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#too depressed to workout
13eyond13 · 6 months
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#here's some of the classics on that list i have beef with btw:#i have tried to read A Confederacy of Dunces several times and it's funny but it's also so cringe and Ignatius is so obnoxious#that i find it too difficult to finish like i just feel depressed and bad for everybody around him too much#i tried reading Infinite Jest like a decade ago and i got like 200 pages in and i remember thinking it felt like#such a slog the entire time because he's just so gd wordy and also i stopped liking DFW after i heard the abuse allegations against him#frankenstein i didnt read that long ago but i just remember finding it so boring for some reason?? i feel i might need to read it again#dracula ngl i feel like im cheating a bit saying ive completely read it because i loved the beginning and then HATED so much of the rest#the characters were just so boring and melodramatic hahaha i just liked the part where jonathan was doing a travel diary#and trapped in the castle tbh and after that i skimmed quite a bit#i almost flipped my shit when i saw ender's game on there because I ALWAYS mix it up with ready player one by ernest cline#which i bought the audiobook of a while back and hated every minute of it i dont think its good at all#but it wasnt that so phew my faith in this list is somewhat restored#i read most of the first game of thrones book and was disappointed tbh maybe because id seen the show already#so i was like 'this feels almost exactly the same except worse?' because i'd been expecting it to give me more depth and insight#into the characters but instead it felt exactly the same and i still didnt love any of the characters enough to feel attached to them#also i am fully aware me not personally liking or vibing with a book doesnt mean it doesnt deserve to be considered great btw#but i think if youre gonna be like me and force yourself to go through a bunch of lists like this very seriously then you also need to just#let yourself be like 'yeah not for me' without feeling too bad about it sometimes too#often times i dont particularly love the classics or 'important books' but at the same time#i still feel like im getting more out of reading them than just grabbing the newest hyped up books that also dont do anything for me#maybe not in a 'wow i loved reading this' way but in like a#'i now have first-hand knowledge of this thing that is so influential / so frequently referenced'#or 'this challenged me and i feel like i did a mental/emotional workout or gave me some new food for thought'#or 'made me more aware of what gaps in my knowledge and reading skills and what my tastes are too'#sort of way...#it really just depends on what you're reading for and why and what you're hoping to get out of it a lot of the time maybe#it's like the homework i give myself to go through these lists that i also intersperse with the stuff i read more just for fun#p
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toastsnaffler · 11 months
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they should make a november that doesn't make me want to kill myself
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So unfortunately exercise does help, horrible news
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Should probably get off my ass and draw soon. So my mind can stop going into a depressive overdrive.
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all-i-do-is-try1 · 7 months
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I actually had crazy muscles and strength when I was my sickest. Had amazing core strength, flexibility, and energy. and Now I can barely lift weights or do one sit up.
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how-gross · 8 months
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Anyways I’m gonna have to pull a bunch of all-nighters this week 😁😁
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wondersinwaynemanor · 4 months
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at the Watchtower
~
Batman, currently having an intense workout at the gym.
Green Arrow, enters the area: Adding more muscles on you, Bats? Don't you have enough on you?
Batman, briefly glances in Green Arrow's direction: Hn.
Batman does cardio for a while before disappearing to the showers to freshen up, leaving Green Arrow confused.
-
Batman, eating in peace at the cafeteria.
Flash, suddenly zooms in front of the table: Slow down on the protein, Bats. Leave some for us.
Batman, narrows his eyes at his teammate, clearly bothered by the disturbance.
Flash, gulps, before running away: Forget I said anything. Byeee!
~
Superman: Did Batman just jog around the tower for 3 hours?
Wonder Woman: It's more than that.
Superman, calls for Batman, when he passes by them: You preparing for an off world mission that we don't know about, Batman?
Wonder Woman waits for a reply, hands on her hips.
Batman, growls: None of your business.
Superman and Wonder Woman exchange a look and just let him be.
Superman: He must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.
Wonder Woman, smiles: I think I have an idea on what's happening.
--
at the Manor:
~
his kids noticing his workout routine as well.
Dick: Ooooh, you trying to impress a special someone, B?
Cass: You don't have a condition, right?
Steph: It's not depression, right?
Damian: You signed up for a marathon, Father?
Duke: Is this involving your next mission with the Justice League?
Jason: Bane giving you a hard time, old man?
Tim: You're not missing a spleen too, right?
Bruce, sighs: None of the above.
Bruce: As you are all grown up now, I need some extra strength to carry you when you need me for anything.
there is a brief silence as his kids internalize on what he said.
Dick: Awww, B is getting soft in his old age.
Cass just smiles.
Steph: Woah. Bruce must have been doused with cheesiness or something.
Damian: Tt. We appreciate it, Father, but don't over work yourself.
Duke: Dami's right. We can handle ourselves, Bruce.
Jason: Ugh. I didn't come back from the dead for this.
Tim: As long as you're not missing any body part like me.
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soaps-mohawk · 5 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 17: Alone
Summary: Your pack has left on their first deployment since you joined them, leaving you alone on base.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 6,866
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, nightmares, PTSD, trauma, just super depressing overall.
A/N: I'm so ready for these next two chapters, you have no idea. Things are happening, things are gonna happen, it's just...so good. You'll see 🤭. They're pretty heavy chapters emotionally, but don't worry fluff will be coming very soon. I won't leave you hanging too much for too long.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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“We'll only be gone for a few days. A week at most. Dr. Keller will take you to and from meals and anywhere else you may need to go. If you need anything, contact Kate. We'll call when we can.” 
He leaves you with a kiss to your forehead. You’re forced to stand there and watch his back as he boards the plane, the ramp closing and sealing you off from them. They all looked guilty, as if it was their fault they had to leave, as if they were suffering as much as you at the idea of parting, even just for a short period of time.
You don't sleep that night. You lay in your bed and stare at the ceiling until far too late when you decide to abandon it for John's room instead. You slip under the covers, disrupting the immaculately made bed as you surround yourself with his scent. You’re on edge, the barracks far too quiet, far too empty. Every little sound has you tensing, holding your breath. The door is locked, yet it’s not the same without your pack there to protect you. If you scream, no one will hear you now. 
You manage to fall asleep at some point in the early hours, your mind plagued with horrible nightmares of monsters devouring and tearing you apart. 
You wake with the sun, dragging your feet back to your room. You miss the quiet sounds of your boys getting ready in the morning after their workouts, taking extra care not to be too loud. Now you wish for it. You want them to be loud and wake you, because then they’d be here with you. The hallway feels too empty, the barracks too large. You’ve spent plenty of time alone in the barracks, but it’s never felt like this. They’re not just across base from you, they’re probably in an entirely different country. 
You stare at their closed doors, all four of them feeling like voids knowing the rooms behind them are empty. Even Ghost’s closed door feels particularly empty. 
You shuffle into your room, locking the door behind you as you get ready for the day. You’re not quite sure what you’re going to do, now that you don’t have them around. You suppose you could just go about your day as you usually do while they’re at training, except you won’t have their inevitable return to fetch you for meals to look forward to. 
It’ll be days before you see them again. 
If you see them again. 
You force that thought back into the recesses of your mind. You won’t entertain it, not now while you’re still trying to process the fact that they’re gone. Even if it is a possibility. 
You’re sitting on your bed when the knock comes, clutching your phone in your hand. You don’t want to be without it, in case they call. You don’t want to miss a chance to talk to them, especially if it’s your only chance. Or a call from Kate telling you something happened.
You open the door, Dr. Keller standing in the hallway with a small smile on her face. It doesn’t feel strange having her in this space, even with the rest of your pack gone. She’s been here before, and you trust her. 
“How are you doing?” She asks as you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. 
“I don’t know.” You say, letting out a sigh. “I couldn’t sleep last night.” 
“I don’t blame you. Feels strange, being alone here, huh?” 
You nod. “Yeah. It’s too quiet. Too empty.” 
“I bet.” You follow her out of the barracks and into the cool morning air. “Let’s get some food in you and then you can take it easy for the rest of the day. I know this is a big adjustment, and it happened rather suddenly.” 
“Was gonna happen eventually, though.” You say. “For the three months I was with the CIA, they drilled it into my head that their job would always take priority over everything else. Still sucks.” 
“It does. Separation is hard for everyone in a pack, even if it’s short term. Add on the stress of their jobs and I can only imagine what it’s like.” 
“I’m trying not to think about that.” You say. 
“I think that’s the best thing you can do right now.” She squeezes your arm. “Come on, we’ll get the food to go and we’ll eat in my office. I usually do that anyway. It’s much quieter than the mess.” 
You get your breakfast, following Dr. Keller to the medical center. You are silently glad you won’t have to eat in the mess without the protection of your pack. The stares from the others might have been your tipping point, and without Ghost to scare them off, you’re sure it would have only been worse.  
“Make yourself at home.” Dr. Keller says, letting you into her office. “You can sit at the desk to eat, if that’s more comfortable. I don’t mind.” 
You take her up on the offer, sitting in the chair across from hers at the desk. She moves some papers out of the way before taking a seat herself. It feels almost strange, being so informal in her office, but then again, she’s always been more laid back with the formality between the two of you. 
“If there’s one thing I miss, it’s good diner food.” Dr. Keller says as the two of you begin to eat. 
You stare down at your porridge for a moment, having gotten used to the change in food over the last almost nine weeks. “I miss a lot of things.” 
“Would you ever want to go back and visit America?” Dr. Keller asks. 
You shrug. “I don’t know.” 
“I’m sure they’d take you, if you asked.” She smiles as you stare up at her in surprise. “I don’t think there’s much they wouldn’t do, if you asked. They care about you a lot.” 
“I’m starting to realize that.” You say. 
“Good. It’s reassuring to see such strong, natural bonds forming between all of you, despite how the situation came about. You’ve made a lot of good progress already, even with the few bumps in the road.” 
It falls silent between the two of you as you eat, finishing your breakfast. Your stomach churns with anxiety, hand closing around the phone in your pocket as if it might ring at any moment. It makes you sick, the thought of what they might be doing, what might be happening right at this very moment. 
“Can I ask you something?” You break the silence, needing to take your mind off your swirling thoughts. 
“Of course.” She says, looking up from the papers she’d been looking through. 
“Since I’m your only patient, what do you do all day?” You ask. 
She smiles. “I do a lot of things. After our sessions I log the notes I take and read over them, I make sure your medical chart is up to date, I read through a lot of studies and journals on new research and methods that may be helpful, I talk to colleagues all over the world, including here on base, and I sometimes go around the medical center and sit in on meetings and classes to keep my skills sharp.” 
“Do you ever feel like you’re wasting your skills here?” 
She shakes her head. “No. Before I took this job, I was caring for sometimes over one hundred omegas at various institutes. It was a high stress environment with long hours. While it was fulfilling work, there’s a high turnover rate for Omega Specialists in that field for a reason. Being a private doctor is a bit of a relief after that, and truthfully, the pay is considerably better.” She folds her arms on her desk, leaning forward. “It’s no less fulfilling than working at institutes. It’s nice to have the time to put together the best care plan for you and your needs.” 
“It is nice having an Omega Specialist to myself.” You say. “There were several at the institute, a lot of students doing their residency. They weren’t always...good at their jobs. A lot of them were just going through the motions, doing what the more experienced specialists told them to do.” 
“Unfortunately that’s rather common with residents.” She says. “Most of them don’t make it past residency. Like a lot of specialities in medicine, it takes a certain kind of personality to succeed as an Omega Specialist. Not everyone has it in them. I wish more schools and programs would take notice earlier before they get to their residencies and steer them down a different path.” She smiles at you. “Now my question for you. Would you rather hang out in here today, or would you prefer to go back to the barracks? You won’t hurt my feelings either way, nor will you be a bother.” 
You think about it for a moment. While your knee jerk answer is to go back to the barracks, what are you going to do? Sit alone in the silence and worry until it makes you sick? Sit in the rec room and watch TV alone and worry about your boys until the next meal time? As much as you want to be alone, you also don’t want to be alone. 
“I’d...like to stay here, if that’s okay?” You finally say, making your decision. 
“More than okay.” She smiles. “Make yourself at home, do whatever you’d like. Watch YouTube videos, dig into some books, take a nap. You won’t bother me in the slightest. You’re always welcome to hang out in here.” 
You look over the titles on the bookshelf, picking one that looks interesting before settling on the couch. You spend the day with Dr. Keller, relaxing in her office and going to meals with her. It doesn’t calm the anxious thoughts by much, but at least the loneliness is abated a bit. 
You return to the barracks after dinner, debating whether you should sit in the rec room or just go to your room. The rec room feels too open, too exposed without the safety of your pack, so instead you choose to retreat into your room, locking the door behind you. 
You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping as tears gather in your eyes. Another night without them, another night without the safety and comfort of their presence around you. Another night knowing they’re not on the other side of the wall, a knock or a yell away. 
You fight the panic starting to bubble as you get ready for bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of something happening, someone breaking in, someone taking advantage of their absence to get to you. You know it’s an irrational fear. Most of the alphas on base ignore your existence, aside from the couple incidents you’ve had with them. The most they do is stare, though that’s to be expected as an omega. 
What if they’re holding back something more sinister, though? What if the only thing stopping them is your pack? This would be their opportune moment. 
You’re shaking, eyes wide in fear as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Sure, you’ve learned a few ways to defend yourself, but could you really utilize them? If the moment called for it, could you defend yourself enough to get away? Where would you go? Dr. Keller won’t be in her office all night. Could you run and seek protection from another medical professional that was still working? Could you find a different high ranking official on base and hope they’d help you? Could you go for the guards at the gate and hope they help you? 
Or would it be safer to run for the woods? Try to lose whichever alpha decided to attack you and hope you don’t get lost in the trees? You would just have to survive the night, and Dr. Keller would notice you missing come morning. What would she do, though? Call Kate? It’s not like the guys could just come home and help you. Would Kate even tell them something happened and put them at risk of getting distracted? What if something happened to them because of you? 
You turn the shower on as cold as it will go, stepping under the spray in your pajamas. You sink to the floor of the shower, letting the cold water snap you out of your panic and prevent you from distressing. No one’s coming through the door, no one’s going to try and hurt you. 
Your teeth are chattering by the time you reach up to turn the water off. Violent shivers rock your body, your hands and feet numb. You take deep breaths, feeling more awake and aware than you have since yesterday. 
The panic has dropped to almost nothing, your shaking now due to the fact you’re freezing. You strip out of your wet clothes, leaving them in the tub as you wrap a towel around yourself. You’re still shivering violently as you change into warmer pajamas, opting for one of John’s shirts and sweatpants. 
You slip under the covers of your bed, piling every blanket you own on top of the covers before tucking yourself against your giant bear. You won’t sleep, but at least you’re not panicking anymore. 
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The days begin to blend together without the routine of your pack to keep you steady. Dr. Keller comes to get you at the same time as you expect for your breakfast, and then you spend all day with her, sitting in her office, keeping yourself occupied while you wait for an inevitable phone call. It will either be your pack calling to check on you, or it will be Kate with bad news. 
You’re not sure which is worse. The anticipation of a call from your pack letting you know they’re all alright, or the dread that it will be Kate telling you something happened to them. 
You’re still not sleeping well, the anxiety and the worry you might miss their call meshing with the nightmares that were already plaguing you before they left. You’re exhausted and strung out, the worry beginning to eat you alive. You’re constantly on edge, every little sound close to sending you spiraling. 
Your thoughts have slowly shifted from missing your pack to ruminating about the fact they might not be coming back. It’s a risk you’re well aware of. The kinds of things they do put them at risk, every deployment carries the risk of one, or all of them, dying. One thing goes wrong, one small freak accident and your entire pack could be taken from you. 
You’re not sure you’d survive that. 
Most omegas don’t. 
“Still nothing?” Dr. Keller asks as you sit there, staring at your phone for what must have been an hour at least. 
You shake your head. “Nothing.” 
“Sometimes no news is good news.” She says. “I know you’d prefer to have any news at all, though.” 
“I can’t stop thinking...what if something bad has happened?” You say, fingers trembling from gripping your phone so hard. 
“Kate promised she’d call if something happened, right?”
You nod. “Yeah.” 
“She’s a woman of her word, I can say that much. I’m sure they’re fine. They’re very capable soldiers. They wouldn’t be in Spec Ops if they weren’t, much less on a highly specialized team.” Dr. Keller stands up, moving to the closet. “It’s still hard, not knowing where they are or what they’re doing. I remember when my brother told our parents he was enlisting. Our mother cried for a week straight.” She pulls a pillow and a blanket out of the closet. “I still don’t think she’s completely forgiven him. It’s hard for omegas when someone leaves the pack, even temporarily, especially if you can’t have constant reassurance that they’re alright.” 
Your brows pinch in a frown at her words as she kneels on the floor beside the couch. “Your mom was an omega?” 
She nods. “And dad was a beta. Wound up with two beta children, though I don’t think mom complained much about that. We grew up in a big pack with lots of people around us. I think mom would have been worse off if it had just been her and dad.” She sets the pillow on the couch, gently prying the phone from your fingers. “Come on, lay down.” She directs you. 
You do as she says, laying down on the couch, resting your head on the pillow. She covers you with the blanket, tucking it up around your neck. “Is that why you’re so good at this job?” 
She smiles, setting your phone on the arm of the couch above your head. “Maybe. I think it gave me more empathy for omegas and the struggles you face every day.” She gently squeezes your arm. “They’ll be alright. They’re probably just as worried about you, as you are them. But, you need to get some rest. You don’t have to sleep, just laying with your eyes closed will help.” 
You tilt your head, glancing up at your phone. “What if I fall asleep and it rings?” 
“Then I’ll make sure you get a chance to answer it.” She says, squeezing your arm again. “I promise. Get some rest.” 
You let out a breath, not wanting to risk falling asleep, but you close your eyes anyway. It doesn’t stop the thoughts from coming on, the nightmarish images the anxiety feeds your brain flashing before your eyes. What if they’re lying dead somewhere right now? What if something’s happened to Kate and she can’t tell you? Would you ever find out? Would you ever know? 
Despite the anxiety prickling through your body, the warmth of the blanket begins to lull you into a false sense of security. Perhaps it’s the sheer exhaustion from your lack of sleep over the last couple weeks, paired with the exhaustion from your constant worrying, but you find yourself slipping between sleep and consciousness as you lay there on Dr. Keller’s couch. You don’t mean to, but you can’t help it as you begin to drift off to sleep. 
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Screaming. It’s loud, piercing your ears. Something’s holding you, hands clutching at your form desperately. It hurts, nails biting into your skin, fingers gripping too hard, yet you don’t care. 
“You won’t take her from me! I won’t let you!”
You’re crying, sobs wracking your body as you cling just as tightly to the form holding you. 
Hands grab at you, squeezing and pulling, trying to free you from the constricting grip around you, but it won’t let go. You cling to it just as desperately, afraid of what will happen if you let go. 
You know what will happen if you let go. 
“She’s no daughter of mine.” 
The words bite into you, slicing through your skin straight into your very soul, the prickling pain of your own flesh and blood rejecting you making your skin crawl. How could he just let you go like that? How could he turn against you so easily, over something you have no control over? 
Pain erupts across your entire body. Something snaps, your ears ringing from more screams. You’re being pulled away from the safety of the hold around you, your body going cold as the warmth around you disappears. Hands close around you, fingers ripping into you as you're torn from your mother’s hold and into the unknown. 
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“Easy, easy.” 
You’re gasping, breathing wheezing as tears choke you. 
“Deep breaths. In and out, nice and slow.” 
Your breath hitches, catching painfully in your chest. 
“You’re alright, you’re safe.” 
You force your eyes open, blinded by tears as something is tucked into your arms. You squeeze the bear against your chest, hiccuping as you fight for control over your emotions. You’re on the couch in Dr. Keller’s office still. You’re not at what was once your home, not stuck in the nightmare you’ve lived over and over. 
Slowly breathing becomes easier, your sobs quieting to sniffles. The tears still spill down your cheeks, dampening the fur of the bear in your arms. 
“You’re alright,” Dr. Keller says, rubbing your back gently. 
You slowly push yourself up to sit, pulling your knees against your chest. You press your palms into your eyes, trying to get the tears to stop. Dr. Keller shifts her position, sitting next to you on the couch. 
“How long have you been having nightmares?” She asks quietly, watching you as you try to calm yourself. 
“Since my heat.” You say, voice rough from crying. You wrap your arms around the bear again, holding onto it tightly. 
“You haven’t said anything about it.” She says gently, shifting slightly so she’s facing you. 
“I didn’t want to.” You say quietly, shame burning through you. She’s not reprimanding you, yet you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. “I shouldn’t be having them, I mean...it’s not even that bad compared to...compared to what the others have gone through. The kinds of nightmares they have.” 
“It might seem that way to you, but trauma is still trauma. It might not be the worst thing someone else has gone through, but it is the worst thing you’ve been through.” 
Her words give you pause. You’ve never quite thought of it that way. The kinds of things your pack does, the things they’ve seen, the things they’ve done, are far worse than anything you’ve experienced. The things you’ve experienced may pale in comparison, but they’re your experiences. No one else’s. 
“If you want to talk about them, that’s what I’m here for.” Dr. Keller says, leaving things open for you to decide what to do. 
You don’t have to tell her. She won’t force you to do it. She won’t force you to do anything, to say anything you don’t want to. It might be nice, though, to let someone know, someone neutral, someone who won’t tell anyone else. It might be nice to finally put into words the things that are eating you, have been eating you. 
You lay back down, curling up into a tight ball on the couch. You hug the bear close to your chest, letting it ground you. “My nightmares, they’re always about the day I left for the institute.” You start, taking a shaky breath. “I haven’t had them in years.” 
“You were sent early after your presentation, right?” She asks. 
“The day after.” You answer. 
“Being sent to an institute can be traumatic when done within the normal time after presentation. I can’t even imagine what being sent that soon was like.” She lets out a breath. “Sometimes when we go through something traumatic, the brain and body hold onto it, because we don’t feel safe enough to process it in the moment. The brain can hold onto it for years, until we finally feel safe enough. Then the brain can start to try and heal from that trauma without us even realizing it.” 
“You think that’s what’s happening?” You ask. 
“It’s possible. Going through your heat successfully, being claimed, building close bonds with your pack, all could aid in helping you finally feel safe enough to process that trauma. Things usually feel worse as the brain works through the trauma, which could be why you’re having nightmares about that event suddenly.” 
“Is there anything that will make them stop?” You ask. 
“There’s some things we can do together that might help the process. I’m more than happy to help you with it, if that’s what you’d like to do. If you decide to, I think it will be a good idea to set up appointments at least twice a week, at least at first.” 
“What are we gonna tell John?” 
She gives you a look. “Well, I’d advise telling him the truth. I think you should tell your pack about your nightmares. They can at least offer you some comfort and understanding. Of course, that’s entirely up to you and what you want to do.” 
You let out a sigh, getting comfortable on the couch again. Dr. Keller adjusts the blanket over you, squeezing your arm gently. 
“Think about it.” She says. “We can talk about it more after they get back and things have settled back to normal again.” 
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You’re brushing your teeth when the call comes. You quickly spit into the sink, not even bothering to rinse your mouth before you’re answering, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots. You hadn’t even checked the screen to see who was calling. You’re just anxious to hear from someone after days of silence. 
“Hello?” 
There’s a beat of silence before the voice on the other side responds, the audio distant and slightly garbled, but you hardly notice. 
“Hi, sweetheart.” 
You fight back a sob, your inhale shaky as relief floods through you. “Alpha.” The title slips through your lips before you can even catch it, your body nearly vibrating at hearing John’s voice after so many days. 
“I’m here. We’re all here.” He says, distant voices sounding in the background. 
A smile tugs at your lips, happy tears blurring your eyes as you collapse on your bed. “Missed you.” 
“I know, we’ve missed you too.” 
You move to your bed, flopping down on the mattress in relief. “You alright? Is everyone alright?” 
“We’re alright. Few bumps and bruises, but nothing we haven’t had before. How are you holding up?” 
The urge to spill the truth to him is strong. You’ve been depressed and worried and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that you haven’t panicked about something. You’ve been having horrible nightmares and haven’t been sleeping. There’s an ache in your chest that won’t go away, and you’re afraid it might kill you if you don’t see them soon. 
“I’m alright. Sad cause I miss you a lot.” 
“I know, sweetheart.” There’s a sound on the other end, something you can’t make out and the line buzzes for a second. For a moment you’re worried you were disconnected, but John’s voice cuts through the noise again. “We’re finishing up here soon, and we’ll be home in a couple of days.” 
You can’t help but sigh in relief at his words. They’re alright. They’re all safe, and they’re going to be home soon. You’re going to get to see them soon, touch them again, smell them again. “Hurry back.” You say, your voice shaky with emotion. 
“We’ll try, sweet girl. We have to get going, but we’ll be back before you know it.” 
Saying goodbye doesn't hurt as much as you expect it to. Maybe it’s the relief from hearing their voices, from knowing they’re really alright paired with the knowledge that they’ll be home soon. Two days doesn’t seem so far now that you know that’s all that stands between you and seeing your pack again. 
You roll over in your bed, pressing your face into the pillows. Nothing smells like them anymore. Not their shirts that they scented before they left, not your pillows or stuffed animals. The couch in the rec room, and even John’s bed have started to smell more like you. 
The first thing you’re going to do when they return is get a big whiff of each of them, even if you have to tackle Ghost to do it. You want to refresh their scents all over everything, roll around in them until they’re the only thing you can smell. 
For the first time in days, you manage to sleep that night. It’s not much, but it’s a deep, nightmare-free sleep, aided by the relief from the constant anxiety that has plagued you. 
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You update Dr. Keller the next day on the news of your pack’s imminent return. You elect to spend the afternoon in the barracks instead of her office, the building suddenly not seeming quite so empty now that you know they’re coming home soon. You clean up John’s room, making his bed again after you’d made a mess of it trying to sleep. They’re all going to be tired when they return, and you want to help them in any way that you can. You pick up your room as well, even though you know you likely won’t be spending much time in it for a while. You’re going to latch yourself onto them and not let go until the ache in your chest has disappeared. 
You bristle when the knock sounds at your door. You glance up from where you had been sorting the clothes you’d stolen from the guys from your own so you can get them to scent them again. You’re not expecting a knock yet. It’s too early to be Dr. Keller coming to get you for dinner, and she would have announced herself like she has been, if it was her. 
That means someone else is in the barracks. Someone you don’t know. 
Your mind races as you try to think of who it could be. You don’t know many others on base, and certainly no one that would enter the barracks just like that, unless it’s an emergency. Is there an emergency? You’re almost certain if there was an emergency on base, then there would be alarms going off or something. There’d be some sign that something was happening, but it’s quiet outside, or at least, there’s no noises you’re not expecting. 
The knock comes again, louder and sharper. Whoever is on the other side is obviously not going to just go away. You debate calling Dr. Keller, telling her someone is outside your door, getting her to help you on this, but instead you grab your phone, holding it in your hand as you move towards the door. 
You unlock it, holding your hand on the handle in case the person on the other side tries to force their way in. They don’t, so you open it slowly, just enough that you can see out. There’s a soldier outside your door. A woman. You don’t recognize her, but then again you don’t see many women on the base, and you don’t pay much attention to the other soldiers. 
Maybe you need to start paying more attention. 
She’s a beta, you can tell just by looking at her. She’s wearing scent blockers, keeping her scent from projecting into the barracks to erase the fact she was here. 
She says your name, staring at you with hard set eyes. “General Shepherd is waiting for you.” 
It takes you a moment to process what it is she’s saying. You’ve never met any of the higher ups on base. The person with the most authority you’ve met is John, but you know he’s only a Captain. There’s others above him, but you weren’t any concern of theirs, so you have never bothered to meet them. Even in your time with the CIA, the person with the most authority that you met seemed to be Kate. You hadn’t even been given names of anyone higher up than her. 
Apparently something’s changed. 
Something in the back of your mind begins to tingle. Something isn’t right about this. You should have called Dr. Keller, or even Kate. You shouldn’t have opened the door so recklessly. 
“But, I’m not supposed to-” You begin, unsure of what to do now. 
“It’s a direct order from your superior.” The woman cuts you off, her tone sharp and impatient.
You’re not a soldier. The only superior you have is John and he’s certainly not behind this. 
You wouldn’t dare say that out loud. Not right now. 
“Okay, okay.” You say, stepping back slightly from the door. “Let me just get some shoes on.” 
You close the door, staring down at your phone. You debate calling Dr. Keller or even just sending a text, but you don’t put it past the woman outside to barge in if you don’t hurry. You can feel the panic rising, the thought of someone invading your space so carelessly making the back of your neck tingle. So instead you slip on a pair of shoes, shoes you know you can run in, before you open the door again. 
She’s still standing in the hallway, stiffly at attention. Her gaze pierces into you, making your skin crawl. You close your door behind you, slipping your phone into your pocket. She doesn't say anything as she turns on her heel, walking down the hallway towards the door. You follow behind her, having to walk quickly to keep up with her. You’re reminded of your early days on the base when you would be escorted around by Ghost. 
You’d take those times back over this right now. 
Your palms start to sweat as you leave the barracks, dread starting to fill your stomach as you realize how much of a mistake you’ve made, leaving with this stranger. She could be taking you anywhere to see anyone. You’re not even sure General Shepherd is a real person. 
The thought of being led blindly into a room of alphas like a lamb being led into a den of hungry wolves nearly makes you panic, your steps faltering just slightly as you debate running. You could make it to the medical center quickly from here if you sprint the entire way. Would she chase you if you took off running? Would you get in trouble? Would the guys get in trouble if you did? 
You don’t want anyone to get in trouble. 
Especially not with this being the first time you’ve been on your own. They’ve put a lot of trust in both you and Dr. Keller in their absence. If you get into trouble while they’re gone, that might change things. You could ruin everything you’ve built by misbehaving. 
The woman leads you to a building you haven’t been in before, leading you down a clinical-looking hallway to a door. She pauses in front of it, turning to face you. You stare at her, still on edge. What if this is a test? What if they’re testing you to see if you’d just blindly leave with a stranger while they’re not there to protect you. 
You’ve made a big mistake. 
The woman holds out her hand, and you stare down at it dumbly. “Your phone.” 
You continue to stare at her hand for a moment, trying to swallow the nervous panic rising within you. You don’t have much of a choice now but to obey. Your hands are shaking as you pass your phone over, the woman pocketing it before she opens the door. 
It’s bright inside, the LED bulbs burning your eyes. You’re uncomfortable and uneasy, a dangerous mix for an omega, but the person inside doesn’t seem to care. He stands from his seat, towering over you. He screams alpha before his scent even hits you. You’re thrown back into the memories of your father, the way he carried himself, the way he stood. Back straight like a rod, hands clasped behind his back, face pressed into a stern line. 
He’s in uniform, decorated with more patches and pins than you could put a name to. Army, you think, judging by the color of his jacket. It looks like General Shepherd is a real person after all. 
You try not to flinch as the door clicks closed behind you, sealing you in this room with an unknown alpha. Though it’s only one, you still feel like the helpless lamb standing before a hungry wolf. 
No one will hear you scream. No one will care. 
“My name is General Shepherd.” He says, his voice gruff and laced with authority. “I am the acting commander of Task Force 141.” 
You’re not sure if you should say anything, or even bother introducing yourself. He probably already knows you well, even though you’ve never met him before in your life. 
“I was one of the driving forces behind the omega initiative, and I decided the 141 should be one of the first to participate. I also signed the approval for you to be assigned as their omega, did you know that?” 
You shake your head. “N-No sir, the CIA didn’t give me any names.” 
“Good.” His lips twitch in what you assume was supposed to be a smile. It doesn’t ease your nerves any. “They weren’t supposed to. I’m sure you’ve learned that confidentiality is everything in this line of work.” 
“Yes, sir.” You try not to flinch under his gaze, piercing and probing. The back of your neck is tingling, every single instinct in your body screaming at you to run, to escape, to get somewhere safe. 
“I came here today to ensure your pack was doing as they were instructed. I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far. You’re getting along well with them?” 
You nod again. “Yes, sir. There were some...bumps along the way, but we all get along fine now.” 
“Good.” He closes the file on the table, taking a step closer to you. You fight the urge to take a step back, not wanting him to invade your space while you’re so vulnerable. “The success of this program is imperative to the future of the military and its functionality. You’re doing important work here with the Task Force.” His hand lifts, slowly pulling the collar of your shirt to the side so he can see your mating mark. 
You fight the urge to lift your hands and wrap them around the back of your neck, the instinctual urge to protect yourself nearly winning out as he stares at your mark. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the fear-driven adrenaline making your fingers tremble. Half a second and he could scruff you, half a second and he could overpower you. 
No one would know. No one would care.  
“I’m satisfied with what I’m seeing so far. Of course, the true measure of success will be their efficiency in their current task.” He steps back away from you, moving back to the table. “How have you been adjusting to them being gone?” 
“It’s been difficult,” You say, breathing for a second to collect yourself. “But I know separation can be a rough adjustment at first.” 
His lips twitch again in a twisted smile. “You’re a smart girl. That’s why I chose you for this position. You’re doing good work. Your efforts will change the course of military history, hopefully for the better.” 
Something about his words don’t sit right with you. 
You’re trembling as you exit the room, led out by the woman that had brought you to the building. Your breaths are heavy as you try to keep a grip on the anxiety threatening to overtake you. Your hand is trembling uncontrollably as she give you your phone back, your knuckles going white as you clutch it to your chest. You’re sweating, the cool air chilling your skin as you step outside. 
You barely remember the walk back to the barracks, numbly following the woman as she leads you back to your safe space. It doesn't feel so safe anymore, now that she’s breached it. She entered without permission, breaking that trust that’s so sacred to packs. 
She doesn't even seem bothered by it. 
She pauses outside the door to the barracks, staring down at you. You fight the urge to race inside and lock yourself in the safety of your room before she can change her mind and enter again, or take you somewhere worse. You stand your ground, meeting her gaze. 
“Thank you for your cooperation.” She says, as monotone as she had been the first time she spoke to you. 
You finally realize what it was that made her seem so off to you as you think over her words. 
She’s American. 
“Thank you for escorting me.” You say politely, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Have a safe trip home.” 
You quickly enter the barracks, speed walking down the hall towards your room. You want to burrow under your covers and hide until the guys return and you can feel safe again. You pause in front of your door, staring down at the handle. The back of your neck is prickling again, anxiety burning hot in your veins. Your hands have begun shaking again, clinging to the phone still pressed against your chest. You fight the urge to hyperventilate as you stare at your door, half of your brain telling you to run and the other half stuck, staring in shock and disbelief. 
Your door is ajar. Open just a crack, just enough to be noticeable by looking at it. 
You always close your door. You always ensure it’s shut every time you leave the barracks, even when the guys are home. You remember shutting it before you followed the woman out of the barracks. You remember distinctly listening to the click of the handle as you pulled it shut behind you in the quiet of the barracks. 
You stare at the gap, the line of the frame visible. It’s open. Your door is open. 
Someone was inside your room. 
NEXT ->
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itsastrobixch · 29 days
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Astrology notes
- gemini / mercury / uranus / aqua change their identity a lot online. They place a lot of importance on their online identity and as they change so does their online personas.
- Mercury dominance if well placed Learnt to talk very early and saturn mercury aspects learnt to speak a bit late or may speak with a bit of hesitation.
- chiron in 1st have deep rooted identity issues and may also not be able to relax in photos and stuff. Some may even go to the extent of not wanting to take pictures at all.
- count yourself lucky if : air signs ask for your advice.. They don't ask option from everyone. Similarly if fire signs seek you out or show you their defeated side and depressed side. They Always want people to seem them as optimistic fiery and determined but like evryone they too go through down times but they tend to bounce back faster than others.
- Mercury saturn or Mercury rx may have great conversations with themselves in their heads but when it comes out it night miss the mark or.. Like not sound as good as it did in their brains.
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- all mercury /gemini dominants open 3 to 5 tabs at the same time. And don't finish a single one completely. Change my mind.
- moon pluto tumultuous emotions. Whiplash. One extrene or the other. Mood changes just with a single event. The whole room can feel the shift as well. Moon and Pluto both give out unstable, watery and intense emotions. It can be difficult if negatively aspected. Even if positively aspected it can lead to the feeling overwhelming emotions.
- People with pluto in 1st, their emotions are hidden. No one knows how they feel. Mostly i see geminis get all the credit for their glib tongues. But have you ever seen a Pluto person toy with people when they know they truth ? They'll lie so effortlessly that even the people who know the truth will start to believe the lie is the truth. Their words and their facial expressions while lying is so controlled and natural it's scary.
- Asteroid Cerea shows is how we nurture. Aries ceres is the defender of the group and people who tend to protect people who are defenseless esp animals. Taurus is the comforter. And so on. But aspects and the house in which Ceres is in also plays a major role.
- Uranus / gemini in 3rd house have lots of ideas at the same time but many are unfocused and evrything is gone in a fleet. They may have a brilliant idea but Lose it in the next second. It'll be better if they scribble down their thoughts anywhere somewhere so they'll have a basic idea of what they thought.
- I fucking admire Aries women, esp as a Libra, like how tf..? i used to have a friend, she used to do some pretty controversial shit in high school but like never once let anything get iin her way and is now a part time business woman...like come on...how are you so headstrong ? And somehow things also tend to workout for them
- every mutable person has a box full of drafts all half done and of various types but all undone. Its a mess of ideas and posts half written and lost interest and motivation along the way...but I'll save it for another day when I will want to finish it up.
- If an air sign texts you daily, they like you. Especially instant replies . 🌝
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- scorpio, and Venus Pluto aspects also tend to fall for someone who is out of their grasp. they like to torture themselves like that 😂 or they'll think that they don't deserve the person they're in love with. Its Always one or the other with them.
- venus neptune contacts produce the devoted worshipper type lovers. They will worship the ground their love walks on and will turn a blind eye to their faults. This is most definitely not a healthy patter of behaviour. Please don't indulge in this.
- mercury dominants can't fucking shut their brain off. they have a lot of nervous energy. And will Always be actively thinking about atleast two things at once.
- actually now that i think about it, my bffs in high are an Aries sun, me a sag rising and my frnd a leo sun. and i still wonder why the girls didn't like us 😂🌝 if fire signs get together whether they stir up drama or not, it'll either find them or people will hold them responsible for it even if they aren't.
- gemini and Mercury dominants can imitate very well especially the accents. Their adpative ability is out of charts and a bit creepy tbh. how they change acc to people, how they acclimatise to their surroundings ax cultures, they have this ability which allows to be another person if they like.
- mars - pluto negative aspects may have r*pe dreams often even if they haven't had any such encounters.
- pluto in 1st are ironically afraid of death and illness more so than the usual person.
- 11th house sign may show how we behave online.
-geminins have this weird ability to take and soak up information from all over the place and somehow put it together perfectly . they learn stuff from disorderly messes but they seem to understand it with clarity.
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solarmorrigan · 3 months
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[cw: weight loss, body image issues/body dysmorphia]
Consider: Steve whose migraines become unmanageable for a while, or who falls into a harsh depressive episode after everything with Vecna, or who experiences reduced mobility or chronic pain due to the many varied injuries he's picked up over the years, or any combination of the above
Steve who loses his appetite and who isn't able to keep up with the workout routine he used to have and who loses weight and loses muscle mass and fucking hates it
He's always been on the lean side, but he hasn't been skinny since probably eighth grade, when he was still gawky and growing into his frame. But this is different; this isn't awkward adolescence, something he'll grow out of, this is the sight of his ribs through his skin and his hipbones jutting out and his wrists getting too skinny for his watch. This is feeling cold all the time and struggling to lift things he used to be able to pick up without much trouble
(It's fear, too. Not just a fear that he'll never get back to where he used to be, but fear that something will happen and he'll be too weak to stop it. Too weak to help. Too weak to protect anyone the way he should)
There are days he can't quite stand looking at himself; can't stand the sight of baggy clothes that used to fit perfectly, can't stand looking at tired eyes staring out of the sharpened angles of his face. He feels insubstantial this way. Like anyone could look right past him - right through him
Eddie never does, though. He never treats Steve differently, except to worry about his health - but never what he looks like. He hugs Steve as tightly as before, kisses him just as hard as before, whistles at him when he catches Steve in the middle of dressing, just like before. Like he isn't disappointed that Steve doesn't look good anymore, like he isn't even bothered
He'll hold Steve, and pull him close on bad days, and he'll let Steve be upset, but he'll never stand for Steve speaking badly about himself. He'll always push back, sometimes gently, sometimes loudly, always reminding Steve that he loves him, and what he looks like is a part of that. Reminding him that Eddie loves it all
"But you can gain it back, if you want to. When you're doing better," Eddie tells him
"What if I'm never doing better? What if I can never get back to where I was?" Steve demands. "What if this is just my body now?"
"Then it is." Eddie kisses his shoulder, his neck, his cheek. "Then I'll help you learn how to love it as much as you did before. As much as I still do."
And he says it so openly, so honestly, that even on bad days, Steve thinks that maybe - maybe he could be okay
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scarlethexelove · 3 months
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Help Me Forget
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count: 1841
Warnings: Talks of death, Not understanding emotions, depression, comfort, smut, Intersex!Natasha, P in V, soft sex, sex used as a distraction, Soft!Nat, Unprotected sex
A/n: So this was a request for someone going through a hard time. Hopefully this helps a little and you like it.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
You lay in bed because it is all you can think of doing. Not wanting to move from what little comfort you are getting from the blankets nestled around you. Your emotions are wildly all over the place and you don’t know how to feel. A numb feeling taking over but at the same time you want to cry. So you stay here unmoving curled up and hidden away. 
Natasha has been looking all around for you. Normally you always join her for breakfast after she has finished her workout. But as she entered the kitchen you weren’t to be found. She checks all the places that you would normally hang out but you weren’t in any of them. So she makes her way back to your shared bedroom. 
The door slowly creaked open as Nat made her way into the room. The door softly closed behind her. She can see your form on the bed, the slight rise and fall as you breathe. “Malyshka?” She calls out cautiously to you. When you don’t reply she gets closer to the bed checking to see if maybe you are asleep. You don’t move as she comes into view and she can now see that you're awake. 
Nat crouches down in front of you and she can see the distant look in your eyes as tears shine. “Detka what’s wrong?” Your eyes slowly drift to hers that are full of concern. Your lip trembles as the tears escape your eyes. Nat quickly slots in front of you on the tiniest part of the bed. Pulling you into her chest. Your tears soaking into the skin of her chest. She lets you cry, kissing the top of your head and whispering sweet words. It all feels too much in the moment. You pull back quickly wiping the fallen tears. “Sorry.” You mumble as you sit up and shuffle away letting her have more space. “Malyshka please what’s wrong?” She gently strokes your cheek. 
You don’t speak. It’s hard to find the words that you want to say. You feel so much comfort from Nat being there but you also feel so overwhelmed and somehow numb at the same time. It’s so confusing and jarring for you that you don’t know what to do or say. But Nat doesn’t push you. She continues to gently stroke your cheek with her thumb as you unconsciously nuzzle into her hand. 
“My friend died.” You mumble breaking the once silent room. “Oh malyshka, I’m so sorry.” Nat shuffles closer to you where you now sit in the middle of the bed. She hesitates for a moment wanting nothing more to pull you into her but not wanting to push you. “May I?” She questions. You nod letting yourself fall into her embrace. It comforts you that she is willing to check with you before pulling you in after not long ago pulling away. A few more tears prick your eyes. “I-I don’t know. S-She was just here and now. I don’t know how, how I’m… I’m sorry.” You cling to her tightly as she has her arms wrapped around you. 
“I know sweetheart.” Nat gently kisses your head and holds you tightly. “Everyone grieves in a different way. It’s okay not to know how to feel. Emotions are complex and take time to understand. And it’s okay if you don’t figure it out either. I will be here for you. I love you so much and anything you need from me I will be here to help. I love you more than anything in this world.” You let more tears slip as her words sink in. You don’t know how she knew what you couldn’t even say but she always does. She knows you better than you even know yourself. You don’t need to say thank you, she already knows just how much you appreciate her and all she does for you. It's a bond built on love, understanding, and communication that allows the unspoken words to be known between you. 
The room falls silent again as Nat comforts you. When you feel yourself calm you look up at Nat, her green eyes staring back at you with a soft smile playing on her lips. “Help me forget.” Your words are low. “What do you want me to do detka?” You place small kisses on her neck. “Please?” You whisper between light kisses. Your words sink in and she understands what you want, but she isn’t sure it’s a good time for this. “Are you sure?” She pulls you back and cups your face in her hands. You give her a small nod. “I don’t wanna think right now.” Nat nods. “Okay.” She pulls you in and kisses you. The kisses is soft and full of love. It’s nothing like how your normal kisses are. Less hungry for one another. 
As the kiss deepens you slowly roll onto your back as Nat follows leaning over you and propping herself up. Not breaking the kiss once in the process. When the need for air becomes apparent Nat pulls away leaning back. You try to chase after her a small whine leaving your lips. “Shhh detka. I’m not going anywhere.” You can see the growing bulge in her workout shorts. One of her hands goes to your hips and her finger hooks into the band of your sleep shorts. She silently asks for permission to take them off. You lift your hips which signals for her to pull them down. She pulls them completely off before throwing them off the bed. She follows by pulling her sports bra off. You sit up a little and take off the shirt you are wearing leaving you bare as Nat gets up to pull her shorts and boxers off. Her hardened cock springing free from their tight confines before she climbs back on the bed and hovers over you. 
“Are you sure about this?” Nat questions again want to make sure that you are one hundred percent on board with this. Your hand cups her cheek as you look deeply in her eyes. “I’m sure. I want to forget just for a little bit. I just want you.” She smiles at you and nods.”If you want me to stop at any time just tell me.” You nod and she  leans back down to kiss you again. It’s slow and passionate. Your arms wrap loosely around her neck as she presses her body into yours, keeping most of her weight off of you by holding herself up. You can feel her cock nudging close to where you want her. “Please.” You whimper. She pecks your lips. 
Nat moves her hand down holding herself up with her other arm. She lines herself up with your waiting entrance nudging lightly before slowly sinking in. The head of her cock stretches you open as it fully presses in. She moves her hand back beside your head leaning over you as she slowly sinks her full length inside of you. Your arms wrap back around her neck as your mouth opens slightly. A gasp escaping your lips when her hips meet yours. You let your legs wrap around her waist as she waits for you to adjust to the stretch. She leans down gently nipping and sucking at the skin of your neck. 
When you’re ready for her to move you grind into her. She smirks against your skin pulling her hips back before pushing back into you. It’s slow at first, almost too slow but she picks up the pace. But this time isn’t like others, she keeps it to a slower more sensual pace. It’s not about pounding you into the mattress, it is about love and comfort. 
Nat’s pace stays the same as she thrust into you. Small gasps and moans leave your lips as she continues. It’s like nothing you have felt before it’s not just fucking it is making love. It’s somehow exhilarating to feel all of her love for you in such a different way. Your legs pulling her closer begging to feel more of her, all of her.  She can feel it too. The difference in how your body is reacting to hers. Both of you becoming love drunk on one another. 
As Nat’s steady pace continues you can feel yourself getting closer. The knot in your stomach is growing and so is hers. You cup her face in your hands pulling her lips to yours and kissing her. Letting her slip her tongue in your mouth as she swallows your moans. Exploring each other's mouths with each passing second, so close to falling over the edge. 
Your walls grip her length as you grow near. Nat’s thrust becomes sloppy. You're both so close to the edge. The kiss becomes harder to maintain the closer you get. Nat breaks away burying her head in your neck as breathy moans escape your lips. She gently kisses your neck knowing you can’t hold on much longer with how hard you are sucking her in and she can’t hold out much longer. “Cum with me detka.” She mumbles against your skin. You don’t need to be told twice as you release on her cock. Your juices coating her length as she gently thrust a few more times before she paints your walls white. Your legs pull her as close as you can as she finishes. 
Nat slows her thrusts to help ride out both of your highs. Your chest heaves as you come down from your high and Nat’s thrusts come to a stop. She slowly pulls out of you. The mix of your juices leaking out as you whine at the loss. “Shh it’s ok sweetheart.” Nat kisses your head before she crawls off the bed. “I’ll be right back.” She tells you as she heads to the bathroom. She comes back out with a washcloth after having cleaned herself up a bit. She crawls back onto the bed and gently cleans you up making sure not to hurt you since you're still sensitive. She tosses the washcloth into the pile of clothes to clean up late before she lays down beside you. 
You cuddle up into Nat’s side, the closeness you can feel as your naked bodies come together is soothing. She wraps her arms around you tightly as you lay your head on her chest. “Thank you Natty.” You look up at her with your chin on her chest. She leans and kisses your forehead. “I would do anything for you detka.” You blush a little and smile. “I love you.” You say as you lay your head back down. “I love you too.” Nat leans back and pulls you that much closer to her. Things will still be hard but Nat will be there every step of the way. Making sure to help you navigate through your emotions and even provide a distraction at times. No matter what she is always there for you as you are for her.
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toastsnaffler · 2 years
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does my body just. Not produce endorphins lmao
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ybklix · 2 months
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𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦
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⋆˚✿˖° pairing: seo changbin x fem!reader
୧ ‧₊˚ ♡ somethin’ about him is made for somebody like me ₊˚⊹⋆
♡ genre - warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected piv, car and semi public sex, kinda slow burn? idk bear w me
word count: 3.1k
m.list
a/n: idk, a little something ab changbin as i prepare for 1k event fics!<3 and all my wips omg; just bc he’s so ariana slay
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Changbin said it simply, whether or not you would go with him to the gym, via text message, to which you declined, you didn’t feel like working out at all, something about you that day seemed to depress you, but every muscle in your body tensed and your whole being woke up as you read:
uh, too bad
i wanted you to meet gyuri, i'm going to train her now
I thought you might get along😁
You jolted up, perplexed as you read the message from your best friend. Next thing you knew you were ready to go to Changbin’s personalized gym, this time dressed a little less sporty, you hoped to excuse yourself smoothly with something you would come up with later since you weren’t thinking clearly.
For years you had this best friend dynamic with Changbin, an unique dynamic where you never touched each other that way, but you treated each other with such affection that people thought you were a couple and, but knowing that he would be with another woman... made you grow jealous, you couldn’t deny it, he was yours, you were in love with him but the idea of a relationship suffocated you, you just knew you wanted him, his company in everything.
Changbin was a professional and personal trainer, he had clients of very high status, usually... other men so you were more than relieved, but a girl was something new to you. So with a slight shiver in your body, you unexpectedly knocked on your friend’s establishment door. He opened it for you within seconds, confused, wearing his tight workout clothes, making you slightly nervous.
“Oh, hey, love” he greeted you with a smile, “You drove here by yourself? You actually decided to come... but... you’re not dressed to...”
“Oh, no, let’s go eat later” you quickly interrupted him.
“Okay! But... you know I’m kind of busy, will you wait here?”
You blinked trying to think quickly, a valid excuse, something, something...
“Mr. Seo!” you heard a high-pitched but sweet voice, interrupting you and diverting his attention.
Changbin turned with a smile and then saw you. The inner fire of yours burst out in you more.
“Oh, it’s Gyuri, come in Y/n.”
You both walked further in, until you came to see a pretty young woman with two glasses with orange juice in her hands... she was, something else, she had such a bright aura, long hair and dyed a light brown. She really was Changbin’s type, if you knew him well enough.
“Changbin, please, I’m not that old” he joked correcting her, taking one of the glasses, “Oh, this is Y/n, Y/n, Gyuri.”
“Nice to meet you” Gyuri replied kindly with a smile to which you reciprocated the gesture, “Oh, I made orange juice, do you want...?”
“I’m fine really...”
And a brief awkward silence formed. Changbin sensed it instantly and took a quick sip of his juice.
“Well, let’s continue” he exclaimed.
You felt... like you shouldn’t be there, you weren’t even wearing work out clothes, you were sad in your apartment but you went all the way here by mere impulse as you felt Changbin was yours.
You watched them walk away, but Changbin quickly turned to see you.
“Ah, Y/n...”
“It’s okay, I can go” you replied awkwardly, your cheeks warm not exactly sure if from a bit of rage or general embarrassment.
“Oh, no, you can stay, I won’t really train, I’ll just make sure Gyuri does a good job and that the exercises I assign suit her.”
You smiled at him, you couldn’t even answer him, you felt so small, pathetic and jealous. And now you had to witness him, pulling her body closer, encouraging her, correcting her posture, lifting her ass to him. You couldn’t take it anymore. Usually you’re that girl, and you come out of your sessions very turned on by his yelling and flattery.
You texted Minho, your other friend, telling him to call you urgently, to which he initially complained and tried to ignore you but after a few minutes, very confused he did. You walked away embarrassed, pretending to have an important call and walked out, exclaiming that it was a call from Minho. Changbin watched you leave, a little confused... as you were acting weird, quieter than usual and the only time he saw your eyes light up was when you got the call from another man, causing him discontent.
You explained the situation to Minho, to which in a mocking tone, after laughing at you, he encouraged you to finally try something with Changbin, that if neither of you didn’t cross the line, something would never happen... so you decided to take his wise words. This wasn’t planned, you’re usually unproblematic and only the universe knows how hard you tried to resist, but you couldn’t help it, the boy was yours. He always was. Only you knew him like no one else and you couldn’t wait to try.
After an exhaustive talk on the phone for more than half an hour with Minho, whom you seemed to be forcibly holding back, you entered, finding Changbin and Gyuri finishing their session. You celebrated internally; you checked even the smallest detail of both of them was in order, analyzing them with the look that nothing had happened in your absence, and everything looked the same. Only the girl was a little flustered who had a slightly tired expression and was sweating, getting up from the exercise machine.
She walked in search of her tumbler cup with water, drinking slowly.
“I’m done, what do you want to eat?” Changbin walked over to tell you.
You still smelled his perfume, with him not shedding a drop of sweat.
You smiled at him, “I don’t know, let’s just go out.”
You were nervous and couldn’t explain it. What you didn’t know was that Changbin was also giving your long phone call with Minho a second thought. So he didn’t even pay attention to Gyuri, just politely bid her farewell, telling her politely that he would see her next session.
Once inside his car, he started driving, suddenly you found him a thousand times more attractive, the way his hair looked so fluffy, he was driving attractively with one hand and his seat belt squeezing between the middle of his pecs... you thought about what to say, honestly confessing with cheesy words was not your thing, what could you do...
“So... what so much did Minho say?” he finally spoke, trying to hide his curiosity.
“Minho? Ah, nothing.”
“Mmm... well, it seems like you talked quite a lot...”
You were so engrossed in your thoughts that you weren’t paying much attention to what Changbin was saying, but his subtle tone changed something in you... it was obvious his slight jealous tone so you quickly seized the opportunity.
“Uh... well yeah, you know how Minho and I are…”
“Minho and you? Since when? He can barely stand you.”
“Well… he tolerates me enough to listen to my voice over the phone for an hour.”
Changbin snorted in annoyance, bringing his other hand to the steering wheel, giving an incredulous half-smile.
“Anyway, let’s go to that food place we went to the other time.”
“Sounds good to me, maybe I can bring Minho something to eat too” you continued to tease him, enjoying seeing his disgusted reaction.
“Why would you bring him food? If you’re hanging out with me, he can cook something by himself. Did you tell him you’d bring him food? Does it mean you’re going to see him later?” exploded Changbin in emotions still looking straight ahead, unable to turn to see you.
You laughed and rolled your eyes in satisfaction.
“God, Changbin, are you listening to yourself?”
“Yeah so what?”
“Are you jealous?” you smiled mischievously.
“As much as you were of Gyuri” he now smiled.
The gesture was immediately wiped off your face. You couldn’t believe he said that. Changbin started laughing in his typical mocking laugh, coming from the pit of his stomach, his low and sonorous 'hehehe', you found it really annoying.
“Oh, shut the fuck up.”
“Well, that’s the way you wanted to play” he added, parking his car in front of a fence on the street of the outside restaurant which was a street food place, a bit far from it.
You crossed your arms and acted indignant, hoping to get his attention, you were both attention whores. Changbin smiled at your expression, looking straight ahead with your arms and leg crossed. He unbuckled his seatbelt, and began to stirr your arm playfully.
“Come on, let’s go eat, don’t say you got mad. If you behave yourself I’ll pay for Lino’s food too and we’ll bother him later, we can see his annoying reaction when he sees us coming over” he mentioned in an amused tone, begging for your attention.
You slowly smiled and it wasn’t because of his comment, just for the simple fact that you really liked Changbin, and you loved the way he begged a little. You turned to look at him, slowly, scaring Changbin in a good way, as your expression was serious, you had a sweet smile drawn on your face, your eyes sparkled in the slight darkness and... you managed to make him nervous in seconds, you looked so attractive in his eyes, with a look that you had only seen him before for a few seconds when you got drunk, a seductive look almost inviting him to do with you whatever he wants.
“Hey, let’s go to...”
“Changbin” you said slowly; he was lost on you, he didn’t finish his sentence nor did he know what he was talking about, “Bin...”
You didn’t know exactly what to say either. You were just waiting for him to react and come to you and take what is his, with a kiss.
Changbin cleared his throat, averting his gaze from you, breaking the moment of tension and the magic moment where you were hypnotizing him. You would have thought it was cute... but instead you grimaced in disgust... was it that you had misread the signs and Changbin really didn’t like you too? You got so angry that you spat impulsively and without thinking:
“Yeah, well, at least Minho would have known to take this chance and would be kissing me by now.”
Changbin’s face perked up as did his ears at being so surprised, the sentence with the words ‘Minho, kiss, me’ didn’t seem to well at all to him.
“Excuse me?”
You moved dangerously close to him, almost brushing his lips, making him open his eyes in surprise:
“That he can read the room and understand what I want” you provoked him again.
“Oh yeah?” he expressed, smugly, brushing his nose with yours, “Then why don’t you go and bother him? But no, you have to be here... Binnie this, Binnie that... I’ve never seen you complain this much...”
“And what could it be that I always called you before anyone else?” his lips inches away, so agonizing that your body throbbed with excitement.
“What is it...? You have to tell me.”
“What do you want me to tell you, Seo Changbin?”
The air suddenly became heavy, your breaths could be heard in every corner of his car.
“Say what you want, you’re free to express yourself, love.”
You smiled, amused about to say the most corny thing in the world, unashamed, about to kiss him, “I’d say you’re mine.”
And you kissed him, being pushed by more than your silly steady wobble. His lips were soft and fluffy, Changbin quickly held the back of your neck gently to intensify his kiss, you took hold of his strong arm; he did it so well, he was slow but wild, taking you into splendid delight. After a little over a minute, his free hand sought to caress your thigh, he brought his hand under your skirt and explored the inside of your mouth dirtyly with his tongue, arousing you a little.
Finally you parted, lips swollen and incredibly aroused from each other, staring into each other’s eyes so lasciviously.
“Oh, Y/n...” he whispered, analyzing every part of your face, “Come here, I’m all yours.”
Changbin roughly slid his seat back, patting his thighs, you looked down at his hand and it was inevitable to notice that he was hard. You smiled broadly and found a way to slide from your seat to his, sitting on his lap facing him, with your thighs on either side of his, feeling a little of his bulge brush against your mons pubis, so close to your clit. You left your hands on his pecs and kissed him again, in a more desperate act, not caring that you were on a public street, you needed him, just now more than any other day, you couldn’t believe it, finally you and him, intertwining, under the night.
Changbin began to touch your body, running his manly hands up your thighs and down your ass, until he reached your panties, desperate, Changbin let one hand squeeze your thigh and the other caressed your sensitive clit, managing to cause you to shiver. You were so wet that it kind of embarrassed you to drop your whole body into his lap, but he loved how slightly needy you looked. Changbin gently bit your lower lip as he pulled away from you and worked more on caressing your throbbing clit; you bit your lip in pleasure as you saw his smug expression on his face, he was more than happy to see a new reaction in you, with your slightly open mouth, panting and your submissive look, suddenly discovering your body became so addictive and filled him with adrenaline.
You gasped harder, you were so ready to see his cock for the first time and decisively to start moving on it, you wanted it right now and you were about to ask for it; but seeing two young people walking down the street through the back window of his car, made you regain your consciousness a little.
“Cha-ngbin” you tried to speak, “we’re in...”
“In a fucking public place, I know dear, so you better be discreet; I’m not gonna take off any of your clothes, you can fuck me like this” he whispered breathy and sizzling near your lips, gently scrunching his nose and unable to take his eyes off your face.
You watched him and for some reason, you just nodded submissively, Changbin widened his smile at your response, sweetly showing his front teeth.
“Stand up a little, so you can feel my fingers...”
You did so instantly, and within seconds you felt the tickle of his fingers across your labia, then moving away the fabric of your panties from your soaked entrance and he slipped two of his deft fingers into your core.
Changbin raised his eyebrows in surprise and pouted finding you tender, your body trembled and you did your best to hold back the soft whimper leaving your lips at the sensation of your insides being touched.
“You’re so wet, love. I think you’re so ready to take my cock already, don’t you?”
He pushed his fingers in deeper, teasing you more, making you lean your limp body into him, enjoying the feel of his fingers digging inside you.
“Y-yes, Changbin, please.”
“I didn’t hear you right, what was the magic word again?”
“Pl-please.”
Changbin thrusted you with his fingers more intensely and rapidly bringing your climax closer and, your wetness spilling out of you, dripping down his hand and onto his thighs and, with his typical smug grin, he pulled out of you without warning, making you sigh in exasperation, but you caught your breath, as you watched him finally pull down his shorts and underwear; Changbin looked to his sides a little guiltily, his heart was racing; his windows were shielded but the rush of having a little bit of public sex filled him with adrenaline again, pumping his cock to perfection.
Finally there it was, something you hadn’t planned at all from the beginning but still circumstances led you to it; his cock, nice and erect and thick, his little trimmed pubic hair in his area perfectly detonating to his rigid and throbbing member with its pink tip coated in shiny precum. The curiosity in you won, stroking it admiringly, from its tip to its base and its soft sensitive balls, you wanted to do so many things with it, take your time, but both of you were already in a very compromising situation.
“Go ahead, baby, ride me” he gasped, somewhat despairing at your sudden masturbation to his cock.
You raised your gaze and lifted your body a little again, bringing it closer to his erection, Changbin grabbed your hips while you leaned on his chest, then pushed the fabric of your panties aside with one hand and with the other you perfectly centered his hard cock at your entrance, finally letting you slowly drop into it, feeling every inch of him stretching your hole and walls; it felt so good in you, that you both gasped at the same time, but it felt even better with his full length inside, as if he was tailor-made for you.
You began to move, whimpering a little, the sensation was indescribable, Changbin finally for you.
“Move for me, move for me, fuck you’re doing great.”
You rode his cock, expecting nothing less from Changbin, but his babbles filling you with compliments made your nipples hard, you wanted to be touched by him, every part of you, completely vulnerable, but for the moment you had to settle for intense car sex, living off the pure sensation and the grotesque sound of your soaking wet core being stirred by his masculinity. Your tiny skirt covered the scene; just two best friends, with the girl jumping on her friend’s lap, panting. You felt complete, you didn’t want to leave him ever, his balls were rubbing against your pussy as he was so fucking deep in you and with your throbbing labia brushing against his body, you were completely rapt, Changbin was too strong to carry you easily and move your body at his mercy, his cock destroying beautifully inside you, you were whimpering in pure pleasure, never stopping babbling his name. You thought you were moving but he was doing his part too, intensifying each thrust into you.
Changbin tightened his grip on you, almost marking your skin, squeezing the fabric of your skirt tightly against you, he grunted loudly and you felt his cock throb in, followed by his orgasm shooting deep into your core, you couldn’t hold it back that long either, you twitched gently a couple more times as you watched him try to recover and you swooned completely into his body, culminating in a shuddering orgasm that altered every sense in you.
You both stared at each other, shaken and with a smirk of satisfaction as if you had won a prize you were aiming for.
。⋆୨୧˚ ⋆。°✩
𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @houseapologist @bubblebisk
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youunravelme · 4 months
Text
nothing happened in the way i wanted part 2
author's note: okay so here's part 2! sorry for making you wait, i like the anticipation lololol
summary: a year has passed and you are no closer to understanding why matt ended things and you have every plan of avoiding that thought until he comes back in town for the offseason, then suddenly he's everywhere.
pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader
warnings: ANGST, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, mention of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drinking, depression, panic attacks, let me know if i missed something! (these include the trigger warnings from part 1)
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before
a piece of plastic should not be that big of a deal.
but it is when there are two pink lines staring back at you.
weren’t you and matt careful? he always wore condoms, you were on birth control, you two were so careful all the time—
wait.
shit.
except for a few weeks ago.
you were wearing a red bikini at a pool party and matt had tugged you into the guest bathroom. he didn’t have any condoms and you assured him it was fine.
but maybe it wasn’t fine.
because there were two fucking pink lines staring back at you. and the worst part? matt wouldn’t be home for another two hours or so.
you were hyperventilating, surely. that’s why you felt like you couldn’t breathe?
oh god.
you were going to have to figure out how to raise a child while matt was on the road. oh god, what if he didn’t want the baby? what if you didn’t want the baby? what if he didn’t want the baby or you?
you were pacing back and forth in your living room when matt came home, arms full of bags from his workout. they immediately dropped when he saw the look on your face.
“what’s wrong?” he asked. “what happened? did someone die?”
you shook your head and burst into more tears. it was a mere second before you were wrapped up in his arms, one of his hands stroked your hair while the other stayed firmly put around your waist.
“baby, you’re scaring me.” at the sound of the pet name, you sobbed even harder. baby. there was a baby.
“i’m sorry, matty, i’m sorry,” you managed to get out between cries.
“what’re you sorry for, huh? you haven’t done anything wrong, have you?”
your hands were shaking as you pulled back from him, opening your palm to show the piece of plastic in your hand.
“what—” but matt seemed to have lost his voice at the sight of the pink lines staring back at him. “oh,” was the only thing he found fit to say.
“i’m sorry, matty. i thought it would be fine, but i went to the dollar store because i didn’t have any money and this was the only test available and—”
matt tugged you back into his chest. “it’s okay. we’ll figure it out.”
“we’re too young!” you wailed. “barely 20.”
“it’s one test, we’ll take another and if it’s still positive, we’ll go to the doctor,” he murmured against your hair. “wait,” he started. “where did you say you got the test?”
you pulled back, confused as to why his voice took a sudden turn from concern to something you couldn’t quite place. “dollar store, why?”
matt laughed. he threw his head back and laughed. “baby,” he started. “you chose a cheap test, it could be a false positive.”
you blinked. “is that how that works? i didn’t think—”
“let’s get another test, and we’ll take it, together.”
matt drove you both to the pharmacy, his hand on your thigh the entire ride. he went in alone, grabbed a box of clear blue and a bag of sour patch kids before he came back out. you almost burst into tears at the sight. as you ripped into the bag, matt’s hand found its way back to your thigh, his thumb rubbing soothing patterns into your pants leg.
the sour patch kids had done the job of calming your nerves for the moments leading up to retaking a pregnancy test. matt held your hand while the two of you waited for the timer to go off.
“whatever the result is, i’m with you,” he mumbled against the side of your head. and when the timer went off, matt was the one to check it, you were too overwrought with nerves. he didn’t even check the test, wanting you to see the result first.
negative.
a sigh escaped your mouth. your shoulders sagged as tears came to your eyes. relief wasn't a strong enough word to describe how you were feeling in that moment. matt pressed a kiss against your temple and wrapped you in his arms.
“one day,” he said. “just not today.”
after
maybe you were a bit of a coward, waiting for tuesday to come around before you texted matt a good time to meet. you waited until the last two minutes of your lunch break before you sent him a message. the second you heard the whoosh sound, you put your phone on do not disturb and shoved it in your bag so you could forget about it.
frankie popped his head into the studio while you were hunched over a canvas, carefully scraping away the back side of it to clean.
“you busy?” he asked.
you looked up before glancing down at the giant canvas in front of you. “i can take a small break, my back is killing me. do you need me to clean up? how long do you need me?”
frankie shrugged. “not long, so you don’t have to put anything away. i just wanted to talk to you about your future.”
your stomach dropped. “is this a segue into firing me?”
“you’re so dramatic,” frankie chuckled. “no, you’re not being fired. i’m more so trying to get you in a place where you can be compensated fairly one day.”
you blinked. “are you not compensating me fairly right now?”
frankie rolled his eyes. “you have a lot of talent, and unfortunately, i can’t pay you any more until you get a graduate degree in art conservation.”
confused, you nodded. “i know,” you said. “i started here for experience to use on grad school applications.”
“and have you applied anywhere yet?”
you opened your mouth and then promptly shut it again. no, no you had not.
frankie sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “look, you’re talented, i’ve said that plenty of times already and i want you to be successful, whether that’s as a conservator or an independent freelance painter. what i don’t want is you staying in st. louis forever in this job waiting around for something to happen.”
waiting for something to happen.
waiting.
what exactly were you waiting for?
frankie continued. “i’ve emailed you some of the best conservation programs in the states if that’s a route you wanna go. i honestly think you could do conservation or freelance painting, you’d be great at either, but that’s a choice only you can make. if you want to go to grad school, i will gladly write as many letters of recommendations as you’d need, i’d even help you by asking clients for some if that’s what you want, but the ball is in your court.”
for a moment, you were floored, truly astounded that someone would go through those lengths to help you figure out your life. for now, all you could manage to say was a “thank you.”
“anytime,” frankie replied.
he left the studio room shortly thereafter so you could continue the mindless scraping once more.
when the work day was finally done, your hand was sore from the constant repetitive motions and your back ached from hunching over. but at least the scraping was done.
you grabbed your bag and car keys and headed out the front door. the aux was the first thing you reached for after locking yourself in the car. it wasn’t until you searched your bag to grab your phone that you remembered the text you sent matt earlier that day, the reason why your phone was on do not disturb.
you:
what does your week look like?
matt had responded two minutes after your initial text.
matty:
i’m free tonight, or any other time you’re free.
you rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the smile on your face.
you:
i just got off work, let me go home and change and we can find a place to meet.
you barely managed to get the music flowing through the aux when your phone buzzed with a text.
matty:
you can always stop by the house? mom, dad, and taryn would love to see you. we could go on a walk around the neighborhood...
your stomach churned at the thought, it felt a little too close, too familiar. but there were very few places in that city that wouldn’t spark some sort of memory for you. you grew up there, you grew up there with matt. there were seldom spaces that weren’t deeply intertwined in your co written story with him.
you:
that’s fine.
neither of your parents were home when you got there, which was probably for the best, it meant you wouldn’t get asked where you were going or why you agreed to talk to matt after all this time.
you made the drive to his parents’ house. it felt as familiar as putting on the old t-shirt you’d stolen from your mom before you left for college. you didn’t need the gps, even after the time had passed.
you parked in the same spot you always did when you finally got a car to drive to matthew’s. it wasn’t like that spot on the street was used very often, not when you were dating at least. matt hated making you drive, especially when his car was newer and better and by all of his standards, safer than yours.
by the time you made it onto the front porch, taryn was opening the front door and smiling so wide, her eyes were squinting.
“you’re here!” she shrieked. it was only a matter of seconds before you were wrapped in her arms. “what brings you here?”
your mouth opened to respond, but you were promptly cut off.
“she’s with me.”
matt appeared over taryn’s shoulder looking every bit the man you fell in love with all those years ago.
taryn pulled back from the hug, her eyes wide. “what? she’s with—”
“not like that,” you smiled gently. “just came to talk, figure some things out.”
“are you staying for dinner?”
you looked at matt, unsure if that was something he’d even want. “it’s up to you, i won't force you to stay,” he said.
you shrugged. “we’ll play it by ear.”
matt nodded and moved past taryn. “you good for a walk?” he asked, eyes never once leaving your face. and you couldn’t help but stare back, getting lost in the pools of blue that once were your whole world. you felt yourself nod right before following him down the stairs and off the porch.
neither of you said anything until you were both sure his family couldn’t see you from their house anymore.
“thank you,” you said. “i should’ve said that the other night.”
matt shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. “you don't need to thank me for that. i’m sorry that happened.”
“you couldn’t have done anything to prevent it.”
“i could’ve told the bartender to stop giving him drinks when i saw how drunk you were.”
your head whipped to the side to look at him, but matt wouldn’t return your stare. his jaw was tightly clenched. “how’d you even know i was there?”
mat shrugged and kicked a rock out of the way. “i always notice you, even when i don’t mean to.”
there were no words coming to your mind, nothing you could say could add to the conversation. so you nodded and looked ahead of you.
“i wanted to apologize—”
“matt—”
“for everything.”
you stopped walking altogether. “don’t,” you said. “don’t say that. don’t apologize.”
matt’s brows pulled together, the corners of his lips turned down. “why?”
“because i don’t want it.” words you thought you’d never say.
did you mean them? it felt like you did. for months, you’d waited for a moment for him to apologize, to admit that he regretted it. but now that you were faced with this decision, you weren’t sure it was an apology you wanted.
“what do you want, then?” he asked, earnestly this time.
you looked down at your beaten up hokas, the ones you bought after moving back to missouri, needing something that didn’t used to stay in the apartment you shared with matthew. the shoes were only a few months old, but they were discolored and dirty. you wore them to work, and often got droplets of solvent or paint on them when you weren’t paying attention.
matt’s foot nudged your own. “what do you want?” he repeated.
“did you cheat on me?” your eyes were still trained on the ground, so you didn’t see the look of hurt in matt’s eyes. you only saw the way he stepped back immediately.
“what?” he asked, pain clear in his voice. “why would you think that? i would never do that to you. you have to know that, please know that i’d never cheat on you.”
you shrugged, still not making eye contact. maybe you were scared if you did, you’d start crying, and he’d seen you cry enough times since he’d been back in town. “you broke up with me over a five minute phone call, matt. it was out of the blue, didn’t make any sense. the only reason i could think of was that you got tired of me and found someone better.”
matt scoffed. “i could never find someone better than you,” he said. “and never in my wildest dreams or thoughts did i ever even consider cheating on you.”
you finally met his eyes. the once bright blue irises were now darker, whether in pain or anger, you didn’t know. you weren’t sure how much had changed with him since the break up. “then why’d you end it? why’d you wait until you were traded and nearly halfway into the season to tell me it’s over?”
“because i didn’t want you to move to florida.”
you figured as much, but it still stung hearing it confirmed.
“why?” you asked.
“because you kept putting off your life for me! i hated it!” matt was pacing now, shoving his hands through his hair.
at the same time, your head tilted. you wanted answers. you wanted the reason why he'd ended things out of nowhere and the reason he just gave you wasn’t enough. “what’re you talking about?”
matt stopped moving long enough to fix you with a look. “you wanted to go to ucla until i committed to notre dame. and then when i signed with calgary, you transferred after a year.”
“so?”
matt scoffed. “so?”
“i wanted to do that!”
“and i wanted you to be yourself, i wanted you to chase your dreams without worrying about me, without altering your life just to stay with me!”
you stepped back. “so you didn’t want me with you?”
“that’s not what i said!”
“then what are you trying to say, matt? we’re just not compatible? headed in two different directions?”
“i—” he groaned and ran a hand down his face before shoving that same hand through his disheveled curls. “i wanted to do right by you. you are so gifted, and you could’ve gone to any school you wanted, but you followed me. i didn’t want to be the reason you never got to do what makes you happy.”
“so you took the one thing i wanted away from me?”
“you weren’t going to choose yourself! you were never going to choose yourself, so i did.”
“that wasn’t your choice to make, matt!” you couldn’t help but want to rip your hair out. who was he to think he could make decisions for you?
he took a step closer to you before immediately stepping backwards and pacing. “i have known you my entire life,” he said. it was an exaggeration, you both knew it, but as you both got older, it was harder to remember the years before you were in each other’s lives. “you are the kindest person i know, the best person i know. you have made more than enough sacrifices for me, for this game i love. but i was tired of being the only one living out their dream. you love art, or at least you did. you loved it, you painted all the time growing up. but when you moved to calgary? you stopped. you went to my games, galas, team events, instead. i wanted you to have something that you loved just as much as i love hockey.”
“and what if that was you? what if i was okay just supporting you?”
he shook his head adamantly. “you deserve more than that. i love you too much to let you live like that.”
you furrowed your brow. “live like what? supporting the love of my life as he lives out his dreams?” you tentatively took a step closer to him, imploring matt to look at you. “why is that such a bad thing?”
“because what if it’s not enough?” he looked up. you were shocked to see tears brimming in his eyes. “what if one day, you wake up next to me and resent me for dragging you all over the continent for a stupid sport?”
“it’s not a stupid sport—”
“it is when i’ve seen it ruin people, ruin their relationships.”
“but you ruined ours when you broke up with me, matt. how does that make any sense?” his mouth opened and shut once, twice, three times before he avoided your eyes altogether. “matt, how does that make sense?” you took a step towards him, slowly but moving. “matt?”
“i could handle it if you hated me,” he said. “i could learn to live with it if it meant you got to be happy in the end.”
your heart broke, your face crumpled as you watched the man you’d loved for a decade shuffle shoe around what he was actually trying to say. “why couldn’t i be happy with you, matt? why isn’t that possible in your mind?”
you waited for him to say something. it felt like you waited forever. but you would’ve waited for the cows to come home if it meant honesty from him.
“because i’m never gonna be enough for that.”
you thought the phone call from six months ago ripped your heart in half, you fully believed he’d done the most damage then. if your heart was going to be broken again, surely it would be when you would inevitably see another girl hanging off his arm at brady and emma’s wedding.
but there you were, standing in front of the man you still loved, heart breaking even worse because he believed he wasn’t enough. he wasn’t enough.
“matt—”
“to me? you’re everything. you’re literally the smartest person i know and you’re so talented and kind and considerate.” he laughed a little under his breath. “i still remember you shaking in the goal while i practiced my shots. i was waiting for you to say you didn’t want to do it, but you did it because you knew how much it meant to me.”
you smiled as you remembered the moment he was talking about. you were eleven and your crush on matt was just starting to form. you would’ve done anything he asked even if it meant flinching every two seconds.
“breaking up with you was the worst thing i’ve ever done, but if it meant sparing you the life of forever being forced to follow me around, it would be worth it.”
you stepped closer to him, uncaring that the two of you had been having this conversation in the middle of the sidewalk of his neighborhood. “who put this idea in your head, matt? was it me? was it—”
“your parents.”
you barely even heard the “what” leave your lips, so you were unsure how matt did. he looked as uncomfortable as you felt.
“i was gonna propose when you moved to florida. i bought the ring before the season ended and over the summer i had every intention of asking your dad for his blessing.” matt cleared his throat before finally looking up at the sky. the sun, thankfully, was beginning to set, golden hour was coming soon. “you’d gone out with our moms, emma, and taryn, and i went over to your house to talk to your dad.”
you weren’t liking where the story was going.
“he asked if i would quit hockey for you.”
your stomach dropped to your feet.
“when i said i would in a heartbeat, he didn’t believe me.”
your stomach was in the core of the earth.
“matt...”
he swallowed and looked at you. “i would do it, you know. if you’d asked me, i would’ve given hockey up in a heartbeat to keep you.”
“i know, matty, i know,” you said, the nickname slipping out before you could stop it. “what else did my dad say?”
matt shook his head.
“matt,” you implored.
but he didn't relent.
“matthew.” you took a step closer, finally, after months of little to no physical contact, your hand cupped his cheek. and like he had no control over his body, like he was acting on pure instinct, he leaned into your palm. “what did he say?”
he shook his head again. “i can’t.”
“you can.” you stroked your thumb along his cheekbone.
“he asked if this was the life i wanted for you. the moving around, the fighting, the crazy schedules, the tweets, all of it. he asked verbatim if that’s the kind of life i wanted you to live, if i wanted you under a microscope for the rest of our lives. he told me that he knew why i was there, and that if i thought you’d be happy to a life like that, then he'd give me his blessing.”
your hand shook a little, but matt’s hand steadied it against his face.
“it’s not that i thought you were weak,” he clarified. “it’s not that i didn’t want you, because i did. i just didn’t want you to be stuck with me for the rest of our lives.”
“is that what he said? that if we got married, i’d be shackled to you?”
matt shrugged, but in his silence, you found the answer.
“matty,” again, the nickname slipping out before you could stop it. “i’m sorry, you should’ve said something—”
“and cause problems between you and your dad?” he shook his head. “you love him, i wasn’t gonna come between that.”
you could’ve cried at that sentiment. after all this time, he was still looking out for you. “thank you, matt. thank you for being honest.”
he gave you a small smile, one that broke your heart as much as it mended it. “you staying for dinner?”
the temptation was there, to go inside and sit in your old seat next to him, to feel your shoulders brush like they used to when the two of you were still together. maybe you’d laugh at something brady said, maybe you’d compliment chantal on her cooking.
but there were bigger fish to fry at home in the shape of your father.
so you shook your head no. “i think you know i have to go.”
matt nodded. “i get it.”
the two of you turned around and started walking back to your car. in the end, you didn’t walk very far so you were standing next to your vehicle in a matter of minutes.
“thank you for agreeing to talk,” matt said, his hands shoved deep in his pocket.
“thanks for telling me the truth.”
matt opened your door and braced his forearm on the roof of your car while you got in. “i’ll see you around?” he asked.
you smiled. “don’t be a stranger, tkachuk.”
he laughed and knocked on the roof of your car before shutting the door. you watched him in your rearview mirror as you drove away. all the years you were together, there were only a few times you could remember walking away from him.
the drive home was quiet, you were stewing on what you'd say to your dad when you got back. you were pissed, upset, angry.
but most importantly, you were in agony.
the man you loved your whole life let you hate him for six months so you wouldn't hate your dad. he let you make him into a villain so you had the support of your parents.
and maybe it was that thought process that had you throwing your car in park and storming up to your childhood home and all but slamming the front door wide open.
your mom and dad were sitting in the living room, neither of them interacting with the other in any meaningful way. no, this wasn’t the tkachuk house. your parents weren’t in love anymore, they were content with the idea of not having to find anyone else.
“matt was gonna propose to me?” you asked, chest already heaving from the anger coursing through your body. your eyes were on fire, if looks could kill and such.
your dad, to his credit, managed to catch onto what you were talking about immediately and put his book down.
but your mom cut in. “sweetheart, what're you—”
“ask him,” you interrupted, but didn't spare her a single glance, something you'd apologize for later. “go ahead, ask him what i’m talking about. ask dad why matt broke up with me out of nowhere.”
“honey....” your dad started. you waited for him to continue, to justify something, to say it was a huge misunderstanding, but he said nothing.
“alan, what is she talking about?”
you still wouldn't look at your mom. your eyes were fixed on the figure of your father who sat still in his recliner. “i went to talk to matt today, get some closure, figure out what went wrong with us. dad convinced matthew that i would feel shackled to him if he proposed, if we got married. he planted this idea in matt’s head that he wouldn’t be enough to keep me happy.”
that seemed to be enough to get your dad speaking. “you have so much potential, honey, i didn’t want to see it wasted chasing him around.”
you rolled your eyes. “i was happy to do it. he was everything to me.”
“and you should’ve been everything. you should want to be great, you should want to be a great painter, you should want to accomplish great things.” your dad gestured between himself and your mother. “you think we want this for you? to choose a partner just based on love? what happens when that love runs out? what happens when you get married, have kids, and matthew get bored on the road? what then?”
your stomach twisted at the thought. “matt would never.”
“maybe not, honey. but you have to understand, i was looking out for you.”
you scoffed before you could stop yourself. “looking out for me? you literally held me while i sobbed a few weeks ago and told me that maybe matt had changed when you knew damn well the reason things had ended.” you ran a hand down your face and laughed bitterly. “do you wanna know the worst part about this? you let me believe the worst things about the man who has loved me most of my life.
“you let me hate the man who wanted nothing more than to protect my happiness. and then you had me going on absolute bullshit pep talks to myself every morning where i’d tell myself i’m fine, that matthew brendan tkachuk was just a guy i dated for almost half my life and that there are plenty of fish in the sea to choose from. and that i’m a woman, a strong, intelligent, and capable woman that any man would be lucky to have! but i went on a date the other night and something really awful almost happened, but matt was there and he made sure i was okay. he took my vitriol in stride, he protected me without ruining my life, something you can’t seem to do.”
your dad, to his credit took your spewing words with a straight face. he didn’t interrupt you once.
your shoulders were heaving with the force of breaths you were taking to get all those words out. your heart was pounding in your chest. you were angry. angry. angry.
until it dissipated at the look on your parents’ faces.
tears replaced the anger quite quickly.
“i get you were trying to protect me, but you should’ve seen the look on his face when he told me. dad, i love you, but you damn near ruined my life.”
your father nodded, a shattered look on his face. “sweetheart i—if i’d known—” he cleared his throat. “i’m sorry. i thought i was doing right by you, trying to keep you from making the same mistakes.”
“and what mistakes are those? falling in love? getting married to the person you loved? getting to live the rest of your life together?”
“falling complacent,” your mother said. “getting too comfortable, becoming roommates instead of lovers.” your mother was picking at her nail beds, refusing to look at either of you. “i was not a part of the conversation your dad had with matthew, but i will not lie and say that your behavior didn’t concern me, because it did.” your mother held a hand up when you opened your mouth. “you didn’t have any ambition! you were sacrificing your dreams for him, aimlessly following him.”
“mom—”
“i have found myself lost before, lost in this marriage, lost in motherhood, lost in my job. i did not want that for you, neither of us did.” your mother stood from her seat on the couch and walked towards you. she placed her hand on your cheek. “i know you love him, and maybe he’s your person, but we did not,” she cleared her throat, “i did not want you to grow up regretting and resenting matt because you were too young to know what you wanted.”
your mom’s thumb traced your cheekbone. she stared you down with the eyes that matched your own. “do you remember when you were younger, you would draw these beautiful pieces with your colored pencils?”
you nodded.
“you don’t draw anymore, sweetheart. your art supplies are still in a box in the attic where they have been since you've moved back home. from my viewpoint, i see the little girl i raised chasing the man she loves and neglecting herself in the process. you’ve spent most of your life following matthew, but what about you? when will it be your turn?”
your bottom lip wobbled.
you were nine years old again, showing matt the self portrait you did and watching his face light up.
“you should draw me sometime!” he said.
and you did. all through middle school, high school, undergrad, all of it was matt matt matt matt matt. even if it wasn’t his face, even if it wasn’t hockey related, it was matt. the colors swirling together, the passion beneath the oils, all of it reflecting him.
you were so pissed at your dad, for telling matt what he did, but you were pissed at yourself as well, for neglecting who you were.
who were you anyway?
the fight left you pretty soon after your mother’s words were spoken. the hard truth of them still lingered in the air.
you went to bed that night and stared at the ceiling, trying to imagine what you would paint if the surface was a canvas instead.
before
you would’ve never picked up your phone had you known what was waiting on the other side of it.
the day started off simple enough. your apartment was a mess, usually at that time of year, it would be covered in christmas decorations and presents would be wrapped under the tree you and matt picked out from a tree farm. this time, there were boxes strewn about the room in anticipation of the move you’d be making to florida in just a few weeks. the plan was you’d fly into st. louis and have all your belongings that you didn’t need to survive, shipped to your new home in florida.
you were in the middle of packing up the last of your summer clothes into a box when matt called. it felt like a flip had been switched, because any exhaustion that was set deep in your bones from the work week disappeared the second you saw his contact photo on your lock screen.
“hey!” you said, smile so wide, your cheeks ached. “how’re you doing?”
“hey,” he replied, but his voice sounded off.
“everything okay?” you asked. “i saw the game last night, i’m sorry about the loss.”
“don’t worry about it.”
“oh,” you said. “well i have most of the apartment packed up, just need to put the rest of my clothes in my suitcases. i’ve already arranged the rest of our things to be shipped and—”
“i don't think you should move to florida.”
all the words in the world and all you could say was “what?”
matt sighed over the other end of the phone. “i didn’t mean to say it like that.”
“but you still meant to say it?”
“look, this isn’t easy for me to admit but, i don’t think it’s a good idea for you to move to florida. i don't even think it’s a good idea to keep this going.”
“keep what going?”
he sighed again. “this, us, our relationship. i just don’t think it’s working.”
well that was news to you.
you swallowed, your hands were shaking. it wasn’t until you couldn’t see straight that you realized you were crying.
“since when? i thought we were fine! what did i miss? what can i do to fix this?”
the battle of alberta had nothing on matt’s silence ringing through the phone. with each passing second, you felt the hope of repairing and fixing your relationship dwindle.
“i don’t think there’s anything to fix.”
the world had stopped spinning, even as he continued on, talking about the next steps you'd need to take, how he would continue to pay the lease, he’d cover the moving expenses to switch destinations of your things.
it all made you want to vomit.
how could he speak about the logistics of your break up when you felt like you couldn’t get past the actual reality of your breakup? your world was caving in and he seemed fine.
at the end of the call, he apologized. “i’m sorry,” he said.
all you could say was “okay.”
five minutes, your phone said when you looked at the call log.
matthew tkachuk had ruined your life in five fucking minutes.
after
frankie had to be the weirdest boss you ever had. when you called him and said you needed a few days off to sort things out in your personal life, he jumped at the chance to tell you to take a day or two off immediately.
“i can’t pay you for those days, but if it means you feel better, go ahead and take off. we’ll be fine.”
which is how you ended up sitting in your room for eight hours, staring at a blank canvas.
your hands shook anytime you reached for a paintbrush. what if it was the wrong brush? the wrong color? what if it was bad? ugly? what if you hated it?
you'd communicated those same thoughts to simone over the phone when you called on her lunch break, trying to keep yourself from crying over a blank canvas.
“it’s gonna be difficult at first,” she started. “but you have to start somewhere, even if it’s just a dot in the middle of the canvas.”
and you'd repeated her words in your head, yet you couldn’t force yourself to do anything about it. this was supposed to be about you, yet everything you were doing reminded you of him. it was the particular blue you used to mix together to represent his eyes. it was the red from calgary. it was the yellow that reminded you of the t-shirt you wore when matt first kissed you.
what would you even paint? the living room of your first shared apartment? saddledome? this was supposed to be about you, so why did you keep wanting to make it about matt? what was wrong with you? your parents were right, you lost yourself in trying to be the most supportive girlfriend around.
the second day didn’t produce much results either and when you finally went back to work, you looked and felt like you hadn’t rested at all.
“that bad, huh?” frankie asked.
“i didn't think it’d be that hard to paint, it’s literally never been that hard before.”
“you gotta just let it go.” when he didn't say anything else, you gestured for him to continue. “stop expecting it to be a masterpiece or to be meaningful, art is about you, not perfection.”
“but—”
frankie held a hand up, just like your mother had. “when you're here, it’s about doing right by the painting, the art itself. when you create though, it’s about doing right by you.”
you floated through your workday, your fingers itched to do something more than scraping dirt and grime off the back of a canvas. they longed for the oil based paint to stick to them. they longed for the cramping in your hand that came from holding a brush too long.
but you started.
you turned on some classical music and started.
you weren’t even sure what you were painting until you were staring back at the ice rink in front of you, empty, just like you were feeling. you should’ve known it would've had something to do with ice.
maybe it was foolish to believe you could completely get rid of matt in one painting. you'd known him longer than you hadn’t. but frankie’s words kept echoing in your head.
it’s about doing right by you.
so instead of painting matt or his number, or the curls on top of his head, you painted something else entirely. blurred figures raced past a lone frame standing completely still. the slumped shoulders of the person in stuck in one place, the lack of proper equipment, no ice skates, no sweater.
after days of painting and plotting and painting and waiting, it was finished. an ice rink with a person completely stationary while life moves around her.
it wasn’t your best piece, but it was your most honest.
it was like a dam had been broken because you couldn’t stop painting the silly little pieces of your feelings. you were losing space in your bedroom, and your phone had been neglected for two weeks.
now, you still responded to texts in the bridesmaid group chat, and you texted simone frequently. but your brain was taken up by this reawakened, once dormant, passion of yours. it was all you could think about.
your fingers were practically permanently stained with paint. you hadn’t changed out of your paint clothes all weekend, living in the spandex and one of your dad’s old t-shirts. the past few days, you’d been a hermit, only leaving the house to go to work. and while you weren’t completely anti social, you weren’t going out of your way to get in contact with people.
your parents were out on a rare date night while you were up in your room adding little details to your painting. the music playing through your phone’s speakers had lulled you into another world. you were all but lost to reality.
thump.
you paused, brush poised over the canvas. you listened again for the sound but heard nothing. so you continued.
thump thump.
you glanced at the window just in time to see a rock hit it. before you could stop yourself, you sighed and chuckled.
you felt like you were in high school again.
when you opened your window, sure enough matt was standing outside with a handful of stones in his hands. “you busy?” he asked.
at the sight of his boyish smile, your heart leapt. “what’re you doing here?”
he shrugged. “just wanted to see you.”
be careful, your head warned you. he’s not yours anymore.
but your heart didn’t give a shit. try as hard as you might, you were almost positive you’d love matt the rest of your life. “you couldn’t knock on the door?”
he shrugged again. “i tried, you didn’t hear me.” he shifted on his feet. “so are you busy?”
you glanced back at the painting you'd been obsessing over all day and decided you could leave it for a little while. “gimme a sec.”
very quickly, you cleaned up your art supplies before you ran down the stairs. you snagged your keys out of the basket by the door and locked the front door behind you.
matt had moved off your lawn and was now propped up against the passenger door of his car. “wanna go for a drive?”
how could you deny him anything when he looked so happy to see you?
“you’ve been busy,” he said as soon as he pulled out of the driveway. you did your best not to pay attention to how good his arm looked behind your head rest as he backed out into the street.
“how do you figure?”
matt put the car in drive, but before he pulled away, he gestured to your forehead. “you have paint, everywhere.” you could feel the heat crawl up your neck as you opened the sun visor to look in the mirror. sure enough, streaks of paint covered your cheeks. matt reached over and shut it with one hand. “stop it,” he said. “you look great.”
“even with the paint?”
“especially with the paint. you look happy again.” a beat passed. “are you?”
you thought about it for a moment. a few weeks ago, you were in the trenches, suffocating in the unknown, drawing in questions that had no answers. and while you were still single, even as you sat in the passenger seat of the man that you still loved, you felt capable. you felt like you could handle life. no longer were you floating, waiting for a strong breeze to blow you away from your reality. you still might depend on having wind in your sails, but at least you were a boat with a steering wheel instead of a helium balloon.
“i think i’m getting there. i’m not as angry anymore, i’m painting again.” you gestured to your face. “though you could probably tell.
“what have you been painting?”
how could you explain it? how could you possibly articulate that while you were still searching for what it meant to be you, you had somehow uncovered fragments of yourself that you’d lost along the way?
“myself.”
matt smiled, his eyes crinkled in the corners. “that’s what i like to hear. you enjoying it?”
“more than i thought i would, once i got over the fear.”
“fear? what were you scared of?”
you picked at the dirt under your fingernails. “not being good enough.”
matt made a sound between a scoff and a snicker, like the words coming out of your mouth were so incredibly stupid it was both alarming and hilarious. “are you fucking with me? you’re the most talented person i know!”
you rolled your eyes before you could stop yourself. “you play with some of the best athletes in the world—”
“and none of them could hold a candle to you.” he braked easily when you came up to a red light.
and you weren’t sure why you said what you said next, maybe it was the intimacy of the environment or maybe, when it came down to it, you wanted matt to hear all your updates first.
“i think i’m gonna apply to more grad schools again. i talked to frankie, he gave me some information and said he’d write as many recommendations as i needed.”
you wanted to be brave and look at matthew, you wanted to see his reaction in real time. but you couldn’t bring yourself to. whether that was because the moment felt too intimate for eye contact between exes or the you were afraid you'd see real time disappointment, you weren’t sure.
“is that something you wanna do?” his voice was soft. you could feel his eyes on your profile.
that was a question you'd asked yourself over and over again. was it something you were legitimately interested in? or were you like every twenty-something who applies for grad school when they don't know what else to do?
“i think there's just as much beauty in restoring as there is in creating.” in a split second, you decided you could be brave, so you looked back at him. “i don’t think i should have to choose between one of the other.
matt nodded, his hands white against the steering wheel. “do you think everything deserves a chance at restoration?” he asked, his blue eyes filled with a sincerity only he could replicate.
“i think anything can be fixed if someone cares enough to try.”
feeling bold, you spared him a glance from the corner of your eye. matt had his head down for a brief moment, a small smile on his lips.
there were words that hung in the air like the car freshener on matt’s rearview mirror, yet neither of you spoke them. both of you were more than content to bask in the silence rather than answer unasked questions that you weren’t ready to acknowledge.
before
matt wasn’t at school that day, and you were the reason why. he hardly ever missed, even with his busy hockey schedule and his dad’s games, chantal always made sure to have her kids in school. if they weren’t rich, you’d assume his parents had the same thought process your grandparents did: they weren’t forking out all this money just for their kids to be absent all the time.
which brought you back to your original thought.
matt wasn’t at school.
and you were the reason.
well. that wasn’t entirely true. matt’s decisions were his own, even if the two of you were in fifth grade, you were both mature enough to own your mistakes.
and he made a big one.
it started at the beginning of the school year when jared, a new kid, started bothering you during class. you'd done what your parents had taught you and told the teacher. but mrs. wright just looked at you with a condescending smile and said:
“aw honey, he just has a crush on you!”
you were met with the same excuse each time you told her.
you’d tried to keep it to yourself, done your best to get over it, but he was too forward. on monday, he teased the way your uniform looked, which was a sore subject because your parents couldn’t afford to buy you a new uniform and your grandparents were being stingy with money in an effort to manipulate your mother. you were old enough to start recognizing that now.
on tuesday, jared criticized your doodles on a sheet of scrap paper, saying they looked childish. wednesday was no better, he snickered and pointed at you when you messed up a note playing hot cross buns on your recorder. thursday was when things took a left turn.
jared hadn't been at school for long to fully understand the dynamic between you and matt, not like the other kids did. he was smart enough to approach you when matt wasn’t around for the most part. maybe it was the confidence of the lack of punishment and accountability from your teacher and school administration that made him bold enough to tug on your hair and push you down during recess right in front of matthew.
you didn’t have enough time to shed a tear before matt was on jared.
to put it simply, physically fighting someone was grounds for suspension. it probably should’ve been a longer suspension had you and your parents not said jared had been harassing you for weeks now with no consequences.additionally, the amount of money the tkachuks sewed into the school probably helped lessen his punishment too.
“you shouldn’t have beat him up,” you said. the two of you were sitting on the back porch of matt’s house. originally, you expected matt to be grounded from seeing you as a punishment, but given the context, keith and chantal both said it would've been unfair.
matt shrugged. “he should’ve kept his hands to himself.” his words sounded similar to the ones you heard from his father earlier that day when you and matthew were sitting outside the principal’s office. 
“mr. tkachuk, we do not condone violence at this school.”
“but you do condone harassment? bullying? my son was doing what your administration failed to do, and that’s protect his best friend.”
“i don't like it when you're in trouble.”
“and i don’t like seeing some jerk hurt you.” matt nudged your knee with his own. “besides, i’ll be back on monday. ‘s not like i was expelled.”
“just don’t make it a habit.”
“no promises,” he said. “i’ll always fight for you.”
after
the wedding approached faster than you thought it would. you spent the last seven months dreading emma and brady’s big day, scared of what seeing matt in a tux would do to your heart. originally, you didn't think you could handle it, you never thought you'd actually get to the wedding day and not want to cancel last minute.
but now you were standing in the bridal suite adding finishing touches to your makeup in the vanity feeling every bit of happiness for emma that you were faking just months ago.
life was starting to turn around for you. just last week, frankie had helped you finish your applications to some grad programs in art restoration and conservation. you were holding out hope for nyu, but didn’t want to get your hopes up.
“how’re you feeling?” taryn came up behind you where you were lined up in preparation to walk . 
“ready for some wine and the reception,” you answered honestly. “i’m so excited.” and you were telling the truth for once. your smile felt genuine.
“matt will be excited to see you,” she said. “you look so pretty.”
you rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile from forming on your lips. “oh hush, this isn’t about us, not even remotely close.”
taryn rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. “maybe...” she trailed off before the wedding planner was moving her into position.
your hands shook as you held the bouquet. lily, one of the other bridesmaids looked back at you and mouthed “are you okay?” when you nodded and gave her a shaky smile, she turned around.
you weren’t nervous for a good reason, but walking in front of crowds always scared you. what if you tripped? what if the heel of your shoe broke? what if what if what—
but then it was your turn to walk down the aisle and every anxious thought went quiet the second you saw matthew.
it really wasn’t fair, how he could put you at ease so easily, without even saying a single word. how his blue eyes would meet yours and the racing of your heart would beat for a different reason. sure, there were moments where you were anxious around him, around the feelings that came with dating for ten years, but the truth was you never felt more safe than you did in his arms.
you kept your eyes locked on his as you walked down the aisle. not once did you stumble or fall. though, you nearly laughed out loud when he winked at you. a flush creeped into your cheeks when he smirked. you’d known him most of your life and you were still reduced to a school girl whenever he looked at you. when you made it to the end, you took your spot next to lily, taryn eventually took the spot next to you.
personally, you loved weddings. you cried every time. so obviously you were wiping tears with brady when emma walked down the aisle. it was almost surreal, watching the boy you knew as when he was eight years old was now marrying the love of his life. when did you grow up? when did that happen?
you met matt’s eyes over brady’s shoulder. in another life, it would've been you two getting married. the very thought sent an ache through your chest, but it didn't hurt the way it did a few months ago, hell, even a few weeks ago.
sure, you might not have ended up with matt, but you reconciled. he would still be in your life, even if it wasn't in the same capacity as before. that thought used to be debilitating, now you were just thankful he was around at all.
the crowd cheered as brady kissed emma. you could barely see them through the tears. you managed to wipe most of them away in time to walk back down the aisle. you were supposed to be linking arms and walking back down the aisle with quinn hughes. so when matt was standing there and holding his arm out, you almost stumbled back out of sheer confusion. in a haze, you took his arm.
“you weren’t supposed to walk me,” you said just loud enough for him to hear.
matt scoffed and pulled you a little closer. “like i was letting hughes walk you back down the aisle. that’s my job.”
“you messed up the order.”
he shrugged like the idea didn't bother him in the slightest. “brady will get over it, if he even notices.” the two of you had just walked down the aisle when you went to pull away, but his arm tightened around yours. “you look beautiful,” he said before releasing your arm and walking off.
it felt like you were stuck, rooted where you were standing, until the wedding planner ushered you along to take photos.
you were floating through the pictures, only barely remembering to smile and look at the camera. matt’s words floated around in your head in an endless loop. 
when it was time for dinner, you entered with quinn like you were supposed to (and to matt’s chagrin). brady and emma did not want to confuse the dj who was announcing everyone. quinn indulged your excitement and twirled you under his arm as the two of you walked out. there was a huge smile on your face at the sheer fun of it all, a smile that didn't dissipate until you were both seated with the rest of the wedding party.
you were happily chatting with quinn, asking him about how his girlfriend was, and eating your dinner when emma’s maid of honor stood up and started her speech. to be quite frank, you knew it was a beautiful nod to her friendship with emma, but you weren’t fully paying attention, too enraptured with the food and wine in front of you. though, you did clap where you were supposed to and laughed when everyone else did.
it wasn’t until matt stood up to give his speech that you were dialed in. and maybe that made you a horrible person.
you knew matt well enough to know he didn't prepare a speech, not like the maid of honor did. he'd told you so once brady and emma got engaged.
“are you not gonna write your speech down?”
“nope,’ he said, popping the p.
“but he's your brother.”
“the only one who is getting a planned and fleshed out speech is you, when i propose and when we get married. everyone else gets the improvised speech.”
so you weren't surprised when he didn’t have a slip of paper in his hand like the maid of honor.
“thank you all for coming to celebrate the marriage of brady and emma with us. i know it means a lot to them, to see the support they have all around,” he began. “i’ve known brady his whole life, obviously. so i know better than most that he’s a menace to society. both on and off the rink. but seeing him with you, emma, well you’ve brought the little bit of good out in him.” the crowd chuckled at the slight, you even cracked a smile, especially when brady flipped him off.
“love is the best thing this world has to offer,” he continues. “who are we without it? what is life without it?” matt looked around the room until his eyes settled on you, locked in. “falling in love is, dare i say, better than the game itself. once you experience it, there is no game that could hold a candle to the feeling. i’ve found it, and i’m happy that you, brady and emma, found it too. just hold onto it, don’t let it go. not when it gets hard, especially not when things look bad. it’s those times you hold on tighter.” 
maybe it was the lighting, but his eyes looked a little misty.
matt cleared his throat. “so here’s to the bride and groom, may you have nothing but good years ahead.”
you swallowed the lump in your throat and clapped along with everyone else. but matt’s eyes never left yours. you could feel his gaze on your face even as you talked to quinn. but he was on the other side of the table closer to brady.
it wasn’t until the dancing started that he even approached you.
outkast’s hey ya blasted over the speakers when matt found you. his hand immediately slid into yours as he tugged you closer.
“great speech!” you shouted over the music. “did you prepare it beforehand?”
matt spun you around. “you know i didn’t. i’m saving prepared speeches for special occasions.”
you expected the answer but played dumb anyway. “your brother’s wedding not a big enough occasion?”
he scoffed, like the very idea was offensive. “not even remotely close. only the love of my life deserves the written speeches.” he pulled you a little closer. your stomach twisted at the thought of him falling in love with someone else, but it didn't hurt the way it would've months ago. “but considering i broke up with her before i could propose, that’s not happening any time soon.”
your heart lurched in your chest, yet you felt yourself stepping back. “matt....”
he sighed like he knew what you were going to say. “i know we need to talk, and that this isn't the time, but can i just dance with you tonight? like nothing changed?”
and in the end, you wouldn’t be able to deny him anything.
you allowed him to spin you around and hold you close when the music slowed down. you allowed yourself to pretend all of it was real. you allowed yourself to live in this fictitious world where new jersey was the happiest place on earth simply because you had matt. the last seven months hadn't happened, you were still together, your future was certain, and maybe one of these days, he'd get down on one knee and ask for forever.
you played pretend even when the night was coming to a close. even when you were all waving goodbye to emma and brady. even when you gathering your things, matt was there, holding your bags for you and walking you to the car you rented.
“when do you fly back to st. louis?” he asked.
“tomorrow. i have work on monday.”
he grimaced. “frankie wouldn't let you off?”
you rolled your eyes and smiled. “some of us don't make millions of dollars and need to pay our bills, matt.”
“right,” he said. “forgot about that.” he cleared his throat and stepped closer to you. “do you think we could get coffee when i get back in town? i really think we should talk.”
you reached out and took his hand in yours. “just let me know when you’re back.”
and he did. days later when you were back at work on your lunch break, you got a text from him. before you could stop yourself, a smile lit up your face.
matty:
just landed, when are you free?
the two of you met at a park not too far from your homes, deciding that you two needed privacy to talk and sitting in a coffee shop where matt’s face was well known wasn’t ideal. it felt like it used to, with the two of you walking side by side, matt walking a little slower to match your pace. your arms occasionally brushed.
“everything okay?” you asked when the silence started to make you anxious.
matt looked at you and smiled. “yeah,” he said. “just wanted to talk.”
“about what?”
“us. what happens next.” when you didn't say anything, he continued. “i wanted to apologize—”
“there’s nothing to apologize for, matt. i understand—”
“but i should’ve just communicated with you instead of letting my insecurity and the pressure get to me. i should’ve done better.”
you bumped your shoulder into his bicep. “you did what you thought was best, i can’t blame you for that.”
matt ran a hand down his face and sighed. “i wish you wouldn’t be so understanding,” he said. “i wish you'd just say that what i did sucked.”
“but i get it—”
“i get that you get it, but i need you to be honest with me.”
“okay,” you said. “i’ll be honest. i hated every single rose you've ever gotten me, but i was too afraid to say anything because you looked so happy to give them to me. and i know it’s what your dad would bring home to your mother after roadies. i hated that you never remembered my coffee order, you changed it every single time, but i accepted it and tried it because i saw how proud of yourself you were and how much it meant to you that you got me a drink. and i hated that you ended things over a phone call with no explanation. i hated that i spent seven months agonizing over what i did wrong.” you swallowed the emotion bubbling up. “but i understand why you did it, and in another life, i might have done the same.”
matt’s hand brushed yours. you thought he was going to leave it at that, a gentle touch, but he grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers “i wish you would've told me you hated roses.”
you smiled and shrugged, squeezing his hand in yours. “seeing how happy you were outweighed the hatred for roses. it was the thought that counted.”
“so what is your favorite flower?”
“red anemones.”
matt pulled out his phone and typed something into his notes app. “what’s your coffee order?” when you told him, he typed something else into the note. “i do care about that stuff,” he said. “i didn't mean to seem dismissive.”
“you remembered the important stuff like anniversaries and my birthday. you remembered that i hate driving in snow, you used to pick me up from school every time there was more than an inch on the ground.” you squeezed his hand again so he'd look at you. “you weren’t a shit boyfriend for forgetting the little things, matt. in fact, you were a really good boyfriend until you broke up with me.”
he didn’t say anything for a moment, choosing to bask in the summer sounds of the park. “do you think we could try again one day?”
it was a question you'd asked yourself multiple times since the conversation where you found out the truth behind the break up that nearly ruined you. could you two do it again? do it right this time? there was no way to know.
“i don’t know.”
a beat passed. “would you want to?”
would you? being with matt was all that you dreamed about but would you want to risk the heartbreak again? would you want to take the chance that it wouldn’t work out a second time?
yes. it was an easy yes.
heartbreak was inevitable, but you wouldn’t want your heart to be broken by anyone but matt.
but you could love him and also want to prioritize yourself and your wants and desires. you had a plan for your future that didn’t involve him for once. maybe he’d be there years later, but there was no guarantee. if you got into grad school, you wouldn’t be moving to florida. and while long distance had worked before, there was no assurance that things would again.
so you said “maybe one day,” and gave him a smile.
“one day,” he replied. “in the meantime, can we be friends?”
one more time, you squeezed his hand, tugging him a little closer, his arm bumping into your shoulder. “i’ll always be your friend at the very least, from here on out.”
after what looked like a moment of hesitation, matt pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.
after
when matt flew back to florida for the season, you fully expected him to stop talking to you. with distance being a factor, it was easy for you to assume he'd text whenever he wasn't tired or out partying.
but he texted you every waking and unoccupied minute of his day. in all honesty, you were worse at replying than he was. everything felt like high school again, in the days leading up to your first kiss.
you felt like you got your best friend back.
it started with him telling you about his day, asking about yours, and evolved into him telling you a joke he'd heard that day, a tiktok that reminded him of you, remembering your schedule. 
god your heart leapt every time he texted you. it was pathetic, but you loved it.
you loved him. 
it wasn’t a scary thought, you’d never stopped loving him even after the breakup. to act like you ever stopped was crazy.
and when you got into grad school? he was the first person you called.
it was nearly a year after he ended things, and there you were, calling him on the phone. you waited for him to pick up, for a moment, you were scared he wouldn’t answer. the phone kept ringing and your anxiety built up as the seconds went on. maybe he was busy or his phone was in the other room. or worst case scenario, he was ignoring your call, out with someone else. what if you annoyed him? what if—
“hey!” his cheery voice sounded over the phone. “everything okay? you usually don't call at...” he trailed off. “...3pm?”
you could’ve cried at the sound of his voice, the relief hitting you all at once. “i got in,” you replied.
“what—” he choked. “you got in? nyu’s program?”
you nodded before realizing he couldn't see you, stunned at the news and the fact that he immediately knew what you were talking about. “i did.”
he sighed over the phone. “god, baby, i’m so proud of you.” your heart swooped at the pet name, no longer angering you like it did months ago. “what did your parents say?”
“i haven’t told them yet,” you said. “i just found out.”
he paused. “and you called me.” he didn’t bother asking.
“and i called you. maybe that makes me a horrible daughter for not telling my literal parents but i just wanted to tell you first.”
he paused again. “why?”
your stomach twisted with nerves, your hands felt sweaty. “you know why.”
“i need to hear you say it. tell me there’s still hope.”
“matty—” you cut yourself off with a shaky inhale. “matt, we shouldn't.”
“why not? i love you, i’m sorry but i love you. i fucked up and lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me because i was scared.”
“matt, we shouldn’t be having this conversation over the phone...”
“then i’ll book a flight.”
you closed your eyes and smiled. this was a side of matt that you knew, someone who’d drop anything for someone he loved or the game he adored.
“you have games and practice,” you reminded him.
you could practically hear the scowl through the receiver. “we play the blues in a week. can we talk about this then? i’ll take you out to dinner.”
“you usually get dinner with your parents.”
matt scoffed through the phone. “i see them enough, i want to be with you.”
you smiled because you just couldn't help yourself. “we’ll talk about this in a week,” you agreed.
matt whooped over the phone, the glee evident in his tone. “i’m really proud of you,” he said, changing the subject back to the original point of the call. “grad school is a big deal. you worked so hard to get here.”
“thank you, matty.”
“i’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
the week leading up to the panthers vs. blues game was agonizing. you kept thinking of his confession over the phone:
i love you, i’m sorry. i love you, i’m sorry. i love you.
his words rattled around in your head like the cartoon birds that would fly over a concussed cartoon character.
five more days.
then four.
then three.
two.
tomorrow.
today.
matt bought you tickets to the game, one that you offered to simone, but she declined saying she “wouldn't want to be in the way.” when you told her she wouldn't, that you would like her company, she laughed.
“honey,” she said. “there is no one else in the room whenever you and matt are around each other.”
you’d flushed when she said that, but didn't deny it.
your mother and father were seated in the living room when you came bounding down the stands to head out to the game. “you going to see him?” she asked. there was a fond look in her eye, one that only brightened when you smiled and nodded. “have so much fun, honey.”
you looked to see if your dad would say something, but he just nodded and went back to reading his book. it was fine, you were past caring what other people thought of you. in a month, you'd be moving to new york for school and out this cycle of mediocrity and settling. you bid your parents goodbye and left.
there was no time to waste when you got to the arena. you immediately made your way to the seat matt paid for and waited. you were a bit outnumbered in your panthers jersey (again, courtesy of matt), but he was no stranger to the st. louis crowd.
you were sitting close enough to the glass to be spotted when matt came out for warm ups. he tossed a few pucks to the kids next to you, but his eyes never left yours. the smile on his face eased the anxiety about coming, the anxiety about the conversation you'd have afterwards.
seeing him beam at only you? the world could've stopped turning and you didn't think you'd even care.
the game, unfortunately, did not turn out in their favor. with a 4-1 loss, you were two seconds away from asking matt to reschedule. the conversation both of you needed to have shouldn’t be done when he was coming off a loss.
nevertheless, your phone vibrated with a text.
matty:
where’d you park?
you replied with the vague location of your vehicle and headed that direction. you weren’t sure how he beat you out there, but he was propped against your driver’s side door like it was a luxury car and not the used vehicle you’d had since you were sixteen.
he held his hand out, and to anyone who didn’t know any better, they might think he wanted to hold your hand. but you tossed him your keys and he caught them mid air. 
matt unlocked the car and threw his bag in your backseat while you got in the passenger seat.
“where are we going?”
“waffle house.”
suddenly, you were seventeen again, sitting shotgun in matt’s car at 2 am when neither of you could sleep. sometimes, you'd go to a 24 hour drive through and sit in the parking lot to eat. but your favorite moments were spent in a waffle house booth that had a half ass wipe down and food prepared by people who’d rather be anywhere else.
it was the best food you’d ever had every single time.
the bonus was that no one asked any questions, no one batted an eye at the son of keith tkachuk sitting in a waffle house at 2 am.
matt knew the drive by heart and minutes later, you were entering the establishment, trying not to slip on the greasy floors.
both of you slid into a booth and picked up the menus.
“didn’t think you could eat this stuff, with your diet and what not.”
matt shrugged. “it’s the holiday season, i’m allowed a few cheat days?”
you quirked a brow, remembering a time in calgary where you fixed dinners based on the diet given to you by the team nutritionist once she realized matt didn’t and couldn't cook. “i didn’t think that was allowed.”
“what they don't know won't kill ‘em.” he gestured to the menu. “what do you want?”
“you mean you don’t remember?” you teased.
matt rolled his eyes and gestured to the waiter. he recited both of your orders with an alarming amount of accuracy, given the fact the two of you hadn’t eaten at a waffle house in over a year.
“what?” he asked when he saw you looking after the server walked away.
“how do you remember that but not my coffee order?”
he blushed a little. “i feel like your coffee order changed with the seasons—”
“because they have seasonal drinks, matthew!” you exclaimed with a laugh.
“your waffle house order is simpler, easier for me to remember.”
you rolled your eyes with a smile on your face but accepted his answer. you sipped at your water and stared at him. “so what did you want to talk about?”
matt flinched back, like the sudden change in topic slapped him in the face. “what? you didn’t wanna wait until we got our food?”
you shrugged. “i’d feel less anxious if we just talked about it now.”
matt reached across the table and grabbed your hand in his own. it felt like being twenty-two again, living with matthew in calgary and holding hands under the table when you hung out with him teammates. his palm fit perfectly in your own.
“you don’t need to be anxious, i’m not gonna pressure you into anything.”
“i just wanna know what's’s going on in your head.”
matt’s thumb stroked the back of your hand. “you are all that’s in my head right now,” he confessed. “i get it, i fucked up by breaking up with you a year ago. and if i could go back, i would in a heartbeat. i would tell you everything i told you a week ago. that i love you and i’m sorry. i’m sorry that my insecurities got in the way, that i made a decision for you and in doing so, made you doubt my love for you.”
he continued. “but if you hear nothing else, hear me when i say i love you from the deepest part of my soul. if you asked me to give up the game and move with you to new york, if you asked me to request a trade to the fucking rangers, i’d do it in a heartbeat.”
“i would never ask you to do that,” you whispered.
“i know, but i would. because i love you, and if you’d let me, i’d like to be with you again. i’d like to marry you like i should’ve years ago. i’d like to have babies with you, however many you want. i wanna grow old and live in a house big enough to fit all of our grandkids for holidays. i want all of that with you,” he said. “what do you want?”
there were so many things you could say, so many things you wanted to say. but with watery eyes, and a heart that raced faster than a treadmill at full speed, you couldn’t vocalize any of it.
your mind raced with thoughts.
i wanna know the nicknames you gave your teammates. i want to use that specific combination of paints to make your eye color. i want to stick my cold feet between your legs and laugh when you pull away.  i want my birthday to be your passcode again.
“i want you” you said, unable to say anything more. it was a miracle you even got those words out, your voice cracked on every syllable.
“yeah?” he asked, eyes shining with hope.
you nodded. matt immediately leaned over the table and kissed you, you met him halfway. and it felt like every question you ever had was answered. it felt like the best possible ending of your favorite tv series.
he felt like home, more than st. louis ever could. more than calgary.
when you both pulled back, neither of you could keep the smiles off your faces. “what do you say to doing long distance again? just while i’m in school,” you proposed.
matt’s smile could’ve lit the entire city. 
“baby, for you? i’d do anything.”
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zombieplaygrounds · 5 months
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cw: hybrids, not proof read, fluff drabble(?)
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Years after Simon had retired from the special forces, he was left as a well aged man, softer muscles from a lesser workout regimen, strands of silver and black which dirtied his pretty blond hair. Didn't give much of a shite about his facial hair either, especially since he no longer had a reason for formalities, scratchy stubble all across his jaw and neck.
He was still brooding as ever; cold mornings being the worst. His muscles ached then, painfully so. It made him snappy, bitchy, down right depressed. Which was where you came along.
Simon never saw him as the type of man to have interest in cats; always thought they were assholes. Not very touchy, only really giving attention when they were hungry or wanted to play. He was certain he was a dog man, loved their loyalty, warmth, affection. It explains his disappointment upon getting a pretty little cat hybrid like you. Initially you were cold, hissing at him, never let him pet the soft fur of your tail, or fluffy ears atop your head.
You knew better than to scratch him though, knew where your meals came from. Regardless, you two thought it best to keep to yourselves. And it wasn't like you hated Simon, nothing like that. You were just scared of him, him and his aggressive movements, his impatient behavior. Everything he did was so rough, couldn't bring yourself to enjoy it.
But still, the mornings were the worst, you'd walk by his room (a place you weren't allowed), following the sun as it seeped through the windows. His pained groans and cries, curses that stumbled out and were muffled by the pillow. It made you feel...well, guilty. He wasn't a bad man, didn't throw you out even if you scratched up his couch a bit, or the time you chewed on his charging cable. Hell, even when he made fish, he'd ignore your desperate mewls at the moment, but later you'd find a plate left just for you.
You stared at the door a little longer, ears slowly drooping down. It was only fair you helped him too, right? Course, all those kind memories went out the door the moment you opened the door. Instantaneously, a pillow flew in your direction, hitting the wall right by you.
"Out! Now! Got damned cat!" It was a pathetic shout at best, masked the pain and frustration Simon truly felt. And sure, maybe your tail puffed up a bit, maybe you hissed a little at first. Ready to call him an asshole and leave immediately. But you reminded yourself why you were there.
Simon under the blankets, feeling guilty, half expecting you to have left after his reaction. His heart panging at the sound of the door shutting, and his breath slowing at the sensation of the bed dipping. A pleasant surprise.
Your warmth, rushing toward the cold aches in his legs, his back, his arms. Arms wrapping around as you curled in to spoon him. A rumbling purr massaging the space between his shoulder blades as you rubbed your face into him.
"See? I can help." What a soft whisper from his pretty little hybrid, did you always sound this way? So...sweet? Regardless, Simon let himself melt, let himself be coddled, even if it was just a bit.
"Mn. Yeah, Y'can.."
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oneforthemunny · 6 months
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home is wherever i'm with you |hockey player!eddie munson x reader|
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prompt: life on the road during hockey season is far less glamorous than you thought it would be. homesick and lonely, eddie tries to get you feeling better.
also special thank you to @angietherose for the name of the au hockey team :) eddie is officially on the indy reapers! thank you to all who voted as well!
contains: fluff, but there is slight angst at the beginning. mentions of loneliness, a little depression. slight-ish tension or strain on the relationship, but you know i make it happy at the end lol. language.
Pasadena, California - 1993 
Day seventeen on your six week excursion with Eddie. Well, excursion was a generous thing to call what this was. You were feeling more like a groupie for the Indianapolis Reapers, a puck bunny as Eddie’s teammates snickered, brows raised in suggest when they’d pass jersey clad girls lingering around their buses. Stop after stop- press, practice, training, games, all over the nation. 
A suitcase full of clothes you’d grown sick of already, longing to go home and trade them for something different, washing them in the sharp, sterile detergent of the hotels. You longed for your own sheets, perfumed with your own detergent. 
Eddie was gone for most of the day. You tried to sightsee on your own, explore the cities but it was lonely, lacking someone to giggle with over lattes, to hold your hand in the street, just to talk to. The other WAGS that came along, stuck out the long haul across the states, clung to each other, comfortable in their own little clique. You were too new, an outsider to their group. 
“Hey, babe,” Eddie pressed the key into the lock, twisting the heavy latch open. “Babe, do you have that stuff? Did you bring it?” He hummed, dropping his bag at the door, kicking off his sneakers. 
His nose curled at the pungent smell, ripe from the warming weather of California. “Jesus Christ, I gotta wash this stuff. I’m sorry, I’ll put it in the laundry thing.” Eddie hummed, sliding the slotted closet door open. “Can’t believe how warm it is here already. Feels so nice outside. You’ve been outside today, sweetheart?” He rambled, sweetly, tossing the powdered detergent into the washer, shoving the workout clothes from his bag into the tiny machine. 
The steady hum of the air conditioner filled the room, his only response. Eddie’s brows lifted, jamming the button of the washer, sliding the door back into place. He didn’t remember hearing you say you were leaving today, but he had taken a pretty hard hit to the glass during practice, ears still ringing dully. 
“Baby?” Eddie called, opening the bathroom door, empty of you other than the scattered products on the vanity. Heavy steps on the patterned carpet, Eddie walked into the bedroom suite, halting at the edge of the crumpled sheets. 
You laid on your side, still in what he’d left you in that morning, eyes puffy and red rimmed looking motionlessly out the window. “Hey, I thought you- I was, uh, I was just talking but-” Eddie’s heart beat in his throat, uneasy at the sight of you, crumpled in the sheets. “Are you ok?” 
You turned, cheek still pressed to your arms under the pillow, just enough to see him- all wild curls, matted and frizzy with helmet hair. “Yeah,” You croaked, throat scratchy and sore with sobs that had stilled hours ago, still you were plagued with the aftershocks of weeks of suppressed emotion. 
“I- I’m not trying to sound like a dick or anything here, but you’re clearly not.” Eddie said softly, slowly approaching the bed. The bed dipped under his weight, a warm hand rubbing over your ankle under the cool sheets. 
“Baby,” Your face crumpled at the coo, so sweet, gentle, it made your nose burn. “What’s goin’ on?” Eddie muttered, thumb circling your ankle bone gently. 
Your nose burned with a slow, shaky exhale that he felt, rattled all the way down your body under his touch. Eddie’s heart dropped. “Hey, look at me.” Eddie’s voice was softened but sharp, teetering on frantic. You turned, looking at his wide eyes, running over your frame in worry. “What’s goin’ on? What’s the matter?” 
Your lip wobbled, head screaming words you couldn’t bring yourself to say- you didn’t know how to say. “I just-” You took a breath, chest stuttering. “I don’t… feel good.” 
Eddie’s brows creased, crawling up the bed beside you. “Don’t feel good, like, sick?” He muttered, the back of his hand pressing to your palm. “You don’t feel hot t’me. What hurts? Is it your head still? I told you, baby, that hippie dippie shit only works so much. You have to take medicine-” 
“-No,” You shook your head, eyes squeezing tightly to keep your tears at bay. “It’s-it’s not that.” 
Eddie blinked carefully. “What? Is it, like, the time of the month? D’ya need me to go get some stuff for you? You know I don’t mind to. Not a problem for me, baby, just tell me what you need.” Eddie’s head tilted to the side, so sweet and doting, it made your chest heat with swarming guilt and adoration. 
“I’m not on my period. It’s nothing, Ed.” You shook your head, curling back into your pillow. 
Eddie stilled above you. “Are- Are you pregnant?” He whispered. 
“No.” You groaned quickly, head shaking into the warmth of the pillows. 
Eddie sighed lightly, a huff of relief that fell short, when your body turned from him, back towards the window with a long inhale. “Hey, can you- can you look at me? Please? Look at me, baby.” Eddie’s pitch raised, teetering towards scared, his hand on your shoulder, pushing you gently so you rolled on your back. 
He hovered over you, curls falling down nearly brushing your cheeks. “Tell me what’s going on. Please? Tell me what’s wrong.” Eddie whispered, nearly a beg. “You don’t feel good? You don’t feel good here?” His throat swelled, tight with fear. “With me?” 
Your silence had Eddie’s stomach twisting, dropping with fear, bile rising in the back of his throat- he was going to be sick, he was sure he would be. 
“No,” You muttered, head shaking lightly under the pillow. “Not with you, just,” You reached up, nervously twirling his curl around your finger. “Just with this.” 
Eddie swallowed, willing himself still, calm, though his heart felt like it might give out. “This? Wh-What do you mean this?” Eddie’s voice shook. 
You blinked up at him, eyes rounding in a sad softness he hadn’t seen before. “I just… I miss being home.” You whispered, eyes glossing with a fresh wave of tears that pricked your waterline. “I miss seeing my friends, and being in my own bed, a-and even work. I just,” Your breath hitched, lip trembling. “I’m just really lonely.” 
Eddie was sure his heart did give out, break right in his chest, sunk right to the pit of his stomach. “Do you- You wanna go home?” Eddie’s hand ran down your cheek gently. “That’s what you want? That would make you feel better?” 
Your face crumbled, caved into itself at his tone. “I-I don’t know.” You admitted, eyes squeezed shut to keep the tears in. “I don’t want to leave you, b-but I don’t-” You pressed your palms to your eyes, taking a slow inhale through your nose. “I just don’t want to be alone so much. A-And I know that’s not your fault. I know you’re working.” 
When your eyes did meet his, Eddie wished they’d stayed closed, heartbreakingly sad, vacant of that light that usually shone through, brightening anything cast in your gaze. “I just… I’m feeling homesick, ‘m sorry.” You muttered. “I just really miss home, and I’m having a bad day.” 
“You don’t- Don’t apologize.” Eddie shook his head. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were feelin’ like this.” Eddie swallowed, pulling you up gently. Your body was slack, limp with unmotivated movement, but still, you settled into his arms. The tension in your body melted, nose buried in the material of his shirt, lathered in cologne and the hot California air. 
“I have a half day tomorrow.” Eddie muttered, his heart beating fast, you could hear it, feel it. His hand smoothed up your back. “We’ll do something. Go exploring and stuff. Do some fun stuff.” 
“You’re ‘sposed to rest.” You muttered, cheek squished to his chest. “It’s before your game, you’re supposed to be resting.” 
“Yeah, but that is resting.” Eddie shook his head gently. “I’ll be alright. Promise. Played after way worse. Me and Josh used to come in hungover, vomited on the ice one time.” Eddie’s chest rumbled with soft laughter. “Pretty sure we’re the reason that rule’s in place now.” 
Your lips curled, even through your sullen, dazed mood, you couldn’t help it. Clinging to him tighter, you moved into his touch. “Coach just means take it easy like, don’t go get fucked up and actually sleep the night before.” Eddie muttered, chin tucking down onto your head. “C’mon, lemme take you out tomorrow. Me and you. Go anywhere you want.” 
You didn’t reply. Instead, sighed gently, settling into his hold. 
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Eddie was restless through all of morning practice, hands buzzing, ready to run to the rental car at the first dismissal. Shower be damned, he’d take a quick one at the hotel, he couldn’t be held up any longer. 
“What’s goin’ on with you, Munson?” Elijah muttered, next to Eddie in the huddle on the ice, the coach’s droning about protocol for the game. 
“Nothin’.” Eddie whispered back, twisting his stick in his hands. “Just wish he’d fuckin’ hurry up.” 
Elijah’s eyes cut to Eddie, snorting lightly. “You got somewhere to be?” 
“Yeah, I do actually.” Eddie sighed out. “Gotta get back. Promised my girl I’d take her out.” 
Elijah’s brows raised. “Shit, you brought her with you?” 
Eddie’s shoulders tensed. “She wanted to come.” He muttered defensively. “I mean, she wanted to. Now it’s kinda fucked, she’s-” Eddie’s eyes cut around him. “She’s kinda homesick.” 
Elijah nodded slowly. “Yeah, that happens.” He fought back a smile. “When’s the last time you took her out?” 
Eddie’s eyes cut to him, defensive with accusation. “It’s not like that. I take her out.” 
“Yeah? On the off day? After we’ve traveled all day?” Elijah snorted, shaking his head. “C’mon, Munson. Believe me, that doesn’t count.” 
Eddie ignored him, gripping his stick with furious annoyance. The fuck did he know? He didn’t know anything. 
“Look, I’m not tryna piss you off. I did it, too. Just- believe me, alright? That one day shit doesn’t work.” Elijah pressed gently. 
“Hey, I got it, alright? I’m good.” Eddie growled. 
Elijah held his hands up in defense. “Alright, I’m just saying, when it was me,” He started. “I wasn’t meaning to. I just wasn't used to it. Had my own road routine and tried to fit her around it instead of into it. Thought it was going good until it wasn’t.” 
Eddie stilled, silent but shoulders slumping lightly. “You gotta change your routine, find a way to fit her into it. She’s on the road too, not just you.” Elijah continued. 
The coach whistled, waving them in dismissal. Eddie blinked, pulled out of his daze, lifting his helmet and stick with him. Elijah nodded at him. “Have fun tonight, Munson.” He smiled softly. “Make sure you take her somewhere nice.” 
Elijah’s words rang in Eddie’s head all the way back to the hotel, only a short drive from the arena. Eddie nearly threw his keys at the valet, sliding into the elevator shamelessly, bouncing on the balls of his toes until he reached your floor. 
You startled when he came in, sitting at the vanity, doing your makeup. “You’re done already?” 
“Yeah,” Eddie muttered, ducking down for a kiss. “Just gotta shower real quick, but are you hungry?” He shimmied his workout sweats onto the floor, kicking his socks off with them. 
Your eyes lingered over his bare lower half for a second, turning back to paint your mascara on. “I’m not starving.” You mumbled. 
“Alright, good, I was gonna see if we could go to this place. I think you’ll like it.” Eddie grinned over his shoulder at you, the hiss of the shower coming to life. “Some guys told me if you’re in Pasadena you gotta go here.” His smile so wide, eyes sparkling in the dim yellowed light of the hotel bathroom, it made your tummy tingle with warm excitement. 
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“Promise you’re not looking?” Eddie mumbled, hands over your eyes, waddle-walking awkwardly behind you, pressed close to your back. 
“Swear I’m not.” You grinned. Eddie was right, it was beautiful outside. Warm and bright, light illuminating his hands that covered your eyes with a reddish glow. 
“I can feel you trying to. Your lashes are tickling me.” Eddie muttered, leaving you giggling. “Ok, just- you know what, this is good enough. I’m scared you’re gonna trip.” Eddie said, lips curling at your soft laugh. 
“Are you ready for your surprise?” You could hear Eddie’s grin in his voice, a breeze floating between the two of you. 
“Yes.” You giggled, Eddie’s chest swelling at the sound. “Just show me. Your hands are clammy. They’re gonna smear my mascara.” 
“Shit, sorry.” Eddie muttered sheepishly, a blush spilling on his cheeks, pulling his hands away so they were still in front of you. “Ok, ready?” 
“Eddie-” 
“-Sorry, Alright, one, two,” Eddie moved his hands, smiling proudly in front of you, a pinkish looking building behind you. “Here it is! Surprise!”
You blinked. “Oh.” You quipped softly. 
Eddie blinked, smile falling. “What? I thought you’d- You don’t like it?” 
“No,” You shook your head. “I mean, no, that’s- Where are we?” 
“Oh,” Eddie shook his head lightly. “Shit, I thought you’d know. Uh, apparently this place is supposed to be like the place for flowers, y’know? Pasadena has that flower festival thing, but it’s not until later and I know you like to go to the cool places, and-” Eddie motioned to the store behind him. 
You took in the building, spilling over with plants you could see from the inside. “I, uh, I know you miss home.” Eddie said softly. “And I was just thinking, y’know, we can’t get houseplants like at home, but maybe some bouquets? Some flowers for the hotel room.” 
Eddie waited a beat, desperately trying to read your face, eyes wandering over the building and the signs. “I thought maybe you’d pick out some flowers and-and it would make it feel like home.” Eddie’s hands slid down his jeans, hot from the sun beaming on them. “Plus, you wanted to see some around here, a-and y’know… one bird, two stones.” Eddie rambled, shrugging sheepishly. 
You felt the familiarity of a cry bubbling back in your chest, swelling and suffocation, only this time the aching of sadness was gone. In its place, a bubbling, burning feeling of adoration was left, consuming you from the inside out with every nervous glance Eddie gave you. He’d listened, really fucking listened. He always did, but this time it was different. Relief, comfort washing over you for the first time in days. 
It felt like home. 
Like the two of you were back in Hawkins, or Indianapolis even, perusing the usual spots, happy and content to be together in a familiar place. 
Eddie wasn’t expecting you to grab him, pull him into you with a fierce, sloppy kiss. Right there on the sidewalk, under the California sunshine. Lips melting into his, clawing and grabbing at his shirt, the back of his neck. Eddie’s cheeks burned bright when you pulled apart, a smile so wide and goofy it made you giggle. 
He let you grab his hand, lead him around the flower shop like a lost puppy, picking out anything and everything that made you smile. A bright bouquet spilling out beautifully in the green vase, made just for you. 
You sat it right on the small bedside table, beaming at how it livened up the room. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was the flowers or you. Either way, it revived you, made you happier and giddier. Made the sheets of the hotel less cold when you slipped beneath them, legs tangled in his, pinning him under you onto the stiff mattress. It made the room brighter, spilling with a new fragrance that felt familiar. 
It was small, a miniscule way that meant the world to you; made you feel at home. Eddie knew it, planning how he’d do it with every next city, until you finally got back home.
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