#I don’t know if it’s a distance makes the heart grow fonder situation but i’m like sorta good at retail and keeps me active and busy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

withleeknow · 10 months ago

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parallel lines.

pairing: jisung x reader genre/warnings: best friends au, unrequited love au, angst; unedited (nothing new lol) word count: 1.3k note: @joy: one of your numbers was “things you said while you were driving” :D hope you like it boo, but i also hope you perish, but i also hope you like it <3

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

live in the moment. don’t let the present pass you by. that’s what people love to tell you.

it’s a bit of a cliché, but it’s not terrible advice. actually, it's something that you have to remind yourself from time to time too - to focus more on what’s happening in the now before it becomes a piece of the past.

if it were any other day, sure, you’d be up for internalizing those words.

but today? no, today you can only focus on one breathe at a time, one stoplight at a time.

because today, he’s leaving. one of the people you’ve cherished the most your entire life is leaving you and there’s nothing you can do to stop it from happening.

you’re not even listening to what’s being said from the passenger seat of your car. in fact, in the past forty five minutes, you’ve only been nodding along, making a noncommittal noise every now and then to pretend like you’re absorbing whatever information he’s feeding you.

eventually, you hum at the wrong time, and that’s when he catches on.

“hey! you're not even listening to me,” jisung complains, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“sorry.” the apology is insincere as it rolls off your tongue. “i’m just a little distracted.”

“why?” he asks.

how is that even a question? you spare him a glance, then you tell him, “i’m literally driving you to the airport right now.”

he looks at you, opens his mouth to say something but stops himself before any word could come out.

you turn your focus back to the road, thinking about how the distance keeps getting shorter and shorter, how you’re just getting closer to the ending of a chapter in your life. you could drive slower and bide your time, but what good does that do? you could stall for five or ten more minutes, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s still getting on that plane and leaving you behind.

after a moment of silence, jisung says, “i thought we agreed we wouldn’t let this be sad.”

“how could it not be sad? you’re moving away. we’re saying goodbye.”

“i’ll still come visit,” he tries to reason. “we can facetime and text every day. you can fly out to stay with me sometimes. it’s not like we’re never going to see each other again.”

you huff out a breath, gripping the wheel tightly. “but it won’t be the same,” you say quietly.

to that, jisung doesn’t have a solution to appease you. because what could he even offer you at this point? what you said is true - once he leaves, that’s it. things will never be the same again. absence doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder. sometimes, absence just sucks.

you go over the question in your head a couple times, wondering how you could make it sound less pathetic but in the end, you find that there’s not really any way around it. “would you ever come back?” you ask. “you know, not just to visit. would you come back?”

the man beside you purses his lips in thought.

“i don't know,” his voice is small as he looks out the window wistfully. it's unlike him, but you can't exactly fault him for it. this is one of your last moments together. just minutes ago, you practically refused to let him make light of the situation and face it for what it really is - a looming goodbye that eerily feels like a farewell, and you have to try your best to focus on the road instead of breaking down in front of him. “i don't know if there's anything here for me anymore.”

that stings.

what about me? you think but don’t dare to utter out loud. did you finally outgrow me?

sometimes, you think jisung knows. knows that your feelings for him extend far beyond the confines of platonic friendship. knows that you’ve loved him ever since you knew what love was, or maybe he was the reason why you even knew what love was in the first place.

he’s silly and far too unserious for his own good a lot of the times, but he’s not stupid. and you yourself don’t exactly do a very good job at concealing your foolish heart.

you let the remainder of the drive marinade in heavy silence. you’re too distraught to pretend that you aren’t, to try and make jokes and sweep it all under the rug. when you get to the airport, you help him get his luggages from the trunk, then watch as he drags them inside.

his whole life, packed up in suitcases.

you observe jisung from a distance as he goes to the correct counter to get check in his things. two minutes and the suitcases are already off. the lady behind the counter gives him a manufactured smile as she waves him off with her perfectly manicured hands.

so quick, so easy. the process of leaving you, done in mere minutes.

he returns to you with only a bag slung over his shoulder, his passport in his hands, and a sad smile on his face.

if jisung knows, then he’s pretty decent at pretending he’s just as clueless as the next person. he has never brought it up, never even hinted that he’s aware of how you feel about him and that’s why you’re never sure if he really holds this knowledge or not.

but there’s something different about right now. maybe it’s just because this is your final moment together before the chapter forever closes, but there’s something in the way that he’s looking at you. soft, delicate features and big brown eyes tinged with regret, with a little bit of guilt.

you go in for a hug to avoid being scrutinized under jisung’s gaze any longer. you both just stand there for a couple minutes, your arms around his waist, his arms around your shoulders. your heart begging him to stay while his aches to leave.

you know he’s always wanted to leave. leave this place, leave this city. but you can’t help feeling bitter about it because it means leaving you too.

when you pull away, your eyes are burning with unshed tears but you don’t let yourself cry, not in front of him. there’s plenty of time to deal with your grievances later, when you’re alone.

“text me when you land, okay?” you say, faking a smile. then you pause, “i love you.”

jisung ruffles your hair, tries to do it the playful way he always does and tacks on a grin for good measure, but you know it’s not entirely sincere judging by the way it doesn’t reach his eyes. goodbyes are inherently sad, after all.

“love you too,” he says. it’s not unusual for the two of you to say the same words but mean completely different things.

his hand lingers on your hair as the grin dulls into a tight-lipped smile. you watch him turn around and walk away, and the burning sensation behind your eyes intensifies.

it dawns on you then, that it doesn’t really matter if he knows about your feelings or not. it doesn’t matter because he’s already made the decision to pack up his life and forget about this place forever. it doesn’t matter because knowing doesn’t change anything; your own feelings are yours to bear and he shouldn’t have to be responsible that you’re in love with him.

you stare at his retreating figure that grows smaller and smaller with every step, until he passes through the security gates and you can’t even see him anymore. you hoped he would look back, but he didn’t.

and in that moment, you know that it doesn’t matter, not even a little bit, because he can’t love you the same way you love him.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz1skz @jazziwritesthings (italicized = can’t tag)

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #han jisung angst #han jisung scenarios #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #han jisung x you #stray kids #han jisung

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katsukismrs · 1 year ago

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let you break my heart again.

warning: hurt ‘n no comfort, bakugou is emotionally unavailable </3, reader is heartbroken, depression signs (not eating enough).

a/n: i’m back :) inspired by let you break my heart again by laufey.

🎵Feeling kind of sick tonight. All I've had is coffee and leftover pie. It's no wonder why🎵

Who knew love could be so draining? it hurt. and it hurt so bad. especially when the person you loved wasn’t as emotionally available as you. it hurts, you need somebody to shield you from the storm of your own mind. you’re slipping further into the never ending void of your own mind, you’re not meeting your physical needs enough.

🎵Ooh, still you take up all my mind. I don't even think that you care like I do.🎵

Why do you love him so much? he never cares for anybody, he hardly cares for himself a lot of the time, why are you expecting a guy like that to love you? you’re so gullible to think that you have a chance with him, the katsuki bakugou! he’ll never have time for you.

🎵 I should stop, heaven knows I've tried🎵

Distance makes the heart grow fonder, they said. you had to learn the hard way, from whatever this was. you were a deer chasing a lion, even if you knew you’d be dead by the end of it.

🎵One day, I will stop falling in love with you🎵

A lie you keep telling yourself, or so it looks like. you don’t know whether you’ll get out this vicious cycle or not, it’s depressing; having to be in a situation like this. could you stop being so naïve?

🎵Some day, someone will like me like I like you.🎵

It hurts, but he might not be your true love, as much as you want him to be. Maybe your true love is out there having his heart broken, too. by someone they think is the right one. but you want him. and it hurts! love is so brutal, so brutal..

🎵Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend that we are more than friends.🎵

Until then, you’ll live in your delusions, dreaming of living in a big city, in a luxurious house, having your children run around the house wreaking havoc. that’s the life you want, but will it be yours? you know your answer: a brief, brutally honest, disgusting no. you’ll never be his. get over it.

🎵Then of course I'll let you break my heart again.🎵

But until anything happens, you’ll let yourself run dry and be broken beyond repair, so maybe he can see you, love you. you’ll let yourself continue in this vicious cycle and keep getting tortured. it’s the best thing.. right?

🎵 I'm just tryna understand. What I am to you. More than songs we've exchanged. Midnight calls. Sunset views.🎵

You’re somewhat close to him, but all the connections you’ve had were through songs, or you’d call eachother because everyone is asleep, but he’d hang up a little over the 5 minute mark, since he needed his sleep. and he’d leave you stranded.

“The sunset looks nice.” he speaks to himself as he’s walking back to the dormitory.

“it is.” you spoke with a small smile.

that’s about 60% of your weekly or even monthly conversations together, you can’t even consider yourself a friend of his, you’re so stupid to have fallen in love with him.

🎵Promise I don't mean to cry. But I get overwhelmed and confused.🎵

Your day’s endings end in endless sobbing, that eventually lulls you to sleep, you want something other than the wetness of your pillow and the warmth of your blanket(s) to care for you. you want somebody, but you’re so distant now that nobody likes you.

🎵If only you knew what I felt like.🎵

You wish you could muster up the courage to tell hik your true feelings. i love you is a cursed three word sentence that dies at the tip of your tongue, and you can’t speak it out because you can’t feel it from him.

🎵One day, I will stop falling in love with you. Some day, someone will like me like I like you. Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend that we are more than friends. Then of course I'll let you break my heart again🎵

It’s a cycle. it’s a loop. it’s never ending. someone needs to pull you out this torturous marathon that has no end, and no prize to win at the end, you’ll have to surrender and quit, you can’t win, you’ll never win.

🎵Some day, one day I will stop falling in love with you. Until I do, I'll be thinking of you. Let you break my heart again🎵

You have hope in yourself, though. that hasn’t dissipated, you hold the hope of escaping this endless loop, but until then you’ll nourish in the torture, trying to pick your broken pieces up like puzzle pieces, and trying to conceal your feelings, until the true one comes to you, naturally.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou angst #bakugo angst #mha angst

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miniseokminnies · 1 year ago

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Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder — Lee Seokmin

♡ pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader ♡genre: established long distance for work idol!seokmin ♡wc: 0.8k ♡warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex, mutual masturbation, switch!seokmin, switch!reader, praise kink ♡a/n: a small tiny self indulgent drabble after the havoc lee seokmin wreaked on the timeline today. GUTS!hongjoong will be out this week i just had to get this out of my head first. my like 12 followers are eating good this week hehe (follow me for more multi stan fics)

“I miss you, come home” you pouted at your phone screen, which now housed a blinding smile from your boyfriend at the other end of the video call.

“I wish I could, darling,” he raked his free hand through his hair, “but this is for work” he sighed. You sat down on your bed, now seeming incredibly empty, Seokmin had been so busy with schedules that he hadn’t been able to stay over in quite sometime, let alone just come over to see you. You missed the way he filled up the space that now felt too big and cold just for you.

“I know, and I’m so proud of you and the rest of the boys, I just…really miss you” you huffed, laying back on your pillows. Seokmin affirmed your feelings and assured you that he felt the same before launching into an animated story about the plane ride to Japan. The two of you talked for a while before you noticed the flush of his cheeks, “Minnie, are you okay? You look uncomfortable”

“I—uh, yeah” he hissed, “I just really miss you”

“Oh-oh” you realized what he was saying feeling a blush of your own creep across your cheeks, “just from talking to me?” you smirked.

“Yes,” he covered his eyes with his hand, embarrassed, “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry—I’ll just..go”

“No..” you bit your lip, “show me…” you saw his eyes snap open and look at you in disbelief before taking in your expression and quickly turning the camera around. You easily spotted the bulge in his pajama pants, thin fabric leaves little to the imagination. Seokmin’s free hand began to palm over it and a familiar whine filled your ears. The sound went straight to your core.

“Baby..” he breathed, “ca-can I?” you nodded, knowing your camera was still on your face and that he could see you. Not needing to be told twice, he shimmied out of the pajamas and his boxers. His cock sprung free and stood stiff against his stomach. Watching, you saw him carefully wipe the bead of pre cum that was leaking over the head and spread it down. Quickly Seokmin was fucking up into his hand, “I wish you were here,” he whined, “always make me feel s’good,” praising you when you were hundreds of miles away. Your own hand snaked its way down between your legs, eager for some release. Seokmin, always knowing you better than you knew yourself saw the change in your face, “If you’re going to touch yourself, at least be fair and let me see” he begged. Eager to please, you quickly discarded your sleep shorts and panties and situated the camera so he could get a good view. Dipping two of your fingers into your own pussy you bit down a moan, Seokmin was not as quiet, seeing one of his favorite sights before him he let out a sound that was halfway between a whine and a moan. The speed of his strokes increased now that you both were involved.

“Slow down,” you ordered, “you don’t get to cum without me,” a protest died in his throat as you saw his speed decrease. His strokes evened out and he set a slow pace as you moved to stimulate your own clit.

“What I wouldn’t give for those to be my fingers” Seokmin breathed out, unable to take his eyes away from the screen, no matter how much he wanted to squeeze them shut, “imagine those are my fingers, darling” he instructed. He was certainly thinking about your warm pussy hugging his dick instead of his own hand. You let a moan escape your lips, “baby, please let me speed up, I can’t keep go-going like this when you sound so pretty”

“I’ll allow it” you feigned calmness, when actuality you felt the coil in your stomach begin to tighten. Seokmin began fucking up into his hand at a sickening pace, so you knew he was close too. You moved your fingers back to your entrance and slowly shoved three of them back in. You did your best to match his pace.

“Baby, can I cum now,” he whined, unable to keep his eyes open any longer, “please”

“mhmm” you hummed, feeling your release hurtling ever closer. Seokmin relished being given permission and hot white spurts began to release. He fucked himself through his orgasm, just as the coil in your stomach snapped. Both of you laid there breathless for a moment before you heard a pounding on the door of Seokmin’s hotel room.

“Dokyeom-ah!” you heard the voice of Soonyoung call from the other side.

“I am so incredibly busy right now,” Seokmin replied, trying to even out his tone.

“Yeah, I know” Soonyoung replied, “walls are thin shut the fuck up”

#bennie’s works #lee seokmin imagines #lee seokmin x reader #lee dokyeom x reader #seventeen smut #lee dokyeom imagines #dokyeom smut #lee seokmin smut #seokmin x reader #seokmin smut #lee seokmin #dk #seventeen imagines

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just-orbiting-you · 4 months ago

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I’m so so glad you’re being honest and transparent about AYS and jikook’s dynamics change. I felt really weird after I finished watching the show and when i came to X and tumblr most jikookers were focusing on the skinship moments but no body is talking about how off everything felt between them. I think you summed it up pretty nicely so I won’t repeat what was said but watching how jk acted when jm was sick made my heart sink. I felt so so bad for jm i was praying that there’s someone from staff at least taking care of him. There was zero worry or compassion from jk which shocked me a lot. I think this is where I realized that they’re definitely not together and I’m ok with that. Kinda relieved tbh, i feel like i finally have a clear answer. Now regarding tae being in the next episode, i saw the clip and JK was being his usual passive aggressive self lol, that’s just how he is with tae and now with jimin too apparently. I have to admit, now that I’m seeing jkk in a whole different light I’m not worried about how different jk is gonna treat vmin, none of them is in a relationship so I don’t care if he’s nicer to v. I just hope jimin had a great time and enjoyed himself (tae and jk too) i hope they all had a good time. I only wish jimin wouldn’t receive hate after the episode no matter how it turns out.

hey anon, im responding but with intention that im hoping you’ll see the response :). i don’t really want other anons in my inbox criticizing your words. from someone who thought like you, i hope we can enjoy the show and engage with it critically instead of just writing it off as a "be careful what you wish for."

while i think this point could get us backed into a corner a little bit, i've had a few anons, including this one write about how they could be omitting the truth for the sake of the show, to fit a narrative. if we turn to speculation instead of looking at what they show us head on, it can be hard to fully believe. what we do know is they had to see each other to plan the show, they saw each other at yoongi's concert, at hobi's enlistment (and maybe drinking that night before who knows). i think face era was a hindrance to their friendship, but as the year went on things got better. i think about that tiny clip from jimin's production diary livestream and jimin was so excited to see jungkook, jungkook was all smiles like nothing changed.

i think, even the people we love most, we don't see often or even don't try to make an effort to see based in individual circumstances. and we don't know their circumstances outside of bts and solo schedules. with bts going on group hiatus, things were already going to change. relationships change naturally and i think giving jikook that grace is okay. i don't think their relationship has turned into one of vitriol or negativity. they still very much care about each other and i think if this was how the year started off, the distance from each other probably propelled them into deciding to enlist (distance makes the heart grow fonder and such). also i think you can see them start to fall into their ways as the trip carries on. i felt a dramatic shift in tone after their boat ride and once jungkook cooks for them, it feels like we are at the jikook we know. so i hope this show was able to help them reconnect.

I felt so so bad for jm i was praying that there’s someone from staff at least taking care of him. There was zero worry or compassion from jk which shocked me a lot.

this anon and a few other posts in the jikook tag were talking about this and i think i have changed my opinion on this. jungkook has known jimin for years, he probably knows when jimin needs in stressful situations and that might just be a little space and some jokes to get him laughing. jungkook didn't bother him when he rested, he let him be. i think jungkook did what a friend would do in this instance, and try to go about their day making the most of it while conscious of jimin's state. possibly the camera involved maybe could have escalated the level of jokes around jimin's misfortune. but from what was on camera, jimin started feeling better after the boat and they ended the trip on a good note.

i don't even want to speak on the tae stuff, because that will open a big can of worms. i appreciate you coming forward as well to talk about it as well. definitely rewatch the show too i think a second watch could change how you're viewing it.

#anon ask

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the-travelling-witch · 1 year ago

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Hi Holly! How are you hun?

For the self ship game 💕 and 💔 for you and Belphie (Obey Me) and Xiao (Genshin)

i’m doing okay, trying not to get life get to me, so same old really; what about you? <3

💕: Who’s the clingier one in the relationship?

Xiao

[answered here]

Is it a surprise to anyone if I say Belphie? No, it’s not? Well there’s your answer haha. But for real, Belphie’s one hell of a clingy demon, his sin and being the youngest of his brothers enabling him; not that I mind though, I’m welcoming the physical affection with open arms literally

Most of the time, he’s asleep; I know, another shocker. Even if we start up awake, just cuddling while watching a movie or talking, it’s never too long until he drifts off. He really fights it at times, trying desperately to stay awake and not succumb to the pull of sloth but he’s fighting a losing battle. With me running my fingers through his hair, the rhythmic rise and fall of my chest and my steady heartbeat as a lullaby, Belphie is out like a light before you can say pillow. (“Do I look like a body pillow to you?” - “Mhm, the comfiest one.”). But it’s okay, he’s really cute dozing off like that and being all comfy with him usually sends me right into a much needed nap as well (Belphie, the weighted blanket demon ^^).

“You really need to sleep more. Come here and nap with me.”

“Sure sure, I’ll be right there.”

But his clinginess doesn’t just pertain to cuddling and napping. Belphie has the tendency to just lean on me (and drape his entire weight onto me) when we’re standing somewhere or sit as close to me as possible when given the chance. If we’re out and about he’s also prone to wrapping his arm around my waist, leaning his head on my shoulder, hugging me from behind or holding hands.

“You’re pretty big on pda, I was really surprised. Any reason for that?”

“No reason” *glares at a demon over my shoulder*

[this is where we proceed into jealous! belphie territory]

💔: Is it hard being away from each other?

Well it’s said that absence makes the heart grow fonder but my heart is already plenty fond, so no absence please >///<

I do think it depends on the kind of absence it is; could we come see each other when we want to or are we separated not by choice? Because I think getting a bit of distance every now and then and giving each other space regularly is important; i wouldn’t want to suffocate my partner after all <3 But if it’s not up to us, it’s a different story—

Xiao is used to being alone and so am I tbh, so you might think we’d do well being apart from one another and to a certain degree we are. But now that we have had a taste of affection and all the (physical) comfort that comes from it, being denied that is like being thrown into cold water. So while we’re okay on a surface level, we still feel like something’s missing. At least, we have to know that the other is doing okay, if nothing else.

“Today I found a wild glaze lily blooming near the inn. I wish I could have shown it to you.”

“Let’s check it out once I’m back.”

Belphie… is playing the role of the youngest brother once more. If asked about it, he’s not going to reveal his full annoyance about me being back in the human realm but he’s huffing every other second and pouting basically all the time. On more than one night he’s sent me messages about how he can’t fall asleep without me and I’m always there to reply right away because I can’t either; once you get used to a deadweight lying on you, there’s no going to sleep without it. But talking on the phone helps lessen the heartache a little (I don’t want to count how often we fell asleep on call and I woke up to my phone being dead). But being a witch and all, a summoning spell solves a lot of problems.~

“Next time warn me before summoning me out of the blue.”

“You literally just whined my ear off about how you can’t sleep; we both know you’re super pleased with this situation.”

[self-ship ask game]

#┊✩彡 divine correspondence ♡#┊✩彡 letter from — trin ♡#i’m having the biggest obey me relapse rn #barbatos belphie and solomon are so on the forefront of my mind rn #so i had to answer this !!#ੈ♡˳ the witch’s lovers┊͙#[ship names still to be found]

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hotgirlbiz · 2 years ago

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Thinking of you…I miss you. I feel a little broken hearted over us. I wonder if all this be crossing your mind as well.. I can’t change what’s been said and done.

I just needed to disconnect. There was an inherent dissociation I felt with our relationship. I truly couldn’t fathom that a situation like that could occur between us. Without saying the details, I just felt hurt, upset, angry…. It wasn’t something I was going to sweep under the rug. I felt left behind in the process of trying to “get over it.”

I still don’t know how to move forward even though I want to. I’m afraid it won’t be the same. That the foundation is cracked and the distance has made it irreparable.

I can’t be the only one who genuinely wants to find true resolution so a new leaf can be turned over. We have to meet in the middle , but how does that happen? Who makes the first move? If we really care about the relationship that we have, how do we come back?

It seems only time will tell. Hopefully the heart grows fonder. Give it to the Most High, right?

#me #my post

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mik0rin · 3 years ago

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the luvrs club ❥ pothos

pothos: the god of yearning and desire. the passionate longing between lovers, especially when one is unattainable.

“they say distance makes the heart grow fonder but i don’t know how much “fonder” my heart can get. i want to see you, hold you, and feel your skin against mine. why can’t we close the distance and love each other face to face.”

timeskip!iwaizumi x college!black fem reader genre: angst with a happy ending, argument warnings: cursing, insults, mentions of mental health/insecurity word count: 6,975

playlist: spotify apple music

m.list next host

14 hours, 26 minutes, and 16 seconds…. 17…. 18,

And not a single notification from your boyfriend. You stare at your phone, waiting and silently wishing just one text would pop up. Even the three dots indicating that he was typing would satisfy you but there was nothing there. By now you should be accustomed to the lack of communication but the reason for the radio silence is what bothers you.

An aggravated sigh escapes your mouth and you get up from your position on the couch, abandoning your phone in the living room as you walk to your kitchen. You begin opening all your cabinets in search of something to soothe the festering irritation in your chest.

And like an added soundtrack to your life, there’s a tiny voice, one so small- so quiet urging, begging you to go back to your phone and text him. The voice is very persuasive, you cannot deny, as it lists off reasons as to why you should be the one to reach out first. You ignore the whisper, muting it because it can’t always be you.

A relationship requires the continuous effort of two people and your heart could no longer bear the strain of double work.

“I’m not texting him, fuck all that” You huff as you grab a bottle of juice.

Soft footsteps thud against the hardwood floor as you trudge back to the comfort of your couch. You pick up your phone again, ignoring the empty notification center and scroll through multiple delivery apps.

The juice has done nothing to pacify the hurt spreading throughout your body like a never ending flame. You need something else to distract you because soon your thoughts will be gasoline to the wildfire of pain.

After ordering from your favorite restaurant you switch your attention to the TV, hoping the background noise from whatever you choose would aid in the distraction you so desperately seek. But as you browse through countless anime, Netflix originals, and Disney movies, nothing interests you or rather everything seems to pale in comparison to the situation at hand.

You shut the TV off and opt to sit in silence, staring at the ceiling and listening to the white noise that fills your apartment.

It works, for a while.

Until the quiet is too quiet. Until the steady tick of the clock is growing louder by the second and its echoes in your brain, almost like an insult that still stings your heart years later. Why did you think this was a good idea? Why would you give yourself the opportunity to be alone with your thoughts when that has only destroyed you multiple times before?

“This is driving me crazy. I have to do something.” You groan, sitting up abruptly. You grab your phone from its spot on the coffee table, once again ignoring the lack of notifications from one Iwaizumi Hajime and calling someone who would listen to all your troubles.

If you couldn’t be alone with your thoughts then what’s the harm in sharing them with someone else?

Five rings pass before you hear the click that tells you the other person has finally picked up. There’s something resembling a sigh coming from the other end and you take it as a greeting and a sign to start running your mouth.

“Kunimi, your friend is a whole bitch and I hope you know that.”

“Well, happy holidays to you too and I’m good thanks for asking.” Kunimi replies sarcastically, completely unfazed by your words.

“Yea, hello or whatever. But can you believe this man hasn’t contacted me in the last-” You glance at the time before continuing, “-14 hours and 36 minutes?”

“You’ve been keeping count?” His voice is steady and level as usual but with the years of friendship between the two of you there’s no way you would miss the shock lurking in between his words.

Your voice wavers as you bite back tears.

“Yeah… This is a new record for him. And at this point I can’t figure out if I’m really hurt or just over it all. I never thought he would treat me like this.”

The small sniffle and brokenhearted look you wear is all it takes for Kunimi to understand that whatever has transpired in the past 14 hours has truly hurt you. And the brown-haired boy might not be the greatest at comfort but for his best friend, he would do all he could.

“What should I do, Ki?” You mumble out.

His voice softens as he speaks.

“First you have to tell me what happened. I can’t help you if I don't know.”

“Okay well remember how I said Iwa’s been distant lately? That’s where it all started.”

Time, the most precious element in a long distance relationship. Everything depends on time, whether it be time zones or figuring out how much sleep you can sacrifice to talk to your beloved. And if the one in your heart truly means that much to you, you would scrap up minutes and seconds to hear a warm hello.

Your relationship with Iwaizumi certainly began that way. The hours long facetimes and constant texts. Voice messages and random photos sent throughout the day used to fill the void of physical contact. And staying up late to wish the other good morning before you lay your head down to rest. All of it was enough to keep your heart beating even when you were 5,471 miles apart.

However, the normal hours-long facetimes become simple texts and missed calls. It turns into short two word answers and noncommittal hums in response. All you start to hear from Iwaizumi is “Sorry, I’m busy” and “I’ll call you back later.”

Those were lies and empty promises of course and as time went on they only got worse. Sometimes you would go days without nothing more than a “hello” and when you pressed for more, it only resulted in disappointment. You tried not to read too much into it, blaming it on school and environment. You began telling yourself you shouldn’t expect so much, that you were being unreasonable and clingy. Hajime had so much to worry about, especially being so far from the only home he’s known and his distant behavior wasn’t a reflection of how he felt about you.

That’s until he began posting more often and updating his story, something which he never cared about before. You saw him hanging out with friends and going on weekend trips. He was laughing and smiling, a sight you haven’t seen in weeks. You want to be happy for him but you can’t, you can’t because you couldn’t fight off the feeling of being ignored, of being forgotten, and disregarded.

And if that wasn’t enough, that’s when you start seeing her. You didn't know who she was, maybe a classmate or coworker but she’s plastered everywhere like annoying billboards outside apartment windows. She begins showing up in his videos, in his posts, and comments. You didn’t miss the way her arm would drape over his shoulders or her lingering looks full of some emotion you can’t quite place.

When you ask Hajime about her you make sure it's casual and not accusatory, because the last thing you want to do is start an argument with someone who tends to be blinded by their own pride. His response was definitely one you wanted to hear but not necessarily one you believed. He told you she was his roommate’s sister and that they were just friends. And while all of that seemed true you couldn’t shake the feeling of jealousy.

The kind that starts to cut away at your soul leaving nasty scars and you’re not sure they’ll ever heal. Why is that she got more of his time than you did? What about her was so special that it cast a shadow on your love?

So instead of tending to your soul scars, you cover them with cheap band-aids and off-brand ointment. You began making excuses and no longer questioned Iwa’s actions. He was your boyfriend after all. He was yours and you were his, and that should be reassurance enough.

Well that’s what you thought until one night your phone starts ringing in the middle of your Criminal Minds binge. You reach over, grabbing it from your nightstand and a smile so bright, one that could put the stars to shame stretches across your face.

He was calling you. After days of barely getting past the hi, hello, and how are you’s, Iwaizumi was making the first move. You press accept, holding the phone up to your ear.

“Hi, Haji!” Your voice is warm and sweet, everything you want his to be.

All you hear is rustling, indistinct voices, and faint music. So you repeat yourself, assuming he can’t hear you because of bad cell service.

“Hellloooooo, Hajime?”

You pull the phone away from your ear and check the time in Los Angeles, it was only a few minutes past 2 pm and you wonder if he’s at work. This would not be the first time Iwa has accidentally dialed your number while on the clock. You decide to check his location that way you could end the call without any worries and shoot him a text to let him know what happened.

But his location isn’t at the local gym, no he’s still at home and that’s when you hear it. A loud laugh from Iwaizumi and the voice that follows it, her voice. They were together and you were a mistake stuck in his pocket, a voice stuck behind a cracked glass screen.

You want to be petty, you want to scream and yell profanities loud enough to embarrass them both but you knew your boyfriend. He wasn’t one to react to that and he wasn’t one to cheat either. Iwa was the one who insisted the two of you pursue a long distance relationship after you expressed doubts about it.

Doubts that are coming to fruition day by day.

So you text him, asking him if he meant to call you. You knew the answer was no but you just want to see what he does next. The vibration from his phone echoes in the call and you can hear more rustling as he pulls it out of his pocket.

“Babe?” Iwaizumi questions, heavy confusion dripping from the singular word.

“I think you called me by accident.”

“Yea I think so. Didn’t even notice, sorry.” You can clearly picture him rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he apologized to you.

“I figured since you seem real busy. I’ll talk to you whenever you decide to actually call me.” You shift in your bed, getting ready to end the call.

“Nah, I’m not busy. I’ll call you in like two hours, okay?”

“Mmhm, bye” You hum, not believing it all and ending the call. If he wasn’t busy, why not continue the conversation at that moment?

Unlike usual, disappointment didn’t follow Iwa’s words and to your surprise he did call two hours later. The facetime call started with its usual pleasantries and the feeling that scratched away at your soul had been reduced to a minor itch and that was enough to make you happy for the moment.

Even if he did keep his word doesn’t mean his behavior changed completely.

“How were finals? I know you were really worried about it.” You ask.

“Fine.” His voice is flat and he doesn’t elaborate nor does he ask you about yours.

This is exactly how the rest of the conversation goes. Hajime treats talking to you like an annoying chore and despite calling you first he only responds with dry answers like he couldn’t be bothered and that’s only if he chose to answer. Other times he would leave your words hanging in the air, unacknowledged and unanswered. Once again you were the only one putting in the effort and it hurts. It feels like a vine is wrapping around your heart and digging its thorns into the delicate flesh.

“Oh! Did I tell you I got my hair done?” You start taking off your bonnet, excitement buzzing throughout your entire body. You look into the camera, adjusting the black soft locs to frame your face.

Iwaizumi appears a minute later, his eyes doing a quick glance over before disappearing off the camera like some stupid magic trick.

“It’s nice.”

Nice? Just nice?

You know what would be nice?

If your boyfriend actually gave you the attention you deserve. If he complimented you in a way that would make your heart swell ten times its size. If he made you feel wanted, made you feel adored.

But, he didn't.

Instead it’s like he left the door open, letting in the chill of December and your heart was at risk of severe frostbite.

You let out a shaky breath, swallowing tears of hurt and anger. You've had enough.

“Do you have something better to do?”

“What you say?”

“Do you have something better to do? Am I boring you or what?” You snap.

“What’s with the attitude? You need to chill out.” Iwa reprimands, not enjoying the sudden change in tone.

You scoff. An attitude? At this point, he shouldn’t expect anything less especially with the way he’s been treating you.

“One, don’t tell me what to do. Two, have you even realized this is the first time we’ve talked for more than 5 minutes in the last three weeks? If you would even call this a conversation considering the fact I’m the only one talking.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t want to argue with you, he doesn’t want the conversation to go any further because he knows how the both of you are. And he knows that anything past the point will only result in a wound much too deep to heal. So he stays quiet.

But antagonizing him was one of your special talents.

“And as usual you got nothing to say. You’re on hush mode just as I motherfuckin’ expected. You never fucking change. Or actually you don’t care enough to change.”

“And exactly how am I supposed to change? What am I supposed to say? It’s not like you ever give me the room to talk. You only talk about yourself. Everything is always about you or are you too self-absorbed to notice?”

You open your mouth to respond but he cuts you off before the words are able to form on your tongue.

His voice raises a couple octaves in an attempt to imitate you.

“It’s always ‘Oh look at my hair Haji,’ ‘I bought this Zumi,’ ‘I got 60 on my test Haji.’ So tell me exactly how I'm going to contribute to the conversation?”

This isn’t any ordinary imitation, no he’s mocking you. And if he was trying to hurt you, well he could celebrate a win. His statement causes a very familiar feeling to return, the feeling of thorns tearing away at your skin.

“It’s not like you’re any better, Hajime. Don’t sit on my phone and act all high and mighty. I ask you a question, you brush me off. I try to get you to talk, you don’t even respond. I’m always met with silence like it physically pains you to say more than one letter to me. Do you know how that feels? I feel so little, like I don’t matter, like I'm unimportant. Yet, you have all the energy in the world to talk to other bitches.”

The dark-haired boy rubs his temples, clearly showing his irritation.

“Oh so that’s what this is about? How many times do I have to tell you she’s just a friend AND my roommate’s sister. Do you even hear how you sound right now? It’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t care if she’s the Princess of Geneva. She gets all of your time and attention, while your actual girlfriend has to damn near beg for you to even text her. Do you see the issue? I shouldn’t feel like an outsider in my own fucking relationship. I shouldn’t have to witness you playing house with other people while I have to pray for a crumb of your time.”

“So I’m not allowed to hang out with the people around me? I have to always cater to you and live my life on your time? When we don’t even live in the same country. Do you expect me to be at your every beck and call? Do you know how exhausting that would be?”

Those cheap band aids start to peel off one by one. The scars you thought you covered so well, start to sting and burn.

Your voice is thick, full of tears and pain. You know you shouldn’t but you want him to experience even a fraction of what he’s put you through.

“Is that why you don’t try anymore? Is a little distance too hard for fragile Iwaizumi Hajime? The same Iwaizumi who begged me not to break this off? The same one who promised me he would try to make this work.”

You continue patronizing him, fake pity exuding from every word.

“Oh, you poor thing. It must be so hard for you to actually care for your girlfriend. It’s almost like I’m not the one putting in all the effort anyways, like I’m not the one doing all the work. While you get to run away and escape from everything. But I shouldn't be surprised, that is your special talent after all. Running away from every single feeling because they make you feel weak, make you feel less than. Is that why you ran from Japan to California because you aren’t good enough for anything here, right?”

You know that was a sore spot for him, but you didn’t care. You were tired of being an afterthought, tired of being the one flavor of candy no one picks.

“You didn’t have to say that. You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Iwaizumi is trying his best to keep his voice stable but those words leaving your mouth were enough to cause a lump to form in his throat.

“Well believe it and go to hell while you’re at it.”

You end the call right away, denying him the chance of rebuttal. You sniffle, wiping furiously at your eyes before burying your face into your pillow, wetting it with your tears.

Click.

A sound that Iwaizumi never thought twice about, but now it starts to haunt him. With every passing second all he can hear is your words, the pain behind them, and that godforsaken click. It echoes in his brain the same way the tick of the clock echoes in yours.

The dark-haired boy reaches for his water, downing it all in one go. He was trying to get rid of the lump that has found home in his throat, but no matter how many times he swallows it never seems to leave. It sits there, heavy and hurting like the words exchanged between the two of you.

If anyone else had listened to that call, Hajime is sure they would never believe him when he tells them, he never meant for it to go that way. He never meant to speak to you like that or make you feel like that, like you didn’t matter to him.

Because that couldn’t be further from the truth. You mean the entire world to him. Even the world was too small a scale.

Iwaizumi wants to take the stars from the sky and dump them in your hands, because in his eyes the sky had stolen them from you. And to him that was a crime worthy of the worst punishment. Why would someone steal from you? Why would the sky take away the stars from their rightful owner?

And it shouldn’t be an excuse but the fact you meant that much to him, maybe that’s what caused the change in his behavior. He couldn’t quite grasp the true weight of his own emotions and with that came overthinking - overthinking that led to insecurity.

The kind that takes bits of one’s psyche and crumbles it into ash.

Hajime can’t pinpoint when he started feeling that way but he remembers how it consumed him whole. How it was all he ever thought about, how it crept into his mind as he slept - infecting his dreams.

His mind would race with thoughts of you, of your relationship. He thought about what you were doing, what you were eating, and how you felt about him even though he was physically absent. Those thoughts turned into questions, terrifying ones.

Why does missing you feel like blades to the chest?

Why do you make him feel so good? And why does he always second guess it?

What if you saw him the way he saw himself?

What happens when you realize that your love was better given elsewhere?

Then followed the doubt, which clouded his mind and he began to think that you would find someone better than him, someone who actually deserves to be loved by a heart as big and as precious as yours.

And Hajime knows he struggles with vulnerability, with the ability to allow people see him past the image he projects and yet with you that all he ever wants to do, be vulnerable. He wants you to press your ear to his chest and listen to the erratic beating of a heart that belongs to you. Iwa feels safe in your presence even with the 5,471 miles between the two of you. Safe enough to drop whatever guard he has built up over the years and that alone terrified him.

So he doesn’t tell you about all the things that swim in his brain. Due to the terror but also despite all that, he still always wants to be your big strong boyfriend, the one you can depend one. But how could he do that when he was falling apart on the inside? What if you start to see him as weak, the same way he did every time he looked in that foggy mirror after every shower.

He decided weeks ago that he would fix it on his own, that way he could come back to you stronger, healthier, and more sound of mind. A person that understands his emotions and knows how to deal with them. So he starts hanging out with his friends more, asking them for advice, and surrounding himself with people that could help him. And if Iwa had told you that’s what he was doing, you would’ve encouraged him wholeheartedly. He knows you would but for some reason he didn’t and his plan didn’t include neglecting you, but he still did. Whether it be intentional or accidental, he still did.

And now this was something new he had to fix. Hajime has to fix it soon because the heartbreak that leaked from your words wounded him in a way he couldn’t describe, but if he were to lose you? No language in the world can detail the pain that would come from his heart being torn apart piece by piece.

The boy can only pray that there is a way to resolve everything. Because this has given one very sneaky god the opportunity to weed his way into your minds and plant a seed into the loving soil of your relationship. The sprout had started to grow when your hearts ached for each other and now it may bloom into something ugly and twisted. All you can do now is wonder if your love will survive the poisonous flower.

“That’s what happened. And I woke up this morning to zero texts or calls from him, it’s like he doesn’t even care to fucking apologize.”

“Did you call or text him?” Kunimi soon realizes that was the wrong question to ask after he hears your very heavy sigh.

“Why are you asking me stupid questions? ……Why would I do anything when I’m always doing it? That’s the whole reason we argued, Ki. Why do I have to spend my Christmas Eve chasing after him? Hmmm?” You shift on the couch and angle the phone so he could properly see the expression you wore.

“I was just saying. Maybe he’s waiting for you to reach out to him because he wants to make sure you are ready to talk.” Your best friend explains. And honestly? You wish he would stop talking. It’s always excuses-excuses with men.

“You’re no help at all, like none. I hope you know that.” You inform him, growing sick of this conversation.

“I’m trying! You know this isn’t really my thing.” He mutters out and you can tell it's apologetic.

“Thanks for trying or whatever.”

There’s a few beats of silence that settle over the call and you use it to collect your thoughts, or at least attempt to.

“You okay?” Kunimi asks quite sincerely.

“Not really.” You answer back just as sincerely.

“Can I come over?”

“No. Go spend your Christmas Eve with your girlfriend. One of us has to have a good day at least.”

“You can come with us, she won’t mind. It’s sad being all alone like that.”

“Thank you for reminding me, Ki. And I’m not third wheeling my best friend and my cousin. I’m not a baby, I’ll be fine by myself for one day.”

“You sure?” The brown-haired boy questions, worry weighing down his features.

“Yes, father. Tell Amina I said hi and that she owes me $15.” You crack a small smile, hoping it convinces him.

“It’s Christmas Eve.”

“And I’m not in the spirit, so goodbye.” You wave him off, quickly ending the call after you hear his farewell.

You lied.

You are a little bit of a baby. You felt lonely and hurt, and it’s not shameful to admit that at this very moment you want to crawl into someone’s arms and bawl your eyes out. But that wasn’t an option, so instead you stare up at the ceiling once again and let the tears fall without someone there to catch them.

Another 20 minutes of crying pass before a text lights up your phone and a small chuckle falls from our lips. There’s a long text from your cousin cursing your boyfriend out with such creativity, you can only wonder how she comes up with such insults.

As you exit the text conversation, your finger hover over Hajime’s contact and Kunimi’s words start to replay in your head. If he was really waiting for you to contact him first then that means he didn’t actually listen to you, that he still hasn’t learned anything, and that would take the both of you right back to square one.

Iwaizumi has to be the one to extend the olive branch first, he has to prove that he wants this relationship to work as much as you do. Or this might be the end.

Through all the tears and emotional turmoil, you suddenly remember the food you ordered earlier. You check the time, it's been almost an hour since you ordered and you see a message about a delay due to the sudden snow. Absolutely nothing is going right for you today and you wish the holidays would just pass by quickly because it’s only adding on to your sadness.

You flip over on the couch, burying your face into the cushions in hopes that sleep would overtake you and you could forgot about the present world for a couple hours. Your eyes have only been shut for 5 minutes before your doorbell rings and you ignore it at first, not wanting to hear your neighborhood’s choir rendition of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas”. But then it rings again and this time you pull yourself off the couch, expecting the delivery man to be holding your bag of long awaited food.

Opening the door with one hand and grabbing a couple bills for a tip with the other, you start thanking the person and apologizing for making them brave the freezing temperatures. However, your words don’t even touch the chilly air because there was no delivery man and definitely no food.

No, there was only your boyfriend standing at your doorstep with his suitcases and a very guilty smile.

And you?

You slam the door close out of shock or out of anger, you’re still deciding which one. You look out the peephole and watch your boyfriend fidget nervously. His nose is pink and he blows into his hand to keep them warm. A part of you wants to leave him out here and let the cold be his punishment. Maybe then he could finally understand how he made you feel.

But for some other reason, you’re opening the door and letting him into your warm apartment. You don’t even greet him, you lock the door behind him and walk towards the kitchen. And for once Iwaizumi recognizes your cues and doesn’t follow after you.

You return about 6 minutes later with two mugs in your hand, a hot chocolate for yourself and a tea for the man roaming about your living room.

“Thank you.” He flashes you a grateful look and sips the tea, letting it heat up his body.

You place your cup down and cross your arms over your chest. Your face is emotionless and your eyes tell him absolutely nothing.

“What are you doing here?”

Hajime flinches at your stern tone. You weren’t happy for obvious reasons and he can’t blame you.

“Surprise?” Iwa mumbles out, the tips of his ears shifting from pink to red out of embarrassment.

You threw him an unimpressed look, the answer was obvious. He was here to apologize but if he thought that showing up to your house uninvited was the miraculous cure, Hajime had a long way to go to earn your forgiveness.

“Don’t play with me right now. You never mentioned coming back to Japan for Christmas.”

The dark-haired boy shifts his weight from one foot to another. The intensity of your stare as you wait for his response causes the guilt to burn through every nerve, singeing off the ends and leaving him in a fit of fiery emotional pain. Hajime doesn’t know how to start. Should he start with an explanation, or an apology, or a plea for forgiveness?

You let out a frustrated sigh. Of course, you are met with silence.

“We aren’t doing this again. So you can leave, I’m sure your parents would be much happier to see you.”

“No!” It’s a loud objection, maybe even a little too loud. Iwaizumi clears his throat, trying to correct himself. “I mean, I need to stay. I have something to say.”

You tilt your head to the side in slight interest. Iwaizumi rarely raises his voice in your presence and for him to do it now means that he was serious. And that’s exactly what you want him to be. You want him to take part in the relationship, to do the only thing you’ve ever asked.

You want him to love you in the way you know he can.

“Say what you want to say and then I’ll decide if you can stay.” You declare.

Hajime finally meets your gaze, this is his only chance to fix the mess he created all over your heart.

“I thought of a million things I could say to you, you know better than anyone I’m not good with words so I practiced my apology but it didn’t feel right. So what I want to say first is, I’m sorry. Extremely sorry for everything I did and I don’t only mean the phone call because this goes beyond that. I’m sorry for making you feel like you weren’t the first and last thought on my mind, for not treating you the way you deserve. I love you more than I can verbally express and the thought of losing you was-is destroying me inside. And honestly I could stand here and list all the reasons why everything went wrong but I know how much you hate excuses and beating around the bush. But, there is something I want to tell you about my behavior, about why I acted the way I did.”

Iwa pauses, feeling nervous. Expressing himself in such detail causes panic to settle in, his insecurities start to bubbling up to the surface. Yet, he continues on, he doesn’t need his worries to cause another disaster or deprive you of the apology you deserve.

“I’ve always wanted to be the type of boyfriend that you can depend on, that is strong enough to lift every obstacle in your way. Especially when you look at me like I can solve every problem even if it’s beyond my abilities, it's just such a sweet look and it makes my heart stop every single time. And one day I started to doubt why you look at me like that when I can’t even breathe without questioning myself. Why do I deserve to be loved by someone with such a pretty heart? And even if I felt all that, I didn’t want you to ever stop looking at me so sweetly. So, I tried so hard to be better for you, for me, for us, that I failed to see what I was doing to you until it was too late.”

Your gaze starts to soften as you look at him. Hajime didn’t have to be strong all the time for your sake, you love all parts of him. That love is what opened the door for him and let him in. That same love is what listening to him right now and wants to hear everything he has to say.

Your boyfriend starts rubbing the back of his neck. A very common habit of his.

He’s apologizing, you think to yourself.

As he continues his speech, the pain from the soul scars start to disappear. They no longer sting or burn. They start to heal and you wonder if the cure is someone else's treatment.

“And instead of listening to you, I insulted you. I can’t even repeat what I said because I don’t want you to ever hear those words from me again and I wish I never said them. I wish I could change the past but I can't. All I can do now is take responsibility and work for your forgiveness. So please let me. Let me be a better boyfriend, I wanna make up for everything I did. I want to show you that I love you more than anything. I want to show you that I’m sorry and I’ll apologize to you every day if that’s what it takes. If you asked me to get on my knees I would, If you told me to steal the sun I would. And I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

Silence follows the heartfelt apology and as you take it all in, the words start to slip out of your mouth.

“You can stay.” You tell him.

Iwaizumi walks towards you, stopping once he’s close enough for you to hear his heartbeat. His arms around you in the next second, pulling you in for a hug. There’s slight hesitation in his grip like he’s afraid you’ll leave. But when your own arms circle around his waist and clutch onto the back of his shirt, he realizes you weren’t going anywhere.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, Zumi. I love you because you’re you and that means I love every single version of you.” You mumble into his chest.

“I know. I was scared and sometimes I still am. Next time, I’ll talk to you about it.” He responds, hugging you tighter. “There are three more things I wanna tell you.”

You loosen your grip and lean your head back to look at him. Iwaizumi can practically see the question marks in your eyes and he has to resist the urge to kiss away the cute confusion.

“I didn’t only come here to apologize. I already planned to surprise you for Christmas. Also, the girl you kept seeing me with was helping me. We get free counseling at UC but it’s hard explaining myself in English. So, since she’s a psychology student that also speaks Japanese, she was helping translate.” Hajime admits, an apologetic smile on his lips.

You shut your eyes in guilt as you respond. You weren’t exactly saying the nicest things about the two of them when you were upset.

“You had me cussing you and that girl out in my mind every day. Oh my god, now I feel horrible. Why didn’t you just tell me, Haji?!”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry” He apologizes once again. “And last thing.”

Iwa pulls out of the hug, opting to hold on to your left hand instead. He lifts your arm up, twirling you around.

“What are you doing?” You say between quiet giggles.

His voice when he speaks this time is soft and sweet, everything you want it to be.

“Admiring my very pretty girlfriend and her hair that I’m obsessed with. You look so good, baby.”

Hajime keeps twirling you around, showering you with all types of compliments until you��re dizzy from his words and the constant movement. At the same time, he uses his free hand to pull something out of his pocket before pulling you in close.

“I can’t even see straight right now. Everything is still spinning.” You tighten your grip on his hand to stabilize yourself. Even in the blurry haze, your eyes still land on your boyfriend’s flushed face. He lets go of your hand and covers your eyes with his palm.

“Well, now I can’t see at all.” You point out.

“I’m gonna take my hand off now but you have to keep your eyes closed.” Iwa instructs, slowly removing his hand.

“Okay… Wait. Is this a part of the apology? Are you trying to buy my forgiveness?”

“Just keep your eyes closed.” It’s a soft demand and you nod your head in understanding. You’ll entertain him for the time being.

And due to your lack of vision, your hearing is now heightened and you hear every little nervous exhale Iwaizumi lets out. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when cold metal brushes across your hand and onto your finger.

“You can open them now.”

Your eyes snap open and immediately you direct your line of sight downward. Your previously bare digit is now housing a new gold ring.

A very expensive gold Cartier ring. One with a pink diamond sitting in the middle.

You gasp in awe, eyes glued to the glittering jewelry. The gift giver scans your face, trying to gauge your reaction. He’s been planning this for the last 7 months and even if it didn’t go exactly to plan, he wants to at least please you.

“It’s a promise ring.” Iwaizumi uses his left hand to hold yours and that’s when you see it. On his ring finger sits the matching band. Tears begin to collect in your bottom lashes and his hands move up to your face, cradling your cheeks.

“Don’t cry, babe. I cost you enough tears, okay?” His thumbs swipe away the tears as they fall and you nod a frantic yes to let him know you’re listening. “It’s a promise that I will love you the way you deserve to be loved and prove I can be better until I can replace that ring and make you a new promise.”

“I’m trying not to cry but this is the sweetest and most expensive thing anyone has ever done for me. How did you afford this?” Even as you speak, tears still slide down your face and he still wipes away every single one.

“Don’t worry about that.” He dismisses your question. The cost was covered by extra shifts and side jobs. And a refund check. “Do you like it?” Hajime redirects the conversation, he knows you won’t stop asking unless you’re distracted by a new topic.

“I love it, I love it so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Your boyfriend reaches into his pocket for something else as you continue admiring your beautiful ring.

“You know I’ve always wanted to be a Cartier girl.” You tell him.

“I know, and haven’t you always wanted to do this too?” He uses the hand still on your face to tilt it upwards.

Mistletoe.

Iwaizumi is dangling a Mistletoe plant over the two of you.

A grin brighter than every single Christmas light settles on your face. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your face closer to his.

“Merry Christmas Eve.” He whispers.

“You’re really sneaky, you know that?” You whisper back. In response, Hajime only smiles before gently pressing his lips onto yours. He kisses you with such tenderness and care, that you melt into his embrace. He wants you to know you mean everything to him, that you’re his everything.

And now, you know it all. You know how he adores you, how he treasures you. So, you return it with your own message, one that speaks of your budding forgiveness and longing.

All of Iwaizumi’s attention is on the feeling of your soft lips on his, making him drop the mistletoe. When it hits you, you flinch at the sudden sensation.

“Sorry.” The dark-haired boy mumbles into the kiss.

“It’s okay.” You reassure him and your small laugh gets lost in between your lips.

“I love you. I love you so much.” He repeats over and over until you can feel the vibration of his vocal cords all over your body.

“I love you too.”

taglist for all my works are still open so <3 tag me

a/n: hiii, sorry for like ghosting yall… i had so much shit going on (switching majors, health, etc) but since it’s summer imma try posting more consistently and i have a lot fics in the planning stages so look out for those 😋,, hopefully u enjoyed the very overdue 1st installment of the luvrs club

taglist: @theehottiehwa @santoteez @thathoneybee3 @satorose @shotarobabymomma

#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x black reader #iwaizumi x black reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi fanfic #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi fluff #the luvrs club #saturn’s masterlist #mik0rin’s masterlist #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x black y/n

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zoe-oneesama · 4 years ago

Note

I'm interested in the Lila exposed au about your akumasona. What's that?

For those who don’t know my OC (self insert) akumasona Zoe Rapporte (The Enchanted Florist), but her family owns a flower shop that is pretty successful - think “This florist does the arrangements at the Grand Paris and for High Profile Events” - so she’s mildly acquainted with Adrien from some of those events. Maybe not friends, but like when you frequent a coffee shop so much that you learn all the staff’s name and they all remember you.

So Lila is not above dropping lots of money to sell her lies (hello Gabriel Collection Fox Necklace) and one of her lies to her mother is that Adrien is her boyfriend. And what boyfriend doesn’t send his lovely girlfriend flowers, especially one as well off as Adrien Agreste? And really, as long as his name is on the card when her mother accepts them at the door, that’s all that matters, right?

So Zoe takes note that once a week this prissy girl with a bizarre hairstyle comes in to place a rather pricey bouquet order under Adrien’s name and has it delivered to the same address that’s on the credit card bill - doesn’t take a genius to figure out this delusional weirdo is pretending a celebrity is sending her flowers weekly. It’s a little strange because Zoe could’ve sworn she saw on TV that this chick had done photo shoots with Adrien before and based on his Instagram she was his classmate, so it’s kinda concerning that she’s going this far to burrow her way into his life. Still, she’s dropping quite a bit of coin and it’s really none of Zoe’s business, yeah?

But then imagine there’s a class event - maybe a dance, maybe a teacher’s appreciation week, maybe an alumni reunion - that needs our favorite class representative and her deputy to order a large amount of flowers. And Adrien, ever desperate to do his part, takes it upon himself to help with the budget. And maybe Nino decides to come for no particular reason lol.

So the four walk into the Rapporte Flower Shop and Adrien is so excited to introduce his friends to one of the familiar faces from his VIP world. And he’s just so exuberant as he brags about his friends and is so wholesome and different from the put together boy Zoe would briefly meet at those stuffy events that this surge of sisterly affection makes her completely forget her usual “none of my business” attitude. She’s got to let him know what it going on behind his back, especially if there’s a chance that he has no idea what kind of girl “Mlle. Rossi at the fifth story walk up” was.

And who knows? Maybe this was a misunderstanding, a weird arrangement Adrien had with his secret girlfriend to make sure she gets exactly the type of bouquet she wants? Zoe recons she’s had stranger requests. Welp, no better way to clear the air than to just ask.

“Hey Adrien, you know there’s this weird girl that comes in once a week and has flowers delivered to herself under your name?”

Adrien paused in his rant about Nino’s music mixing skills (having already left Alya puffing her chest in pride and Marinette a red puddle of embarrassed goo) to stare blankly at Zoe. “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh yeah.” Zoe leaned into her palm, looking way too relaxed considering what she’d just dropped on him. “For, like, the two months at least. Always has us address her card ‘Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder, Ma Belle, from Your Loving Boyfriend Adrien Agreste’.”

“What the heck?!” Alya exclaimed from beside Nino who’s jaw was dropped in disbelief. “That’s crazy messed up. Adrien doesn’t even have a girlfriend, what does this psycho think she’s doing?!”

“Right? I don’t know who she thinks she fooling. What kind of boyfriend needs to sign his full name?”

“It is pretty weird.” Adrien said, rubbing his neck in discomfort. “But it’s not the strangest thing a fan has done. It’s not that big a deal, right?”

“Dude.” Nino started, staring at his best friend in mild horror. “Just because you don’t know this girl doesn’t make it ‘no big deal’.”

“Oh no.” Zoe pipes up again. “He knows her.”

“What?!” All of Adrien’s friend’s exclaimed. Even Adrien looked a bit shook by her admission.

Alya zipped over to the counter, leaning dangerously close to Zoe’s remarkably unfazed face. “What do you mean ‘he knows her’?! How do you know that?! This sounds like a creepy fangirl but you’re telling me she’s actually in Adrien’s life?!”

“I should say so. I mean, it was even on TV that she was modeling with Adrien and she’s made a few appearances on his instagram.” Zoe brought out her phone, casually thumbing open Instagram. “I would’ve just ignored it, but if she’s going around pretending she’s dating Adrien then he has the right to know.”

“Modeling with....and you said on his instagram...?”

“Are...” Marinette piped up, voice dripping with trepidation. “Are you talking about Lila?”

“Marinette,” Alya gave her friend a withering look. “Just because you don’t like her doesn’t mean you can just accuse her of-”

Zoe cut her off, flashing her phone screen at the group to present a photo, having found the image she was looking for: a brunette with a straight fringe and her forelocks in twin tails leaning possessively over an uncomfortably smiling Adrien.

“Yes, Mlle. Rossi! I’d recognize that crazy hairstyle anywhere.” She turned the phone back to look at it herself. “Pft, Adrien, what’s with this caption? ‘Lila insisted I take post this picture?’ Yikes, man, learn to say no.”

Alya waved her hands in front of her, eyes scrunched closed in disbelief. “Hold up, hold up, hold up. You have GOT to be getting this twisted. Lila wouldn’t do something that like this, that’s just...wrong!”

“I mean, this is definitely the girl I was talking about.” Zoe said slowly, raising one eyebrow at Alya’s response. “And Rossi is the name on the bill. What exactly am I ‘getting twisted?’“

“Because!..Because Lila just wouldn’t!”

“Yeah!” Nino shouted from behind her, shaking himself out of the stupor this whole situation left him in. “She said she wasn’t into Adrien like that!”

Zoe snorted. “And you believed her?”

“W-well yeah, why would she lie about that...?”

“You guys are so cute. And definitely need to watch more True Crime shows.”

“What-?”

“Sorry Adrien.” Zoe lofted over Alya’s shoulder, cutting off another defensive quip. “I know she was your friend. I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“Ah, no, she’s not really- I mean, I’m not that surprised to be honest.” Adrien offered weakly.

“It sounds right up her alley.” Marinette growled, fingers digging into her crossed arms.

“What...” Nino and Alya turned to their friends, confused and anxious. “What are you talking about? This..this is Lila we’re talking about!”

“The same Lila who got Marinette expelled?” Adrien stated, face grim and tired.

“That was rescinded, it wasn’t her fault-”

“The same Lila who sent everyone in Adrien’s contact list picture of her kissing Adrien?” Marinette ground out, aggravated.

“I mean, that was weird, but I’m sure she didn’t mean-”

“The same Lila who got my bodyguard and Natalie in trouble with my dad?”

“Or maybe the same Lila who stole Adrien’s dad’s book and threw it in the trash?”

“She did WHAT-?!”

“I-I fished it out for you!”

“Wait is that how you knew about Lila-”

“Wow.” Zoe whistled, again cutting the group off. “What a class act. Sounds like a great friend you got there, Adrien.”

“Oh trust me.” Adrien growled, eyes never leaving Marinette who steadfastedly refused to look at him. “After this we’re NOT friends.”

Alya held her head with one hand, staring at the ground. “Wait, wait, this...this can’t be right, Lila isn’t...she wouldn’t do this, she wouldn’t, she’s...cool! And nice! And-! She just can’t!”

Zoe cocked her head toward’s Alya, leveling her with a patient stare. “Well, then what is she doing?” Alya looked up blankly at her, prompting her further. “The truth of the matter is that Lila Rossi comes in once a week, and has been for at least two months, buying flowers to be delivered to her own address (which I know because it matches up to the address on the card with her last name on it), but dictates that the card say it was sent by Adrien. If she’s not faking that Adrien is sending her flowers, what is she doing?”

“I...I don’t...” Alya floundered. They were just supposed to order some flowers, how did the day turn like this?!

“You’re an investigative reporter, right? What’s that old Sherlock Holmes saying? ‘Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth’?”

Alya leaned into Nino, staring out at the shop, searching for something to make some sense. She thought Lila was nice, was her friend, was everyone’s friend! But this stunt with Adrien...what does it even mean...?

Everyone looked towards the employee door as footsteps could be heard approaching. A moment later Tama, Zoe’s younger sister, stepped into the shop, pausing at the door when she realized five pairs of eyes were staring at her. She looked over the customers, taking in Marinette’s slight glower, Adrien’s tight jaw, and Nino and Alya’s devastated posture.

“Soooo, are you here to buy some bouquets?”

#lol I didn't know how to finish this off though #I always imagined it as a 'wake up call' fic rather than a 'and then everyone told lila how awful she is'#could use some refinement #lila salt #zoe rapporte #my oc #my fic #ml salt fic #akumasona #miracusona #a-bitchtm

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brattyfics · 4 years ago

Text

Like That

Pairing: Rio x Black!Reader

Summary: You and Rio get to know each other better. Loosely based on ‘Like That’ by Doja Cat.

Warnings: Smut.

Word Count: 3.5K

Installments: Say So | Like That | Talk Dirty

And baby, I want it, and I'll just be honest 'Cause I just can't front when I look at you

About six weeks have passed since Rio declared himself your man, and you quickly learned he took the title very seriously.

He was busier than usual with ‘flipping his game,’ and you were busy preparing to transition your shop, but you saw each other often despite time constraints. You agreed date nights at least once a week were a must, but when you couldn’t see each other, Rio made sure to end nights with a phone call. Virtually falling asleep next to him gave you butterflies, reminding you just how exciting new relationships could be. It took prodding, but he told you made-up bedtime stories and the boring details of his day. In return, you shared things about yourself— childhood memories, the crazy things your mom did to embarrass you. He was sweet and attentive, and you found it refreshing to be with someone who was just as infatuated with you.

On your second date, he took you to his favorite restaurant, a fancy sushi place with expensive rolls. He taught you to hold chopsticks the wrong way the way he did and even fed you across the small table, a couple of unfortunate rolls falling apart due to his prodding. You tried your best to hide your amusement at the pensive look on his face. For whatever reason, Rio thought of himself as a sushi connoisseur, but it was clear to you that he was still learning.

“You’re no better than me!” He admonished when he noticed the way you held your chopsticks. Like his technique, it was incorrect, but it worked for you— sort of. “I never said I was.” You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face any longer. “You’re the one who comes here weekly. I thought you were a professional, and we’re in the same boat.” He folded his arms on top of the table as he insisted you were wrong, but secretly he found your teasing endearing. Later that night, he called and gave you a cheesy line about loving to see you smile.

The following week, you had lunch at a mom-and-pop soul food restaurant that served the best cornbread and peach cobbler in the city. The owners, an adorable older couple, Donna and Gene, and servers alike stopped by your table to meet Rio. Donna gushed over Rio, showering him with compliments and extra cornbread. “Girl, he is cute!” She told you, failing miserably at whispering. He smirked as you rolled your eyes, but he handled the attention well, being friendly and personable even when Gene kept going on and on about changes to the menu, one chef to another.

A few days later, he called you up randomly and asked you to get ready and ride with him somewhere. “What should I wear?” You asked, hoping for a hint. You could hear him smile as he said, “It doesn’t even matter, ma. You always look good.” The occasion had turned out to be ‘Foodtruck Friday.’ Barbecue, kebab, taco, ice cream, and other miscellaneous food trucks were parked in a spacious lot in Downtown Detroit. You settled at a picnic table and shared several plates of food as you discussed the possibility of your own mobile ‘Mad Batter’ shop somewhere down the line. It got you thinking about the future.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” You asked the dreaded question in between bites of a colorful Korean fusion taco. He stiffened as he considered the answer. “What is this, a job interview?” Sometimes you saw peeks of bossman Rio rather than the Christopher Castillo you were getting to know. It happened seemingly out of nowhere when you asked questions he felt were invasive.

You looked up from the panko-fried shrimp, red cabbage, shredded carrots, and tasty orange sauce wrapped up in a flour tortilla with a frown. You had two choices: respond in the way he had or make light of the situation. So, you said, “Kinda. You’re auditioning for a spot on my roster, so...”

He stopped chewing the half-eaten dumpling and swallowed hard. “That’s not funny.”

“You better start taking the interviewing part of the audition more seriously then.” You wiped your fingers on a napkin, and he gathered your hand in his own, wearing a look you couldn’t decipher. “You got it, ma.”

You played a game of mini-golf at the local arcade. Rio stood tall behind you, holding you by your hips as he corrected your stance. You purposefully arched your back, brushing against him just slightly. “Like this?” You looked over your shoulder with the most innocent look you could muster, but his eyes were glued to your ass. “Yeah, just like that.” He answered in a low tone without looking up. You giggled as you took your swing, adding a wiggle for his benefit. You pretended to care about the ball as it glided across the bright green tarp towards the hole. “How was that?” You chirped, looking down the lane.

“I can’t even lie. I don’t care about the game right now. I just wanna watch you.” Your aim was terrible, and the ball never went in the hole without several attempts, but he insisted you finish playing the course. You teased him about it for days after despite his claim that he actually enjoyed the game because it was one of Marcus’ favorites.

“Stop lying! You just wanted an excuse to openly watch my ass.”

“Why you always gotta call me out?”

You shopped a cozy health and wellness store with hundreds of cool little trinkets for sale. Neither of you had been there before, so you took your time exploring, stealing unexpected kisses from the other. Rio took full advantage of the size of the store, pulling you by the hand and holding you close to his side.

He frowned at the large collection of shiny crystals. “A rock, really? What does anybody need with a rock?”

“It’s not a rock!” You hissed, head whipping around as you hoped the owner didn’t hear him.

“What is it then? It looks like a rock to me.” He picked one up, turning it over in his hands.

“It’s a crystal!”

“What’s the difference?”

“It has healing properties...” Rio snorted but strung his arm across your shoulder and listened intently as you read the info cards to him. When it was all said and done, he bought an aventurine stone to apologize to the owner for prosperity, well-being, and good luck.

The next day, he disappeared with no warning. You had been worried sick until Mick let you know he was busy handling something. It would have only taken a minute to tell you that, so you were (understandably) pissed. He showed up at the shop several days later like nothing had ever happened. “What’s up, mama?” The greeting that usually melted you grated on your nerves. All of your feelings about the situation bubbled up to the surface. It was hard to find the right words— you were still getting to know each other, so how mad could you be? At the same time, how little did he think of you to not say anything? Finally, you settled on, “I can’t do the disappearing act.”

Rio wasn’t used to answering to anyone, not even his child’s mother, about his whereabouts, but he put his palms up in surrender when he saw the serious expression you wore.

“You’re right, mama. That’s my bad. It won’t happen again.”

And it hadn’t.

But knowing ahead of time only made it a tiny bit easier, especially when he didn’t have a set return date. You were going on day seven (the longest you had gone without seeing him since you started dating) when he called to say he made it home and wanted to see you. Your heavy heart swelled with relief. You missed him way more than you probably should have, so you insisted on a night in at your place, wanting him to feel relaxed and at home instead of on guard somewhere public.

It had been a long six weeks without sex while he romanced you with delicious food and beautiful words. It wasn’t an easy task, but you knew as soon as sex was thrown in the mix, you would be done for, either destined to be his or ruined by him. It was a scary thought, but distance had indeed made the heart grow fonder, and you cared about him enough to take a chance.

He was set to arrive within the hour, but you were still unsure of what to wear, frantically rummaging through the dresser for something cute and comfortable. You let out a frustrated groan when your phone started to ring, thinking Rio might have come early, but when you look down at your phone, you see your best friend’s name and face. You swipe quickly, accepting the FaceTime call. “Hey, girl!”

“Hey, stranger!” You pick up the phone, so you can look at her. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” She replies with just as much sass. “I haven’t talked to you in what— two weeks?”

“We talk—“

“—text.”

“Okay, fine. Text. We text every day. What are you talking about?”

“That’s not the same.” She insists even as you remind her of the ridiculous amount of time you spend trading memes and food pictures with her.

“Anyway, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to decide what I’m going to wear between this, this, or this.” You move the camera around, showing her the different options. A black-and-white tank and short set with ‘Being cute is not a crime’ in a cute font. A fuzzy grey sweatsuit set with hearts, or a simple cream hoodie with matching shorts.

“Um, what’s the occasion?” You giggle at the look on her face, knowing she thinks none of the above are appropriate for wearing outside of the house.

“Movie night in.”

“You need help picking an outfit for movie night with yourself?” Her face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait, is it movie night with yourself?” You try to be casual about it, shrugging your shoulders in response. As usual, she sees through your bullshit and goes straight into an interrogation. “Oh, bitch. You been holding out on me!” She asks you five questions in a row without stopping to breathe before settling on one. “Who?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. “...Rio.”

“Rio?” She frowns. “Like the guy we work for, Rio? With the eyebrows and the neck tattoo, Rio?”

“Yes, that Rio.”

“Wow.” You wince but decide it’s best to get it over with. “What? I know you, so I know there’s more where that came from.”

“I don’t know what to say! From what I can tell, he’s a decent dude, I guess, but you know what he does. You definitely know what we do for him! You don’t think that could be a problem?”

“It’s messy, for sure, and I can admit that, but I’ve been thinking about getting out anyway...” She nods. “Then, I guess there’s nothing else for me to say about that. You’re both grown, and you know what you’re doing.” She was your best friend, which meant she’d always give her honest opinion, but wouldn’t berate you about your choices. Just like that, you return to your regular discussion topics, everything from warehouse gossip (yes, even in the business of crime, there’s a rumor mill) to new music releases. Before you knew it, forty minutes had passed, and Rio was calling your phone. You promised to call her more often before hanging up.

You sing your ‘hello’ into the phone, hoping Rio can’t detect the shakiness in your voice as you clumsily pull on your bottoms.

“Hey, mama. You about ready? I know you’re sensitive about your space and all that.” He was referring to the fact that he had never been past the doorway of your home. Your home was your sacred place, so you were extra careful about who came in and what energy they brought. It was always nerve-wracking to let somebody into the space that you cherished so much.

“Yeah.” He picks up on the hesitancy in your voice. “Are you sure?” You nod your head as if he can see you before telling him yes with a giggle. “Alright, well, I’m outside. Can I come in?” You bite your lip, butterflies fluttering in your tummy. “Yeah, I’ll come unlock the door.” He whispers his thanks, and you take a moment to force yourself to relax. When you meet him at the door, you do so with an open mind and heart, taking in his appearance with a goofy grin on your face. As usual, he’s dressed in all black, wearing a well-fitted t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s casual but still so high quality and attractive.

“Hi.” You breathe out like a dork when you realize you’re staring. It helps that he seems just as mesmerized, stepping forward to envelop you in a tight, warm hug. He sways you from side to side before pulling back, his hands resting heavily on the top of your ass. He settles for a quick peck on the lips because he has something to say. “You’re as pretty as ever, darlin’.” He says earnestly, shaking his head as he steps back to look you over once more.

“Kiss me again.” His hands cup your ass as you devour each other in the open doorway. You forget your surroundings. “Damn, ma. Can I at least get inside before you jump my bones? I don’t mind giving your neighbors a show if that’s your thing, but…” You turn to hide your embarrassment, leaving him to close the door behind you as you gesture around the room as if you’re in an episode of MTV Cribs. “... here’s the living room. The kitchen’s through the arch. The bathroom’s over there...” He follows you with his red as you point.

“And the bedroom?”

You snort. “The tour stops here for now. Sit down.” Your tone leaves no room for argument. He settles into the soft couch while you grab the snack tray from the kitchen. Homemade popcorn, chocolate-covered pretzels, and dried fruit gummies are on the menu.

“All this for me?” His arms snake around your waist so that you can curl up into his side. “What we watching?” You grab the remote. “I saw a trailer this week that caught my attention. I’ll play it for you.” He didn’t care what you watched as long as he got to be close to you, so it didn’t take long for you to get the movie started. He stole glances at you when his knuckles brushed against your bare knees under the blanket. You’re embarrassed at how wet the small action makes you, so you stretch out across the couch and place your bare feet in his lap, silently planning your revenge. The movie may as well not be playing because you couldn’t be less interested in the plot as you lightly stroke him through his sweatpants with the balls of your feet.

“Ma...” He warns, watching you in the low lighting. He’s come to learn you like to tease, but he doesn’t think he can take it, not tonight. “Hmm?” You hum innocently, loving the strained look on your face. He doesn’t move even as you sit up on your haunches and kiss him. It’s slow and long in the best way. He pulls you to sit in his lap. His hands roam your body as you grind down onto him, relishing in the feeling of the soft skin on your tummy. He sighs into your mouth as one hand finds your bare breasts.

He pulls away to talk shit. “No bra? You just knew I was gonna put out, huh?” He pushes the cotton material up so he can see you properly. “Perfect.” He murmurs into your skin. You let him kiss and lick and suck on your nipples until the pressure you feel below is too much to handle. You’re a quivering mess when he finally helps you pull the cotton material up and over your head. It lands on top of the television behind you, but neither of you notice.

You nudge him until he removes his own shirt, and then he lifts his hips to help you when you begin tugging on his sweats. They puddle at his feet while you spread your legs wide, desperate to get your hands on him. “I could cry right now.” You admit honestly when you finally see him, biting your lip. He arches a brow. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing, darlin’?” His hips jerk when you take him into your hands, the cold temperature surprising him.

“It’s definitely a good thing.” You whisper excitedly, staring with wonder as he hardens in your hands. He barks out a laugh, stunned by your ability to make him laugh, even with his dick in your hands. “That’s really nice, ma. I feel real special.” Your eyes meet, and silent promises of all the filthy things you’re going to do to each other are exchanged. “You should. I’m about to change your life.” He throbs in your hands, loving that you find small ways to challenge him.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.” He wraps his arms around you in preparation to get up, but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don’t wanna.”

“No? What you wanna do then?”

You answer him by slipping to your knees. You spit on his dick, stroking him up and down slowly. He watches you closely as you lower your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip. It takes a lot of restraint, but he lets you do your thing, slowly working him deeper into your throat. He closes his eyes as he concentrates on lasting, but he can’t turn his ears off, the obscene smacks painting a vivid picture for him. When you swipe your tongue across his balls, he moves to stop you, grabbing your shoulders. Fire dances in your eyes as you realize you got him where you want him. “I don’t wanna.” You repeat.

“You are a brat.”

You release him with a pop. “The biggest.” You admit, swallowing him once more. He groans, thinking he can’t believe you’re the same sweet girl who bakes in a frilly pink apron and begs him to tell her bedtime stories.

“I want you to fuck me now.” He stops you before you can bend over the couch. “Slow down. I want you on your back, darlin.”

You throw his earlier words back at him. “That’s nice. I feel really special.”

“You should.” He mocks you, instructing you to hold your legs wide. He wastes no time licking and sucking you as enthusiastically as you had done him. “You’re so pretty. I could eat this pretty pussy forever.” He compliments as you squirm in his hold. “You’d let me, huh?” You shake your head frantically. “No! You’d drive..me crazy!” Payback is a mother, especially when Rio’s the one dishing it out. “Wait, wait—“You whimper, clawing at his shoulders.

“What?” He cajoles. He almost wants to laugh at the distressed look on your face. “I want you.” You pout, trying to sweet-talk him.

“You have me.”

“Not like this. Inside.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Mhm.” You swallow, watching as he fumbles around with his pants searching for a condom. He opens the golden foil packet with expert fingers, positioning himself in between your spread legs. “You don’t have any pointers for me now?” He drags his tip up and down your slit, slowly pushing his way further. Teasing. You shake your head. “No. Just fuck me.”

“That ain’t polite. You gotta say please, mama.” You scowled, but he didn’t budge. “Please.” You pleaded with the sweetest tone you could muster, sighing as he gave in. You cursed at the stretch, him at the way you squeezed him. “You feel…” He couldn’t find the words, so he buried his face in your neck, trying to gain some composure. You caressed the back of his neck sweetly. “You feel good too, baby.”

His hips stuttered forward, and you gasped as he worked himself deeper. You grasp his shoulders tightly, your nails embedding themselves into the soft skin.

“Yes!” You squeal.

“Like that?” He grits out, struggling to keep his rhythm.

“Yes, just like that!” You cry, moaning as he pounds up into you. His lips find yours again, and it’s bliss. Then before you can stop yourself, you’re calling him Daddy like it’s his given name. He groans into your sweaty neck like he’s in pain.

“You’re so nasty.” Overwhelmed and breathless, you whine your protest, “You’re nasty. Look at what you’re doing to me.” His eyes shift to where you’re connected. You’re creaming all over him and leaking down onto the couch, but you can’t bring yourself to care about anything other than coming. You do just that, mewling as you make an even bigger mess between your legs. He whispers filthy things into your ear as he finishes, grunting at the way you seem to be sucking him in even deeper.

“That was—“

“—unreal.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you can bring yourself to move. Your sweat-covered skin sticks together. You swipe your hand against your forehead while he pants.

“I wanted to ride you at least once tonight, but after that, I’ll be lucky to make it to bed.”

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903

RIO TAGLIST

@xsweetdellzx

#good girls rio #nbc good girls #manny montana #rio x reader #rio x black!reader

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inastateofmind · 3 years ago

Text

one day / rafe cameron

a.n. YAY for my first fic!!! please be nice because i really do not know what i’m doing. hopefully it’s okay though. feedback is greatly appreciated. let me know what yall want to see next or if i’ve left out any warnings or anything like that!

pairing: non canon rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: y/n tutors sarah and is pining after rafe, little does she know, rafe is pining after her too. song fic inspired by one day by tate mcrae! i do not own any lyrics used. lyrics are italicized.

word count: 2440

warnings: unrequited love induced angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex if you squint, jealousy, kelce being kelce

“She stares at her ceiling once again with a hundred thoughts,

‘Maybe he knows who I am, probably not.’”

Y/N laid in her room quietly, Olivia Rodrigo’s “enough for you” playing faintly in the background while she stared at the ceiling above her. School had just started two weeks ago and her feelings for Kook King Rafe Cameron had only intensified since then. Working for the school’s student services, she had been assigned to tutor Sarah, which left Y/N seeing Rafe more often than her heart could physically handle. The two of them hadn’t talked much, only sharing a few passing comments to each other while she confided in his home with Sarah. The reality of their relationship was that the older Cameron sibling probably hardly knew her name, however that did not stop her from harboring feelings for him from afar for almost two years.

“She walks down the hall with her head down low, scared to meet his eyes

Even when she hears his voice she's swarmed with butterflies”

The halls of the Kook Academy were crowded with girls in short skirts and crop tops and boys in polos and khakis when the bell rang for lunch. Y/N stopped by her locker to switch out her textbooks for the second half of her day, keeping her head low as she weaved in between the crowd. “Dude, I just don’t get it. I basically used Grammarly for the whole thing and I still got a C?” She could make out Kelce’s voice in all the commotion due to the volume of his outburst. A giggle slipped out of her lips as she slipped past him, knowing the teachers in this school know when the students use programs like Kelce’s to write their papers. “Sorry, Y/L/N, is something funny?” The boy stepped towards her, causing her to finally lift her head and meet the eyes of everyone who was around. Y/N’s eyes were immediately drawn to Rafe’s, and then fallen to the hand that gripped around Kelce’s arm, making him step back from the shy girl in front of him, “Man, leave her alone.” Her eyes met Rafe’s again as he smiled at her, causing butterflies to swarm her insides as she turned and walked away, leaving Rafe victim to Kelce’s teasing of his “crush.”

“It’s impossible to get you off my mind, I think about a hundred thoughts and you are ninety-nine

I’ve understood that you will never be mine, and that’s fine — I’m just breaking inside”

“You look so hot, Y/N,” Sarah complimented, curling the last piece of her own hair while Y/N stared at herself in the mirror. Sarah had insisted she come to the annual bonfire, and in return had offered to help her get ready. “Rafe is going to die when he sees you tonight.” Y/N thought her heart stopped right then and there. She spun around quickly, staring at Sarah. “What?” Sarah laughed, fluffing her hair as she stood up. “Y/N/N, you can’t hide that from me. I figure out everything.” Y/N sighed and made her way towards the door, opening it for Sarah to lead the way. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s got a thing for you too.”

—

The bonfire was not Y/N’s scene, to say the least. By the time her and Sarah arrived, many people were already wasted. The number of people in the small space was enough to send Y/N into fight or flight mode, but Sarah was quick to pull her into the crowd with a drink and start dancing. Several songs passed before Y/N found Rafe, who already had his eyes on her. She blushed, suddenly feeling very self conscious. Was this crop top too cropped? Has she danced too bad it’s been embarrassing? Is it obvious she doesn’t belong here? She must’ve been lost in her thoughts for some time, because next thing she knew, Rafe’s hands were resting on her hips, bringing her back to earth. “Anyone home?” He joked, tapping her hips with his fingers. She laughed lightly, her nerves flowing through her body. Rafe leaned into her ear, his breath warm against her cold skin, “You look really good.” This small compliment mixed with the alcohol coursing through her veins gave her a new found confidence. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Cameron.” Y/N swore she saw a faint blush on the notorious bad boy’s cheeks, but she would never be too sure, because as quick as their moment started, it ended. “Rafe! Beer pong let’s go!” Topper yelled from behind Rafe, a crowd cheering at the mention of Rafe’s name. The boy sighed and rolled his eyes. Y/N placed a hand on his chest, “Go,” she smiled, “You can find me later.” Rafe smiled at her before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be back.” Y/N watched as Rafe ran into the crowd chanting his name, laughing as he turned around and pretended to have Topper “crown” him as the beer pong king before beginning their game.

—

An hour had passed when Y/N had begin to feel tired of chatting up random people from school. She had consumed a few more drinks while waiting for Rafe to come find her, however he never came. She decided to take things into her own hands and find Rafe herself. Standing from the log surrounding the bonfire, she swayed slightly as she walked around the small space searching for Rafe. She didn’t see him anywhere, so she had assumed he had left on his own accord. That is, until she heard whistling from Topper and Kelce. “Okay Rafey boy!” She turned quickly to see Rafe helping a skinny blonde from their calculus class into his car. Suddenly, her shoes were the most interesting thing at the bonfire. Y/N felt stupid for ever thinking Rafe cared or was attracted to her, and she felt even more stupid for thinking he was really going to come find her. “Hey,” she turned to see Sarah smiling at her sadly. “John B’s here to take us home,” Y/N cut her off, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m going to go back to mine actually.”

“He always walks the crowded halls and is blinded by this light

A girl who keeps her head down low and never shows her eyes”

Rafe spent most of his time at school surrounded by an entourage. However, as of recently, his main focus hasn’t been the popularity or the girls flocking his way, but more so a specific girl: Y/N. He watched her in class while she worked ahead of the teacher, he noticed how she got anxious in the crowded hallways, he loved how she opened up while she hung out with Sarah after school. He had never felt so attached to a girl before, especially one he had hardly talked to. Something about Y/N just kept drawing Rafe in, making him want to be a proper gentleman and get to know her— all the weird little things and the seemingly unimportant things too.

“He tried to talk to her but there’s no easy way

‘Cause every time he raises his voice, she runs away”

“Y/N! Hey, wait up!” Rafe yelled down the hallway, running after the girl as she beelined it to her locker. “Y/N,” She opened her locker, shoving her books into it with a sigh. “What do you want, Rafe?” His eyebrows furrowed at her tone. He didn’t understand. At the bonfire, things had been going so good. Now, he could barely get the girl to glance in his direction. “Why are you avoiding me? I thought at the bonfire…” She cut him off, slamming her locker shut. “Yeah, I thought things at the bonfire were going good too, until you left me there to go off with some girl,” She shrugged, turning and walking away before Rafe could even respond. He ran a hand through his hair out of frustration. The reality of the situation: the girl from the bonfire was truly just a friend who was far too wasted and vulnerable to get home on her own, and Rafe recognized that and offered to take her home. He couldn’t blame Y/N for thinking otherwise though, seeing as he did have quite the reputation. He glanced once more in the direction she walked off into before going to meet the younger Cameron sibling for advice.

“Oh, it’s impossible to get you off my mind

I think about a hundred thoughts and you are ninety-nine.

I’ve understood that you will never be mine and that’s fine,

I’m just breaking inside”

Rafe spent the next few afternoons in the comfort of the country club with Kelce and Topper, avoiding his home at all costs until he was sure Y/N was done tutoring Sarah. He wanted nothing more than to go home and steal the girl from his sister so they could talk things out, but he knew that would ultimately make things worse, so he kept his distance. However, the phrase “distance makes the heart grow fonder” rang true, because Y/N was the only thing on his mind. By Wednesday afternoon, he finally gave in, going straight home from school. Wednesdays for Y/N and Sarah were typically their “relaxation” day before cramming for tests on Thursday, so Rafe expected to walk into the living room to find the two of you curled up on the couch. However, the house was oddly quiet and the driveway empty. He texted Sarah, asking where they were.

“John B’s. Be back by dinner.”

John B’s?

Y/N was at John B’s?

Rafe shook his head, opening Snapchat. He looked at Sarah’s story, a picture of her, Kiara and Y/N on the HMS Pogue. He smiled at how happy she looked. The next picture was one of Sarah in John B’s lap, with Y/N in the background sporting JJ’s hat and seemingly swatting at him while he reached to take it back. Rafe’s heart dropped slightly, staring at this picture a little longer than necessary. Maybe if he would’ve stayed with her at the bonfire, that could’ve been them. Now he had basically walked the girl of his dreams into the arms of JJ Maybank.

‘Maybe it’s better this way,’ He thought.

But maybe he didn’t want better.

“One day, maybe she’ll stay and start to head over his way

And one day, she’ll look into his eyes and instead of breaking, she’ll call him ‘Mine’

One day, he’ll grab her by the waist and force them to meet face to face

One day he’ll look into her eyes and say that ‘You’re my only light’”

His phone ringing at 1 in the morning woke Rafe from his sleep, not even bothering to see who was calling before answering. “It better be important if you’re waking me up,” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Rafe, you’re too sweet sometimes, you know?” Rafe rolled his eyes, staring at the clock. “Topper, why did you call me?” His patience was wearing thin, but he knew Topper wouldn’t have called him without reason at this time of night. “I just wanted to tell you I just passed Y/N walking home by herself, I asked if she wanted me to give her a ride and she said no, but she looked pretty shaken up. I’ve still got an eye on her but I thought you might want to come,” Topper didn’t have to finish, the minute the girl’s name had fallen out of his mouth Rafe was throwing on a sweatshirt and slipping into shoes faster than he ever has before. His mind was running a million miles a minute.

Why was she out this late by herself?

Why didn’t she call someone?

Did something already happen?

Rafe grabbed his keys and sped to Topper’s shared location, slowing down once he saw his jeep ahead of him. “I’ve got her, man. Thanks.” He hung up before pulling his car off onto the side of the road. “Y/N,” Rafe spoke as he got out, loud enough that she could hear it was him and not startle her. She turned quickly, staring at him as he approached her slowly. “I just wanted to go for a walk,” she mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone.” Rafe nodded. “I’m not mad at you, but it’s late,” he spoke gently. He could see on her face she was upset and he didn’t want to make it worse. Y/N was looking everywhere but at him. She was nervous, embarrassed, everything in between. “Hey,” Rafe whispered, placing his hands on her waist like he did at the bonfire. Her eyes met his and he could read her like an open book. He saw the nerves. He saw the sadness. “Let’s get you home.”

The car ride back to the Cameron household was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Rafe kept one hand on the wheel and one locked in Y/N’s, glancing over at her every few minutes to make sure she was doing okay. Back at the house, he provided her clothes to change into while he grabbed some drinks for them. Y/N sat on his bed, preparing herself for what she was about to do. It was the reason for the walk, the reason for the silence in the car. Honestly, this could be an awful time to do it, but there was no turning back now. “Okay, so I’ve got chips, cookies, water, Pepsi, mountain dew,” “Rafe.” Y/N cut him off, staring at him as she sat criss crossed on his bed. He sat everything down and stared at her, encouraging her to continue. “This could be a bad time to tell you, but I like you. I went on that walk because I needed to get you out of my head but then you showed up so clearly it didn’t work and honestly I’ve liked you for a while, and you don’t have to like me back, oh no you’re laughing,” She cut herself off at the sight of Rafe chuckling and moving towards her. “Why are you laughing?” Y/N whispered as he got close enough that he could feel his breath on her skin. “Because,” Rafe smiled, “I like you too.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #obx #rafe x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #obx imagine #obx fic #outer banks #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 4 years ago

Text

Aaron Hotchner / Worth Your While

Prompts: The Beard Hotch Fic™ - inspired by that one episode where hotch has a beard and all of us collectively lost our minds

Word count: 3.728

Warnings: E, phone sex, mutual masturbation, beard kink (i guess that’s a thing??), oral (f receiving), i don’t know just smut

Image Credit: @agenthotchner

“Still don’t know when you’re coming back?”

A sigh floated through the phone, “Not yet,” you hum, climbing into bed on top of your covers, your legs folded underneath you. You hear his cot creak underneath him. You hummed, as you placed your pillow beside you, if you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine that he was lying there beside you.

“Enjoying the hot Pakistani desert a bit too much, Hotch?” a small chuckle leaves his throat, voice gruff over the line.

“I would enjoy it a lot more if you and Jack were with me,” your chest aches at the sound of the weariness in his voice. He was so tired — and now you couldn’t even take care of him. Another sigh leaves his lips, before he adds, a ghost of a laugh in his voice, “although he’s not a fan of the beard.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Really?”

“His exact words were, ‘do they not sell razors there, Dad?’” you snort, turning onto your side, “I think I’m going to shave it off before I get back.”

“Ah let’s not rush it,” you bit your lip, running your fingers over your bare neck, “why don’t we ask for some other opinions before we jump to conclusions?”

You could practically hear his eyebrow raise over the phone, “And what’s your opinion, sweetheart?” his voice is low and scratchy, and you can almost imagine his fingers tucking your hair behind your ear as he murmured the question against your neck.

You feel a heat begin to climb up your neck, and down your body, “I don’t think you should shave,”

“You don’t think?” he presses, and you hear the cot groan again as he shifts, “or I shouldn’t?”

“You shouldn’t,” you swallowed, fingers drifting down to the waistband of your shorts, “not until you see me again.”

“And what are you going to do when you see me again?” you whimper, fingers past the elastic of your shorts, your fingers drift against your soaked panties, “answer me.” You gasp his name as your fingers circle your clit, “are you touching yourself?”

“Yes,” you say, breath uneven as he shifts in his cot again, more this time, “I need you, Aaron, I—”

“Call me on video call,” he hisses, and you know his fingers are around his length, the video call feed only confirming it, “see what you do to me,” his pants are gruff and short, “show me what you’re doing.” You flip the camera from your face to the middle of your thighs, your hand hidden beneath the fabric of your obviously drenched underwear, “Pull those off, I want to see you. I want to see exactly what I’m doing to you.”

Your underwear slides down your thighs, slowly, as you lift your hips for the camera. And his breath hitches when he sees you — soaking wet and two fingers deep in your pussy, “Aaron, fuck, I miss you—”

“What do you miss?” there’s an edge to his voice, an urgency, but still, his voice is hushed and quiet, tension thrumming in the air, “tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Is that an order, sir?” and you hear him groan quietly over the phone that hangs in the silence of the desert.

“Fuck, yes, it is,” he growls, and he hears a quiet hum leave your throat, and he knows you’re enjoying this — all too much, but not as much as if he were actually there. If he had two thick fingers pressed inside of you. His mouth swallowing all the little noises leaving your throat, until his lips sucked dark bruises against the hollow of your throat.

“I would want you to pin me down, your fingers parting my thighs,” quick gasps part your lips, filling the silence of his tent, and you wonder — could someone hear you if you were just a little too loud? Could a colleague hear your desperate cries of his name, you begging him for his cock, his mouth, his fingers — anything, “feel your beard against my thighs as you wrap your tongue around my clit, fingers inside me, like mine are now—” Your fingers sink deeper, adding another with a loud gasp, your hips rolling against your hand, “and I’d cum all over your face.” His beard slick with your cum, as he kisses you again, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.

“Then, you want me to fuck you hard, don’t you?” a helpless whine parts your throat at his words, low and sharp, “But still, I’d sink into you, slowly, let you feel every inch of myself part you — wet and tight — for me.”

You arch your back against your bed, Only for him.

“Aaron, please, I need to see you — see your face—” You’re close — he doesn’t need to see your face to know that. And you know he hears it — hears you preen against you, and in the quiet silence of your bedroom, and his hand squeezes his cock. Fuck, and he abides by your request — shows you his face contorted in quietly controlled pleasure, his teeth against his bottom lip, until he hears you.

“Aaron, I’m—” he groans, far too loud for the quiet desert and conscious colleagues that surrounded him. But it only further pushes you over the edge, thinking about that groan in your ear, pressing kisses against your neck, fucking you hard and fast until your walls tighten around your fingers, phone falling from your hand. But not before you hear him say your name, reverent and breathy.

Your fingers begin to still, the feeling of your fingers carrying you through your orgasm, chest rising and falling in quick pants. Your body slumps against your mattress, boneless, eyes squeezed shut. That is, until you hear a voice on the phone.

“Fuck,” you mutter, reaching for the phone, “sorry, did you say something?”

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice deep and blissed out — and you can almost feel the words of love vibrate against your skin, “I miss you, so much.”

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder?” you offer, flipping the camera so he could see your face, “but phone sex definitely helps.”

A smile pulls at his lips, “It does, but it’s not enough.”

“No, nothing compares to the real thing,” you sigh, rolling over on your bed, “but luckily, the real thing is waiting for you when you get back,” and then you add, “Just don’t shave the beard.”

He runs a hand through his beard, “Yes ma’am. You’ll make it worth my while?”

You grin, tilting your head, “Don’t I always?”

~~~

Hotch leaned against the headrest of the airplane seat, stuffed between two sleeping passengers — this was certainly different than using the jet. Not that he was complaining — he needed to get back. He resisted the urge to drum his fingers on the arm rests.

Ian Doyle. That was a name he had spent several months trying to forget. The events of what happened still haunted him, but even more than that, the lies he had to tell the team wore away at him. Guilt gnawed at his insides, a pit in his stomach that he was sure would give way.

He had to do it. He had no choice. He was the team’s leader. He had to make the hard decisions. He had to bear the burden. But he only wished he didn’t have to do it at the team’s expense.

He rubbed at his eyes. Watching them cry and mourn, listening to them grieve right in front of him, as he evaluated each of them for field work — it had killed him. And now it would all come out. Prentiss was alive. And they had kept it from them. He had kept it from them.

But there was no use thinking about the fallout. Not when he was on a plane miles away from its destination still. No, he needed to think about something else.

He glanced at his phone, smiling at the picture of you and Jack smiling back at him. He remembered the day they had taken that photo. It was your first time spending time with Jack. He never met someone who clicked so easily with Jack — after everything that had happened with Haley, Jack was a little quieter, a little more reserved (not so dissimilar to himself, you had pointed out to him). But with you, it was different. He would smile. He would laugh. He understood. He knew you and you knew him. And he was so grateful for that.

And he was so grateful for you.

His fingers rubbed at his chin, still prickly with his beard. He had kept his promise — he had kept it for you. Even though Jack would be less than pleased. He would be staying with Jessica either way while he dealt with the situation at hand. He wouldn’t be getting much sleep the next few days — he knew that for sure. But even so, the prospect of seeing you soon made his chest feel a little lighter. No longer would date night consist of a hurried dinner and possible phone sex. Now, he could hold you, he could touch you, and he could fall asleep to your quiet breaths, instead of to a far too hot desert and a lonely cot.

And the best part? He hadn’t told you that he was coming back yet. And he didn’t think he was going to, until he was at your doorstep.

~~~

“How was work today?” Hotch gave a heavy sigh over the phone, and you put down the bowl of dough you had been stirring, “Aaron?”

“It was a hard day,” he cleared his throat, “we saved a kid, but he saw his father die in front of him.”

“Aaron,” you wished you could touch him, could comfort him, no words were enough for times like this, “you couldn’t have done anything more. You saved his life.”

“I know, I just—” he clicked his tongue, “I just wish it didn’t turn out that way.”

“And that’s why you’re one of the good guys,” you smile at your phone, “and that’s why you can’t let it eat away at you — you still have your own little boy to come home too. Not to mention, your very patient girlfriend.”

He laughed, a soft noise that made your heart stutter in its chest, “You have been very patient, haven’t you?”

“I have,” you hummed, perking up at the tone of his voice — appreciative and teasing — “got something to reward me with?”

“I actually might,” and you bit your lip, “but you’ll have to do me a favor.”

“This is my reward, and I have to do you a favor?” you clicked your tongue, “doesn’t seem very fair, Agent Hotchner.”

“I know all about fairness, sweetheart. After all, I did study it in law school,” you could almost see him shaking his head, a smile dancing across his lips, “I just need you to open your door.”

“Open my door?” you wiped your hands clean, before grabbing the phone off the counter, making your way to your door. You spotted the back of someone’s head through the peephole. Locks clicking as you undid the lock and the deadbolt, you held the phone between your shoulder and your cheek, “Aaron Hotchner, did you order me dinner again? Because I told you I already—”

You gasped, your phone clattering against your hardwood floors. Aaron stood, hands in his pockets, a smile on his lips, as he tilted his head, “No, but I did bring dessert.”

“Aaron!” you ran into his arms, hands on his shoulders, face buried in his chest, “I can’t believe this. You’re back. You’re here.”

“I am,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair, “and I’m not going anywhere now.”

You pulled away, “You’re back for good?” and he nods, as your fingers cup his face, thumbs running over his cheeks, and you note the bristle underneath your fingertips, “and I see you kept your promise.”

“Of course, I’m a man of my word,” he breaths, leaning closer as your breath hitches, his lips pressing against yours. It had been months, and you had nearly forgotten how he tasted, lips moving firmly against your own. His teeth grazed your lip, as he eagerly swallowed your moan, as your hands tangled themselves in his hair, walking backwards, as he shut the door with his foot, “I missed you so much,” he says in between kisses that stole the air from your lungs.

Your hands pushed the jacket from his shoulders, “I missed you too,” his hands squeezed your hips, before his hands slipped your thighs, lifting you against him, as he carried you to your bedroom. No longer could you tell where you began and he ended, but you didn’t care — not when his teeth grazed against your pulse point like that. He had you pressed flush against your bedroom door, lips burning a trail of kisses down your neck, fingers toying with the straps of your camisole.

“Take me to bed,” you whispered, and he did — placing you on your bed, and in a second, he was on top of you.

Your fingers busied themselves with undoing the buttons on his button down, while his slid the hem of your camisole higher and higher. You undid the last button and the shirt slid off his shoulders, and he lifted his arms as you did away with the undershirt immediately. Your fingers traced over the broad expanse of his chest reverently, enjoying how his muscles reacted to your touch and how his breath stuttered his chest when your fingers grazed him. The same man who stayed calm under pressure crumbled under your touch.

You raised your arms and he slipped the camisole from your body, groaning when he realized you had no bra on underneath. His fingers teased your nipples, mouth wrapped around one of them, “Aaron,” you arched your back into his touch, your fingers slipping between your bodies, trying to undo the button on his pants. His teeth grazed your nipple, soothing the sting with the flat of his tongue, “please,”

You undo the button of his pants, and pull them down, helping him kick them off. He whispers your name, pressing a kiss to the skin between your breasts, before tucking fallen strands of hair behind your ear, “What do you want, baby?”

Your eyes fall to the prominent bulge in his boxers, “Fuck me,” you look up at him, thumb brushing his lips, and he smiles, pressing another heated kiss to your lips.

“Not before I taste you,” he says, voice husky, as he burns a trail of openmouthed kisses down your body, re-familiarizing himself with every curve and dip of your body, until the fire in the pit of your stomach all but engulfs you. He tugs your sleep shorts down, as you lift your hips to help him, kicking them off. His calloused hands part your thighs, as he settles between them. You watch him with lidded eyes, breath stuck somewhere in the back of your throat. A low groan rumbles in his chest at the sight of your obviously soaked panties. You hiss as his beard scratches beautifully against your thighs, friction making you squirm, until his large palms steadied you. Fingers splayed over the soft skin of your inner thighs, his nose brushing far too close to your soaked center, as he kisses right below the waistband.

“I had forgotten how good you smell,” he murmurs, another kiss, this time right on top of the wet spot on your panties.

He spreads you wider, hips jumping as your heart does in your chest, when his fingers brush your slit through the thin fabric. He doesn’t remove them, no, instead, he slides the crotch aside placing you on full display for him, half wrapped in that silk fabric. You hiss when you feel his warm breath mingling with the cool air of the room. His tongue darts out across his lips, looking at you with half-lidded eyes, before leaning down to press a kiss to your warmth.

His moan vibrates against you, a reverent noise of unrestrained passion and you know that this is just as much for him as it is for you, sending shivers down your spine of what’s to come. A single finger begins to part your folds, as his mouth presses butterfly kisses all around your clit, his beard deliciously grazing against your thighs. And finally, he takes a single broad swipe up his tongue up the length of your weeping cunt. A gasp blooms into a moan, as your fingers grasp at him, traveling the length of his shoulders, until you are able to card your fingers through his dark strands.

His tongue moves in tight circles, your muscles squeezing his thick finger, as keen against him, eager for more, more. As you always were for him, and only him. Desperate for his touch, even when he couldn’t provide it. His beard only stokes the fire coiling in your stomach, now burning against your cunt.

The phone sex seemed like a distant memory, a cheap imitation of the real thing. Nothing, nothing could compare to his lips, his tongue, his teeth, his touch. Nothing could compare your fingers threaded through his hair, his moans quietly reverberating against your slick folds. Nothing could compare to him — the sweet man who had just come back after spending weeks away from his home, his family, his friends, his life — but he chose to spend this night with you.

Another finger parts your folds, and a broken whine leaves your throat, as your head falls against your plush bed, “You take me so well, sweetheart,” he mutters, tongue flicking against your clit, as you lift your eyes to meet his gaze, “so good to me. So patient. So sweet.”

And that’s when his mouth closes over your clit. Your hips rock against the flat palms of his hands, as his tongue flicks against it. And the coil in you snaps, his name a ghost upon your lips, a soundless scream on your lips. You feel him hum against you, far too pleased, but you barely notice, lost in your own high. But he does not relent, pulling your orgasm from you as his fingers scrape against your shuddering walls, tongue eagerly tasting all that you offer him.

He drags himself back up to you, his hardness brushing the inside of your thigh. His fingers trace your jawline, as your eyelids flutter, watching his tongue dart across his chin, still glistening with your release. His lips quickly follow the paths scorched by his fingertips. His lips find yours again when your breaths are even, and even now you can’t get enough of him.

You arch towards him, fingers sliding down his chest to the waistband of his boxers, “Sweetheart,” a strangled groan of your name on lips still sticky with your cum, and he stares at you, eyes black as the darkness that surrounds you, as you slide his boxers down finally.

You both groan in tandem, as your fingers close around his length, flushed and weeping. His hips lean into your touch, the head of his cock brushing your folds.

“Aaron,” you shake your head, “I need you.”

“Where do you need me?” his voice barely above a rasp. He rips your hand from him, pinning both your wrists to either side of your head. He presses another kiss to your skittering heartbeat.

“I need you to fuck me—” you gasp, as his teeth scrape against your neck, pressing soft kisses against its length, before sucking a pretty bruise against the hollow of your throat, “please.”

He sinks into you then, sliding into your warmth, murmuring in your ear. Your mouth falls open, “Even after all this time, you take me so well,” his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thigh as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, “I love you.”

His name is a prayer, his touch is your salvation, as his nails dig crescents into the curve of your hips, “Missed you so much—” his own snap against you harder, deeper, “needed you so bad. I love you. I love you.”

“I want to feel you cum for me, sweetheart,” his fingers skim your clit, and that’s it. You come apart underneath him, veins no longer filled with blood, but with pleasure. His hips stutter as your muscles flutter around his cock, still fucking you through your orgasm, as his fingers make you jump against him, “Say my name,” he growls, as your arms wind around his shoulder, tugging him closer, closer, closer, “say it.”

And you do, just as he cums inside of you with a groan of your name in your ear, nearly collapsing on you. He presses into you, and it’s much too warm, the sticky heat and smell of sex pervades, but you don’t care. Still you tug him closer, chest to chest, as your eyes shut. You feel him come down from his high, his breath slowing. He pulls himself out, and your body mourns his absence. He curls up beside you for a moment, his finger drawing absentminded circles on your thigh. You look at him, a smile pulling at your lips as you find him staring at you. And you press kisses to him — to his shoulder and neck, your fingers sweeping his hair out of his eyes.

But his gaze still persists, “What?” you ask softly, your fingers tracing his jaw, enjoying the scratch of his beard against your fingertips.

“Should I keep the beard?” and you laugh, shaking your head, as you lay back on the pillow.

“I think you should do whatever you want to do,” and he kisses you again, full and warm and happy, “and I think you should definitely take Jack’s opinion into mind.”

He raises a brow, a smile on his lips, “Will you still make it worth my while?”

You roll your eyes, fingers cupping his cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, “I will always make it worth your while.”

Tags: @bucky-of-the-opera, @agenthotchner, @sammy-babes, @hommoturttle, @flightsoffandom, @penelopecult, @good-heavens-chris-evans, @tgibstan, @ssacandi-ass-prentiss, @daddy-hot-chner, @ilytgibs, @spencerreidisgodly, @aquila-leo, @gabile18, @kurtsieforlife, @kinkyassvampire, @aaronelishotch, @spooky-muldy, @thecharmingart, @emma-alysee, @honeyshores, @tegggeeee, @evee87, @missbrightside13, @antmnwasp, @stardust-fray, @pansexualh, @hearmecallinyou, @arabellathorne, @llemmapie, @hecklleandjyde, @anonymous-0tter, @jdougl-love, @musiharrystyles, @spencerhotchner, @purpleturtle31extra, @blatant-attitude, @nuiboo, @shamelesslyf, @just-a-nat, @genevievedarcygranger, @captain-christopher-pike, @natienerd, @unsocialized-nerd, @zoerayne2426, @hp-marvel-starwars-kotlc, @aannamaria98, @infj-slytherclaw, @i-am-addicted-to-tea, @lghenry4, @geekgirl007, @rintheemolion, @m00sethemurderer, @justevraimentconfus, @elite4cekalyma, @soloriormora, @b-is-for-brynn, @willows-studies, @dreila03, @skittle479, @kalexp, @peachymomosblog, @retromami, @ijustwantanapandtocallitaday, @a-disaster-bisexual, @daydreamingandbooks, @joemazzello-imagines, @wargoddesss, @pann1247, @giveusbackourbucky, @justanotherbrunette, @1mailefigueroa1, @yes-sir-hotchner, @kitachan21, @smiles1994, @criminallyfanatic, @ange-must-die, @lotties-journey-abroad, @marvels-agents100, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @captain-christopher-pike, @therestisconfettis, @asuckerforyou, @ephemeral-barnes

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #aaron hotchner smut #hotch x reader #hotch imagines #hotch smut

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fatedwithmbc · 2 years ago

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It’s Only Been 7 Days:

Apparently, my last post was 7 days ago. It feels much longer than that. I don’t even remember what I last wrote about. That is likely contributing to the feeling that it’s been such a long time. Anyway, I digress…

Let’s get the MBC out of the way:

My lung inflammation (pleurisy) has improved significantly! I can take deeper breaths, I can move more freely. However, sneezing fits seem to re-aggravate things.

I have started my 2nd cycle of Kisqali; I’m on week 2. One left until my off week.

I should be happier about some of my tumors shrinking, but I am left with weird “IDGAF” feelings.

My medical marijuana card was approved and mailed to me. I have since visited a dispensary. This shit is going to be a lot of trial and error. The gummies I was taking prior to my card approval were pure THC. Apparently, this provides a different type of “high” than a product called a 1:1. A 1:1 is one part THC and one part CBD. The idea being the CBD will counteract some of the THC effects. Therefore, when I am taking these tinctures, it feels like nothing is happening, because I am used to the “high” from the THC-only product. While I’ve felt like nothing is happening, I’ve had a few problems with oversleeping because the effects of the 1:1 are keeping me asleep. I called and spoke to a “guide” (for lack of better wording) to advise how I should proceed with the tinctures. I should take them much sooner than I do now (currently, 10pm or later) and take them well before I start my bedtime routine (as early as 8pm).

I have an oncology appointment on Friday. I am interested in what my doctor will have to say after reviewing the scans from my ER visit and if there will be any changes to my treatment.

My surgery is 18 days away and I feel like I have a list as long as the Great Wall of China of things to do before then. I am also nervous. I don’t want anything to go wrong during the procedure. I feel like I am putting a heavy burden on my sister-in-law that day and I know my health has been causing her some anxiety already. It will be ok. It HAS to be.

It’s Friday I’m in [LIKE]:

I was able to see “E” on Friday. <insert silly, smiley face here> I didn’t think that we’d manage a visit as he traveled to his parents’ for his birthday this weekend. The short story is Friday was nice and low-key. I even had gifts awaiting me (stickers for my medical book (incredibly thoughtful and funny)). We watched episodes of “I am a Stalker” and “Nailed It!” and had Chinese food for dinner. The dog is still very uncertain of my presence, but snuggles next to me at bedtime. I mustn’t be that terrible if the dog sleeps next to me. The best part of the visit was finally having our FIRST kiss. Gosh, I’m such a girl sometimes.

Things are progressing well for us and I’m hesitant to disrupt the relationship and the dynamic with the inevitable “what-are-we” conversation. So, I’m skipping it. I just want to be happy. Why disrupt the positive nature of our situation to “define the relationship”? I’m not ready to do that yet. I’m not ready to let go if the outcome isn’t what I want it to be. However, conversations about holiday gift-giving (I already got the dog a Christmas present and I think I am more excited about it than he will be), constant communication, and being called “Sunshine”, make me think I’m being too pessimistic for my own good.

I likely won’t see “E” until December now. Thanksgiving and distance make it difficult for us to try to plan seeing each other this week. But, distance makes the heart grow fonder. Or so “they” say.

Random Ramblings:

Figuring out MM would be great.

I bought a weighted blanket, but need to wash it and shit before I can use it.

I also got Bailey a Christmas present - hers is pretty great too!

I started Christmas shopping (obviously); and have of course bought myself something each time I purchased something. (Shrugs Shoulders).

I had my Tarot Cards read. It was an interesting experience. I might get my palm read next.

I’m still scared.

El Fin.

Notifications: @kcco265 , @guardgirl101 , @lb4d

#fated with mbc #confessions of a cancer patient #metastatic breast cancer #stage iv deserves more

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nazyalenskyism · 4 years ago

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Take My Hand, Wreck My Plans

Summary: A Zoyalai fic based on the prompt: “Some angst and comfort. Some reunion after a very, very long time.” send me a promt and i’ll write you a blurb

“Do you see her?” Genya called out, scanning the waves of people disembarking the ships on her tiptoes. It had been months since Zoya had been stationed in the Wandering Isle, a position she had specifically asked him for before the war had ended as they walked through the streets of Ketterdam. Despite Genya’s insistence that Zoya not leave, the two of them had known that it was a necessity. They were too close to crossing a line that they couldn’t afford to, and they had silently agreed that distance was the only way to remedy the problem. Nikolai had known that leading the country into a peaceful era was going to be taxing, but he hadn’t imagined how difficult it was going to be without Zoya at his side. He had come to rely on her, not only for matters of the state, but for matters of the mind too, and ever since she’d left all those months ago, he’d only felt the discontent in his heart grow. He thought he could temper his want for Zoya if she wasn’t constantly at his side, but he’d come to learn that there was a reason for the famous saying, ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’, being so popular. Nikolai could hear his general’s voice in his ear, could picture the roll of her eyes at the confession, how she would threaten to call Tolya into the room so that the two could lament over forlorn poetry while she got drunk with Tamar, Genya and Nadia. Saints, he missed her.

“It’s dropped anchor late,” Nikolai called back, slipping his timepiece back into his pocket, brushing his fingers against the cool velvet ribbon before turning to Genya. “And besides, it’ll take them a bit to disembark and--”

“Nikolai,” Genya gasped in response to a sudden commotion at the gangplank. Nikolai’s head snapped up spotting the daub of blue silk descending down the plank, supported on either side by First Army soldiers. Zoya. “Move,” Genya yelled, elbowing her way through the crowd, Nikolai hot on her heels. If the sickly pallor of her face and droopy lids of her eyes weren’t alarming enough, the way that she crumpled into his arms was and matted blood in her hair were.

“Commander Nazyalensky? Zoya?” A low, unintelligible groan sounded from her lips and Nikolai’s heart dropped. What had happened to her? At Genya’s command, he laid Zoya out on the ground, letting Tamar assess her condition. Tamar’s hands hovered over Zoya’s form, and after a long moment, the Heartrender spoke. “She should be fine, but we need to get her back to the Dacha, we need more healers.”

Genya grasped at Tamar as Nikolai carefully lifted his general into his arms, “is it that bad?” “She’s lost a lot of blood, it’s a messy and difficult process that I don’t want to try in the back of the carriage. She should be okay.”

“She has to be fine. I can’t lose her too.” Tamar squeezed the other girl’s shoulder at the words before hopping into the driver’s seat with Tolya, briefing him on the situation while the others settled into the coach. “Come on, Nazyalensky. Hold on a little while longer,” Nikolai whispered as they tore down the road, Zoya’s unconscious form limp in his arms, Genya’s shaking fingers curled into the blue silk of her kefta, as if she could force Zoya to stay with them.

The next few hours were a blur in his mind. As soon as the carriage stopped, the Tolya offered to take Zoya in his arms but Nikolai refused to leave, carrying her to his chambers. For once his head was clear of anything but the situation at hand. They’d lost so much, they couldn’t afford to lose Zoya. He couldn’t bear to lose Zoya. He stood by the window as the healers got to work on his general, applying their training in the small science to replenish her blood and heal her wounds. Nikolai knew that the Corporalki were more than capable, but he knew as well as anyone the potential for things to go wrong, no matter how good the odds were.

Nikolai was brought a basin of water to wash off with, a stack of urgent letters, and the reports from the crew of the ship and their account of the events that had left Zoya in this state. Once he’d read the reports, he sent the letters away, nothing was more urgent than this. After what seemed like an eternity, Tolya sent the healers away, stating that he and Tamar could finish the job themselves, but he knew the reason they did this. It was because Zoya would’ve hated to appear vulnerable before this many people, she would probably admonish them all after she woke up for having the audacity to view her in her injured state, despite being her closest friends. It was when they were alone, Genya in one corner of the room, Nikolai in the other, with the twins standing over Zoya when the silence was broken once more. “You’re not allowed to let her leave again.” He scrubbed a hand over his face before turning to Genya, “even if I tried, do you think she would listen? Zoya Nazyalensky takes orders from no one, we all know that.” “Don’t let her look for reasons to leave. Give her a reason to stay. ” Before Nikolai could fully process the meaning behind her words, a low groan caught their attention. “Nikolai?” I’m here, he wanted to say, but for the first time in his life, apprehension held him back. “Where’s Nikolai,” she mumbled again, writhing enough to disrupt the twins’ work. He was at her side in an instant, sinking onto the mattress and taking her reaching hand in his. “I’m here,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from face, watching the crease in her brow ease as she unconsciously leaned into his touch. Her movements stopped, her body relaxing back into sleep, and Nikolai felt his heart tighten at the way she curled into him. He felt stares from their friends, but no one said anything aside from Zoya’s occasional calls from him whenever he stepped back to let the twins continue their work. Every time she called, he was there, brushing back her hair, holding her hand between his, murmuring words of encouragement he knew she wouldn’t hear or remember. Around twilight, Nikolai realized that his friends had left them, the quiet of the room felt suffocating now that they were alone. It felt wrong that she was the one injured and asleep while he watched over her, for months their positions had been reversed, and while he hadn’t missed being chained to his bed every night he had missed the time it had given him with her. She had been the first thing he saw in the morning, the last thing he saw at night for months, and he hadn’t realized just how much he missed what that particular practice of theirs had given him. He slowly pulled his hand from hers, easing into a chair at her bedside. “I’m sorry I let you go,” he whispered, closing his eyes for a moment before he heard her voice.

“Nikolai?” “I’m here,” he replied, helping her into a sitting position, and filling up a glass of water for her before settling down himself. “You’re really here?” “I know it’s hard to believe, as handsome as I am, I’m not a dream.” He smiled at her irritated exhale, “long time no see, Nazyalensky. You’re looking as darling as ever.”

“You look worse. Much worse than I remember.”

“I know I must be devilishly handsome in your fantasies, but a day spent tirelessly at your bedside may have me looking a little worse for wear, I’ll admit.” “Where are we?” Her dark lashes fluttered against her golden cheeks, voice hoarse but the colour seemed to have returned to her face.

“Udova. The twins said that you needed more Corporalki to help stabilize you. You lost a lot of blood.”

“This is your ancestral estate?”

“Given how my father is Fjerdan, I don’t think it’s technically mine.”

“You used to come here as a child?” faint amusement lit her eyes, “baby Nikolai reigning terror on everyone, or holed away in the library, reading books until you couldn’t see straight?” “Both.”

“Of course, I would expect nothing less.” A lingering silence followed her words, neither sure of exactly how to proceed. “How are you feel--”

“You look tired,” her hand reached out, and before he could react, she was cupping his face softly, thumb gently stroking along his cheek. “Have you been sleeping?” “Yes.”

Her stern gaze met his eyes, “your lies don’t work on me.”

“First you’re immune to my charm, and now my lies. Keep this up and you’ll put me out of business, Nazyalensky.”

Zoya’s hand dropped suddenly, her whole body recoiling at his words, leaving him to shudder from the absence of her warmth. Was she so horrified at the mere idea of being charmed by him? Nikolai sank back into his chair, unsure of how to proceed. Zoya sat staring down stubbornly at her intertwined fingers, and he couldn’t take it anymore, he needed answers. “What happened out there? You almost died Zoya.”

“I was protecting the crew.”

“You were unnecessarily throwing yourself in harm's way and you know it. I got the report from the Captain, he said that they would’ve made it safely to port without your heroics.”

“I had no choice! It was either me or them.” Nikolai laughed humorlessly, running a frustrated hand through his hair, an action he had repeated countless times today. “That’s not true and you know it. Four years as Commander of the Second Army, of working with me and you couldn’t come up with an alternative? Do you get joy out of nearly getting yourself killed?”

“No,” she hissed. “You would’ve done the exact same thing without a moment of hesitation, don’t act like you wouldn't have.”

“It doesn’t matter what I would’ve done. What matters is that you shouldn't have done it in the first place.”

“I’m a single soldier, I’m expendable. The intel we gathered, my unit, the crew, they weren’t. It was an easy choice, one I’d make again.”

“For Saints sake, you’re not expendable Zoya!” he burst out. Why was she so convinced that she was?

“I was there to lead them--to protect them. If you’re worried about being down a general, you know there are more than capable replacements for me, Nikolai. ”

“You’re not replaceable! I don’t need anyone else. I need you, Zoya!” The words were breathless, and once they were out he couldn’t reel them back in.

His words hung in the air before she began to nod slowly, as if she had been expecting the outburst, “as your general.” It wasn’t a question, but it was.

“Yes, but it’s more than that.” Why was he having such difficulty saying it? How did he explain the all encompassing nature of his feelings to Zoya? Brave and beautiful Zoya, with her eyes hesitantly, maybe even hopefully trained on him? Nikolai wanted to take her into his arms and explain that ever since they’d been dragged into the Fold by Saints, he had felt a connection to her, that he could taste the ice wine they shared on quiet nights, smell her signature scent of wildflowers on the wind wherever she was near. He wanted to tell her that he felt a connection between them, as palpable as a golden thread binding them together, and wondered if she felt it too. Nikolai desired to tell her that at her departure, he had felt like the thread had been pulled and pulled until he couldn’t breathe, only for it to suddenly snap back like an elastic at the news of her return, an overwhelming sensation of longing overtaking his senses. He wanted to tell her that when he first saw her today, it had felt like someone had pierced his chest with a lance, an agony rivaling only what he’d felt when being impaled by the thornwood that day in the Fold, the same day he’d felt his fate be irreversibly bound to hers. He wanted so much, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward in his chair, uttering words he could never take back.

“I want you. I want you all the time, Zoya.”

“You want me, but will you have me? Are you not bound to your duty as king to choose the best person for your country?” To anyone else her face would appear impassive but he knew the way her eyes widened slightly, the way her lips parted, when she was holding her breath, afraid to hope that something was true. She wanted it to be true.

“If my country and I are one and the same,” he began, taking her hand in his, “then I shall only give it what it most deserves, and hope I am worthy of it too.”

“Can you let yourself do that?” “A king can do as he pleases, can’t he?” She turned away at those words, and Nikolai reached out, cupping her face and bringing her gaze back to him. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t stay. I thought we both knew what was right at the time, and it’s clear that we were both wrong.” “Go on,” she whispered, her shining eyes locked on his. “I don’t want you to leave again. I want you here, by my side, for as long as time will let me, if that’s what you want.” “What are you proposing?” Her hand slid up to his and she leaned further into his touch. “A coquettish courtship, a exuberant engagement, a whirlwind wedding and when all that’s said and done,” he angled his head towards hers, “hopefully many, many years of peaceful and quiet companionship.” “Sounds perfect,” Zoya breathed, her gaze trained on his lips, “except for one thing.” Nikolai pulled back, afraid that he’d alarmed her, “what?” She wrapped her arm around the back of his neck, pulling him down towards her, “you expect me to believe that a single moment with you will be quiet.” “I can think of several ways you can shut me up if I ever get to be too much. I think you’ll find that I am easily--” Zoya crashed her lips against his, and despite the harsh words she always seemed to have readily on hand, he felt her smile against him. For once in his life, Nikolai let himself relax, knowing that the rest of the world would still be there when they were ready to face it, together.

#zoyalai #zoyalai fic #row fic #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #my writings

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ivyglow · 4 years ago

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Number 5 with mat pwease 🥺👉👈

From Valentine’s day prompt: 5. 💐 “You got me flowers? How cliche, I loved it!”

word count: 1.7k + (I got carried away, sorry) 😬

warnings: it’s not proof read lol and it’s angsty but with fluff ending, hope you like it! ❤️

Mat was supposed to be home on Sunday morning, which means he would be able to spend February 14th with you, or so you thought because on Saturday he called to tell you that there was a delay on his flight, and part of the team was stuck in the airport until Monday. It was your first Valentine’s together so of course, you were kinda sad. Since the beginning, you two were very clear with the ‘pains’ of dating an NHLer, but you still wanted to try, and what a great thing you did because although the distance was on somedays almost unbearable, the meeting right after was amazing. And for the first time, you really felt like the saying “absence makes the heart grow fonder” was somehow true.

On Saturday, when he called you -really, voice call, not facetime- you thought he would keep talking, and even tell you he would make up for it -like he did when he missed your Family’s annual barbecue- but Mat just told you what was happening and hung up. He didn’t explain everything, just told you there was a problem, his flight was delayed and that was it. You knew his way of saying ‘I love you’ was telling you to take care, or asking you about your plans for the day, but he did nothing of it during the call and for a second you were afraid he was waiting for Valentine’s day to be over so he could break up with you, but you were quick to shake these thoughts off your head and go on with your day. Taking the opportunity to finish his gift, you wrapped everything carefully and placed a handwritten letter inside, you tried cleaning the house and baking to distract, going as far as watching The Bachelor, but Mathew was the only person able to make it sounds funny. Sighing you unlocked your phone calling someone you knew would know almost exactly how you were feeling.

It took only two rings for her to answer with a cheerful tone and you frowned, “Hey, honeybun!”

“Hi, Syd, you sound excited,” you stated before explaining, “I mean, aren’t you sad?”

“Why would I be sad?”

“For spending Valentine’s without Martin?” you explained, but coming to think about it, you would understand if she wasn’t that shaken by the news, it wasn’t her first Valentine with Matt, they were married, they dated for years, they had the time to get used to distance, but they also had the time to experience the date together first.

“Huh?” she’s puzzled and you can almost picture her pout.

“The team’s flight delay…” what if he didn’t tell her yet!?

“Oooh,” it’s a noise of understanding, “yeah, sucks right?! But I’m sure we’ll see each other on Monday, and so will you and Barzy,” you fell silent and she understood the seconds of silence. “Aw, you’re sad, aren’t you?”

Shrugging you answered, “Are you busy right now?”

“No, I’m completely free for the rest of the night, you should come over, I’m gonna order your favorite and we can eat ice cream with cookies after,” Sydney did the job of being a big sister like no one else, and sometimes you wished to be her sister, you always wondered how it must feel to have siblings, other pieces of your family that fit right with you, that gives you comfort, and joy, but also stress.

“Right, I’ll take the wine. Be there in 15,” you tell her before hanging up.

15 minutes later you were at Sydney’s house venting about your situation with Mathew. She listened to everything and made sure to remind you that he wouldn’t break up with you, there wasn’t any reason to, according to her Mat loved you -even though you told her that he never said these three words-. By 10 pm you were deep into two wine bottles shared with your friend, now trying to watch a random romcom movie that was on TV. Truth is you were typing and deleting a message on your boyfriends chat, but nothing seemed right. What would you tell him? Maybe if you reminded him about the fact that you would spend Valentine’s away he would be feeling guilty, like he was missing out on you again. You typed again, this time sending a simple, “hey, how are things out there?” however the message wasn’t even delivered.

You were confused, but maybe his phone died and he was about to connect? Trying to forget you bought your attention back to the movie, or at least tried harder this time.

When the movie was over you unlocked your phone expecting a message from Mat but you were met with the same chat, the message wasn’t even delivered.

“What’s that you fidgeting since the movie began?” Sydney asks munching a cookie.

“Barzy is not answering my texts,” shifting your position on the couch you sighed. “The messages aren’t even being delivered.”

The blond shrugged and said, “Maybe he’s busy?”

“That never happened before,” you point out, “and it’s 10 pm,” it’s not a good argument, but somehow it made sense in your head. “I’m gonna call him,” it’s your final decision and before Sydney could stop you you tap at his name. It rings nonstop and goes straigth to voice mail.

He never not answered a call from you, unless he was on the ice, and he wasn’t on the ice at 10 pm without being in a game.

“What if something happened with him?” now you worried, it’s almost impossible to swallow the lump forming on your throat.

“Y/n, look at me,” Syd calls, “You’re dealing with a lot together and you’re also missing Mat, but he’s ok, maybe he’s just busy, or his phone is dead, or maybe he’s even gaming with the guys and didn’t notice it ring,” she’s good at reasoning, she also seemed so sure you almost asked if there was something she knew that you don’t, but choosing to just listen, you sight trying to relax your body.

You talk a little more about random topics, you can tell she’s trying to distract you, and right before midnight Syd tells you both of you should rest, she had something to do in the morning -to which she didn’t specified to you- and you would probably have a bosy day too -with what? You did not knew.

When you got home it was silent and dark, empty without Mat and even emptier with the realization he wouldn’t be there in the morning. You drank water and showered to get rid of the alcohol in your body before grabbing one of his shirts to sleep. His smell engulfed you into a deep slumber that was only interrupted in the morning by the buzzing of your door bell.

Groaning you grabbed your robe before making your way to the entrance while cursing. Who could possibly be at your door this early? When you swinged the heavy wood material open you frowned.

“Good morning, there’s a deliver to miss y/n,” he stated with a smile. There was a trolley in front of him with at least 6 or 7 jars of all kind of flowers, some which you didn’t even know the name.

“From who?” you ask, maybe it was Mat?!

“It doesn’t say in here and there’s no card,” the man shrugs and points at the flowers, “where can I put these, miss?”

“These?” you grimace.

“Yeah, all the eight vases are in your name.”

Still stunned you open the door wider and points to the coffee table. It takes him almost five minutes and when he’s done it’s like your whole living room was covered in flowers. They smelled amazing and you ran to your bedroom grabbing your phone, there would be probably a message from Mat with a cue about the vases, but when you unlock the device there’s nothing. You saw he read the messages but there wasn’t any reply. It was past 8 am on a Sunday, he could be sleeping, Mat wasn’t a morning person, you knew it, but still you almost felt sadness poll inside you, but before you were able to give it any space there was another buzz.

“What the hell?” you whispered walking to your entrance again. Maybe the man really got the flowers to the wrong person, there was another y/n at the fourth floor, you knew she was single, but still, maybe she was seeing someone? It wasn’t even five minutes after that man left the flowers at your living room, maybe he bump into the right y/n on his way out?

You swallowed before swinging the door open for the second time that morning, however you were not met with the trolley and the green uniform, but with a black suitcase, a suit and a face covered by another vase of flowers.

“I told him 9 vases, one from each month together, but I believe he forgot one,” you would recognize that husky voice and heavenly fragrance from miles away. “Happy Valetine’s, princess.”

“Oh my goodness,” your voice wobbly. You stressed yourself out the whole night thinking he wanted to break up with you, but he was just planning a surprise. As soon as he lowers the vase on the ground you jump into his arms lacing his waist with your bare legs, and although it’s cold inside Mat’s body is warm against your skin, it makes your shiver and bury your frace in the crook of his neck. How you missed that smell! “I thought you were going to leave me and was trying to let me down gently, omg.”

“I could never leave you, my love,” his voice is gentle and so is his hands caressing your back and hair. You sniff before looking at the flowers in the ground, trying to change the aura. “And you got me flowers!? How cliche, I loved it!” you feel his smile when he kisses your neck, his shoulders sagged in relief with your now happy and usual tone.

“What else do you love?” his question takes you by surprise because by the seriousness in his tone you could only think he was trying to get a point, but before you can rationalize it too much your lips are moving by itself.

“You.”

“That’s good, because I love you too,” he whispers before finally kissing your lips after so long away. It’s sloppy and full of smiles, and tongue and grabbing. Mathew loved you and there wasn’t any better Valentine’s gift than his words.

#valentines day prompts #blurbs #mat barzal #mat barza imagine #mat barzal fanfic #hockey imagine #nyisles #🍯 writing

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