you're taking me out of the ordinary | lea schüller
warnings: ~
word count: 1353
summary: the day after lea drunkenly confesses her feelings for you
a/n: only took me 490 days but here is the part two to my tears ricochet. thank you to those people who've been ever so patiently waiting for this, i love you.
the morning light filters weakly through your curtains. the soft glow of it casts across your bedroom, illuminating the sleeping woman beside you. lea looks so peaceful now, her expression a sharp contrast to what it was last night.
reaching out, you let your fingers gently brush over her hair. you’ve never really been this close to her before, never really noticed how she has lighter streaks in her blonde hair that the sun catches on.
she’s curled tightly into you and for a long moment, you’re content to just be.
but then lea’s lips part and the softest of sighs slips out. you freeze, wondering if she’s about to wake.
your question is soon answered when she stirs a second later. her brows furrow and then her eyes flutter open.
you’re greeted by a familiar blue. one that quickly clouds with confusion.
it’s very telling the exact moment lea remembers the events that led to her current circumstance because the adorable sleepiness that she’d woken up with vanishes entirely.
‘oh god.’ she chokes out.
she sits up abruptly, wincing at the sudden movement. her head spins and she fights the urge to throw up.
‘lea-’ you start, sitting upright too but she goes on like she hasn’t even heard you, dragging a hand through her tousled hair.
‘no i shouldn’t have come. i-i never should have said anything. i’m sorry. i’m sorry.’
the striker barely manages to get out the last word and she bites down on her wobbling bottom lip, to stop a sob from spilling forth.
her eyes frantically dart to the door and back down to her lap. she’s absolutely refusing to make eye contact with you.
‘i’m so so sorry.’ she whispers, with the same heartbreaking note.
your chest feels tight with how much you hate seeing her this way. so small and vulnerable, so unlike her usual self.
exhaling, you reach out to grab hold of her trembling hands.
lea stills immediately and then in the tiniest voice you have ever heard, says, ‘please don’t hate me for ruining everything.’
now it’s your turn to want to cry.
‘lea don’t you remember what i said?’
the bayern munich player nods slightly, ‘yeah but i know you only said it because i was being difficult. i was drunk and you had to pacify me somehow.’
her words cut deep. did she really think that?
‘schülli…’
‘no. no. i said things last night. things i didn’t mean to-‘
‘lea.’ you cut in softly.
the blonde in question isn’t listening though, having been far too focused on working herself up again.
sharply pulling away from you, she shakes her head, ‘i was a fucking mess. i came here drunk and just dumped all that on you like a selfish idiot.’
running a hand through her hair again, the german woman groans, ‘god i’m such an idiot.’
you can practically see the way she’s putting her walls up. brick by brick, she’s trying to do so before you can reach across the distance she’s retreating to.
physically she’s right there but emotionally she’s withdrawing into herself. further than you can reach her.
though you’re not going to let that happen.
‘look at me schülli. please just look at me.’ you entreat.
the blonde is shaking and it takes her a long moment but eventually she does but you don’t miss the way her hands clench into fists. like she’s bracing for impact.
despite your instinct to comfort her, to reach out and bridge the gap, you keep your own hands where they are because you don’t want to risk overwhelming her.
not when she’s already looking like she is one wrong sentence away from a panic attack.
in a voice that’s steady and sure, you say, ‘i meant what i said last night. i wasn’t just saying what i thought you wanted to hear. or what would calm you down. i said what’s true.
something flickers in lea’s eyes. hope maybe? it’s gone before you can place it, drowned out by doubt just as quickly as it’d appeared.
the forward is quiet when she murmurs, ‘you don’t have to do this. you don’t have to make me feel better about making a fool of myself. you’re not obliged to pretend.’
you frown, ‘lea i love you.’
she flinches like you’ve burned her.
‘you couldn’t have meant it. not really.’
‘lea-’ you beg, stomach twisting at the pain written on her face.
the blonde pulls away properly now, scrambling to push herself off your bed.
‘stop. just stop. you said what you had to say to keep me from completely falling apart and i get it okay? i was a mess and y-you were being kind. it’s why i-’ lea breaks off, her breaths coming fast and uneven.
she’s on the edge of your bed now and she murmurs, ‘you take care of people. that’s what you do.’
‘schülli stop.’
but lea doesn’t. instead she laughs. a broken hollow sound.
‘it’s okay really, you can stop pretending now. i’ll get over it and we can act like this never happened.’
frustration bubbles up in your chest and you snap, ‘no!’
it’s more forceful and harsh than you intended it to be but has the desired effect on lea who stares at you, caught off guard by your tone.
‘i’m not acting like this never happened. i won’t go back to acting like i don’t love you because i’ve had enough of that.’
you mean it. that’s clear and it is beginning to dawn on the blonde.
very slowly, you reach out, giving lea every chance to pull away should she choose to. but she doesn’t and instead, remains still as you brush your fingertips over her cheek and then cup her face.
the striker’s breath hitches as the tenderness in your gesture and encouraged by that, you use your other hand to tuck loose strands of her hair behind her ear.
with a soft exhale, you murmur, ‘schülli i’ve been in love with you for so long. i only went on dates because i didn’t know you felt the same.’
lea’s lips part slightly like she wants to say something but nothing comes out.
‘i wasn’t trying to hurt you….i just…i thought i was protecting myself by trying to move on.’ you continue.
running your thumb over her cheek again, you drop your hands down into your lap and shakily breathe, ‘i never let myself believe i could have this. have you.’
lea swallows hard and her hands lift up and hover over your wrists fractionally. like she wants to hold on but is afraid to.
you let her decide.
one breath in. one breath out. another breath in. another breath out.
on your third breath, lea makes a decision.
finally, finally her hands settle on your wrists. gingerly and tentatively at first before her fingers curl around your wrists as she tightens her grip.
she can feel your pulse hammering under her very fingertips and she knows now that this is real.
‘you meant it.’ lea whispers.
‘i meant it.’ you nod, echoing the sentiment back.
lea closes her eyes for a moment. as if she’s letting the words sink into her entire being. when she opens them again, they're still that same particular share of blue you’ve always loved. still shining with tears. still a little fragile.
but alight with something intimately soft that you’ve never seen before.
lea offers you a tiny smile and this time, lets you in.
‘no more dates schülli.’
‘no more dates.’
‘just you. only ever you from now on.’ you promise again.
your lea holds onto you and huffs out an emotional laugh. at long last, she relaxes.
then she pulls you close, right till you’re held up completely against her and your breaths mingle in the small space in between.
‘okay.’
just that one faint word before she does what she thinks she’s been waiting her whole adult life to do.
she kisses you.
and it more than lives up to every hope and dream that either of you have ever had.
hi i’d just like to ask what kote means if you don’t mind. i’ve seen fics that refer to cody as kote and the mandoa dictionary doesn’t offer up any translation other than glory?
hey! i’m not sure about canon but the fandom seems to have collectively agreed on cody naming himself or being named after the word and then anglicizing (or the basic equivalent) it to cody
hi! i love your blog, especially the part about counting the days it’s been since ezra went missing. we can keep our hopes up together 😂
don’t ever forget that you’re special and amazing. hope you have a nice day :)
i realized it was almost THREE YEARS since we’ve last had a word of Ezra and here we are. All I’m doing is counting, but this was so sweet and I really appreciate it!! <3
Here’s To Hoping You’re Worth All My Time (I Hope You’re Worth My Time) | Lea Schüller
warnings: some swear words, description of migraines in detail
word count: 4451
summary: five months after you and lea break up, you’re convinced you’ll never cross paths with her again. life has a funny way of bringing people back together though.
a/n: realised that if i want to read schülli fics, i have to write them so here we are 😊
The headache started somewhere in the middle of your third class.
Rather gingerly, you rub your temples and try to ignore the pulsing pain. Despite your best efforts, the pain continues to grow till it’s clear that you are going to have one of your full blown migraines.
You get migraines every so often but with have gotten better at managing them over the years. The combination of cutting out caffeine, medication and getting enough sleep have worked so that the truly bad ones, the kind that keeps you incapacitated for hours have become few and far between.
One hasn’t happened for a while and you suppose, with a wince that you were inevitably due for one.
Now that it’s happening though, it is all you can do to text your classmate and tell her you won’t be able to make the rest of your classes.
The bright glare of your phone screen makes your head ache more fiercely. With squinted eyes and more than some difficulty that you read her reply in which she hopes you feel better soon and that she will convey your apologies to the professors.
That being done, you try and fail to focus back on your current class. By the end of it, you are desperate to go home and just lie down with all the lights off.
Normally you would take the bus but today even the thought of it is too much. A ride sharing service would be the quickest way back to your apartment.
The ride itself passes in a blur, nausea has begun to affect you and you spend the twenty minutes back to your apartment concentrating on trying not to throw up.
When the driver drops you off at your apartment, you stutter out a quick thank you before you run up the stairs, taking it two at a time to get to your bathroom.
Just in time too because you gag uncontrollably, whatever is left of your breakfast coming up unpleasantly.
You stay beside the toilet, coughing until your stomach somewhat uneasily settles.
With watering eyes, you stand up shakily to rinse your mouth and then reach for the bottle of Eletriptan that usually sits on the shelf above your sink.
Except that your hand closes around nothing. Your migraine medication isn’t there.
You stare at the empty space uncomprehendingly until it hits you.
It’s at the place where you babysit. Sometimes the parents would pay you extra to stay overnight with their kids when they had late night work functions. Last week you’d stayed over and brought your medication over as a precaution.
The family is nice and you know they would have no problem bringing over your Eletriptan if you asked. The problem is that they are currently on vacation in France.
You can actually picture where you left your bottle of medication. On the counter of their guest bedroom.
Blinking back tears of frustration and pain, you bite your lip. You hadn’t gone through a migraine without medication in years. Especially not one as severe as this.
‘Fuck.’ You say out loud.
‘Fuck.’ You repeat and then do the only thing you can do.
Going into the kitchen, you get a glass of water and take it into your bedroom.
Thankfully, the blinds are already closed so you don’t have to deal with the bright sunlight making your head hurt more than it currently is.
You manage two sips of water and then toe off your shoes, collapsing into bed.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you exhale and inhale, slowly counting to a hundred and then eventually to five hundred.
Everything is okay, you attempt to convince yourself as you start counting from one again.
You ignore the fact that even with your pills, your migraine usually takes an hour to subside. There’s no telling how long it will go on without the medicine.
Another deep breath in and out. Over and over again.
Somewhere in between, you briefly entertain the notion of going to a pharmacy and getting some over the counter migraine medicine instead. But none of that stuff has ever worked for you and even if you are distressed enough to try, you know you are in no condition to leave the house.
At the very least, the fierce ache in your head has not gotten worse. It isn’t better either though. It still feels like someone is stabbing you right between your eyes and god it hurts.
It’s nothing short of excruciating but there is nothing you can do except to keep your eyes closed, remind yourself to keep breathing through the pain and hope for the best.
Then you remember.
You have another bottle of Eletriptan. The one you left at Lea’s place.
Against your will, salty tears slip down your cheeks. Fucking hell.
It’s not as if you can get to it. You’re not able to go over and beg. Even if you are willing to go to that length, your pride would never allow it.
Lea had told you to get out. So you did. The end.
Besides, your ex is probably away for international break or an away game of sorts. The chances are high that she isn’t even in Munich right now.
That’s what you tell yourself as another agonising hour crawls by.
It’s been three hours since you first got back and you don’t know if you can take much more. A particularly harsh throb hits and that makes your decision for you.
With a weak sob, you cave and reach for your phone.
The brightness level is on the lowest setting but the sudden glare still has you scrunching your face in discomfort.
Finding Lea’s contact is as much as you hate it, easy. For some unknown reason, you hadn’t yet been able to bring yourself to delete it.
Tapping on it before you can second guess yourself, you put the call on speaker.
It rings and rings. To the point where you think she won’t answer.
Right when you are ready to admit defeat, a voice comes through, ‘Hello?’
‘Lea?’ You whisper.
‘No sorry, this is Obi. Lea’s not here right now. Can I take a message?’
You hesitate. You remember Obi, Lea’s brunette best friend. She’d been nice to you back when you were dating but telling her that you are practically pleading with Lea for your much needed medicine seems far too personal.
A few seconds of awkward silence pass and then there’s some muffled noise on the other end.
‘Hi it’s Lea. Sorry I took a bit.’
You don’t actually need her to introduce herself. The sound of her voice is etched in your memory, as clear as day.
Pausing again, you wonder if you should really do this. Lea could be stubborn and closed off sometimes but she had never been mean. As bad as things had ended between you both, there is surely no way that the striker’s changed so much that she would be cruel enough to withhold your medication.
That is, if she hadn’t simply thrown it away.
You’re taking too long to decide because the blonde tries again, ‘Hello? Is anyone there?’
‘It’s me.’ You softly answer.
‘Oh.’
She didn’t sound angry. Or annoyed. You’d take that.
‘I-I’m not interrupting anything am I?’
Your ex exhales quietly, ‘We’re kinda in the middle of a gym session.’
‘Sorry I wouldn’t be calling but I-I really need your help. It’s sort of an emergency.’
You wait for her to reply but nothing comes through.
Then rather steadily she asks, ‘What’s the emergency?’
Swallowing the last of your pride you say, ‘Um…Could you please run back to your place and get something for me?’
‘You want me to leave training the day before a big game to go back to my apartment and get something for you?’ Lea slowly states.
Wincing, you forget she can’t see you and nod. It sounds far worse when she puts it like that. Resignedly, you accept your fate of burying yourself back under your blankets and trying your hardest to sleep this migraine off.
‘You’re right. It’s stupid. I’m sorry for calling, I shouldn’t have asked. I’ll just-’
Lea cuts you off, ‘What is it?’
‘What?’
‘What do you need me to get?
You blink in surprise, ‘My Eletriptan. The migraine medication I take. I left a bottle of it at yours and um, never got it back. I don’t have another one presently and I need it.’
The forward lets out a breath and it is enough to have you wondering what the hell you are doing. Asking your ex that you had a far from amicable break up with, for a favour?
Quickly backtracking once more, you rush out, ‘It’s alright. You don’t have to. I’ll figure something out.’
‘No. It’s okay. You need it. I’m assuming you’re at home?’
‘Yeah.’ You breathe, hardly daring to believe your ears.
‘I’ll be there in half an hour. Lie down and close your eyes in the meantime.’
‘Okay.’ You manage.
It’s all you can get out.
Like Lea had requested, you stay laying down and let your eyes slip close.
They fly open again at the realisation that the blue eyed woman is actually coming over. Your apartment is in dire need of a good tidy up, the stress of the past few weeks, no doubt a factor into today’s pounding headache have left you behind in your cleaning.
Lea will definitely see the state of your place, a sharp contrast to her own which had always been neatly organised in the past. You think about getting up and trying to get rid of some of the mess but even the mere act of sitting up makes your head spin.
So you lie back down and keep your attention on breathing through the pain. The Bayern Munich player is just dropping off your bottle of pills. It’s not like she is going to stick around so why should you care?
Except that you do. You have always cared when it comes to Lea Schüller. Such is your weakness for her.
But any sort of movement has your body protesting so you have no choice but to stay very still, not moving from your spot as you drift in your own head. One deep breath in…and one deep breath out.
Till a soft, ‘Hey.’
You automatically try to sit up, a sharp whimper tumbling from your lips as the resulting pain shoots through your head.
Lea’s hand grabs onto your elbow, steadying you and she murmurs, ‘Take it easy. Just stay where you are alright?’
Forcing your eyes open, you take her in as best you can.
The same brilliant blue eyes, lean athlete’s build and shoulder length blonde hair. Still absolutely gorgeous.
You blink up at her and she asks, ‘How long have you been like this?’
It’s hard to think but you make an effort to do so.
‘Since two this afternoon?’
Lea’s eyes widen and she curses under her breath in her native language.
‘You’ve been like this for practically four hours?’
You make a poor attempt at shrugging, ‘Did you...?’
The striker snaps back into focus, ‘Course.’
She reaches into her jacket pocket and there in her hand, is a very precious bottle of prescription medication.
‘Two right?’ She asks even though she is already shaking the correct dosage out onto her palm.
You simply nod, struck speechless by the fact that she remembers.
The blonde makes sure you are sitting up and then carefully holds out your pills, along with the half drunk glass of water from your nightstand.
Staying upright just long enough to accept the medicine and swallow it with a mouthful of water, you soon lay back down amongst your pillows.
‘Thank you Lea.’ You hoarsely whisper.
‘You’re welcome.’ She says, with an expression you can’t quite place.
The pain in your head pulses but you know that is not the reason why you can’t read her because if you are being honest, she’s always been somewhat of a mystery to you.
Breathing in once, twice and then thrice, you realise that contrary to your earlier expectations, the German woman is not turning to leave right away.
‘I’m really sorry to have bothered you. I hope your game goes well tomorrow.’ You offer eventually.
Lea just keeps looking at you with that same indiscernible gaze.
After a long minute, she replies, ‘Thanks and it’s fine. We were doing my least favourite core workouts anyway.’
The striker glances down at her phone, obviously taking note of the time before she adds, ‘I should be getting back though. Obi can only cover for me for so long.’
‘Right. Sorry again to have pulled you away.’
Still, your ex doesn’t make any move to leave.
Instead, she twists the ring on her index finger around a few times and then says, ‘I’ll come back after the session to check on you. It shouldn’t take more than two hours.’
Your mouth drops open in shock.
‘You don’t need…It’s okay. Once the meds kick in, I’ll be alright. You know that.’
After all, this is not your first migraine that Lea’s experienced. When you were still together, she would put your head in her lap and run her fingers through your hair. It was soothing and calming and the tiny featherlight kisses she used to press to your forehead never failed to make you feel better.
But that was the past and well…you can hardly ask her to do that now.
‘No I do know. It’s just that…you look like shit.’
Lea’s words are blunt and she folds her arms across her chest, blue eyes seeming rather challenging as she continues, ‘You’re going to need actual food coming off this migraine and I’d bet you don’t have anything of the sort lying around here.’
You frown, thinking of the instant noodles that make up your pantry.
It’s the only answer your former girlfriend needs because she repeats more or less of what she’d verbalised earlier, in a tone that leaves no room for argument.
‘I’ll be back in less than two hours. In the meantime, try to sleep.’
Then she’s gone. Disappearing just as suddenly as she’d appeared.
Too exhausted to try and figure her and what the fuck has just happened out, you bury your head under a pillow to block it all out.
You know the drill now. To get through a bad migraine, you need to stay very very still. Any movement would do you no good.
Count to a hundred, breathing in and out all the while. Reach five hundred, reset your counting and keep taking in deep breaths.
It takes another hour but slowly, the Eletriptan begins to work. Little by little, the headache recedes till you’re able to slip into a fitful sleep at last.
******
When you wake, your room is much darker than it was earlier. Not even the tiniest hint of sunlight peeks through your blinds.
After a few minutes, you decide that the pounding in your head has subsided enough movement to become feasible once more.
Sitting up warily, you catch sight of the time displayed on your alarm clock.
Abruptly, you remember that Lea has said she was coming back.
Wide awake now, you stop only to throw on a hoodie before opening your bedroom door. Someone is definitely here, you can see that your kitchen light is on.
Before you even get halfway down the hall, you smell something amazing…and familiar.
At the doorway to your kitchen, you pause just to look at Lea for a long moment.
For a fraction of a second, you wonder if your migraine had been so bad that you are coming up with new symptoms like hallucinations.
Then you dismiss the thought because food has never smelt so good. Not even in your wildest dreams.
She’s standing with her back to you, stirring a pot of what must be stew, made from her mother’s recipe.
She used to make that for you when you’d had a long day. The ensuing rush of nostalgia has you bracing a hand against the wooden frame of the door.
Your former girlfriend hasn’t physically changed much in the five months you have been apart, bar the new tattoo on her arm. Dressed in Bayern’s signature red training outfit and with her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun, she’s still all lean muscle, as tall and terribly attractive as she’s always been.
Now that your migraine has dulled, you are better able to appreciate exactly how stunning she is.
You watch her biceps flex as she begins to cut up some greens.
It was those well built arms that you had first fallen in love with. Not because of how fine a figure it gave her but because of how safe you had felt when she’d held you in them.
That’s all irrelevant now, swept to the side due to a more pressing issue. The one that is Lea Schüller standing in your kitchen.
Opening and closing your mouth, you manage to stutter out, ‘W-What are you doing?’
To her credit, the blonde doesn’t flinch.
Her voice is soft but sure when she answers without turning around, ‘Making dinner.’
‘I can see that…but why?’
‘Because you always feel like crap when you don’t have proper food coming off one of your migraines. The one you were having looked especially bad too.’
Two thoughts occur simultaneously. One, is Lea taking care of you? Two, what does this mean?
Detaching yourself from the kitchen doorway, you try to play off the way your heart rate is speeding up. Your head is spinning again, this time because of confusion instead of the headache.
‘You could have just dropped off takeout.’
Now, Lea deigns to look at you, stopping her cooking. Her eyes stay on you as she searches for something you don’t know.
She’s seemingly satisfied after a moment.
‘But I didn't, so here I am.’ She says evenly.
You don’t know how to answer that so you close the remaining distance to your little breakfast counter and take a seat there.
The German woman resumes her cooking and you find yourself questioning her ability to look so composed. How is she looking so at ease here, cooking stew in your kitchen, looking for all the world like the past five months hadn’t happened? Like you two had never broken up?
Neither of you speak again till dinner is ready.
You fetch bowls and spoons from your cupboard, Lea serves both portions.
Setting your bowl in front of you, the Bayern player sits down across from you for the first time in- well, five months.
Then she looks up, blue eyes that are as clear as crystals, meeting yours.
‘Lea…what are you really doing here?’ You barely audibly murmur.
The striker sighs, pushing her bowl away from her and leaning back into her seat.
‘The truth?’
After a long drawn out silence in which she runs her thumb along the handle of her spoon, a restless gesture of hers and you resist the urge to reach across the tabletop to soothe it, Lea admits, ‘I missed you.’
You let her words sink in, trying to work out how you feel about them. Lea had missed you. That means something doesn’t it? Do you want that to mean something?
The answer to that, is so obvious that you can’t lie to yourself. Of course you want it to mean something. You’ve missed Lea like crazy. Every single day since the split.
Your former girlfriend sets her spoon down, gaze downcast as she mumbles, ‘I should leave.’
‘No!’ You start to shake your head, then gasp at the pain that flares up when you do.
Massaging the sides of your temple, you say, ‘Please don’t go. Lea, I-I missed you too.’
A quiet puff of air leaves the blonde, ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d…moved on.’
‘From you?’ Your laugh comes out a touch bitter.
‘I didn’t. I couldn’t.’
Then a thought strikes you and you glance at the German woman furtively, ‘Did you move on?’
Lea blinks as if she had not expected you to ask.
‘I’m here aren’t I?’
Part of you wants to say, ‘Well…for five, nearly six months, you weren’t.’
The Bayern Munich player must sense it because she softens, ‘No. There hasn’t been anyone since. You’re…you. I don’t think there is any getting over you.’
You didn’t know how much you’d been afraid of a different answer till Lea said that. Actually, afraid doesn’t quite cover it, terrified would be a better description.
Relief courses through you so powerfully that you feel lightheaded with the intensity of it.
With how heavy the air is now, you force yourself to pick up your spoon and start on the stew. The last thing you need is to do something stupid like tell Lea you’re still head over heels in love with her.
The blonde takes the cue that you’re done talking for now and the only sound in the room is the clinking of spoons against the bowls.
As expected, the stew is delicious. It had always been your favourite even though Lea never made a meal that you didn’t like.
Like she knows you are thinking about her, the German woman glances up from her bowl, catching your eye and then smiling.
It’s a soft, gentle smile. Reminiscent of old times. Lea making you both dinner, Lea taking care of you after one of your migraines, Lea just being…there. Just constantly there, by your side and looking at you like she never wants to be anywhere else.
You wonder if this is going somewhere. Is this an olive branch or just closure?
Before you know it, your spoon is scraping the bottom of your bowl. The warmth and saltiness of the stew have done wonders and you feel much better.
Lea can see it too because she says, ‘There’s more in the pot if you’d like.’
With a small noise of thanks, you fill up your bowl with a second helping.
Sitting back down, you stir the stew around for a moment and watch the steam rise.
Tentatively, you ask, ‘How’s the football going?’
‘It’s good. The team is doing good. How’s university?’
‘Same. I’m just starting to look for job openings for after my graduation.’
Lea fiddles with her ring, ‘Are you still thinking about teaching?’
‘That’s lovely. It’ll suit you.’
‘I’m pretty sure I want to teach kindergarten.’ You elaborate.
The blonde nods, ‘That suits you too.’
You two fall silent again.
Biting your lip, you try to come up with something to say. It’s strange, almost sad how awkward things feel now. Once upon a time, you had been so comfortable with each other. You’d been open with Lea in ways you never had been with anyone else. It was mutual.
Have things changed so much? Is it possible for a way back?
‘Lea?’
‘Yes?’
‘I just…’ You stop messing around with your food, forcing yourself to look at her properly.
‘I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the things I said. The last time we saw each other, I said a lot of cruel and awful things that I shouldn’t have. I did not mean them and I’m really sorry.’
Lea puts her spoon down, ‘I’m sorry too. You weren’t the only one who said things she didn’t mean.’
Her words are genuine, you can see it in the bright blue of her eyes.
Taking a deep breath, you blurt out, ‘I still love you Lea. I wish we’d never broken up.’
Surprise colours Lea’s pretty features.
‘I wish we’d never broken up either. There’s not been a day where I stopped loving you.’
‘Oh.’ You breathe.
The forward goes on, ‘Letting things end after our argument was a mistake. A huge mistake, mostly on my part. I wanted to call. I should have called.’
‘I’m not blameless…I wanted to call too but you were so angry. I-I thought you didn’t want me to call. I thought that you’d never want to hear from me again.’
Lea rests her elbows on the table, leaning closer to you. Your heart begins to beat more quickly, you’re certain you aren’t misreading the flicker of hope in her expression.
Swallowing hard, the German woman murmurs, ‘You called today.’
‘I did. You dropped everything to come over. Made me dinner too.’
Blushing lightly, Lea murmurs, ‘I was sort of trying to make a grand gesture.’
You smile, ‘It worked.’
Lea begins to grin, ‘It did?’
Almost like she can’t help herself she asks, ‘Do you think…Can we give us another try?’
A hundred things rush through your mind. Happiness and relief blooms in your chest.
Eagerly, you say, ‘I’d like that.’
Lea’s smile begins to take on a giddy edge and she reaches an open hand out across the table.
You take it without a split second’s hesitation.
Lea closes her fingers around yours, gaze alight with affection and pure contentment. It is a look you’d never thought you’d see again and it fills you with a sunshine like warmth.
‘Finish eating my love.’ She finally says, gently letting go of your hand.
The term of endearment causes a tingle of joy to spread through you. Enough so that you don’t stop smiling for the rest of the meal.
When you’re both done, Lea washes and you dry. She flicks some soapy water at you, her giggles filling the space.
You’d missed it. You’d missed her. You tell her so and she pulls you into her arms.
Her chin rests on your shoulder and she whispers, ‘I missed you every single second of every fucking day.’
You breathe in her smell, taking comfort in it and the safety of her arms once again.
‘Let’s never do that again.’
‘Deal.’ Lea promises.
Then she seals it with a kiss and oh my…you’d forgotten what it was like to be in heaven.
Lea’s lips are incredibly soft, the kiss slow and sweet. It’s everything and more, better than you’d remembered.
When you both part, there’s a single tear making its way down your cheek.
In a tender gesture, Lea wipes it off with the pad of her thumb.
A small relieved laugh escapes her, ‘I think we’re going to be okay.’
You pull her even closer, mouth quirking upwards against your lover’s lips because you know now that you’re never going to let her go again. This is going to work, you’d do your damndest to make sure of it.
summary: you gift lea something special for christmas
a/n: merry christmas! i'm also fully intending to write a prequel to this 🎄
A quiet simple Christmas.
It was all Lea had wished for really, after the year she’s had. Her club season with Bayern, qualifying for the Olympics and then winning it with Germany, the little injuries she’d sustained here and there…it’s had its ups and downs and now all Lea wants is just some peace and quiet at last.
That’s what she gets when she wakes, a soft smile immediately forming on her face.
You have an arm draped loosely around her waist, your face buried in her neck.
Lea thinks you must be trying to steal her body warmth with how close you are to her.
‘Merry Christmas my love.’ She whispers, pressing a gentle kiss onto your hair.
You stir a bit, mumbling unintelligibly before deliberately tugging more of the blanket away from your lover who laughs out loud at your blatant attempt to be the blanket hog.
‘If you’re cold, you could have just asked me to hold you.’ The blonde teases.
‘Then hug me.’
‘Please.’ You add cheekily.
Lea’s chuckles fill the room as she does as you ask, pulling you flush against her.
You sigh happily, melting into your wife whose comfort immediately envelops you.
‘Better than any space heater.’
‘Oh is that what you married me for?’ Lea gasps in mock outrage.
‘Course.’ You grin.
Soaking in the moment, you lay there for another twenty minutes before finally deciding to get up.
‘Merry Christmas Lea!’ You cheer.
The striker giggles, ‘Merry Christmas indeed.’
You lean in to share a slow kiss with her, trying to make sure she knows how thankful you are for her. Lea must feel it because she reciprocates in kind, taking her time in kissing you back.
Then she pulls away with a contented sigh, staring at you in the way she does sometimes, like she can’t believe you’re real.
With a tender caress to your cheek, she asks, ‘Waffles sound good to you?’
It does and ten minutes later, after you’ve brushed your teeth together, you’re sitting at the breakfast counter and Lea is wearing that adorably ridiculous apron that she always does when she cooks.
Embroidered on the hot pink apron are the words, ‘Kiss the cook.’
Obi had gotten it for her as a gag gift and you love it, happily kissing the chef every time she puts it on.
‘All you have to do is sit still and look pretty for me okay?’ Lea insists, waving away your protests to help.
‘Meine liebe come on. It’s not fair. The least I can do is cut the strawberries.’
‘Nope. You see this apron? It gives me the honour of being the chef. Your chef. So please just relax and let your personal chef do all the work.’
Rolling your eyes, you hold your hands up in surrender and do as she asks.
Lea smirks in satisfaction as she begins preparing the ingredients.
******
Breakfast is amazing. Your wife rushes through her meal though, fidgeting despite her best efforts as she waits for you to finish.
You giggle at her as you finish the last bite of waffle, purposely taking a while to chew and swallow it.
When you’re truly done, she practically dumps all the dirty dishes into the sink.
‘Okay! Time for presents please my love?’
The blonde hops from one foot to another, glancing at you with pleading blue eyes.
Unable to stop the laugh that bubbles up, you acquiesce with a nod and a bright smile.
Sitting by the tree, you’re quickly presented with a meticulously wrapped gift.
‘For you.’ Lea says, excitement clear in her words.
Picking at the sticky tape holding it closed, you unwrap it to find a delicate silver bracelet in a small box.
‘Oh Lea…it’s beautiful. Thank you.’
Your wife prompts, ‘Look at the inscription.’
It’s cool to touch and you hold it up so you can scrutinise it more closely.
Six digits in a careful cursive font.
Your wedding date.
It must show on your face, how touched you are because Lea places a light kiss onto your forehead.
‘I’m glad you like it.
‘I love it and I love you.’ You promise.
The Bayern Munich player blushes, ‘I love you too.’
Even after all this time, years of dating and a year of marriage, you still manage to elicit this reaction from her. It goes both ways.
Lea happily agrees to help you put on the bracelet and said piece of jewellery is reflecting the christmas lights strung on your tree when you reach under it for your wife’s present.
You had specifically chosen a plain red wrapping paper, tying an unassuming white ribbon around it. You know of the blonde’s mischievous habit all too well.
She can be silly, your Lea. That side of her is well hidden, only ever surfacing with the people she is truly comfortable with.
Even then, it’s only on special occasions like Christmas.
Her fans would never think of her as the sort of person who would inspect every individual package under the tree, looking for those with her name written on them and attempting to guess what it could be from the shape, size and weight of it but you know better.
Over the past few days, you’d caught Lea shaking various presents of hers, attempting to find the tiniest hint of what it could be.
It was why you’d only set out yours last night, pushing it all the way under the tree as a precaution.
Your efforts must have worked because the striker accepts it eagerly, muttering under her breath about how could she not have seen it before.
Her enthusiasm in tearing the paper off makes you giggle, the look on her face as she stops short getting a louder reaction.
With her forehead scrunched up and head tilted to the side, it’s an endearing sight.
Lea’s so genuinely curious when she asks, ‘Why are you giving me this back?’
The blonde’s fingers run over the worn leather cover of the journal she had given you for your last birthday. Unbeknownst to you, it had been something she’d bought on a whim after noticing how much you like writing down your thoughts, ideas and little observations.
Now your laughter trails off, something your wife can’t place glimmering in your eyes as you whisper, ‘Just open it. It’s yours now, you’ll see.’
With her heart beating faster in anticipation, Lea does as you request.
The first page is one she’d recognised immediately, her own handwriting being displayed in the form of a short note to you.
The following pages are unfamiliar and Lea has to take a moment to read them.
Your neat, deliberate handwriting fills the pages, dates marked carefully at the top of each entry.
17 March - My wife brought me coffee this morning before training. She spent ages getting it just right because she knows how picky I am. I think it tasted better because she made it for me.
Lea blinks, tears already forming in her eyes as she takes in the short but heartfelt paragraph. She flips again.
23 June - We spent the evening on the couch watching a movie. I think it was supposed to be a thriller, but Lea fell asleep halfway through. I didn’t mind. She’s so beautiful even when she sleeps.
Another page. This one practically making her heart burst with how much affection she holds for you.
19 November - After a tough match, Lea surprised me with flowers. She didn’t say much, just kissed me and handed them to me. She always knows what I need before I even do. I must be the luckiest person in the world to have her love me the way she does.
Entry after entry, page after page, you had chronicled the quiet moments of their life together. Little things that might have seemed inconsequential to anyone else but had clearly meant everything to you.
As the German woman continues to read, picking pages at random now that it’s clear the entire journal has been filled with these entries, her hands begin to tremble.
The sheer amount of love you’ve condensed in these pages…it’s the most precious gift Lea thinks she’s ever received till she reaches the final page.
Her breath hitches when she sees it.
Taped there, at the center of the page, is a small ultrasound photo.
Lea’s vision blurs as she takes it in, her mind spinning.
Beneath the picture, written in your achingly familiar handwriting are the words, ‘Merry Christmas Lea.’
For a moment, she simply stares at the page, unable to move or speak. All traces of her previous playfulness have disappeared, replaced with a quiet reverence.
Her fingers brush over the print out carefully as though trying to confirm it is real.
Your heart is pounding when slowly, she looks up at you with hopeful blue eyes.
‘You’re serious? I-Is this…’
‘Real. It’s so real.’ You confirm, salty tears of your own sliding down your cheeks.
Your wife sets the journal aside, closing the space between your bodies in a swift motion.
‘You’re incredible. T-This is everything. You’re everything.’ She stammers, holding onto you like you’re a dream and she’s afraid she might wake up.
‘I found out two weeks ago and I wanted to tell you but thought it might make the perfect present. I wanted to make it special because you deserve that.’
Lea pulls you into a breathtaking kiss then, only able to bear pulling away a fractional amount.
Just enough for her to place her hand over your stomach, tentatively brushing against the fabric of the sweater you’re wearing.
‘You’re in there.’ She whispers to your baby, the sentence filled so completely with adoration even though the blonde’s only known about them for a handful of minutes.
Her thumb moves in a slow circle, fresh tears spilling forth.
‘I can’t believe this…’ She chokes out.
You place your hand over hers, ‘You are going to be an amazing mom.’
Lea lets out a weak, sort of watery laugh, ‘Not without you meine liebe. We’re going to do this together. I’m so in love with you and I-’
She glances down to where her hand is resting, ‘I already love them too.’
The gasping sob you let out at that moment matches Lea’s, and you two stay like that for a long moment, foreheads touching and your hands joined over the tiny miracle growing inside you.
******
Later, much later when you’ve gone to make some tea, Lea picks up the journal again.
She flips through the pages, rereading every word, her tears drying but her smile never fading. When she gets to the last page again, she carefully folds the journal to her chest, cradling it as though it’s something fragile and irreplaceable.
When you return, Lea reaches for you, pulling you back into her arms. Her voice is soft but full of love as she mumbles against your shoulder, ‘You’ve made me the happiest person in the world. Every day, you make me the happiest person in the world.’
In answer, you can only smile, pressing a tender kiss to your lover’s cheek, ‘You do the same for me every day.’
Right there and then, as the snow falls outside and Lea pulls you even closer, she knows that this is by far, the best Christmas she’s ever had.
you are the best thing that's ever been mine | sydney lohmann
word count: 578
warnings: ~
summary: you're syd's and she takes care of the things she loves
a/n: requested, by @soccer-love 💌
sydney’s not a very careful person. she isn’t exactly careless, not by any means but she does occasionally lose things like her headphones and even more important items like her passport.
she gets hotheaded and receives yellow cards for it but she takes it all in her stride.
except when it comes to you. you alone are the anomaly.
from the time she was little, her parents had taught her to take care of the things she loves. and what she loves most is you.
she cherishes you beyond measure, being the softest of lovers to you.
the blonde cares. she cares so deeply and it’s evident to everyone who knows her.
from being the first by your side whenever you’re fouled by the opponent to arguing with said opponent and the referee, she readily adds to her tally of yellow cards for the season.
once, she’d even gotten carded because she had been too passionate in defending you to the referee. you’d been in the wrong in first place, having mistimed the tackle but sydney had come rushing to your defense anyway.
in the end, the matching set of yellow cards had earned you both a great deal of teasing from both your teammates and the fans.
sydney had proclaimed herself your knight in shining cleats after that.
and she took her self awarded title seriously.
you’ve never been a fan of crowded spaces, let alone with people you’re unfamiliar with. in fact, you actually go out of your way to avoid it, skipping as many media events as your club’s management would allow.
but with the premiere of bayern’s new documentary series, you know attendance for this event will be mandatory.
you and syd have always been a rather private couple, preferring to keep public displays of affection on the down low.
this time though, she reads your anxiety easily and makes an exception despite all the cameras around.
from the moment you’d stepped out of the car hired by the club, you have been tense.
at that point, syd had slipped her hand into yours, quietly reassuring you of her intention to stick close to you.
sydney’s steady presence helps but the more you walk down the carpet, the more reporters there are. they shout questions at you, photographers joining in by loudly telling you to look this way and that.
it’s overwhelming and clearly stressing you out.
so sydney goes one step further than she normally does, placing her hand on the small of your back and guiding you towards the venue.
her grasp is firm and there is no mistaking the casual ease in her action, how evidently familiar she is with your body.
there are cameras clicking, surely capturing the intimate nature of her gesture but you can’t bring yourself to mind.
sydney’s touch grounds you, lets the smile on your face be a little more genuine as you finally properly pose for pictures.
right before you actually leave the mess of media representatives behind, the blonde presses a swift kiss against your forehead. just a light brush of her lips onto your skin.
softly, she murmurs, ‘you okay?’
it’s with complete honesty and affection that you tilt your head to look at her, answering, ‘yes because you’re here.’
and syd can see that you mean it because her pretty hazel eyes light up.
her hand squeezes yours just once as she promises, ‘you are the best thing that’s ever been mine.’
I'm Losing It (All I Get's Jealousy) | Laura Freigang
warnings: ~
word count: 1377
summary: your girlfriend, laura gets jealous at national camp
a/n: jealousy is not something i've written before because jealousy isn't an emotion i have much experience with but i got two requests (one, two) so this is my attempt to do so
‘Hey.’ You laugh as a certain blonde pulls you into her lap, when you walk past her in the locker room.
‘I missed you.’ She complains, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck and tightening her arms around you.
‘I’m right here schatz.’ You murmur, leaning back into her.
Laura presses a kiss onto your forehead, content for you to stay where you are.
Even when more of your teammates trail into the locker room.
‘You’re a cosy pair.’ Sara immediately teases.
‘Also I hate to interrupt but it’s our turn for media.’ Jule adds, with a mischievous grin.
You giggle and turn around to kiss your girlfriend on her cheek, ‘See you in a bit.’
Laura pouts, ‘Do you really have to go?’
‘Yes.’ You hum and kiss her again to appease her.
The blonde accepts it and relents, letting you follow Jule out of the room.
The younger player pokes fun at you as soon as the two of you are out of the striker’s earshot.
‘You’re so in love with her. Like you should have seen your heart eyes.’
You blush and shrug, knowing better than to try and counter any sort of comment about the depth of your feelings for your girlfriend.
‘Really! When's the wedding?’
Her words get a laugh out of you, ‘I don’t know Jule but I will be sure to invite you when I do know.’
That's how it is with the Wolfsburg player. She is easy to get along with and makes you smile a lot.
With the media team facilitating, the activity goes by quickly and with Jule participating along with you, is a great deal of fun.
In fact, you laugh so much that you’re still smiling when you get back to the locker room.
Lea is there, having finished her own media day activity.
Your Bayern teammate sidetracks you as you try to make your way to Laura, with a simple request of helping her touch up her make up for photos in the new home kit.
You’re happy to oblige, biting your lip in concentration as you apply a fresh coat of mascara to her eyelashes.
When you are finished and turn back to where Laura was sitting, she’s gone.
Sydney tells you that she’d left for her own media day activity when you ask.
With a sigh, you go and look for a snack to tide you over till your girlfriend is free.
It seems like Obi has the same idea because you find her already digging into a bag of corn chips.
She offers to share it with you but only if you listen to the list of pick up lines she’s been working on, with every intention of annoying her own girlfriend with them once she’s back home.
Sitting beside her, you dip your hand into the bag as you listen.
‘Are you lightning? Cause you’re McQueen.’
You snort, ‘Awful.’
Lena chuckles before reading out another, ‘Are you a charger? Because I'm dying without you.’
This one doesn’t even merit any response other than you rolling your eyes.
‘What’s it like to be the most gorgeous person in the room?’
You giggle, ‘I don't know. I'd have to ask Laura.’
The midfielder groans, ‘Stop it. You have it much too bad for her.’
Eating another corn chip, you nod acceptingly and Obi shakes her head in disbelief.
‘They say nothing lasts forever. Want to be my nothing?’
‘Eh. It’s not completely dreadful.’ You feedback.
‘Are your shoelaces tied? Because I don’t want you falling for anyone else.’
‘Cheesy but better.’
Lena grins and encouraged by your words, tells you another, ‘Let’s play a game…not hide and seek though, people like you are hard to find.’
‘No. No. No. Obi, that is terrible.’
‘Well the whole point is to annoy my girlfriend, not sweep her off her feet. I've already done that.’ She points out proudly.
You grimace and the brunette offers you more corn chips.
‘Last one okay? I swear.’
Her excitement should have clued you in to how cringey the next one would be but you don’t realise it till after she deadpans, ‘I had a good pickup line ready to go, but you're so good looking I'm literally speechless.’
You burst out laughing and Lena does too. Actual tears are gathering in the corner of your eyes from how hard you are losing it.
It is at that moment that Laura appears beside you, irritation clearly written across her face.
‘Lau.’ You greet and are taken by surprise when she leans in.
Faster than you can react, she pulls you into a heated kiss. One that she dominates, leaving you entirely breathless when she draws back.
The blonde ignores the wide eyed look on the Wolfsburg player’s face, shortly stating, ‘Oberdorf, the only person allowed to use pick up lines on my girlfriend is me.’
Then she pulls you away from Obi, not loosening the grip she has on your hand until you are in the hotel room you both are sharing.
She stares at you then, with an expression you’ve never seen on her face before. It unnerves you if you are completely honest because she has never been unreadable to you. Not like she is now.
‘What's wrong schatz?’ You softly ask.
‘I don't like Lena trying her pick up lines on you.’
‘She didn’t mean anything by them, you know that she has a girlfriend. I agreed to listen to them in exchange for her sharing her snack with me.’ You explain.
Laura huffs, ‘I still don’t like it.’
‘Lau? Everyone here knows that I'm yours. That you are the one I am in love with.’
Your girlfriend mellows a little at your words.
Ever so gently, you tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and whisper, ‘I love you Laura. You know that.’
She sighs, shoulders slumping down, ‘I know you do. I love you too, which is why this is so hard.’
You frown in confusion and the Eintracht Frankfurt player fidgets with the rings on her fingers, almost as if she is embarrassed as she admits, ‘I just miss you so incredibly much. The past month has been more difficult than usual because the last time I was able to physically see you was at our last camp and that was cut short because I got injured. Now at this camp, I have barely been able to spend time with you.’
‘Oh.’ You breathe as you realise that there is a reason behind your favourite blonde’s sudden clinginess.
She hadn’t been exaggerating when she mentioned how much she missed you, earlier in the day and you mentally kick yourself for not seeing it sooner.
‘You've spent more time with Jule and Obi than me and that’s alright because I know you don’t see them all that often but I miss you. I really really miss you.’
Laura is on the verge of crying now, her bottom lip wobbling as she stands in front of you.
‘I'm sorry. I know the distance is hard but I'm here now okay?’
Slipping your arms around her waist, you draw your girlfriend close to you. The forward melts into your embrace immediately, her chin resting on your shoulder.
‘I shouldn't have gotten jealous. I'm sorry.’ She mumbles.
You hug her tighter.
‘Don’t apologise schatz.’
From the moment you and the blonde had started dating, the two of you have been aware of the challenges a long distance relationship would bring. What you hadn’t been aware of, prior to your conversation, was how much your girlfriend has been struggling with them.
After turning your head so that you can press an affectionate kiss against her neck, you say, ‘Summer break is coming soon and then it’ll be just you and me okay? We’ve got that trip to Mallorca planned and I am looking forward to spending every minute of it with you.’
‘That sounds like heaven.’ Laura whispers.
You hum in agreement and check your watch before adding, ‘Till then we have enough time to take a nap before our tactics meeting? I don’t know about you but all the media stuff has tired me out…’
