the camera app and got out of her seat to film and take a couple pictures.

"She’s such a baby, look at her all peaceful," Lucia chipped in. "Okay, let’s let her rest in peace, we need her for the game today. Our little energizer bunny," Mark said, having come over to see what everyone was freaking out about.

They all nodded but Mark kept looking at you for a split second. "Huh. Well that’s new, isn’t it?" he said, smiling gently and walking off.

You didn’t move away from Mary the whole ride to London, only closer. The game was at 6:00, and the team would arrive at the stadium at 4:30. It was 3:30 when you woke up. Your head was still on the english keeper’s shoulder, but your body was pressed completely against her. Needless to say that you had been enjoying the unfamiliar presence of another humans body. Not in a weird way, just in a comforting way.

Your eyes fluttered open gently. It took you a couple seconds to ground yourself. You realized you were leaning on something, or more like, someone. And that the someone was holding her phone and scrolling on tik tok. And that the someone was Mary. Your head jolted off her shoulder, eyes wide and body tense. What were you supposed to say? Apologize? Ignore it?

"Im sorry- I didn’t sleep in the car and I-" you started stuttering. "No! Hey! It’s okay! It’s good. It’s really good," Mary said gently, tucking a strand of your loose hair behind your ear and smiling at you gently. "Yeah?" you said, your heart stopping its race. "Yes. Most definitely," she said.

"Okay," you said, smiling gently. You laid your back on the chair again as Mary looked back at her phone. You looked forward to the back of the other chair, and slowly, gently, rested your head on Mary’s shoulder again. You couldn’t see her face, but she was smiling wildly.

The media manager filmed you and the united girls as you walked out of the bus. You fist bumped the camera as always and then kept walking.

You made your way into the away locker room and went to your cubby between Ona and Aoife, as María was injured.

"Okay girls. Change into your kit and warmup jersey and then we’ll go over the game plan and starting lineup before heading out for warmup on the field," Mark said.

The girls nodded and Mark walked out to let you all change.

Another thing that had been hard for you was changing. You didn’t have visible scars, but the emotional ones were there. But with knowing the girls, it ended up coming easily. The first time you changed without hesitation, the girls noticed. They noticed silently, and didn’t ever say anything about it, but you knew they were proud of you.

You put on your warmup long sleeve and shorts, then your socks and cleats and you taped your wrist to cover up two bracelets you refused to take off.

Then, Mark came back in when everyone was decent, armed with a white board.

"Okay ladies. Our game plan today is simple. Possession. We will win by keeping the ball, and taking strategic shots. I don’t want to see any wild balls from the half, okay. Pass through their defence, and then shoot. That’s the only thing we can do to beat a team like Arsenal, you hear me?" Skinner said as all the girls nodded. "Okay. Starting lineup. Mearps, Ona, Hannah, Tooney, Katie, Leah, y/n, Maya, Lucia, Millie, Alessia. Let’s go girls. We win, we’re on top of the table instead of third."

You all cheered and then walked out onto the field. Fans were already in the stadium, a sea of red. But Arsenal red, not United red. You saw a few away fans in the corner, holding up a huge United flag, and you nodded at them and waved.

Warmup seemed to go by in a hurry, and soon enough, you had taken the team picture and gotten ready for kickoff.

The game did not go smoothly. Arsenal won 3-1, everyone was super annoyed, but somehow, Mark wasn’t. "You played the way I told you too. You passed through their defence, and thought strategically, but Arsenal is good. Really good. We’re still in this race. Let’s go home, sleep on the bus, just take a minute.

Everyone climbed onto the bus in annoyed silence. Mary was pissed, and although she didn’t say anything, you knew she wanted to be alone. So you took a seat in a free spot by yourself. Or at least, you thought it would be just you. "Lucia kicked me out, wanted all the room to sleep," Ona said, looking at you with her puppy dog eyes. "C’mere then, i’ll show Lucia what she’s missing," you joked, moving your bag and getting out of the area to let Ona have the window seat. She loved the window seat.

"You know me too well," she said, sitting at the window seat. You sat back down next to her. "Good goal, by the way," Ona said to you. "Thanks. Wish I could have gotten more," you said, licking your lips. "No, don’t do that. Don’t put that on yourself," Ona said. "Because you would let me say that I could have defended better and you wouldn’t let Mary say she could have saved those shots," Ona told you, trying to get you too look at her.

You eventually made eye contact with her. "Come here," Ona said.

She didn’t really think, the fact that you didn’t like touch slipping her mind. She patted her lap, realizing her mistake a few seconds later. But by then, you were already shifting your position so that your head and shoulders rested on her lap. You bent your knees and rested your hand on Ona’s lap. She was taken aback for a second before gently placing her coat on you as a blanket. It smelt like you.

Ona took a picture of you, posting it to her story and then adding it to an album she had. In it, dozens of videos and pictures of you sleeping in odd places. In the trunk of a car, on the side of the pitch, in the stands at a men’s united football game, in the alley of a parked coach bus. She found it hilarious, all your United girls did.

[callmewrinkles3]

Fresh Ink

Summary: Dan decides to get a new tattoo that Em has inspired. She decides to be a little more spontaneous.

A/N: we don’t have a full oneshot, so have a lil drabble we’ve been keeping close to our chests!

August 2018

In the short time she’d spent with Dan, Em learned to not be surprised by the weird ways their days could go. From sitting on the couch for a lazy day, to being surprised with a trip to see the Reputation tour, anything could and did happen. Which was why she wasn’t surprised when she got a text from Dan saying he was going to get a new tattoo and wanted her to come with him. Daniel “I’ll just get a big one and then no more” Ricciardo getting a tattoo wasn’t a new thing and she loved the ink already on his body and the differences in the artwork they both had. But what did surprise her was what he was getting.

A couple of weeks before she’d sent him a text before a race. She was up watching and it had been a shitty practice and qualifying, the car kept failing on him. Her little Shine on, Handsome, text was supposed to just make him smile. She didn’t want to call and distract him, or wish him luck make him think his performance was what she cared about. She didn’t expect his little heart emoji response to make her grin and giggle like a kid. But her Sky Sports subscription was on the telly and she watched with rapt attention until he had yet another DNF and she wanted to throw something at the stupid car that kept failing him.

But they never mentioned the text after that. Not that Sunday night when he arrived at her front door with flowers and his suitcase. Not the next day when he kissed her goodbye before going to the sim and coming back to her that night. It was too easy to spend time together.

But he’d come back early from his summer break to spend time with her and had dragged her to a fancy tattoo shop in the middle of London to show her the perfectly printed font for her text. The “shine on” that was going onto his bicep where everyone could see it and she felt stupidly proud of it. He’d just asked if she wanted to be there while he got a new one and surprised her when they got to the shop. If he hadn’t mentioned that he knew the owner the tears might have come out in pride but she held them back.

“You are actually insane, you know that. Right?”

“I drive a car hundreds of kilometres an hour every single week. We knew that.” He grinned and gave her a shrug as the rest of his answer.

They were waiting for the tattoo artist to finish setting up as she looked in the glass showcase of piercings. The only ones she had were the gold studs in her earlobes. She’d had them since she was a kid and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually changed the studs in them. She just liked looking at shiny things and ended up staring at a tiny little nose stud with a small opal on it. The colours hit it and showed the iridescent sheen and she loved looking at it while Dan was talking to someone she didn’t know. At least he was until an arm went around her shoulder and his lips were against her temple.

“Find something you like? Cause I just found someone I really like.” He smiled against her ear, whispering lowly so only she could hear. “Gonna get a new one? You’d look cute with a tragus, or maybe something in your upper cartilage.”

“Nah, not really. Besides I don’t even want to know how much one of those cost here.” It was only half a joke as she glanced up at Dan and then back to the accessories.

“Did you plan to get a new one? You’ve loads of space in your ears for whatever you want.”

“Ha, no, I’m too cool for that now. I mean I always wanted to get my nose pierced. Mum would have killed me if I did it when I was younger and now I’m too old for it.” Her mother’s words echoed around her head that she’d look like a cow with a ring in her nose, how would anyone ever want to marry her with it? She shook her head a little to try get it away from her.

“You just turned 28. I’m barely 29. Are you calling us old?” It was mostly a joke.

“Definitely.”

“Meanie.” He squeezed her shoulder to soften the word. “But you should get it. You’d look really good with a nostril piercing. A little gold hoop would be cute and match the rest of your jewellery.”

“What if I don’t like it?” That knot of anxiety bubbled up a little.

“You take it out and let it heal over. It’ll leave a tiny mark that nobody will see. The only person who gets close enough to see something like that is me, and I won’t care about it.”

“Who told you that you’re the only one who gets that close?” It was said jokingly but she saw how he stiffened slightly.

“Hey!”

“I’m joking!” He was still tense and she squeezed his arm. “I’m joking, Danny. You really think it’ll suit me?”

“You’re gorgeous anyway but it’ll look good on you. Plus, there’s one there with a shiny lavender opal so I call it destiny.” He pointed at the exact one she was looking at.

“And I’m calling you a bad influence.”

“I’m a bad influence who’ll hold your hand when the needle gets close to your face. Sound good?”

“And I’ll hold your hand when you’re getting your tattoo?”

“See, teamwork.” He turned around and called someone over. “Em wants to get her nose pierced, do you have space?”

She grinned and started filling out the paperwork, signing it and picking out the temporary jewellery while it healed. And true to his word, Dan held her hand for the entire time.