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rowanaelinn · 1 year

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Wires - Chapter Ten

Hey everyone! Im so sorry for the wait. It’s a very short chapter, but it’s an important one! My inspiration for this story isn’t great, i’m very sorry for this. I hope you will enjoy it :)

Warnings: Mention of death | Word Count: 1,600

Even stuck in the world between dreams and real life, Aelin knew something was strange. She felt warm, and not in the way one did when they were comfortably wrapping blankets. No, as she woke up slowly, she felt arms around her. But even as the real world started to catch up to her, she realized that she wasn’t only wrapped up in blankets. Her face wasn’t resting on a pillow, but on something warm and hard.

Her eyes opened, and it took a few seconds to realize where she was. On whose chest her head was resting. Her head snapped up, taking in Rowan’s face. He was awake, his arms wrapped around her body and his eyes on her.

Shit.

This wasn’t a sight she had beheld in years. In their younger years, on the nights they happened to share a bed, they had always found each other in the night. They woke up that way, tangled into each other. Then, it had been a comfort. She’d always pretended to sleep a little longer, if only to enjoy his embrace for longer.

But today, it didn’t feel comforting.

Well, that was a lie. It did feel comforting, but she also felt a rush of anxiety course through her veins. She sat up, passing a hand over her face and through her hair.

“Aelin,” Rowan’s voice was deep, which meant he hadn’t woken up too long ago. He reached for her, a hand on her waist. “Are you alright?”

Was she?

She had told him yesterday. Told him about everything. He knew now. Knew about the accident, about her leg. About his own cousin. He knew the darkest stains on her soul, the way she had wished Rowan would have been hurt with her if only it meant she wouldn’t be alone. He knew the truth about what happened a few weeks ago, on how she had wanted those pills and alcohol to guide her into the afterworld.

He knew everything she had spent years hiding from the world, he knew the image she had built was false. And he was still here. He hadn’t run away, hadn’t left.

She looked behind her, at the man who had once meant everything to her, only to find herself hating him after. And now… Now, she had no idea where she stood. But she didn’t push his hand away, didn’t push him away as he sat behind her, not as he tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” He asked again.

“Why are you here?” She dared to ask.

“Usually when I’m in a bed it’s to sleep, though other times--”

She slapped his shoulder, “I can’t believe you just made that joke!” She could help it, she laughed. His face light up as he laughed too, shaking his head.

“It was just so easy.”

She rolled her eyes, her smile still spread on her face. She looked down at her hands for a second, before asking more seriously, “But why are you here? Why did you stay?”

His eyebrows furrowed for a second, and he looked down at where her nails picked on her skin. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because you hated me yesterday.”

“Yesterday I lacked information. I didn’t know everything.”

She bit on her lip, “So you’re here by pity, is that it?”

He leaned back, the frown deep on his face. “Don’t put words in my mouth, and don’t look for a fight.”

She pulled back, “That’s not what I’m doing.”

He sighed, eyes closing for a second before he said, “It scares me, too. To have you so close to me again. I know we haven’t… agreed on everything.” On whose fault the accident was, that was what he meant. “And I know it’s easier to avoid change but this isn’t happening today or in the days after. Aelin, there is no going back.”

She looked away, “What if I don’t want things to change?”

“You rather hate me?” She could feel the way his voice slightly quivered, feel the hurt behind it.

Did she? These past few days, hell, these past few months she had no idea what she truly felt. “I think it’s easier.”

He took it in, thinking and then asked, “But is it better for you?”

She knew she couldn’t lie. Not anymore. And even then, she had been good at lying to him. She shook her head. No, it wasn’t better for her.

A ragged breath escaped him, and he said, “I missed you, Aelin. So much. It was hard these past few years.”

She looked at him, at the vulnerability showing on the features she was so used to see hard. She swallowed and linked their hands together. “You said it. There’s no going back now.”

He smiled at her then. It was tentative, and yet sincere. “I’ll never let you go again.”

She hoped he wouldn’t, while at the same time hoping he would. Wouldn’t it be easier to hate him? Rather than to face all these strange feelings twisting her stomach?

But… She wouldn’t push him away. She would let him stay, and if he messed up… Then it’d be done. For good.

The thought was scary and overwhelming because…

---

“I fucked up,” she gasped the second her cousin opened the door. He was barely awake, his eyes not fully opened. Until she said those two words. Then, his eyes widened. She pushed him to enter the bedroom, only to find Lysandra barely awake as well on their bed. Though, Aelin hated her a little. Who the hell looked that good when waking up? Life was unfair.

“What did you ta—"

“He’s fucking back in my life,” she said, looking at him and allowing him to glimpse at her insecurities and fear.

“Rowan?” Lysandra gasped, shock and surprise in her voice as well as on her face. As if it was obvious Rowan was the only person who could make her feel that way. Maybe he was.

Aelin nodded, staring to bite on her nails until Aedion grabbed her wrist and pulled her hands away. He sat on the couch facing the bed. “Explain.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Yesterday… I was sleeping and he knocked on my door. He was so fucking drunk, and his room was too far for me to walk him there… I helped him, and then he saw my leg.”

“Fuck,” Aedion breathed.

“What happened?” Lysandra asked.

She looked at her friend then, and tears started to pool in her eyes. “I told him about the accident, even things I’d never… I couldn’t say those things to anyone, and yet I told them to him. Then I told him about the night you found me,” she told Aedion, and hurt flashed in his eyes. And then, he cried with me. And now, he doesn’t want to let me go anymore.”

The couple shared a look Aelin couldn’t decipher.

“How do you feel?” Aedion asked her, as if that was what mattered then.

But then, maybe it did.

She shrugged, “I don’t know. I’m afraid and fucking excited, too.”

Lysandra smiled and stood, coming to stand on Aelin’s other side. She grabbed her hand, the gesture of a friend trying to help ease her anxiety. “I think it’s a good thing,” she said with deliberate carefulness.

Aelin snapped her head toward her. Lysandra had never met Rowan, but she’d heard the little stories Aelin had told her. And Aedion himself had a rivalry going on with Rowan, as well as an explosive past because of their family. Lysandra had never been the Whitethorn’s biggest fans according to those stories. And things hadn’t changed. Rowan’s dad had… He had ruined it all. “What?”

Lysandra threw a look at Aedion and then returned her gaze on Aelin. “Alright, nobody else will say it so I will. You’re a mess, Aelin,” she said with gentleness, as if she wasn’t criticizing her. “But lately… It’s been worse. And we,” another look toward Aedion. “Noticed that it usually happened when he’s around, you know? Aelin… I didn’t know you back then, but your cousin did and from everything that he’s told me,” she took a deep breath, squeezing Aelin’s hand again. “You loved him. Maybe you still do, least of all as friends. What happened that night was tragic, but whosever fault it was, it’s neither yours nor Rowan’s.”

Aelin tried to not show any reaction at that word. Love. Because it wasn’t what she’d felt for Rowan as a teenager, at least not in the romantic sense of it. It’d been too different from what she’d felt for Chaol and her other former boyfriends for it to be love.

Aedion straightened beside her, as if he disliked the sound of this as much as she did.

Lysandra kept going. “You two have been punishing each other for years over something that affected you, but wasn’t caused by you. You were deeply hurt, and it was normal for you to react that way but… It’s been years, Aelin. Now, it’s time to heal.”

She shook her head, tears burning in her eyes. Then, one escaped as she said, “You don’t get it.”

“Tell us, then,” Aedion asked, a hand on her knee.

“I’d be betraying dad if I went back to a Whitethorn.”

“No,” Aedion said, stopping her immediately from keeping on going. “You think that if uncle Rhoe woke up today and saw you high and drunk and angry and fucking suicidal he’d be happy? He wouldn’t give a shit of who you spend your time with, as long as his little daughter is happy. And you’re not. I’ve tried to help you, but I can’t… But if he can make you happy, even if I still hate the prick, run for it. You deserve it.”

Tears were streaming down her face and she hugged him. And he hugged her back. When she pulled away, she looked at the both of them and asked for confirmation, although she had known that from the moment she woke up in Rowan’s arms again, “It’s a good thing, then, right?”

Lysandra smiled. “It’s a good thing, Lin. That night didn’t have to take that from you.”

••••••

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @elentiyawhitethorn // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy // @danibutterr // @endlessdaydream // @thegreyj // @gracie-rosee // @acreativelydifferentlove // @cretaceous-therapod // @louphantomdragon // @mis-lil-red // @backtobl4ck // @whoever-you-choose-to-love // @lemonade-coolattas // @mad-madeline-ace // @the-introverted-bibliophile // @leiawritesstories // @emilyoftheshadows // @anniesbookshelf // @rainbowcheetah512 // @astra-ad-mare // @story-scribbler // @superspiritfestival // @wordsafterhours // @rowaelinrambling // @black-daisy-water // @fireheart-violet // @livsdriverslicense // @charlizeed // @ladykreads // @mariamuses // @autumnbabylon // @justreadertings // @highqueenofelfhame // @earthtolinds // @bowdawn

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #throne of glass fanfiction #wires #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #rowan and aelin

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soccerwag · 1 year

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Hey! Im real soory to bother but can you write something fluff for vinicius jr like your first date or something anything will be fine really if you cant or dont feel like it please feel free to ignore this <33

Yes I will 🤭🫶🏼 I hope you like the way I interpreted it. I also know it’s kinda short this is my first time but I’m sure they’ll get longer the more I practice!

Summary: You and Vini have been friends for a while. You’ve had a crush on him for a while now but never mentioned it out of fear of ruining your friendship. Just recently he had opened up to you about his feelings for you and now today was the day you and him were going on your first date.

Warnings: None

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

I’m so stressed right now! I have no clue what to wear, how to do my hair or makeup or what shoes to wear! If I’m being honest I’m so nervous that I don’t even remember what time he said he was going to be here.

I’ve liked Vini since we were 13. At first I tried pushing the feelings away, pretend that they weren’t even there but eventually that was just not something I could do. Although I never put right told him I liked him I’m sure it was obvious to our other mutual friends that I did. It honestly kind of shocked me when he told me he’s liked me for a while now too. All this time I’ve been thinking it was one sided and when really it never was.

I was so engrossed in my panic and anxiety that I didn’t even hear the front door open. I was still in my pajamas. My hair was still a freak show and I haven’t gotten the chance to freshen up.

“Well don’t you look gorgeous straight out of bed.” I heard a familiar voice say behind me.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Shit Vini, I didn’t expect you to be here so soon.” I covered my face from embarrassment.

“I couldn’t figure out what to wear because I wanted to look my best for you but everything I tried on I hated.” I rambled on, starting to work myself up again.

“Hey, hey, hey, you look gorgeous all the time, you could be wearing a huge T-shirt covered in food and a pair of sweatpants and I’d still think you looked absolutely stunning.

I didn’t know how to react, I was calmed immediately, my anxiety washed away and my tension soon let up.

“Vini…you know just how to make me feel better.” I smiled and gave him a hug.

“Why don’t we just have a cute little movie date here.” Vini suggested.

“Honestly that would be great.” I said with another smile tugging on my face again.

He picked me up bridal style and carried me to the living room.

“What movie do you want to watch princesa.”

“Princess and the frog.”

I laid my body on top of his and just engulfed myself in my body warmth.

We ate so much popcorn and candy I thought I personally was going to explode. I was starting to doze off to sleep but the last thing I heard before I hit slumber was,

“Thank you mi vida, for being you, one day soon I’ll tell you I love you while you’re awake but for now to not scare you I’ll say it while you sleep.” Vini said while stroking my hair and I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

————————————————————————

Vini after bagging you

#vini jr #imagine #book blurb #fluff #soccer #vinicius junior

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ihavenoideahowtodream · 7 months

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26: "honestly why would I care?"

Fanfic of OFMD ed x stede

Rating: M/E

Cw: violence, like a lot-but I tried not to be too graphic, mention of blood, injury, swearing, alcohol, mentions of death including murder, guns. (I think that is all, if someone notices something I didn't tag promise I just missed it, please dm and I'll add it to the cw list, this is my first fanfic ive posted so im not entirely sure how cw tags work)

26 "honestly why would I care?"

This is why he had to kill him. He made him weak. This was the second time they had been captured together and of course he had stayed with him.

Stede was slumped over in the corner, a green bruise forming on his temple where he had been hit by the butt of the rifle. Ed looked at his boots. Stede left. He hated Stede. He wanted to hold Stede while he was injured and he hated himself for that. Its good Stede was fucked up. Maybe he would die of the injury and it would solve all of Ed's problems. He was Blackbeard for fucks sake. Why did this little frilly man undo him like this? And then Ed looked at Stede again. A mistake. Stede looked like this when they met. Unconscious and injured.

He was very aware of Stedes breathing when he realized that his breaths became quicker. He was waking up. The Spanish had been wise and chained them to the wall of the ship. Bolts he imagined went through to the hull based off the size of the bolts coming out of the wall. He pretended to be extremely interested in them when Stede finally came to.

"Ed?" He said in that weak voice that calmed the turmoiltus storm in Ed's soul. That made Ed angry so he ignored Stede and continued to be extremely interested in this extremely boring bolt.

"Ed?" Stede asked again. His voice stronger now. He was awake fully now which violently annoyed Ed.

"Ed?!"

Ed side eyed Stede with the bitchiest look he could conjure but he was so handsome covered in other men's blood and his torn emerald green silk shirt that Ed quickly looked away.

"Oh, Ed, please look at me."

Ed physically shifted his body so his back would be to Stede. A rather awkward action as his leg was broken and both his hands chained to the wall at a point that stretched his arms up just high enough that it rather pinned him to the wall in one way, back flat against the wall and facing Stede. He still managed it but it was an incredibly choppy and painful movement. But it was better than looking at the only man who ever managed to break his heart.

"Ed, darling..."

"Hrummph" came Ed's response.

"Is your leg broken?" Stede asked in that gentle voice of his. The only gentle voice Ed had never felt was trying to take advantage of him.

"What do you care?" Came the terse answer, though it was rather muffled as Ed's face was directly into the wall.

"Ed, darling, please. Give me a moment to explain myself." Came the voice from behind him. That voice so polished and pleasant. And painful. That voice that once said that Ed made him happy. That voice that lied.

"Whats there to explain? Honestly, why should I care? You made your decision rather obvious. Honestly, why are you even here?"

"I'm here because, well, black Pete insisted we try this jam at a stall and well I'm always on the look out for a good jam then the Spanish attacked and well um they ended up putting us both in the same - ya know what, it doesn't matter."

"Ugh!" Came the muffled groan from the most feared pirate on the 7 seas. "Of couse you got captured for jam."

"I was looking for you, Ed."

"Whatever for, Stede. You don't have anything to say to me. And don't call me that. Ed. Thats only for my *closest* friends. Which you aren't. Never were." Came the muffled reply.

"Well yes we got a bit distracted by the jam. But we were in port because I heard a rumor you were there. And we need to talk. Me and you."

"Whats there to talk about? You left. Now you're back. La. De. Dah."

"Ed."

The silence that followed weighed heavy on both of them and Ed finally gave into his desire to look at Stede. Spinning his head around at a rather awkward angle he finally looked at Stede again.

The absolute bastard had the audacity to look beautiful. The silk shirt was open and ripped in annoyingly slutty places. The blood of the men he'd killed framed his face almost delicately, the scarlet color bringing out the blue in his eyes, the emerald shirt elegantly contrasting his blonde hair that now included a rather dashing beard and mustache.

Stede thankfully took Ed's silence as an act of contriteness and not as an inability to form a complete sentence due to his besotted state.

"Ed."

Ed snapped out of it when he realized he couldn't kiss this man again.

"You came back" Ed snarled.

"I never left." And that's when he felt Stede tap his foot. Looking to their feet Stede's boot rested against Ed's good foot.

Ed shuffled himself back around so he would be properly sitting again but still wouldn't look properly at Stede pulling his feet away from the reach of Stede's feet. A bit of a painful process with the one broken leg but he gritted his teeth and hoped Stede didn't see the tears well in his eyes when his foot landed at a bad angle.

"Why?" Ed asked.

Stede's answer was cut short by the sound of gunfire. The lock had been blown off the door.

The door swung open to show Jim standing in the door way with a smoking pistol. Olu's voice echoed behind them, "Jim, we have the keys." Olu shuffled around the trigger happy assassin and pulled out the keys and began unchaining both captains.

"Sorry for the wait captains the plan went a bit awry but we've managed to pull most of it off but we'd best git quickly before Roach and Frenchy accidentally-"

*BOOM* Echoed through the ship tossing it sharply starboard.

"Nevermind, they already did it." Olu sighed. "Come on captain."

"I can walk, Ed needs help" said Stede with concern in his voice.

"Alright then, I'll cover you two getting Blackbeard off the ship. But we need to hurry before it fuckin sinks because of those fucking imbéciles."

They pulled two more pistols seemingly out of thin air and marched forward.

Olu put Ed's left arm over his shoulders as Stede did the same with his right. They began carrying him down the hall. The rat bastard Stede had the AUDACITY to smell good too. Like old leather and vanilla and black tea. So close to him, their faces almost touching. Olu was also rather close but he did rather smell like old tobacco smoke and gunpowder.

The foray was rather impressive in the background with the rushing and flooding water that was turning red with blood of the people Jim was rather violently killing in front of them. Olu shouting encouragement and praise at Jim like, "nice throw!" And " that was very sexy the way you shot that guy without looking at him!" Jim would glance back with a smile and stab another person.

He ignored the lingering thought that it must be nice to have a supportive partner who encouraged and praised your hobbies and career successes.

"Ed?" He heard in his right ear again. "Ed, I was wrong. What I did. I know I had to do it to get some clarity but it made me realize what I wanted."

They lifted Ed over the pile of bodies that littered the stairs to the deck. Ed was in a lot of pain.

"Ed, please say something."

"I am in a lot of pain."

Stede grabbed a bottle of rum from a pirate who was being stabbed by a Spaniard.

"Here this will help numb the pain."

Ed drank the bottle as fast as possible. It was nearly 3/4 full. It did help dull the pain in his leg at least but did nothing to help the feeling of being eaten alive from inside his chest out.

By the time they got to the waiting dingy the deck had nearly sank to the surface of the ocean. Rather conveint as Ed would not have been able to climb down a ladder.

"Hop in captains!" Urged Fang brandishing the oar.

They crawled and stumbled into the dingy. Stede first and Olu nearly dropped Ed into the dingy. Unable to steady himself Ed found himself falling onto Stede resting his body on Stede's starkly bare chest (his shirt somehow becoming more ripped in the foray) and his face only a few inches from Stede's. Olu hopped in and Jim pushed them off from the ships side. Fang and Olu began rowing as fast as they could while Jim dove head first into the brink swimming for another dingy containing the two morons who preemptively blew up the ship, and they felt it rather important to cuss them out in Spanish while brandishing an astonishing amount of knives as soon as possible.

Ed tried to adjust himself so he was no longer so close to Stede only to find Stede was holding him around the waist.

"Don't move too much. You've a broken leg and I'm quite certain our little stroll did not improve it."

Ed tried to make a grunting sound but to his horror it sounded more like a whimper.

"Ed. I love you. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. You've always had me. You always will."

"You've lied to me before. How do I know you're not now."

"Well, you don't, I suppose. You'll just have to trust me. But I swear to you," Stede shuffled himself so he would be holding Ed slightly more comfortably and less like a nurse and more like a lover. "I'm good on this promise."

Ed couldn't hold it in anymore.

He kissed Stede like he need it to breathe.

He then passed out in Stede's arms cause the rum mixed the extreme pain finally got to him. He felt at peace for the first time in a long time cradled in his lover's arms.

#fictober23 #fanfic #ofmd #cw: violence #like a lot sorry #cw: injury #cw: death #cw: murder #cw: battle #I tried to make it equally graphic to the show #stede bonnet #ed x stede #ed teach #cw: guns

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honeydewcoldbrew · 1 year

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1/31/2023

how come when i get close to someone i immediately feel claustrophobic? Am i some sort of monster who thrives on being alone. I just feel the responsibility for everyone so deeply. I don't want to disappoint anyone so i rather not communicate with anyone. I rather sit with my movies and my books and give myself my own company.

I miss him so much i could cry just thinking about it. Why do i not trust myself and my intuition. Why do i forgive the most vile people ever. I just feel lonely and sometimes i like it and sometimes i hate it.

I care too much about what people think of me and i’m ashamed of the bridges i’ve burned. Why does the cost of self respect equals loneliness? why couldn’t i have been born attractive and lovable and have people be utterly obsessed with me.

I cant wait to die sometimes. My isomnia is solely a result of having the reality of waking up tomorrow. When i wake up tomorrow im going to be hit with a pang of deep deep regret that i didn’t die. I do feel better once the night comes around because no one is awake and i feel like im in my own world. sometimes i fantasize about shooting myself in the head to fall asleep.

I cant afford a gun and i’m not sure if im ready to kill myself just yet. Maybe something good will happen soon, so i think i can stick it out longer to see. I dont care about therapy or drugs they never worked or helped. Im tired of people telling me to get help because i did and it did absolutely nothing. therapy doesnt fix the face that i get the burden of living in this vessel.

I close my eyes and i picture myself walking to a gun store and buying a gun. I imagine the conversations i have to put on with the person working there and pretending i know much more than i actually do. Then i picture myself walking out to my car and driving out somewhere isolated. I dont actually know of a place, i just have dreamed about it before.

Its in the middle of a forest and its deep deep deep in there. I do think this scenario is unfair because then my family and friends would spend weeks having to find me. So realistically i think i would just shoot myself behind my house.

i dont think innocent people deserve to see a dead body. i wonder what that does to someone’s brain.

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mypersonmyg · 3 years

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this is very pleasing to my interests thank you bh for making this for me specifically...yoongi (yoonkook?? 🤩😛) guitar live when 🧍🏻‍♂️🧍🏻

#the content i signed up for #my loves ™️#them 🧍🏻‍♂️🧍🏻#the way yoon just let guk play for a while and waited until he left 💕😭#also how on brand for them to be collecting the picks for the ground 😭😭#anways yoongi guitar live when??#i will pretend this is why im awake and not because my body hates me 🧍🏽‍♀️#also yes guk you sound lovely bub

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tendouluvr · 3 years

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aizawa calling you clingy - gn reader

- [attempt at] angst to fluff

- warnings: being called clingy, aizawa gets annoyed with reader and berates them, one use of the word ‘shit’

- wc: 1.9k

a/n: this wasnt......as sad as i wanted... i cant tell if im just not so good at writing angst or immune to it T_T

once again, not edited!

#! aizawa!!!! eee

#! hes a levelheaded man so arguments are rare

#! u both trust one another so theres no reason to have doubts in ur relationship

#! being his s/o, he tells u things thats not so easy to tell others over time, and you’re patient enough to let him take however much time he needs to let u in

#! however, years of keeping to himself most of the time doesnt just disappear even if you’re his s/o

#! so aizawa does have this tendency to close off and distance himself from u bc of his stress and insecurities

walking through the spacious halls of ua, you were headed towards your lovely boyfriend. aizawas been pretty busy lately with teaching his class, making sure no one is being left behind progress wise, doing his job as a pro-hero, and then spending his free time training with shinsou.

you knew showing up at school unexpectedly was something aizawa found irky, that’s why you made sure to tell him the night before that you would be coming during lunch time to bring him some yummy homemade food.

humming softly to yourself, you finally reached the door opening to class 1-A and walked in. the classroom was empty, but there at the front was no one other than mr. aizawa shouta. you quickly greeted him with a smile and he turned to look at you.

“what are you doing here?” he slowly asked with a look of confusion.

“i brought you some food! did you eat yet? i hope not, i made-,” you quickly stopped talking once you noticed the look he was giving you.

“why are you here? i already told you, you shouldnt be showing up without letting me know first. our relationship is quiet, if the students see they’ll get noisy and ask questions, i’ll get bombarded by my colleagues, and it’ll put you in danger if words get out. did anyone see you coming here? can you listen to me for once instead of continuing to always be near me? you’re so damn clingy and need to start thinking about the consequences your action will bring. i already ate, just go home before anything happens.”

your jaw dropped a little after hearing what he just said to you. did he not remember what you told him last night?

worst of all, you couldnt believe he just called you clingy. you just wanted to do something nice for him by making his favorite food hoping that it’ll relieve some of the stress thats been building up, but he just thought of you as clingy.

fine, if clingy is what you are then you’ll stop bothering him. you quickly whispered an apology, not sure if he could hear or not, and began making your way back home as fast as possible. the food you made for him was still tightly grasped in your hand.

due to the new dormitories, aizawa stays at ua majority of the time. he comes home to your shared apartment whenever he can to spend time with you. unfortunately, those time aren’t usually much because as soon as he’s free, he’s quick to do something else.

once you’ve made it home, you packed the food away and put it in the fridge. you felt your phone buzzing repeatedly, already guessing who it could possibly be, you took it out to see it was your boyfriend.

shou <3: im sorry

shou <3: honey, im so sorry. pls text me back when u can

shou <3: i know what i said hurted u, but i promise u i dont mean it. pls just call me or text me so we can talk about this

shou <3: i have to go back now. but i love u. so much.

staring at your screen, you contemplated texting him back.

letting out a sigh, you decided not to.

putting your phone to the side, you walked to the bedroom and changed out of your clothes into the comfy pjs you were wearing right before you left.

seeing that there was nothing for you to do other than wallow in your insecurities and let out a few tears, you got into bed and made yourself comfortable for an afternoon nap.

aizawa on the other hand was at school and distracted. his own words kept replaying over and over in his head and all he wants to do is smack himself a few times (after comforting u ofc).

his students could tell he was in a badder mood than usual so they collectively agreed to not worsen it (one particular student does not care. can u guess?). aizawa just wanted the day to pass so he can apologize to you directly and make it up with some cuddling.

despite being distracted with planning his apology and thinking about you, he was still teaching as he should and constantly telling his students to be quiet because he’s intimidating like that.

a few hours passed, the students are back in their dorms and some of the teachers are still in school finishing up some work. the hallways were empty and silent, and the weather outside was nice and calm - not too sunny with just the right amount of wind.

however, if you were to peek your head inside of class 1-A at the moment, the environment is an exact 180. aizawa is quickly trying to grade the remaining stack of papers he has on his desk so he can leave as soon as he can. there’s papers everywhere, he’s not so sure where the answer key went off to but to hell with the answer key. he just needs to go home.

his hair is messily tied up and his lips have probably been gnawed off by now. as soon as school ended, he got out his phone to see if you replied and sadly you didn’t. he doesn’t blame you though, considering all of the shit he said to you earlier.

finally writing down the fat score in red pen onto the final paper, he gathers everything and put to the side of his desk and packed up his stuff. his stuff being his yellow sleeping bag and that’s it.

he went to his room first to clean himself up a bit, and then grabbed a taxi to go to your shared apartment. arriving at the front door, he takes out his copy of the key and entered.

first thing he noticed while entering and taking off his shoes was that the apartment was dark and quiet. he made his way to the kitchen first and turned on its lights to check the fridge. in the fridge laid the food you made for him earlier today. he took it out to start heating it up in the microwave then he walks away from the food and to your bedroom.

quietly opening the door, he poked his head in to see you laying on your side with your back facing the door. he assumed you were asleep and gently closed the door to not wake you up. he made his way over to the bed and sat on the edge of it.

you, feeling the bed dip, slowly opened your eyes to be greeted with the sight of your boyfriend gingerly brushing his fingertips across your cheekbones. he notices that you’re awake and looks up to meet your eyes.

making eye contact with him, you quietly grunted and brought the blanket up to cover your face while turning your entire body to the other side to ignore him. aizawa sighed and brought his hand down to rest on your waist as he begins talking.

“yn... i know you’re.. mad at me for the things i said to you earlier, but i’m truly sorry. i know saying i didn’t mean it isn’t good enough for you to forgive me, but i want you to know i’m really really sorry. i’ve been so busy for the past few days, my head is all over the place, seeing you at school just got me overthinking and worried that i ended up saying things about you that’s not true at all. i love you so much, hun. you’re the best thing to happen to me. you don’t have to forgive me now, i understand if you want some space.”

it was silent for some time after he finished his apology. the echoing silence was slowly making aizawa worried that you’ll leave him, but he won’t tell you that. thinking that you wanted space, he lifted his shaky hand off of your waist and moved to get off of the bed when you suddenly grabbed onto his hand to keep him there.

“i...i told you the day before that i was going to be visiting you during lunch time. did you not remember? or even hear me tell you?”

aizawa situated himself back down onto the bed before replying. “if i’m being honest, i don’t really remember much of that day at all. my brain was occupied with work and rest, so i was practically drained by the end of the night. i’m sorry i took it out on you, it’s my fault for overworking when i know you’ve been trying to help.”

letting out a soft sigh, you turned your body back towards him. still holding onto his hand, you carefully slotted your fingers in between his and pulled him down to lay with you. he immediately found comfort in this and placed his head into your neck. you could feel his facial hair against your skin making you let out a quiet giggle.

“i love you. i know you have a habit to overwork since that’s all you did before we dated, but please shou, take care of yourself. im not talking physically, cuz you’re already so damn fine, but mentally. i hate seeing you bury yourself in work and training that it even makes me tired just watching you.”

he grumbled something against your neck - his usual reaction to you complimenting him - and held onto you tighter while putting light kisses on your collarbone.

“i know. i will. please bear with me, i know i’m a pain but i’ll always try to be my best for you. i’m never letting you go, love you too much for that.”

“hmm? who said i’m going? you’re stuck with me forever just so you know,” you laughed and patted his head before rising from the bed.

“i heard you heating up the food earlier. get up and come eat,” you tugged aizawa to get him off the bed.

he grumbled once again because he was being forced to leave the warm comfort of your shared bed, but followed you out anyway holding onto your hand.

“wait. you heard me entering? so you were pretending to sleep when i got here?! not funny, babe. not funny. -also don’t take sleep for granted. i did and look where that got me. stop laughing!”

bonus:

it was the next day and aizawa just finished passing out the grades he rushed grading yesterday. even though it was rushed, he was confident that there wasn’t any mistakes-

“aizawa sensei, you marked this question wrong when it’s right. this one too. and this other one on the last page. are you trying to fail me?!” denki dramatically wailed as he showed aizawa his papers.

guess he did make mistakes after all.

1K notes · View notes

naturallytom · 3 years

Text

Mending a Broken Heart (Tom Holland x reader, alternative part)

a/n: me? writing? unheard of. jk im tryin to get back into the groove!! this is an alternate version to Mending a Broken Heart, so some parts are the same and some I’ve edited or added some things! hope u enjoy!!

warnings: language, angst, mentions of cheating

please reblog/leave feedback!!

picture not mine!

You had noticed it for months. Tom has been pulling away, spending more time out with the boys than at home with you. His kisses became forced and the words ‘love you’ slowly stopped falling from his lips.

Most days he would leave for work before you woke up and on the rare occasion you were up when he left, he would mumble a ‘goodbye’ before walking out the door. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he would press a gentle kiss to your forehead. Most times, though, he would just leave.

You did your best to keep the love alive, you were still madly in love with him. The wedding band that sat tightly on your ring finger mocked you. A symbol of what was love has turned into one sided love. Hell, you weren’t sure if Tom wore his wedding ring anymore.

A quick glance to his left hand would reveal that he didn’t.

You spent your nights wondering if it was something you did. Were you too clingy when he left to film? Was he just tired of you after four years of marriage? Did he find someone else?

No. You shook your head to yourself one night as you laid in the bed by yourself, the space usually occupied by Tom cold. If he found someone else and if he cheated, that’s on him. Not on you.

Still, the thought plagued your mind. Did he meet someone else? Was she prettier than you? Is that where he was when he said he was out with the boys? Was she able to give him something you couldn’t give him?

The door opening and shutting alerted you that Tom was home. You sighed, knowing it’d be another night of sleeping on opposite sides of the bed.

The door to the bedroom opened and in came Tom, Tessa jumping up to greet him.

“Hey girl, hey love, how are you, hm?” He whispered, petting Tessa as his eyes flickering over to you, who was visibly awake. “Thought you’d be asleep by now. ‘S late.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You replied simply. “Hey so I was thinking, we haven’t had a date night in a while, maybe you wanted to go out to see the Halloween decorations around town and get dinner tomorrow night?”

“Can’t,” He shook his head as he got ready for bed. “Harrison wants to watch the game. Told him I’d go.”

“Didn’t you just see Harrison tonight?”

“Yeah, and?”

“Nothing.” You sighed, obviously upset. “Nothing, Tom. Goodnight.”

“Night.” He responded, turning out the light and climbing into bed, falling asleep with his back toward you.

The next day, you were surprised to see Tom already awake and waiting in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of tea when you got downstairs.

“Good morning.” You smiled softly.

“We need to talk.” He told you. You felt your heart drop and your palms get sweaty, but you wiped them on your pajama pants in an effort to seem totally calm and not panicked.

“A-About what?” You asked, your voice coming out shaky.

“I think,” Tom started. “I think we should get divorced.”

It was then, at 8:30 am that your world came crashing down.

“W-What?” You whimpered out, your voice weaker than before. “Why?”

“I’m not happy with you anymore.” He said simply. Your eyes flickered to his left hand, noticing the absence of the golden wedding band, making your heart ache.

“We can try couples’ therapy. We can go on dates like we used to, Tom, please! We can fight for this, Tom. Fight for us.” You cried, your heart shattering into a million tiny pieces, each one puncturing your lungs as you struggled to keep your breath under control.

“No,” He shook his head. “My mind is made up. I’m sorry, y/n. Um, I found a lawyer at a firm, they have a lot of other lawyers there you can contact. I’ll just, uh, leave their card here.”

“So that’s it? Three years of dating and four years of marriage down the drain?” You sobbed, holding your knees to your chest as you sat on the kitchen floor.

“I’m sorry, y/n. Truly, I am.”

He placed the small business card on the counter, grabbing the bags you didn’t even notice, mumbling an ‘I’ll be staying with Haz,’ before walking out the front door, like he did every other day. This time, though, you had the sinking feeling he was leaving for good.

It was only three weeks that your lawyer came over to meet with you, joined by Tom and his lawyer. You kept your eyes focused on the table as you signed the paperwork, wanting to get this done as soon as possible.

As soon as everyone left, you shut the door, slid down the back of it, and cried.

Nearly two months after the worst day of your life and it was time for a self care night. The ring that once sat on your left hand was buried away in your jewelry box somewhere and you were finally starting to feel free and somewhat happy again after crying yourself to sleep and wondering where it all went wrong for months.

After the divorce you buried yourself in work, using it as a distraction from going home to an empty house. You also moved out of the house you once called home. Not only was it too painful to go home to an empty house, but it was too painful to go home to a house that held so many happy and loving memories. You took the necessities along with some things you wanted with you and set yourself up in a hotel room for the time being. You treated it as a vacation. Except only a few people knew where you were. Your family knew, along with your friends, including Harrison, on the condition he didn’t tell Tom where you were. You started making time for yourself in your little hotel room and you became happier.

Tonight, after a long day of work, you ordered your favorite Chinese food, played your favorite songs, and ran yourself a bath with a vanilla scented bath bomb. You were enjoying a glass of wine, the hot water of the bath soothing you when the music playing from your phone was interrupted by a call coming in.

To your surprise, it was Tom. You contemplated answering it, but instead, let it go to voicemail. However, you were curious as to why he called, though you were also 99% positive it was a pocket dial. So you played the voicemail, the familiar voice ringing throughout the bathroom.

“Hey y/n, um, I hope you’re doing well. I just called because I wanted to tell you something. I um, I miss you. A lot. And I know I don’t get to feel that way but I do and I just wanted to tell you that and I guess ask if there was any possibility of meeting to talk? Uh, call me back if...if you want. I don’t blame you if you hate me. Bye. Love y-”

You turned off the voicemail before the phrase could be finished. Millions of thoughts filled your mind, ranging from happy ones to ones that made your heart ache and tears fill your eyes.

You decided to ignore it, pretend it never happened, and enjoy your self care night.

When Tom pulled up to his former house with flowers in his car and a pit of nerves in his stomach, he expected to see your car in the driveway and at least one light to be on. He was greeted with an empty driveway and a dark house, which confused him. It was the weekend, so you weren’t work. Maybe you had to run an errand?

But after 20 minutes, he gave up hope that you were home and tried to call you, which to no surprise, you didn’t pick up again. He instead called Harrison in an effort to try and find out if he knew where you were.

“What do you want?” Harrison answered, half concentrating on what Tom was about to say and half concentrating on the game in front of him.

“Do, uh, do you know where y/n is?” Tom asked, taking Harrison by surprise.

“y/n?” Harrison paused the game, suddenly not able to concentrate on it. “Why d’you want to know where y/n is?”

“I just want to talk to her.” He mumbled.

“If I knew that’s where you were going I wouldn’t have let you go.” Harrison sighed. “Listen she made me swear that I wouldn’t tell you-”

“Please Harrison? You’ve seen how much of a mess I’ve been. I just want to see if I have a shot.” Tom begged, making his friend cave.

“Fine but if she moves again I won’t be telling you shit.”

The next day you were enjoying a cup of tea and reading your book, getting some relaxation in before your week began when a knock on the door interrupted you. Confusion filled your body, you weren’t expecting anyone to pop by.

Looking out the peephole, you froze at the sight that greeted you. Tom was standing outside your door, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands.

“Hi.” He breathed out, his nose and the tips of his ears red from the harsh winter air.

“How the hell did you find me?” You asked, keeping your eyes focused on the ground.

“Harrison. I begged him to tell me.” He answered.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You muttered. “What do you want?”

“Can..Can I come in?” He asked.

You wanted to say no, that he could say what he wanted to say outside or just not let him speak at all. But you wanted to be courteous to the other people on your floor and part of you was curious as to what he was going to say. So you wordlessly opened the door slightly, letting him in and closing the door behind him.

“Now what do you want?”

“Did you get my voicemail?” He responded, hope filling his eyes when you nodded. “Um, I brought these for you. I was hoping we could talk.”

“I don’t want your flowers. Why should I talk to you? We’re divorced, just like you wanted.” Tom winced at the words. “Nothing to change.”

“Actually, we’re not.” He corrected. “I called the office the other day. Um, it’s not official yet.”

“Well then they should make it official. Maybe I can call them and make it happen as my very last Christmas present to you. Just what you wanted.” You snapped.

“No, this isn’t what I want, can I speak, please?” He pleaded, his eyes resembling those of a puppy.

“You’re speaking already.” You answered, gesturing for him to continue nonetheless.

“I- How have you been? I stopped by the house-”

“Tom I’m not gonna listen to your small talk. Say what you have to say and leave.” You told him. His heart broke but he couldn’t blame you.

“Um, so I thought I wasn’t happy with you but um, as time went on, I realized how much I miss having you in my life.” He began, visibly nervous. “I was just looking through our pictures and how happy you looked and I just, I guess I realized I wanted to be the one to make you that happy again.”

“You haven’t made me happy in months, Tom.”

“I know.” His heart clenched. “I know and I’m so sorry, y/n. I really am.”

“Was there someone else? Did you cheat on me?” You asked.

“No, no absolutely not, y/n.” He answered before adding; “I went on a date with someone after we split up but it didn’t work out. I realized she wasn’t what I want.”

“Of course she wasn’t.” You scoffed.

“I want you, y/n. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy again.” He told you, tears filling your eyes. “Is there..is there any possibility you could love me again?”

“Again?” You seethed. “Tom I never fell out of love with you! I never stopped loving you! That was all you! You stopped loving me and you wanted this stupid fucking divorce!”

“I..I don’t think I ever stopped loving you either.” He whispered, tears falling down his rosy cheeks. “Please, y/n, if there’s even the tiniest chance..”

“Of what, Tom? Of going right back to being married? Of you making me happy? I don’t know, Tom! I don’t know anything except that I hate you right now.” You sobbed, crying into your knees while Tom let out quiet sobs of his own, his heart clenching at the lack of wedding band on your left hand and the lack of love in your voice, but especially your eyes. Your eyes, which once held so much love and adoration for him were now full of anger and resentment.

“Of..anything, y/n. Please, I just want a second chance to show you how much you mean to me, to make you happy again. I will do anything to save us, anything you want. And...and if it’s not working or you just really hate me, I wouldn’t blame you. Not at all.” He begged, his eyes puffy and red.

“I tried to save us, Tom. Don’t you remember? I begged and pleaded with you to do couples therapy to go on dates when you were breaking my heart into a million tiny pieces. I begged you to try and fight for us, for our marriage, but you just walked out the god damn door!” You spit through gritted teeth.

“I fucked up, I know. I fucked up so badly.” He cried, wiping his tears away.

“And if leaving me wasn’t enough, you took Tessa too! I was left completely alone in that big fucking house that was haunted by you. I couldn’t stand it.” You sobbed.

“I’m..I’m sorry, y/n. So so fucking sorry. What do you want me to do?”

“I want...I want you to hurt. I want you to hurt the way you hurt me. I want you to know how this fucking feels.” You said, your voice getting louder with each word that fell from your lips.

Tom could only cry. This was ripping him apart, he couldn’t even imagine what the whole thing felt like to you.

“I’m gonna need time to think, Tom.” You finally mumbled, Tom nodding in response.

“I’ll give you all the time you need. I promise you-”

“Don’t. Don’t promise me anything.” You spoke, your voice low. “You won’t be able to keep it. You promised you’d love me forever four years ago and look what happened.”

“y/n pl-”

“You don’t get to do this. You-you don’t get to just waltz right back in here and ask for a second chance to fight for us when I didn’t even get a first chance. How do I know this won’t end like it did before?”

“y/n, I swear to you, if this isn’t working out, you can leave me. I...I just want a chance to prove myself to you.” He begged.

“God, Tom. You don’t get it! I’m not going through this again. Do you realize how much you broke me the first time? Fuck, you had a chance, Tom. And you threw it away.” You muttered quietly.

“I regret that every day. Every god damn day.” He told you honestly.

“I don’t know, Tom.” You sighed.

“Talk to me?” He tried, knowing you were hiding something deeper than an ‘I don’t know.’

“Don’t know what else there is to say.” You mumbled. “I don’t trust you, I-I can’t trust you. I hate you.”

“Why’d you get a hotel room?” Tom sniffled, changing the subject.

“I told you. I hated being in that house. Hated being surrounded by the happy pictures and memories of us.” You told him honestly. “I want to start over.”

“What?”

“I want to start over. I can’t go back to being emotionally married to you even if we’ll still be married legally. I’m talking starting from scratch, as if we were meeting for the first time, the whole deal.” You told him.

“That sounds perfect, y/n. Thank y-”

“Get out, Tom. Please. I just want to be alone and not with you right now. I’m still not happy with you.”

“Okay.” He breathed out, hope filling him once again. “You won’t regret this, I promise.”

“What did I just say about promises?” You asked tearily.

“I know, I know. I’m determined to keep this promise, though.” He told you.

“Fine. Whatever. Just please leave for now.” You whimpered, watching as he walked out the door, just like he did when he broke your heart.

You decided you needed another self care night. Another bath was run, another vanilla scented bath bomb was used, more wine was consumed.

Tom texted you right as you got out of the bath.

Tom: hey y/n, it’s tom, just incase you don’t have my number saved anymore. I just wanted to say thank you for the second chance. I really am grateful. I hope you have a relaxing night, you deserve it.

You rolled your eyes and tossed your phone gently on your bed, though you could feel your heart rate pick up and butterflies fill your stomach.

Tom began texting you sweet little things each morning, whether it was to let you know that he’s been thinking of you or to tell you that he hopes you have a great day. At first you ignored them, but then you began responding in short answers of one or two words until the two of you were texting every day, like when you met for the first time seven years ago.

Over a month after you started texting again, Tom took you on a first date. Pulling up to your hotel, Tom felt the nerves fill his body as he walked up to your door and knocked, another bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand.

He felt all the air leave his lungs as you opened the door. You looked absolute stunning. You were wearing a navy blue dress that reached down to just above your knees, one Tom bought you one year.

“Wow, hi.” He breathed. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, accepting the flowers he handed you. “I’ll be right back.”

Tom took you to your favorite restaurant that night, one that the two of you frequented when you (formerly) went on dates.

When he took you back to your hotel, he walked you up to the door, where he nervously asked if he could kiss you.

You said yes, and that was all Tom needed to press a soft kiss to your lips. The kiss was magical, both of you felt the sparks between the two of you.

“God I missed doing that.” Tom mumbled as he pulled away to breathe.

“Then do it again.”

A couple months after that, Tom moved back in with you. You had gone back to the house every now and then, to slowly acclimate yourself to being back in the once happy house, only fully moving back when Tom moved back as well. The pictures of the two of you were dusted off, making your heart race instead of hurt at the sight of the happy memories.

Finally, after a year, Tom proposed to you (again). You hesitated a little bit, still scared it would end in heartbreak again, which broke Tom’s heart, but said you yes in the end.

The two of you renewed your vows, putting on the golden bands that were once again a symbol of the love the two of you shared.

You had a small party back at your house after the ceremony, your families joining to celebrate. You found Tom alone in the kitchen, grabbing a beer for him and Harry.

“Hey.” You greeted, fiddling with your fingers as tears of happiness filled your eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong, my love?” Tom asked, concerned as soon he saw the tears filling your eyes.

“Nothing, nothing. I, um,” You started, wiping your tears away and wrapping your arms around Tom’s neck. “I’m really glad we made it back to this.”

“Me too, lovey. I love you so much.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“You kept your promise.” You smiled softly, making Tom’s heart ache at the memory of you not being able to trust him.

“I told you I would.”

Your moment was interrupted by Harrison, who entered the kitchen, smiling at his two best friends happily in love once again.

“Aren’t you so glad I told him where you were staying?” He joked, making you roll your eyes.

“Shut up, Harrison.” You smiled. As your eyes flickered between Tom and Harrison, though, you knew you wouldn’t have been in this position if Harrison didn’t spill the beans to Tom.

“Hey Haz?” You called, as Harrison went to leave the kitchen in fake offense. He turned at the sound of his name, knowing what was coming.

“Thank you.” Tom nodded in agreement, his arm slipping around your waist.

Harrison just smiled even bigger, all three of you knowing everything would be okay from now on.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x female!reader

112 notes · View notes

vidalinav · 3 years

Note

im so happy you’re accepting prompts!! just know that there’s no pressure at all, and that we love your writing🤍 prompt: cassian and nesta talk about whether they’d still inevitably end up together if they weren’t mates and just alot of fluffy sweet banter

I did yours first because I really appreciated you saying that there was no pressure in completing it. I felt that and I thought it was the nicest thing in the world.

BUT It came out really stupid sorry so... I'm not going to tag anyone. However I will own my shame so here you go.

It's banter in the form of pillow talk, where Cassian constantly keeps Nesta up by asking her questions. In my brain, he goes on tangents and Nesta is the pragmatic one. That's like... okay Cassian. But again. STUPID!!!!!

“Do you think it would have been me?” Cassian asks as he tries to count constellations in fresh paint. “If we didn’t have the bond... would it have been us? I guess the real question is did the bond choose us from the start--our relationship destined? Or did the bond see us... how we acted and felt about each other, and some cosmic force recognized our love?

Nesta shifts in the bed, her eyes blinking up at him slowly. “Cassian these are not the type of questions you ask right before bed.”

But he has to ask, he always has to ask. There’s something about the darkness that has these questions bubbling out of his throat. “But think about it Nesta, don’t you think we’re sort of... odd.”

Cassian thinks about it all the time. There's no one more perfect for him then her and yet, he sees the way people look at them. His hands will always be stained with blood and Nesta is more fitted for white gloves and lace. And he knows she can hold a sword and fight with the best of them, but Nesta can fit anywhere and Cassian can’t fit.

“I mean I understand opposites attract,” he rambles on, “and we do have similarities, but we mostly fought in the beginning and yet I still wanted you even then. Was my want for you a part of the bond? Or was the bond part of wanting you? And if it’s the first, in another universe, in another time, would it have been me? And if it’s the second what if you hadn’t wanted me, too.”

Cassian turns to face her, the bed creaking as he moves. He watches as she frowns, her lashes casting shadows on her cheek. “I promised we’d have that time, but I never considered that in another life it might not have been me at all.”

It's not the first time he keeps her awake with some question or another.

Usually, she merely sighs exhausted at what do you think the meaning of life is? Does time even exist if we really think about it... Do you ever think about how you can know a person you’re entire life and only scratch the surface of who they are? Does that mean you can never really know a person truly in the first place and if that’s the case aren’t we all living with practical strangers?

More often than not Nesta’s covering her ears with the pillow, groaning while Cassian tries to pull it from her face. They’ve had a hundred and one nights like this. He wants a million more.

Cassian tries to catch his breath, almost wishing she’d groan or sigh or roll her eyes, play it off like it’s a stupid question because it is. he knows it is.

“So tell me,” he says, his words a whisper of worry, “what do you think? Was it always going to be us?

Nesta's brows furrow quizzically and she purses her lips. “I don’t know if you can tell this about me Cassian, but I don’t like many people.”

Cassian frowns at the words, “Is that an answer?”

Nesta shrugs, “I find it hard to believe I would have loved anyone else.”

“So you’re with me... by process of elimination?”

“Or...” She offers, her gaze alight with mirth, “you’re the exception.”

Hmm.

Cassian needs to think on that one.

“But hypothetically, what would you have done if it wasn’t me?” he goads. “We only exist because you turned fae, what if you hadn’t? There may or may not be a bond but the relationship is impractical if you’re human and I’m fae. You’d just get married to some poor bloke who gives you this large diamond ring and you have 12 children?”

Nesta scoffs, “Twelve?”

“Whatever number,” Cassian dismisses.

Nesta raises her hands to stop him, “we are not having twelve children.”

“That’s... a topic for another day,” Cassian waves off.

“No,” Nesta sings, “that’s a topic I will resolve now. We are not having twelve kids.”

“But I want a big family,” Cassian pleads, grabbing her hands and giving her that look that he knows makes her take pity on him.

Nesta rolls her eyes. “You’re head is big enough to fill up the entire house. We have no room for that many people. No. No!”

“The House is four stories. What are we suppose to do with all those rooms?”

“Cassian unless you are birthing these babies yourself in which I will fully support you emotionally, spiritually, and financially, we are not having twelve children. End of discussion.”

Cassian only grumbles out a response.

“And regarding your other question, I don’t know what I would’ve done. That scenario doesn’t exist. I’m fae, you’re fae. That’s it and unless we plan on dying tomorrow, I don’t know if we’d end up together in the next life. I don’t know if the bond keeps us coming back to each other. I don’t care. I want this life with you. I chose you and you chose me and we’re here together. And I guess, if the bond, or what I deem as love, means I’m going to have to answer these questions every night, then I guess that’s what I’m going to do.”

Nesta reaches for him, and Cassian shifts to make room for her. She settles her head on his outstretched arm. It tickles at his skin, but he can’t believe she’s just satisfied enough with that answer.

“Would you have married someone else though?”

Nesta sighs, but Cassian waits for the answer. She groans, mumbling about not getting any sleep.

“Probably,” she says at last. “Yes. If you want that answer, then yes. But quite honestly knowing my character and knowing the males in my town, we probably wouldn’t have lasted long. I would have killed him long before we ever reached twelve.”

Cassian laughs and Nesta brightens at the sound.

“Or he might have run head first into a moving carriage on his own accord. I wouldn’t have judged him.”

“How would you kill him?”

Nesta smirks, her eyes maliciously bright. “Poison... knives... a trip down the stairs.”

“Make it look like an accident.”

“Of course,” Nesta beams.

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” Cassian says, noting his mate’s excitement.

Nesta sets her hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb along the rough stubble of his chin. “Murder is always on my mind.”

“I should probably stop keeping you up with my questions, then.”

Her lips are impossibly close to his, and he can feel her breath on his skin. “Maybe you should. I’m sure the House knows how to hide a body.”

Cassian laughs, the sound bright in the shadowed room. He’s sure that’s true and her lips raise at his calm shrug of acceptance. His eyes dart to her mouth.

Cassian wants to kiss her, but he has to tell her first.

“I love you.”

“I know,” she says, her lips nearly touching his.

Being near her is a relief. But hearing her speak is something else entirely. Maybe he asks her these questions because he wants to hear her voice into the last moments of the day. At all hours of the night.

Nesta wraps her hand around his hair and tugs.

But another question forms in his mind. “Would you’re family have approved of me?”

Nesta rolls her eyes, pulling away from him. Cassian grasps her arms, pulling her back. “Hey, come on now. You’ve indulged me this far.”

Nesta pretends to think about her answer, and as he waits she looks to the ceiling as if she’s actually thinking about it. Cassian can practically hear crickets.

“It’s taking you this long!”

“Well... I’m trying to be accurate!” She throws up her hands. “You know maybe they wouldn’t, because you’re not... princely. No offense.”

“None taken,” He remarks. Because he knows all too well the differences between them. Cassian doesn’t mind. She’ll be his queen. He can be her guard. Her knight. Whatever keeps her next to him.

“But then again, maybe they would because you are rich--hey!”

Nesta catches the pillow he throws and she throws it back at him. He catches it easily before it hits his face.

“Who hits their mate upside the head?” She yells.

Cassian rolls his eyes, “You hit me all the time.”

“I smack your butt. That is not the same.”

Cassian scoffs, “You won’t let me smack your butt.”

“That’s because you try to do it in public places!”

“Oh, so you’re okay if I tap your ass in private. You trying to tell me something Nes? Who knew you'd like to be spanked?”

Her cheeks redden and Cassian shrugs, thinking about it. "Actually I should've known that."

“I change my mind," She announces, grabbing his pillow, "they’d hate you and you know what? I would marry that man and I’d have twelve beautiful children!”

Then Nesta simply turns away from him and pulls the blanket over her head.

Cassian tries to pull the blanket down, but she doesn't loosen her grip. “Take that back! Nesta, take that back. I’m serious.”

“Nesta!” He hisses. “Nes, I’m not going to stop bothering you. Nesta!”

But Cassian slumps as the lump of blankets stays still. Nesta doesn’t even make a sound.

“How about I pretend you didn’t just tell me about one of your fantasies and I'll bring it back up later. I’ll even pretend I found it in one of your books."

He rubs at what he thinks is her ass and Nesta shoves down the blankets with a flourish. Her hair is a mess of tangles all over the pillow.

“I hate you,” she says.

Cassian grins, setting his palms on her reddened cheeks.

“I love you,” He says softly, lightly tracing her soft skin with his thumb. It’s a privilege to be near her, to touch her, to be loved by her. To laugh and laugh and laugh. It doesn’t matter how, when, what, or why. “I wouldn’t want anyone else but you.”

Cassian kisses her lightly, “I still think we should talk about those children though.”

He merely gets smacked in the face with a pillow.

Fin.

I keep reading this and I can't make it better, so.... you win some, you lose some, you know.

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #oy vey did not want to post this one #but... you know exposure therapy #got to get used to ugly #I will not put my name on this #though #author unknown writes

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imaginethathaikyuu · 3 years

Text

day and night

inspired by the duality of insecurity and appreciation, and the way they often reflect each other in ways you wouldn’t expect

do i already have a fic called day and night? i dont know and at this point im too afraid to check

akaashi keiji x gender neutral reader word count: 1356 tags: fluff, descriptions of akaashi’s insecurity, established relationship, cuddling, this is a fic about me and akaashi

if u see any typos no u didn’t.

He hated the way his mind became so empty in moments like these.

The bedside lamp shouldn’t be on, not so late, not while you were sleeping, but you never complained when you heard the flip of the switch and the opening of Keiji’s book. You slept through it. You tended to do that.

Why?

He couldn’t figure it out. The reason you looked over everything he did wrong hid from him. It made no sense, really, the way you ate his over cooked meals with a straight face, or how you patiently undid the way he folded your clothes and fixed them to your liking, or when you slept with the light on while he read even though he knew you hated it.

You hated it. His cooking and his folding and his light, his mismatched socks and his new cologne and his impatience. Keiji sat, and he watched you sleeping, his book in his lap and his glasses sliding off the bridge of his nose, knowing you hated all of these things about himself that he wouldn’t change, and still, there wasn’t a thought going through his head. His book had been forgotten. He was just looking at you.

You put up with a lot. Likely too much. His alarm clock woke you up early while he slept right through it. Texts you send throughout the day go unnoticed by him. Late nights at work keep you up and waiting for him, just to watch him lock himself up in his office for another three hours of work.

It wasn’t like these traits about him were new, but they were louder, now. They were blaring and obvious and bothersome and every positive thing he brought to this relationship seemed so goddamn quiet.

That’s how Keiji felt. Quiet. It wasn’t an emotion, yet it was the only word he could think of to describe this insignificance. Maybe fragile was a better word.

He closed his book. He placed it on the nightstand and let his glasses join it. Finally the light could be turned off, and maybe you would sleep more peacefully now. He threw his arm over your waist and pulled your back against his chest, trying to rid all of that distance, trying to fill the silence with your warmth.

He’d lay awake for another hour.

You heard it before your mind and body even woke up, and you knew what it was without needing to come out of your dream: that damn alarm.

God, was it loud - it pierced your ears, it seemed loud enough to shake the walls and damage your hearing, and maybe it was because you had just woken up, but you could hardly stand it.

Opening your eyes was the hardest thing you had ever done. Everything was fuzzy and foggy, you tried to blink it away but you couldn’t, and all you cared about was getting rid of that noise.

You climbed over a still sleeping Keiji to reach his phone and shut it off, knowing that the alarm would ring again in ten minutes time, and your energy had run out. You collapsed on top of him, the crook of his neck becoming your new pillow and his chest your mattress.

In a sleepy daze you wore a smile, wondering how on Earth he sleeps so soundly through the loudest alarm you’d ever heard. He doesn’t even move when you land on him, and he only continues to snore when his second alarm rings out.

Like always, you’d let him sleep longer than you should. He’d be running late, but neither of you would care too much. It had become the routine, and you weren’t about to break this habit. You needed the time with him and Keiji needed the sleep.

It was nice to be awake before him, and you had learned to get over the frustration that came with hearing that dreaded alarm clock. It wasn’t very difficult when you got to wake up to Keiji, who was comfort personified. He was the consolation to early, loud mornings.

As you laid there, cuddling into his heated skin, listening to his breathing and his snoring and his heart beating, all you could focus on was how much you missed him.

Sometimes these mornings were all you had with him. Your work schedules didn’t match - granted, Keiji’s schedule matched no one’s - and neither did your sleeping routines. Even when you stayed up late for him, even when he came home for lunch, even when you both had the same day off, there was just never enough time in the day.

You never had enough of him. You wished you could become a sponge and soak all of him up - leave nothing behind, keep all of this golden man to yourself forever. It was a kind of selfishness you’d take pride in, if such an act was possible.

But even though you missed him so much, even though letting him get out of bed every morning was harder than it should have been, you always sent him off with a kiss. You always reminded him you loved him. As proud as you were of yourself for reeling in the prize catch that was Akaashi Keiji, you were infinitely more proud of him - of his drive, of his work, of his charm. Proud of every success and failure. Of everything he provides and everything he strives for. Even as he struggled to tie his necktie in the morning, or missed important deadlines, or let himself become more distant than he should. There was always some amount of pride in there, and you never had to look hard to find it.

Originally, you were going to let him sleep in this morning. He deserved it. But now, the more you thought about it - you’d much rather wake him up early. You deserved it.

Your lips molded to the edge of his jawline as you grabbed his arm, slowly and surely shaking him awake.

“Kei.”

He grunted, then hummed, then whined. He tried to roll over but your weight on top of him held him down, though he hadn’t even realized you were there. Fists dragged along his eyes and feet kicked the blanket away with a big stretch - every morning was the same.

“Gotta get up, babe,” you said before a yawn, and he pretended not to hear you. You only shook his shoulder harder.

“No,” he griped, and finally he opened his eyes, only to shut them tight. “Going in late today.”

“You said you’d make me breakfast.”

“You said you’d rather go without,” he said with a tired laugh trailing his words.

He found the strength to roll the two of you over, tucking himself into you the way you had cuddled into him, and you gave his hair a tug. A warning to say, you better not fall asleep.

“I was kidding,” you said. “Want you to make me something. Please.”

He gave a groan, one you knew meant fine, but his arms tightened around you, and his legs twisted around yours, and he had nothing more to say.

“Keiji.”

“Five minutes, babe.”

Keiji knew the two of you would be there for longer than that, and you did, too. He knew it could’ve been a bother, but you relaxed into bed, anyway, and let him do as he pleased.

“Goodnight, then.”

“Love you.”

You laughed. “Goodnight.”

And he squeezed your waist, making you jump. “Say it back.”

“I will, when you bring me my burnt breakfast in bed.”

“I will,” he sighed. “In five more minutes.”

It wouldn’t be just five more minutes. That would be inevitable. But he would bring you the breakfast he promised, and it would all be as burnt as you expected. That would be inevitable, too.

But you would eat it. And Keiji was glad that all of these things were a cherished certain, things he couldn’t change, things you loved him for even though he tended to lose sleep over them.

He tried his best. And you knew that without being told. And he appreciated it.

#oh my god i would have posted this sooner but my sister wont shut up about kpop drama #also theres a lightning bug in my room #fun huh #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x reader #scenario #fluff

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curly-bangtan · 4 years

Text

Heatwave Anniversary Drabble: i miss u like ... a lot (M)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first! but this drabble can be read alone

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: One night until Taehyung is back from his boys’ trip but you miss him too much.

Genre: fluff, smut, kinda crack?, boyfriend/established relationship au

Warnings: unprotected sex (oc on contraception so don’t u do it), teasing over the phone, riding and grinding, just kinda vanilla i-missed-u-so-much sex, a particular selca

Word count: 5k

A/N: It was Heatwave’s one year anniversay on the 17th so I decided to write a quick(?) drabble for this. I fully intended on posting this on time, but wanted to change up some stuff so only managed to finish this now. Happy birthday to my first fic and forver my baby!

MOSTLY UNEDITED

The absolute one thing you hate most about your boyfriend being away from you is your boyfriend being away from you.

You have never been the clingy needy type, that is more his role in this relationship, nor are you really one to show affection. In fact, you would hate for that false image to be perceived of you because all that sappy shit makes you want to throw up your dinner. But one thing you’ve learnt since Taehyung had gone away on a week-long boys’ trip down by the coast is how cold the house feels in his absence, despite being in the middle of a sizzling summer.

Everything is so eerily quiet without his random outbursts into song and fits of laughter. Having spent 3 years living together, you have gotten so used to his constant presence that you had even caught yourself several times calling out for him only to remember that he isn’t here. Waking up without his arm draped around your waist, slided up your top at some point during the night, impacts you more than you’d like to admit.

Are you glad that he’s having a great time with his friends by the beach, relaxing all day and drinking all night? Of course. Are you having a great time all by yourself over here in the absence of your boyfriend? Certainly not.

Though, of course, this isn’t something you would confess to out loud, especially to him. He doesn’t need to know how often the thought: ugh fuck, I miss Tete is crossing your mind, lest you want him to rub his smugness in your face.

It isn’t just that. Your relationship hasn’t been without its tests in the course of its years and things have only finally stabilised. It’s not that you don’t trust Taehyung to be with his ladish friends for seven days, shirtless dusk till dawn, intoxicated to the point where he calls you thinking that you’re the pizza delivery guy but…

A hammered Taehyung at a beach full of girls who are no doubt thirsting over him leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You trust him to be loyal to his core, but you don’t trust anyone else to keep their hands from copping a feel. No matter how you look at it, you would just so much rather he be at home with you right now.

You have endured this for six days. Six full days without Taehyung. Six full days with no sex, no tummy kisses, no clammy hand holding even though you’re only to get groceries. Just one more night and this torture will fucking be over, praise the lord. But you also don’t know how much more you can hold back that I miss you text because you’re combusting from the need to see him again.

It’s almost 4am. Your sleep schedule is fucked and it’s really his fault.

The bright screen of your phone offers the only luminescence at this hour. Your messages from him in the past week have not been shy of your daily dose of Taehyung - clips of the beach (always mischievously caption with something along the lines of “thinking of Mykonos ;D” where you went on your first holiday together), selfies that you dwell way too long staring at because you miss that face buried in your neck, drunk videos of the antics him and the boys get up to that you’ll definitely chastise him for when he comes back yet can’t help but laugh at. You find yourself scrolling through them every single night.

Your personal favourite: a pouty selfie he sent you after he dropped his ice cream, the picture you always go back to and the one you’re staring at right now. His hair is frizzy from the sea, lips jutted out childishly and cheeks puffy. Your chest constricts, fuck...

Just one more night, you remind yourself. And then he’s back and all yours again.

Then suddenly, the phone in your hand vibrates, short and abrupt. The bar slides down from the top of your screen reading New Message from Tete. Surprised, you scramble to open it, maybe a bit too desperately for you to be proud of.

04:11

Tete: bby

You blink at those three letters, lips pressed together because your heart is cinching.

Tete: ur prob aslep rn but

Tete: i missu

Tete: <334

The typos indicate that he is wasted, and you take a guess that he has just returned from their last night out of the holiday. The corners of your lips turn up knowing that he is thinking of you right now.

You: no im awake

Your fingers are itching to reply with i miss u too, and it takes all your willpower and stubbornness to stay true to your steadfast self. There is just something so unpleasantly moist about these kinds of texts, something that makes you cringe and gag when you read them. You refuse to be one of those people. A heart is all that you allow yourself to reply.

You: <3

You: r u drunk?

Tete: drunk in love

Tete: yes

A giggle escapes you at his god awful cheesiness - drunk, sober alike. Insufferable. But probably Taehyung’s most endearing quality.

You: did u have fun!!

Tete: yeah

Tete: but i miss u

Tete: more than i had fun

God, you feel like a teenager again, suddenly overcome with this gushing urge to roll over and scream into your pillow. You’re glad he’s merely texting this to you right now because if he had said this to you face to face, your skin would most definitely stain scarlet from neck to hairline, scalding to the touch. Even months into officially being his girlfriend, these curveballs of overwhelming affection throw you off guard.

Again, the compulsion to tell him you miss him too yanks at your heartstrings. You truly don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to say how you feel, let yourself be soft and vulnerable. You know it’s one of your flaws so it’s something that you’re working on, but you can’t say you’ve made much progress.

But just as you decide that maybe you should take the plunge, suck it up and just text him those three words, he sends you a picture.

Tete:

No, not just a picture. A selfie, of him in bed, shirtless under the covers. “Oh, fuck…”

Hand clasped over your mouth to prevent any sound from involuntarily escaping, it takes a moment for your breath to return to you and for you to stop gawking. At this hour… Really? Is he seriously doing this to you right now?

His sleepy eyes. His messy curls. And his fucking nose mole.

The undoing of your existence.

Tete: this boy misses u :]

You: bruh

You: bruhhhhhhh

You: taehyung

Tete: oui my lady :))

You: 👁👄👁

You: can u not do this to my heart

You: y did u send me this </333

You: what was the reason

Tete: coz i miss u

Tete: do u like it

Tete: :D

‘Do u like it’... Actually, you have tears in your eyes, albeit mostly due to staring at a screen for too long so late at night, but it’s certainly contributed by this selfie. You tell yourself you’re acting out because it’s been six days since you last saw him. Perhaps Taehyung Withdrawal Symptoms is the explanation behind why you want to print and frame this picture because that is definitely not a normal reaction to a picture. But this is a masterpiece.

You: taehyung my soul left my body

You: like i could weep

You: u look so soft and fluffy

You: :’(

Tete: lollll

Tete: simp

This boy has some nerve?! Simp! He called you a simp?! Laughing like a maniac, you can’t even pretend to be mad at him, not after this picture he sent anyway. So you guess you are a simp. This selfie is your kryptonite.

Tete: jkjkkkkk

You: hahahaha

You: y r u doing this to me

You: its 4am

You: u can’t send me this rn

You: i won’t be able to sleep

Tete: o yeah how come ur still up?

Tete: go to sleepppp

You: can’t sleep

Tete: aw no whyyy

Because you miss him that’s why.

You miss Kim Taehyung. You miss Tete. You miss your boyfriend, your best friend, your other half. You miss his touch, his smile, his wide eyes when he’s confused. You miss his morning snuggles and late night kisses. You miss the way he hugs you from behind as you prepare your meals. You miss the wandering hands that he can’t help when you’re out in public. You miss playing PUBG together until the sun comes out then both sleeping past noon. You miss taking baths together where bubbles would get into your mouth as your kisses get heated.

You just miss him.

It’s only been six days and you’re in this state. What has he done to you?

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you let out a great sigh and deflate. No other reason offers itself for you to be awake at this hour; he knows you cherish sleep above anything. Teeth digging into your lip, you inhale long and hard, then exhale the gust of your cowardice. It’s not that deep, stupid. Fuck it.

You: coz

You: i miss u

You: like … a lot

You: 🙄

It’s final - you guess you’ve become a mushy wet sap. Truly it is embarrassing how big of a step this is for you; but the sense of pride and accomplishment feels oddly validating. Baby steps. The eye-rolling emoji right after is subconscious because you could only betray the core of your character that much. Forgo it and taehyung might not believe that it’s you.

Tete: omg

Tete: :D

Tete: rrly?

You: *blank kissy emoji*

Tete: wow

Tete: u actually don’t know how hard i’m smiling rn

You: simp

Tete: ofc that’s my middle name

Tete: i miss u a lot too

Tete: like a lotttttt

Tete: i’ll show u how much when i’m back

Ah… Of course, the Taehyung specialty - smothering you with his affection. You freeze at the thought of his wildfire kisses and head between your thighs. Nothing screams of how much you’ve missed each other more than a good dicking down, climax after climax until you’re both panting messes of sweat and entangled limbs. The anticipation makes you squirm under the sheets, legs pressing together.

You: pls do

You: i need u

It’s uncertain what spirit has possessed you at this ungodly hour for these words to come out of you. There’s an instant flash of ickiness, but you let the self-cringing simmer and dissipate into the realisation that this is okay, this is normal. Taehyung’s your boyfriend, couples text like this. You need to grow some.

Tete: fuck baby

Tete: i’m so not used to u texting like this, it's driving me crazy

You: crazy how *cat smirk*

If you weren’t smiling before, you’re definitely grinning like an idiot now. His reaction is predictable, yet oddly still, an incredible wave of satisfaction hits you. And because you want to savour this moment, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine, you send him a picture of yourself.

Camisole strap slid off your shoulder, hair splayed out, bottom lip deep red from biting down on it too much. Just to return the favour.

Tete: y/n

Tete: call me now

-Incoming call from Tete-

Laughing to yourself, you wait a good few seconds before picking up to prolong his torture. “Yes, Taehyung?” You put your thumb between your teeth to suppress the laughter.

“Fuck.” Against the silence of the night, the low rasp of his voice permeating into you from the speaker of your phone sends tingles up your toes. You’ve fucking missed his voice more than you thought. “Y/N… You can’t do this to me.”

“I told you, I miss you. Like… a lot.” The saccharine tone in your reply is foreign to your own ears, but you like the sound of it and the deep rumble it elicits from your boyfriend.

“How much?” Taehyung eggs you on. His words are barely slurred, so you gather that he has sobered up at least for the most part by now. Yet there is still a slowness to it that suggests

“Hmm, like… I touched myself every night at the thought of you a lot.”

A sharp inhale. Then silence. But you know better so you give him a moment to gather himself.

“You shouldn’t be putting that image in my head.” Exasperation is evident in his voice, desperate and yearning. You can imagine him now, one hand on his phone, the other sliding over his pants that are getting a bit too tight for comfort. Your breath hitches.

“Then you shouldn’t have sent me that picture, Taehyung…”

“You said it was soft and fluffy. What you sent me back was not soft and fluffy.”

“Just because it’s soft doesn’t mean it doesn’t turn me on. You do things to me… okay?” Heat trapped beneath the skin of your cheeks, your grip on the phone against your ear slackening as your thighs rub together.

“Fuck, I’m getting hard, baby…” Nothing gets him going more than the knowledge that he turns you on, it’s his weakness but somewhat his strength.

“That’s… unfortunate. Are you going to do something about it?”

His gulp is audible even over the phone. “Uh…” A sigh. “Um. Maybe. Thoughts are being thought.”

“What kind of thoughts? Thoughts about me touching myself and moaning your name? Thoughts about how much I wish my fingers were your cock thrusting so deep into me that I feel it in my guts? Or are you thinking about what you’ll do to me when you’re back tomorrow? Fucking my mouth until I’m crying or filling me up with your cum first?” Your hips buckle at the filth leaving your mouth. This is more like you; you haven’t abandoned your nature after all.

“Oh, fuckkkk.” His moan resonates into your skull, not quite as if he’s here with you but good enough to fill your desire. “Y/N… I need you so badly.” Breath ragged, you hear movement of his sheets in the background as he adjusts into a more comfortable position.

“Are you stroking your cock right now?” A warm slick oozes out of your own entrance. There’s something about Taehyung masturbating to you that elevates you to a different kind of high.

“What do you think, baby?” As you listen closely, you hear the slow rhythm of his pumping, and your fingers ache to pleasure yourself. ‘The things I’ll fucking do to you when I’m back.”

“Mmm, but it’s late, Taehyung, why don’t we go to sleep.”

“Wait, what?” The stroking stops instantly and surprise in his voice releases a smug satisfaction into your veins. The equivalent of pouring a bucket of ice water over his head right now. Teasing is an old undying habit, what can you say? “You wanna end the call now?”

“Yeah, we should sleep, babe.” Grin unsuppressed, you turn over onto your side, probably a bit too pleased with yourself at your success. Taehyung is an easy victim always.

“What the fuckkk?” Your boyfriend groans. “You’re seriously going to tease me this hard then leave me high and dry?” When you offer no more response than a sly chuckle, he add, “You’re so evil.”

“Save it for tomorrow, Taehyung. Think about it, we’re one sleep away from seeing each other again.”

“Fuck, I know. But you just got me so fucking horny, bruhhh. I thought we were gonna have phone sex.” You are still laughing at his whining, basking in the victory you’re holding over him.

“Taehyung, save it for the real sex.” The idea of phone sex crossed your mind several times to be honest, but you really want to collect every single drop of desire and longing and unleash it tomorrow. Raw and pent up. Nothing to dampen the fire.

A sigh of defeat down the line. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know?” You know. “How am I supposed to sleep now though? I’m so rock hard that it hurts.”

“You can figure that out yourself, big guy.” Your cheeks ache from smiling for too long; they often do during calls with him. “One sleep away, okay?”

“Ugh, fine, you demon. I can’t believe you sometimes.” He lets out another sigh. Your heart skips at the anticipation of how he will punish you for this. “Good night, I miss you.”

“Good night, I miss you more.” There’s a sudden change of tone with these words. Because you truly mean it. Sex and physical intimacy aside, you really just missed his voice, his banter.

You fall asleep almost immediately.

You don’t think you’ve heard a sweeter sound than the keys rattling at the door the next day. Practically leaping off the couch where you had been awaiting him in your Taeyhyung-less boredom, you run to the door.

As it swings open, heat courses to your chest when your eyes land on his, so full of comfort. Your boyfriend is home. Handsome as ever, much more tanned than your memory of him and much more attractive. White t-shirt and loose black shorts, a mundane outfit that only he could make look exceptional.

And as much as you want to sprint up and throw yourself onto him, your feet stay planted on the floor.

“Hey.” You barely breathe out.

Stay calm and composed, you tell yourself. It was only one week without him, it’s not like he’s returning from war.

But Taehyung doesn’t even reply, because in two long strides he is standing before you, bags tossed to the side, a sign of their insignificance in the presence of you. His arms find their home circled around you, face buried in your hair before you can utter another word. You don’t hesitate to return his embrace, holding his waist as you let yourself fall into his chest. He smells like what summer should, the ocean, sweat and young love; his familiar musk greeting you as if he never left.

Your lips meet his, strong and full of intent. He’s so unexpectedly soft when he kisses back, a timeless romantic dance like he is saviour your taste on his tongue.

With your weight leaning on him, he slowly topples back, stepping hastily until your bodies land on the couch. You fit your legs on either side of him as you burrow your nose in his neck and breathe him in, memorise him. In nothing but a large shirt, your bare thighs are exposed for his roaming.

When you pull away and face each other, you are struck by his beauty. His skin is sun-kissed and glowing, hair an effortlessly beautiful mess, the slightest hint of a stubble peeking through below his nose. Your heart belongs to him forever, you know it without a doubt.

“You smell so good. I missed you so much, baby.” And his voice… That deep baritone honey that you have taken for granted all this time - music to your ears.

“Imissedyoutoo…” You mumble, shy under his undivided attention and mercilessly unbroken eye contact.

With your chests pressed together, his chuckle rumbles into you. “What was that?”

“I missed you too… I guess.” Face flaming, you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye at your admittance, fingers twirling around his curls to preoccupy yourself.

But he cups your chin and turns your face to him, forehead pressing up to yours until your noses are touching, breaths mixing. “That’s not what you said last night.” Taehyung smirks, hands sliding down to your waist, the material of your shirt bunching up in his hands. “Do I need to remind you?”

“No…” You find yourself unable to keep your eyes open, your core pulsing mercilessly as you grind onto him. “How are you already hard, Taehyung…” And though you mean to scold him, it comes out breathless.

Lips hovering, he traces the edge of your jaw, tingling the sensitive little hairs on its way to your ear. When he reaches the shell of your ear, warm breath infiltrating so relentlessly into you, you almost lose yourself right there on his lap. “Don’t you know how much I love you?” He whispers.

“Show me.” Is all you make out.

His hands are already beneath your shirt before you even notice, palms kneading into your breasts as he takes your nipples between his two fingers and rolls. As he kisses you again, the same tenderness exchanges between your lips. It’s a different kind of desperation to be so slow and gentle, one that means so much more than sex, one that’s telling of how much you truly missed each other. Your hips roll with a mind of their own over him. One hand of his comes down to your ass, guiding the waves of your rocking. And each time his stiff clothed member digs into your clit, you whimper into his mouth.

Carefully, Taehyung rolls you over onto your back, sucking your bottom lip to keep the seal from breaking. He pulls away when he’s on top of you, and a string of glistening saliva bridges between your mouths. “Foreplay or no? Tell me what you want?” Compliant as ever.

“I need you to fill me up right now. Anything else can wait.” You watch the devotion ignite in his eyes. His fingers are in a hurry as they pull your panties off, knees spreading your legs open as he kneels between your gaping entrance. He tugs his shirt off from the collar, such smoothness in his action that your insides coil up. His newly-bronzed rich skin revealed, you can’t help but reach up and run your hands down from chest to navel, revelling in his blemishless ridges.

A low sound reverberates from the back of Taehyung’s throat as your touch travels down to unbutton his shorts. They fall loose. His hard throbbing members springs free, a glistening bead oozing from his slit. “You didn’t wear boxers?”

When you glance up, you notice his sheepish grin. He presses his mouth onto yours, still smiling, guiding you back onto your back. “I just couldn’t wait.” Taehyung whispers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, especially since last night… Ah, fuck.” Another deep groan erupts from him as you reach down and slather that bead of precum all over his tip. His head falls onto your neck, writhing under your merciless stroking.

His tip brushing against your clit, your toes curls at the teasing of your weakness, hips jolting up involuntarily and perhaps a bit too violently. You’re so embarrassingly sensitive after this many days without Taehyung, and he notices from your breathless reaction. Smirking, he takes his shaft in his hand and runs his stiff head over your clit mercilessly. And as you roll your head back helplessly, he nibbles onto your exposed neck, faint stubble grazing your skin.

“Quit the teasing…” You whine, unable to withstand the build up of twisting pressure begging to be fulfilled between your legs. “Just put-”

Taehyung pushes himself into you so abruptly that you yelp. And there it is, that mind-melting stretch of your walls that you’ve so much missed. “Fuck, Taehyung…” Your entire core feels ablaze, so numbing that your nails dig into the leather of the couch before they find grip on his arms.

“Like that, baby?” His voice his strained, as if he’s struggling not to lose his mind as well.

Nodding because you can’t make out a word as he slowly pulls out, you grab his face and pull him up to meet your lips. You whimper into him mouth when he rams into you again, hitting your walls in full force, no mercy. His kiss doesn’t lose its sincerity despite the juxtaposition of his vigorous thrusts, though you can’t say that he is quite as gentle with as before. You pinch his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it as your fingers get lost in his hair.

After seven days of deprevation of his cock, your cunt is leaking with the fluid of your arousal, aiding in the ease of each plunge. You feel the stiffness of his ridges pulling you open as he slides in and out of you. “Fuck…” He pants, mouth hovering over yours.

“Let me get on top.” Taehyung’s eyes flash at your suggestion, instantly rolling onto his back. He slips out during the switch of position and the wetness of your cunt is assailed by a sudden rush of cool air.

You swing your leg over and mount him, watching him watch you pump his dick, your own liquid slathered over him sticky in your hand. Letting his member fall against his abdomen, you grind over him between your folds, hands splayed out over his chest. The friction created each time your clit would slide over the thin pinch of skin where his tip unfolded into his shaft has Taehyung a groaning mess.

He looks remarkable under you.

You push his sweat-dampened curls out of his forehead, eyes half closed in euphoria, half watching you roll your cunt so lewdly over his length. You know you could make him cum like this if you continue. But you want him to cum inside you first, you want to feel that thick hot spurt of his desire shoot again and again into you until his cock is twitching.

So slowly, lubricated by your wetness, you sink inch by inch down until the skin of your ass meets his thighs. This angle fuck with your mind; you think you feel him at your cervix. Then your hips start to do what they know best, pounding over him with a rhythm that you’re proud of.

Taehyung grabs hold of your waist, your breasts, fury in his eyes as he watches you ride him with such determination. “I love you so much.” He heaves between heavy breaths.

“I love you, I missed you more than you could imagine.” You huff, thumb running over his red swollen lips.

“I love when you admit it.” He sits up and takes the swell of your breast in his mouth, making his way to your nipples where his tongue relentlessly flickers over.

Your thighs are starting to burn, core aching because his cock is thrusting up into you so deep that you feel it in your guts. The signs are appearing - your vision is going hazy, walls squeezing tightly around him, tangle upon tangles knoting in your stomach. His are too - his head is slumped against your chest, arms crossed behind your back as he holds you close to him, whole body starting to tense as he begins to curse.

Pace quickening, you don’t let the tire of your muscles stop you from your chase. The slap of your skins ringing in your ears, you keep riding, cunt swallowing his cock whole each bounce. Taehyung breaks first. “Fuck!” He calls out into your neck. His cum squirts into you, pulse after pulse, your boyfriend’s hips jolting each thrust.

“I’m so close, babe, keep going for me.” You plead, knowing how sensitive he is right after his climax. He nods wordlessly, face still buried in you hair. The lubrication of his cum abolishes any resistance, letting you slide over him easier than sitting down. And not five thrusts later, your own coil snaps. You through your head back at the wave of pleasure that drowns you, your entire core on fire as your moans echo through the room. It takes maybe twenty seconds for your walls to stop throbbing and for the orgasm to slowly die down.

Taehyung is already growing limp inside you after his orgasm. “Thank you.” You whisper against his forehead while you dismount. His cum flows out of your slit and down the insides of your thighs, but he refuses to let go of you.

When he looks up, you are struck by an overwhelming sensationf of adoration. His long dark curls fall slightly over his eyes, in disarray but just the way you like it. His eyes are so full of genuine love and gratitude of having you that you can’t help but capture him with your lips. “No, thank you.” He mumbles against you, falling back onto the couch with you in his embrace.

After a long kiss of after-sex affection, you pull away before it leads to a second round. “I want you to know that I really missed you a lot. I can’t even call you a big baby anymore because I stared at all the pictures you sent me every night till the sun came out.”

Taehyung’s boyish smile melts your heart. You’ve missed him way too much. His smile, his goofy comments, his tender kisses. “My heart… is squeezing…” If his smile doesn’t tell how smitten he is, his eyes definitely do. “I missed you so much too. All the boys made fun of me for being such a wettie ‘coz I couldn’t shut up about you.” The thought is so endearing that you can’t help but hide your face.

“So how was your trip? Plenty of hot girls drooling after you?” Trick question of course, you know that for a fact already.

“Haha, it was good, fun. Bet you couldn’t sleep ‘coz you were trembling from jealousy.” Scoffing you land a smack on his chest. “But nah, no hot girls. Nowadays there’s only one hot girl in my eyes.”

Your own lips spread like a cheshire cat. “Shut up, cutie.”

“Rachel McAdams.”

“Let go of me. Don’t even touch me.”

A/N: Moral of the story, never sit on their couch if you’re a guest at the Heatwave house.

24/08/20

@taexxxiiaa @shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @shimtatae @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @yes-another-wannabe-hipster-blog @deliciouslydisturbed365 @getmemyfries @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @angelswrld @expensive-bangtan-girl @icyi-sky @gingerpeachtae @spring2787 @monixreal @askingtheimportantthingshere @casualminiaturetimemachine @xblackclover13x @vasysauce @deadinsidebitch2412 @emiyooa @i-dont-even-know-fck @chimycthulhu @gixanjos @hisunshiine @xtaeyi @softjellyjimin @bluemooncnblue @malfeitofeitto @bangtanfancamp @keopitae @out-of-jams @camilaxpolanco @d-noona @haechanspudu @dawnispeace @vante-visuals @liquanzhe222 @bangtanloverrrrr @bs14401 @seokjoontae @comingjimin @jeonsshadow @honeyspillings @taeshotteok @embrace-themagic @wataemelonz @ftvante @kth-jae @sintatae @lunarnovaa @reputae @imajinative @haosmull8 @sssaltyasian @brilliantlybasicb @devilsadvocater @ladyartemesia @btsglitter @besosalvolar @jayparkjustchokeme @johnnyseotolemyheart @bubblegumyuss @octo-donut @ftvante @gia-the-mermaid @miss-peys @fantasticallyabnormal @purplestar00paintblotch @taetaeismybaebae @jooachu @bringitseijoh @bboyseventeenn @lpayne612 @misohime @petuliii @slutdropjin @kyelamarie

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barnesandrogersfanfics · 3 years

Text

Ocean Eyes - Part 13

A/N - OMG finally an update!!! I'm so sorry it has taken me so long but writers block is a bitch! Thank you all for sticking with me and being so patient 💕💕💕 Please like/comment/reblog.

"CHRIS EVANS HAS A SECRET FAMILY!"

Shit, shit. Shit! Oh my fuck this can't be happening!! I thought to myself as i clicked on the link Hannah had sent me, the page loaded showing photo's of Chris and I kissing, photo's of Chris and Mason...... my heart was racing and i could feel the panic setting in.

"Fucking Brian!" I mumbled, this was taken the day i saw his car outfront! I got up and made my way to Chris' office, i needed to let him know about this ASAP incase he was suddenly blind sided with a question while doing his interview.

As soon as i appeared in the doorway Chris looked up and gave me a little smile that soon fell when he saw the tears in my eyes.

"Im so sorry but can you just excuse me for two seconds..... i'll be right back" Chris said leaving Scott talking to Jimmy Fallon.

"Whats wrong?....." he asked quietly pulling the door closed behind him.

"Im so sorry Chris....." i shook my head.

"Why? Whats happened?...."

I passed him my phone showing him the headline and photo's "Everyone knows, I'm so sorry! This is all my fault...." i started to cry, this isn't how i wanted everyone to find out... we weren't ready for everyone to know yet!!

"Hey stop! This isn't your fault sweetheart!" Chris wrapped his arms around me "come on don't cry, i hate it when you cry".

"Im so mad Chris!...they have no right posting photo's of Mason!"

"Let me just go finish up this interview, i'll be two minutes" he kissed me before rushing back to finish up with Jimmy.

After Chris had finished up his interview he was calling his publicist Megan, he already had missed calls from her so she had obviously heard what was going on. An hour later she was sat on the sofa across from us listening to the whole story.

"I want those photo's of my son taken down now! They can't post photo's of my 6 year old for everyone to see!" Chris was yelling as he paced the room.

"I've already put in a call and told them to take it down, but you know its gonna be out there now....you can't hide from this Chris"

"I know but.... fuck! We didn't want Mason in the public eye..... he's just a kid!"

"I get it, they should have at least blurred his face in the shots, most tabloids do nowadays unless the parents give consent but this particular tabloid that published the story, they're not one of the big names so they're more interested in their 5 minutes of fame with this exclusive"

"Brian did this. He did it to hurt me, its not even about the money! He could've sold the story to one of the big tabloids and got a payout..." i shook my head "the guy is crazy! I wasn't even dating him!"

"We're gonna try and do something about him too, leave it with me" Megan gave me a small smile while writing something in her notebook "So, you should probably post something on your socials.... clear up the gossip. Usually id say don't react to this but we need to do some damage control because right now, i guarantee all people are thinking is either you've been an absentee father with no interest in your son for the past six years" she said looking to Chris "or you'll be public enemy number one for keeping Chris's son from him" she looked over to me and i lowered my head in shame, i had done that..... i had my reasons but i did it all the same.

"So what do we say?" I asked quietly as Chris came and sat beside me taking my hand.

"We say that even though the two of you haven't been together romantically up until now, you have been raising your son together but chose to keep him out of the public eye"

"I'll put something together for you to look over, make sure you think its okay" Chris told her.

"I know this isn't great but we can handle this"

"Thank you Megan".

Over the next couple of days things gradually calmed down, Chris had posted a simple statement which i was told to post too even though my accounts were private to friends only, he didn't go into much detail but confirmed that we do have a son together and asked for our privacy to be respected.

His fans had actually been amazing and so supportive, of course there were a few saying some not so nice things about me and Mason but we knew that would happen. The tabloid stories quickly disappeared regarding Mason when other celebrities started posting, calling the tabloids out for not respecting our privacy after we had made it clear we didn't want our son in the spotlight.

But i still had this constant pit in my stomach, a feeling that things would still get worse before they went back to normal.

I was currently laid on the bed next to a basket of laundry that needed folding and putting away, I had retreated upstairs with the excuse of doing laundry while Chris, Scott and Mason were out back playing some game. The truth was i just needed some alone time, i was tired of putting on a brave and happy face, pretending like everything was fine. My hands massaged my temples trying to shift the dull headache that seemed like a constant thing lately.

"Hey, you okay?" The sound of Chris's voice from the door way made me crack open an eye to look at him.

"Yeah, headache is all"

"You've been up here a while, i got worried"

"I was doing laundry i told you....."

"You mean the laundry still sitting next to you?" He teased with a raised eyebrow.

"Yep, i started then i got a headache. I just need a few minutes" i said quietly closing my eyes again.

"Sweetheart you know you can talk to me, you don't have to act like everything is fine....."

"Yes i do, if i don't I'm gonna loose it and i can't do that with Mason around".

I felt the bottom of the bed dip and opened my eyes to see Chris crawling up the bed towards me, he moved my legs so his upper body was resting between them as he pressed kisses to my T-shirt covered stomach.

"What are you doing?" I shook my head and chuckled at the playful look he had on his face.

"Trying to cheer you up, maybe help you forget for a while" he smirked pushing my T-shirt up more so he could kiss my bare skin this time.

"Is now really the time for that? Mason is awake downstairs...."

"Its the perfect time for that, Scott will keep Mason busy"

"You dont know that....."

Chris quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped quickly on the screen before tossing it aside.

"Done, no distractions" he laughed.

"Oh god please don't tell me you told Scott why?"

"Of course not but he's not stupid"

"This is a bad idea..... we said slow...."

"This is slow, i just wanna make you feel better. Plus you know orgasm's are supposed to help with headaches" he shrugged with that cocky grin.

"Oh really? Is that right?"

"100%" he nodded making us both laugh, he reached for my shorts and starting to pull the them down my legs...

"Wait!" I said suddenly sitting up to look at him making him groan as he looked back at me from between my legs.

"What?"

"Lock the door would ya?" I giggled throwing myself back down on the bed shaking my head as he leapt from the bed and flipped the lock.

"Now where were we?" He said before crawling back into position.....this was a bad idea.

Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit @rynabarnesrogers-reading @rainbowkisses31 @rororo06 @supernaturalwintersoldier @fairlightswiftly @hiddelstannerbarnes @bellamy-barnes @buchanansebba @rosalynshields @turtoix @dottirose

Ocean eyes: @supraveng @michelehansel @melissaglenn5 @denisemarieangelina

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#chris evans #reader insert #chris evans x reader #ocean eyes

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fumingspice · 3 years

Text

kiss me hard before you go

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Reader

Angst because someone (not naming any names) *cough* @lilypadscoven is too happy to write angst. Such a strange excuse, i know. Like whose even happy anymore? That’s so 2014, Freya.

Warning: Angsty as shit! I think. Idk im usually a happy person. Mentions of cheating, mentions of smut etc.

Requests are open!

taglist: @sarahp-stan @jumpoffabridge-t @sarahpaulsonsoftie @definitelynot-a-writer @bottom4delia @delias-bitch-craft @creepingwolfberry @thesapphictimelady @goodeday2u @that-fucking-error @saucy-sapphic @sarahp-stan @winters-witch-bitch @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate

You frowned to yourself, flicking through the endless posts on Instagram. It was some godforsaken hour in the morning and no matter how hard you tried or how deeply you tried to ease your restless mind you could not fall asleep. You scrolled on social media endlessly.

God, what time could it even be? 04.27.

You gave a defeated chuckle. Even time was in on the universe’s cruel joke. She exited Instagram and went to messages. You couldn’t count the number of unsent messages and thrown out speeches you had started and couldn’t bring yourself to finish.

Billie Dean Howard.

The contact had found itself hidden deep in the archives of old messages. You hadn’t contacted her since December when you had walked away.

Walking away was better that being the one left behind, or so you had tried so hard to tell yourself. In hindsight, the truth was that Billie Dean was going to end up leaving you anyway. Was it courage of conviction or just the simple knowledge that you couldn’t live knowing that the only person you had ever opened your heart to was going to leave you?

What was the last thing she said anyway?

Goodnight :(.

Always with those stupid text faces. Those stupid, adorable text faces. How did she have such a powerful effect on you that you could see Billie’s face in a colon and a bracket? Why hadn’t you blocked her yet? What was left to hold onto other than movie-like memories that had slipped away like the changing of seasons.

You slipped from beneath the covers, Your hair tickled Your shoulders. There was no one beside you for you to reach for in your infinite loneliness anyway. It wasn’t infinite. Why did it feel infinite? Why did you allow one person to waltz into your heart and make you home there? You reached for an unopened bottle of wine and paused. Billie had left this bottle there. You never drank unless it was around Billie.

“Dom Perignon,” Billie told you. You were never interested in the details of fine wine. All you knew was that the older it was the more people liked it.

“Isn’t that expensive?” The brunette asked, reading the label.

Billie nodded with a throaty chuckle. “Only the best for my girl. I thought I would save it for a special occasion.”

A special occasion. You chuckled in spite. The occasion in question was supposed Billie’s birthday. A party with many guests. One too many. The house was brimming with sets of both of your friends. You could recall reaching for the same wine all too well before being stopped by your friend’s girlfriend. Erin took you by the wrist and guided you out to the garden.

“No one’s out here,” you protested. Erin’s face was almost forlorn.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Sorry for what? You snapped out of your confusion. You could see the side of Billie’s body. Pressed against the wall beneath someone else. The anxiety had somehow eased when you watched Billie kiss another, fading into nothing because you knew that there was quite literally nothing that could get even worse than what you were watching.

You pursed her lips. When you imagined these moments, you had always imagined screaming bloody murder. You imagined punching and yelling. You couldn’t move. No tears. Hell, you couldn’t even feel. Erin grabbed your arm and trailed you back, but not before the sight of you, heartbroken in a red dress. had registered in Billie. She barely had time to pull away from her kiss and have the shock of what she was actually doing register.

It was always a red dress. Red dresses end up in heartbreak. A goddamn blaze in the dark.

Now, you found yourself standing at the window that looked out into the garden. Looking at the spot where you had seen her lover betray every bit of trust that you had. What would have happened if you didn’t see? What if you had seen but Billie didn’t? Would you have said anything? Would Billie have said anything?

It doesn’t matter anyway.

Billie was wine. Aromatic, warm in her stomach. She was a magnificent swirl. She was the impossible to hide stain on your favourite white dress.

Every inch of this house had Billie in its essence. She was inescapable.

It got even worse when a buzzing noise brought your attention to your phone. “Who the fuck could that be?” you asked yourself. Your heart dropped at the contact.

Billie Dean Howard is calling...

Your world collapsed for a moment as you stared at the phone buzz. Your head told you not to answer, your heart launched for it like a desert oasis. You let it ring a moment too long. You barely managed to blurt out a cracked, “Hello?” when Billie hung up. Presumably giving up.

You bit your lip. Your thumb hovered over the redial button as you fought with yourself. Maybe she’ll call again. That’s a huge maybe. Your finger jolted down unintentionally. Billie picked up on the third ring.

“Y/N?” Her breath hitched. “Y/N, can you hear me?”

You swallowed hard. “I’m here,” you stated flatly, “I can hear you.”

“I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“Honestly,” you replied. You felt no need for warmth. “I don’t think I meant to.”

“Oh. Uhm, how- how are you?”

“What do you want, Billie? It’s five in the morning,” You cut off. You could hear Billie’s breath falter a little.

“To be honest, I just wanted to see if you would pick up.”

You shook your head, cursing how well you knew the medium. “Don’t lie to me, Howard.”

Billie chuckled. “How can you tell?”

“You were the medium, but I was the human lie detector.”

“You’re a lawyer with an Irish mother and Scilian father. It would be more shocking if you weren’t one.”

You smiled, before catching yourself in an eyeroll. “Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m in town. I wanted to see you.”

“It’s five in the fucking morning.”

“You’re telling me that I actually woke you up? You were sleeping when I called?”

You bit your lip. “Yes.”

Billie chuckled again. Like it was a fucking game to her. “Well, now who’s lying?”

“What do you want, Billie?” You scoffed.

“I already told you. I want to see you.”

The audacity of the last sentence. The fact that you knew Billie Dean would come whether or not she was invited boiled your blood.

“Why.” It was more of a flat remark than a genuine question. Why. Why now.

Billie was silent for a moment. “I just want to see your face.”

Your groaned internally, another eyeroll coming into play. You scoffed. “You know the address. Find your own way over.”

And she did. The door knocked almost immediately.

You opened the door so quickly that it creaked aggressively.

“You have some fucking nerve. You know that right?” You snapped. The medium’s eyes widened in shock.

“Nice to see you too.”

You stepped aside and ushered her in, cold from the whipping air. Refreshing if you weren’t standing in shorts and a cardigan.

Billie turned around to face her. Tension grew, like insulation keeping everything in. You could choke on all the words you never said.

“You look beautiful.”

“Je vais te tuer avec mes mains nues et dormir comme un bébé après.”

“I’m flattered.”

You groaned and walked away from her and into the kitchen. You didn’t know if you would slap her, kill her, or kiss her. You were just as prepared to strangle her as you were to fuck her hard on the kitchen floor then and there, kissing every single freckle and mole on her skin. “You have three minutes,” You muttered, pouring yourself a cup of coffee to stop yourself from looking in Billie’s direction. Your heart raced at a thousand miles a second.

“I just dropped in to say hi.”

“Hi.”

You were unamused. “Is that it? Are you going get out of my life again?”

Billie frowned. “Am I? Y/N, you left me.”

“Because you fucking cheated on me, Billie Dean! What? Did you want me to pretend I didn’t see it? Pretend nothing happened? Do you want me to pretend that you didn’t rebuild my ability to trust people just so you could knock it down yourself?” You shouted. The words were coming out thick and fast now apparently.

“I was so drunk, Y/N,” Billie whimpered, her eyebrows furrowed. She was in genuine pain, you could see the guilt right in her brown eyes.

And you couldn’t give a shit.

“I’ve heard this a hundred times.”

“How many times do I have to say sorry for this?”

You raised your mug to your lips. “You can say it until I’m dead.”

You met the medium’s gaze. Brown eyes waterlogged with tears. Billie dipped her face in her hands. “I don’t know if I can go through with this again.”

You snapped again. “Good,” you said. “Because I’m done.”

“You can’t be serious.”

The pair met, closer than you had in months.

“No matter what stupid, thoughtless, selfish, idiotic, drunken things you said or did. No matter how many times. I have never stopped loving you. I’ve never fallen out of love no matter how many times I told myself I had. I haven’t gone to sleep without imaging your goddamn mouth on my lips and hands on my body and I fucking crave to hate you for it,” you spat, venom on you tongue and tears spilled down your face. “I don’t sleep, Billie. I don’t sleep because I know your arms aren’t there to hold me when I’m still awake at four in the morning. Because I can’t reach across the bed no matter how angry I am at you and feel your hair. I fucking love you goddammit. You threw that away. Not me.”

Tears streamed down Billie’s face. “I regret what I did every. Single. Fucking. Day. I miss coming home and seeing you writing those stupid fucking reports that I know you hate writing because I know you hate your job. I miss seeing your face when you’ve won a case that has been scratching you for weeks,” she inched forward once more, her hands close to Mallorie’s face. “I miss seeing you reorganising the goddamn silverware every few weeks to keep the Fair Folk happy in the same way I miss seeing the way your mouth curls when you come.”

You scanned Billie Dean, searching despreately for a bluff, something that would give way to the fact that this was all a lie; a gimmick for a one night stand so that you could just shut her out and go back to hating her. Hating the person you love is so much easier than having your heartbroken again. You couldn’t find that bluff. Even your gut-instinct that panged you when someone lied to you wasn’t alerting anything. Billie’s words were as genuine as her tears and it was killing you to see that Billie loved you. The lawyer had hoped- prayed even- that the medium’s words had been bullshit, sweet nothings that could be whispered into the ear of any lover that had fallen into her bed. But you weren’t just a one time fling that had walked into a casual meet. You had walked into her long-term girlfriend with her tongue down another’s throat. You had stashed that little red box with a diamond engagement ring inside even further into the closet that night, and that’s what had hurt you.

A raw truth in her words soaked into you. Refreshed you. They were the words that the ocean screamed back at you when you stood on the cliffside begging for a reason to go on.

And so you gave in. Almost, at least. You stepped forward into Billie and allowed her storm to engulf you. There was no calm here. There was a raging appetite for destruction and creation. What was that lyric? A tornado has met a volcano. Her lips ravaged yours to the point of being rubbed raw, the type of sting that bothered virtually every moment of your waking day, one that went on for days. You bit down on her lips, her tongue, her chin and cheek. Whether in was in spite or the desperation to seek and find every single piece of her that you could was unclear.

Those fateful memories crept back, and you pushed hard against her chest. Billie’s lips, now red, white and swollen, pressed against yours again, retracting when there was no return.

“I’m sorry,” you lied. “I think there’s a possibility that I don’t love you.”

Billie’s eyes resembled a broken mirror, or maybe the view of a dying star. The thing about dying stars is that they died a very long time ago and you only notice years later. She nodded with a weak smile. “I understand,” she whispered, pressing her head against yours. She picked up her bag and turned to leave.

You stopped her. What on Earth were you doing? Let her leave so you can hate her in peace.

“Kiss me. Before you go,” you pleaded. “Hard.”

Billie shook her head, her face scrunched before throwing her face at you. The force drove you into the counter sending a glorious shock of pain up your back. Billie was doing what you had asked.

“Fuck you,” you pulled away and muttered, as if she had gonr too far in teasing you.

“What did I do?”

You raised your hand and slapped her face, lightly. “Fuck you for proving that I still love you.”

A rush of relief knocked Billie, visibly. She returned to your lips, much more gently this time, as if she were savouring every part of you.

“I told you to kiss me hard,” you whispered, although not necessarily opposed to Billie’s touch.

“I’ll do anything you really want,” she replied.

You paused for a moment. “Anything?”

Billie smiled. “Anything.”

You kissed her once. Soft. Tentatively. “Fuck me. On the table.”

#billie dean x reader #billie dean howard imagine #billie dean howard x reader #lana winters #billie dean howard #lana winters x reader #Cordelia Goode #cordelia goode x reader #sally mckenna #sally mckenna x reader #ally mayfair richards #ally mayfair richards x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #sarah paulson x reader #i was drunk when i wrote the last half #so maybe i'll drunk write more often

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hndcrm · 3 years

Note

47 and Diana are in the safehouse in Berlin. As night falls 47, plagued by his newfound memories, can't sleep. He wanders through the house and discovers Diana snores and talkes in her sleep. What will he do about it?!😏

I have made this so much angstier than the prompt calls for im so sorry my brain only provides pain apparently

He was glad to have his memories back. There was no denying it. It was liberating to know the events of his life in order, to have them fade back into something understandable as opposed to the blank, cryptic void from before. Some were better than others, memories of his and subject 6’s friendship, of the rare times he’d been able to sneak away with his bunny before its untimely and cruel murder.

Despite this, the memories were overwhelmingly bad, and none quite as pervasive and frightening as the car bomb in 1989.

He was the one to trigger it. It was a mission like any other at the time, he hadn’t thought much of it. Simple. Two targets, Peter and Nancy Burnwood, their daughter considered acceptable collateral damage. In the end, there was no collateral damage and perhaps that’s the only comfort he takes from the memory, that he didn’t kill her, that he was lucky enough to have her alive today. It’s not comforting because he knows she will leave him as soon as she finds out. He can’t blame her. He’s the one responsible for her involvement in everything bad in their world. He killed her parents, changed her life forever, ruined it without a second thought at the time. He recalls with tears in his eyes how she was there, how she was present when he set it off, that this innocent child had to witness the violent death of her parents. He’s hurt Diana irreversibly and she will hate him forever if she finds out.

Even throughout his career with her, he often pondered morality and his own goodness. Diana became his conscience and urged in private that he wasn’t evil, promised him that he was worthy of kindness and love. He wasn’t sure even then how much he believed her. He trusted her, however, so he did not question the assertions.

He knows she was wrong now. She deserves to know the truth, but it would result in her disappearing from his life, and he’s sure he would die without her.

And now, he cannot sleep. He stares out of the window in the living room and watches the night sky, silently bets on how long it will be before he turns to alcohol for comfort.

There are soft snores coming from Diana’s bedroom. He gulps. The door is tilted open.

The scene before him is like some practical test of his character and self-control. He could come in and watch her sleep, just for a few moments. It wouldn’t disturb her and she would never know, and he could memorise the details of her face, add to his mental depiction of her before she leaves him, imagine what it could be like to hold her like this if they could ever be this intimate together. He could pretend to be one of the few lucky men who have been able to truly witness this, to be able to say they’ve had the pleasure of sleeping next to Diana Burnwood herself.

Or he could do the right thing and close the door, minding his own business as a professional work colleague should, though even that description is generous towards him after what he’s done. He is evil.

Diana says he is good, but he knows she’s wrong. If he were good he wouldn’t want to come in and see her right now.

It’s late and he cannot sleep, he thinks the guilt will swallow him whole if he does not distract himself. He deserves nothing to do with her, deserves to die by her hands a million times over and rot in the deepest circle of hell, but now, watching her silently while she sleeps does not seem so sinful in comparison to the pain he has caused her.

He pushes the door open enough to slide inside and tilts it closed.

The moonlight peeking from behind the curtain streaks across her ribs and reminds him of a bullet that he was responsible for. He feels sick. She deserves so much better.

She’s tangled in the sheets, hair flamed out around her face, and instantly there’s an urge to run his hands through it, to move it off her cheek and behind her ear.

She looks delicate. He knows better than to think so improperly of her, ‘delicate’ is an insult when she is a force to be reckoned with and could kill a man with her sharp-tongued nature alone, but there is no denying the more physical aspects of her beauty when she’s sprawled out so ravishingly. Her upper lip is carved down carefully, brows furrowed slightly, bosom caressed by her silk nightgown and her hands elegantly tangled in the sheets, like a scene from an ancient erotic painting, beauty that could only be appropriately captured by a lover.

She stirs then, and he holds his breath, terrified that he’s awoken her with his selfishness.

She hums something incomprehensible, and the thought that she might sleeptalk scares him. He should leave. Diana trusts him, she does not hide from him. If what she dreams of is something he already knows, there’s no use invading her privacy. If what she dreams of is something he is not aware of, then he should stay clueless, respect her choice to keep it from him and leave, pretending he was never here.

He decides to do the right thing. He pads towards the door.

He’s stopped in his tracks when he hears her moan his name. He can feel his face heating up. He’s evil for having ever come here in the first place. How can he disrespect her so cruelly?

Curiosity turns him around, as he tries to picture the shape her mouth might take when she moans his name, but there is little left to the imagination when she does it again, quieter, and the sight is somehow more erotic and vulgar than anything he’s ever seen, he feels his trousers tightening.

He knows she doesn’t really want him like this. Dreams don’t reflect reality. Perhaps she thought of him crudely once, and he was lucky enough to catch it, but it was a one-off because she must know she deserves better than him.

He’d be more than willing to play out her dreams in reality. He couldn’t, of course, bring himself to ever actually do it. Their shared intimacy exists purely as a fantasy in both of their imaginations.

He’s grateful for his trained stillness as he’s about to leave again, determined that he’s long crossed a line. He must go if he ever wants Diana to think of him neutrally, at least. If she wakes up to see him standing before her so improperly she’ll know of his vile nature before he reveals it.

As he’s something like a metre away from the door, he sees a frustrated Olivia rub her eyes and grumble ‘fucking Burnwood’, then she slams the door in front of him before he can escape and he panics as he’s stuck in a deeply compromising position. The door is too squeaky to risk opening again, but it’s too late, for when he turns around to look at Diana, she’s awake, rubbing her eyes and squinting in the dark. He prays she doesn’t see him.

“47? Is that you?” She calls out, and he freezes. He could still leave. She would know he was here, but it would save him the embarrassing conversation until the morning at least, or maybe, hopefully, she’d forget. “What are you doing here?” She sits up in bed, a strap of her nightgown falling down her arm. The usual excuses for trespassing won’t cut it. I got lost, he thinks sourly.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He starts. How much of the truth should he reveal? Lying to her feels wrong, he knows she knows him too well for it. “I heard you talking, I thought maybe something was wrong.”

“Oh.” Now she turns red. “Well, I’m quite alright.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. He nods dumbly.

“Good.”

“And 47,” she adds then. “What did you hear?” She does a good job of playing off her voice crack, but he can sense the fear in her voice - fear he is responsible for. Why wouldn’t she fear him when he disrespects her like this?

“It was nothing - I didn’t understand anything.” He lies. He must lie to make her feel better. He shouldn’t have come in in the first place. She plays with the strap of her nightgown. He wants to leave but she looks so worried. Guilt greets him again.

“You’ve been avoiding me lately.” She says finally, chest rising in the familiar pattern she uses to calm herself down. “Is everything alright?”

I yearn for you, he thinks. It’s true. The thought tastes disgusting on his tongue.

“The serum. The memories-” he begins, but the following words don’t come. He doesn’t know how to tell her the truth. He doesn’t want to. She furrows her brows together and looks sadly at him.

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Diana gives him a lopsided smile. “If you want to talk about it-”

“No.” His voice sounds harsher than he intends. She cannot know.

He leaves. Another night is spent alone on the cold leather couch, thinking of her in the dark. Eventually, guilt takes over and he cannot bear to think of anything, so he opens a lager and drinks himself to sleep.

He wakes up to find himself covered by a blanket in the morning, and Diana sitting in an armchair next to him. He gulps.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she sighs. He shakes his head, mutters a protest, but the memories of his actions flooding back terrify him. He’s been awful.

He sits up. She hasn’t done anything wrong, and the shame painted across her face makes his insides twist with guilt. He doesn’t deserve to touch her, but all he can think of is comforting her, so he reaches out tentatively. Immediately she smiles at him and wraps her arms around him. It’s unfair how good it feels, how their bodies seem to fit so well together, and she’s innocently on his lap in his embrace, unaware of how many nights he’s spent fantasizing about this. He deserves none of it, he knows.

“I’m sorry, Diana.” He almost sulks into the warm skin revealed by her bateau neckline.

“Whatever for?” She whispers, and he aches again. He can’t tell her.

“I love you,” he whispers as the tears run down his cheeks and he wonders if she can feel them on her neck. It comes out instinctually, and he regrets it immediately. She doesn’t answer. He prays she won’t think anything of it. He’s pathetic. “I’m so sorry.”

They don’t speak of it again, and he spends every living second praying for her forgiveness, for when she eventually finds out.

When he knows she knows, it’s too late for him, and he’s glad she’s killed him. He spends his dying moments craning his neck up to ensure she’s his last dying image. He hopes Edwards will be kind to her.

#hitman #diana/47 #diana burnwood #agent 47 #hitman fic #fic requests

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rebelwrites · 3 years

Text

First In Line

Jax Teller x Reader

Requested by @rocketqueen

Prompt: “I don’t think you realise just how many people want to date you...I mean you’ve got a queue longer than the one to get into Glastonbury” -

Looking around your living room, a smile formed on your lips. Tonight was the weekly pizza and beer night. You only had a small house but somehow everyone managed to be comfortable, it was cozy.

You were sitting on the floor between Jax’s legs, this was your spot, always has been and always would be.

“Hit me” You smiled leaning your head back against Jax’s groin, looking up at him.

“I swear its like having a pet” He smirked as he held a piece of pizza in front of your mouth so you could take a bite before taking the slice off him.

“Thank you” You said, sticking your tongue out at him.

Everyone just wished you would hurry up and get together, seen as you both acted like a couple anyway.

“So I was thinking” Juice smiled “lets play a game, we each go around and say two truths and a lie and then the others have to guess which one is the lie”

“How old are you again?” You winked at him.

“For that you are going first” Juice laughed, making you groan.

“Fine” you huffed “right so I have never had a boyfriend because no one shows any interest in me”

As soon as you finished speaking you heard Jax choke on his beer. Leaning your head back you looked at him to make sure he was okay.

“Carry on” he nodded.

“I have always been too scared to learn how to ride and when I was about 8 years old I got stuck in the washer machine” You said resting your head on Jax’s knee feeling him playing with your hair.

“Definitely the boyfriend thing” Chibs nodded followed by everyone agreeing.

“Nope the lie was getting stuck in the washer machine” You said trying to read the room.

“Just so you know there are plenty of people interested in you darlin’” Jax said.

“Well where are they then” you sighed “because I sure as hell don’t see them”

“I don’t think you realise just how many people want to date you...I mean you’ve got a queue longer than the one to get into Glastonbury” Jax whispered running his hands through your hair.

The rest of the room fell silent thinking that Jax was going to confess but it never went any further.

It was now 1am and everyone apart from you and Jax had fallen asleep where they were sitting.

You and Jax were sitting out on your front porch, a blanket wrapped around the two of you, smoking, drinking coffee and watching the stars, your head was resting on his shoulder and your whole body felt a peace, it always did around Jax. You didn’t have to pretend you were better people.

This was one of Jax’s favorite times, just you and him. In fact in his head he pretended that you were together.

One thing that you couldn’t stop thinking about was what he said earlier that night.

“Can I ask you something?” You whispered.

“Darlin’ you know you can ask me anything” Jax whispered kissing your head “what's going on it that pretty head of yours”

“Just what you said earlier” You said softly “about how I have a line as long as the Glastonbury queue of people that want to date me, were you being serious?”

Jax was slightly taken back by the question, he hated how you didn’t believe people were interested in you for more than just a one night stand.

“Look at me” Jax whispered, placing his fingers under your chin, moving your head so you were looking into his eyes. He smiled lovingly at you, his heart was melting at how beautiful you looked in the moonlight, there was something so raw about this moment.

“I was being serious” He whispered running his thumb across your cheek “and I know your next question is going to be how do you know, I know because I am first in fucking line darlin’, I always have been”

The words got caught in your throat at his revelation. It took you a couple of moments to process what he said.

“But why?” You mumbled “I am obviously nothing special”

“Hey, I never want to hear you say you aren’t special again okay” he whispered, linking his hand with yours, brushing his thumb over the top of your head. You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel sparks and butterflies right now.

“Okay” you nodded.

“I didn’t want to fall in love, or need someone. I really didn’t want anything especially with the life I live. But then you appeared and I started wanting everything, when I look at you, I see the one I love, the one I need, the one I am meant to be with”

Silent tears were falling down your cheeks, you couldn’t believe that the person you saw as your best friend had been in love with you for so long and you have no idea.

“And if you gave me a chance I would spend every single moment showing you how much I love you” He whispered, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

You didn’t know where the confidence came from, you felt a buzz and not just from the beer. Reaching up you place your hand on the side of Jax’s face, feeling his lean into your touch. You took a deep breath before closing the small gap that was between the two of you, your lips connecting with his. And in that moment everything felt right, nothing else mattered right now and it was like it was just you and Jax.

Your lips moved in sync, the passion and love being spoken in words that you didn’t know how to say. Pulling away you rested your forehead against his, a large smile gracing both of your faces.

“You don’t know how long I have been waiting for this moment Y/N” he whispered “so what do you say? Wanna give us a shot and be my girl?”

“Do you think I would have kissed you if I didn’t want to give us a shot” You giggled before letting a long yawn escape your lips.

“Come on lets get you to bed” He whispered kissing you softly.

You were now laid in bed, wrapped up in Jax’s arms, things still felt like a dream and you just hoped that come morning it wasn’t a dream.

“So are you really scared on learning how to ride?” Jax asked as you ran your fingers across his bare chest.

“Yeah” You whispered feeling slightly embarrassed.

“But you ride with me all the time” He said running his fingers down your arm.

“Yeah I know but I’m not in control of the bike” You said looking up at him.

“Do you want to learn to ride on your own?” He asked.

“Yeah I do” You nodded listening to his heartbeat.

“Well then tomorrow, you and me will go for a ride into the middle of nowhere, so its just us and I will teach you how to ride” He whispered, you could tell by the sound of his voice he was smiling.

“Jax I can’t” You mumbled.

“I won’t let anything happen to you darlin’, I will be right behind you until you feel you are confident enough to ride on your own” He whispered kissing your head “Now beautiful, get some sleep”

“Night Jax” You mumbled letting your eyes flutter close, letting the sound of his heartbeat be the lullaby you needed to drift to sleep.

Jax couldn't help it, he stayed awake a bit longer to watch the angel, his angel sleeping peacefully on his chest, he didn’t think this day would come, the day that he could finally call you his girl but here he was, on cloud nine and he only had Juice to thank for wanting to play a silly game.

SOA TAGLIST

@chibsytelford @talicat713 @corebore123 @nothingeverdies @teapartydreams @mrspeacem1nusone @khyharah @itmejado @beth-winchester21 @rocketqueen @auroraariza @trulysuccubus @haynsey @witching-hour @destynelseclipsa @edonaspanca @abbiesthings @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @jadesamhart @lady-pswrld @ly--canthrope @hennessyauntie @gemini0410 @i-love-scott-mccall @est11 @mystic-shadows42 @sugary-x-sweet @starrynite7114 @skyofficialxx @terminallygenius @lauraashley93 @leaalfred @angelreyesgirl89 @sheeshgivemeabreak @marquelapage @meteora-fc @penny4yourthot @justahopelessssromantic @ilikechocolatemilkh @mayans-sauce @xbreezymeadowsx @ben-c-group-therapy @-im-fantastic- @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @milaxmariex @cubblycie @little-diable @hotdamnhunnam @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead

#jax teller oneshot #jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller #sons of anarchy

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sunarintoes · 3 years

Text

synopsis: Yn Ln is an environmentalist - Miyagi University’s very own campus ‘Green Thumb.’ One day Hinata Shōyō - who happens to be a close friend of Yn, invites them to come to one of his races. The only problem is that this race of his is… illegal. Follow the journey of Yn who has been sucked into the world of illegal street racing with one goal: to create an eco friendly race car!

wc: 1.3k

cw: reader has a panic attack and faints

Masterlist

1.6 Can We Be Friends?

‘Hey stranger. Been a while.’

How long has it been since you heard that voice? A month? Maybe two? Whatever it is, it has been a long time. You can not erase the memories of someone so important in such a short time, sure you can pretend to but your subconscious knows better. Maybe it was a mistake to push him out of your mind because now that he is in front of you everything comes back in an overwhelming wave of emotions. The good and the bad. You do not know what to feel - there is too much. Euphoria, a rush of happiness because he is finally back yet angst, he left you hurt and lonely. Wait. You stop your rampant thoughts, I’m with Kiyoko, you tell yourself, Oikawa was nothing more than a frien- a common stranger.

‘Heard you’re with Karasuno’s pretty manager…’

‘Mm.’

‘Thats uh, that's good for you,’ he pauses to take in a sharp breath, ‘About that day… a month, 3 weeks and four days ago-’

‘You counted?’

He looks away from you, ‘yeah…’ his voice is shaky and quiet, and you wonder why he is so nervous. Is it you? No, no it cannot be- you shake these thoughts from your head and concentrate on the man in front of you.

‘I've uh, I've missed being strangers with you.’

‘Yeah me too,’ he breathes out slowly, ‘If I'm completely honest- I'm uh... well. It's not that I'm not honest or that I find it hard to be honest or that I'm a liar. I'm not a liar, I promise. It's just that I uh, I just find it hard to find the right things to say and when I do it's just, it’s too late to say them or I'm too scared to say them or I can't will myself to say them. I’m a coward. Yeah a huge one- look I'm sorry! I'm really sorry for the way I acted, I took your care for granted and I uh should've heard you out. You're a good friend- no! Stranger! Yes. Stranger. You're a good stranger. I um…’

You look at him with a smile, ‘You’re rambling.’

‘Yeah, yeah I am. Sorry. I guess it's just what happens I- right. Basically, I want you bac- as a friend! No! As a stranger! Please come back to me? I miss your warmth and the comfort and solace that comes with a kind stranger-’

‘Me too.’ He looks at you with shock scribbled all over his face, ‘I've missed you too, Tooru. Maybe, just maybe…’

‘We can be friends?’

You giggle, and he follows suit. ‘Who knew we’d be in sync?’

‘Yeah that's weird, we only just reconnected y’know?’

‘I know right? Maybe it was meant to be?’ You say it jokingly but it idles in the back of your throat, you said it jokingly… right?

He hums lightly, ‘I've done some soul searching this past month.’

‘Oh yeah? Have ya found anything?’

‘I think… But I'm not sure yet. I'm not sure when I'll know but I hope I can find a conclusion soon… Maybe, maybe you can help me? And give me some advice like you used to?’

‘As a friend it'll be my honour.’

Oikawa feels heat prick at his cheeks, ‘Not now’ he whispers to himself.

‘What was that?’

‘Maybe later? We can head over to the gas station and get a good ol’ vanilla bean frappe?’

‘Sounds perfect.’

‘Racers head over to the cockpit! The drag race begins in t minus fifteen minutes!’

‘Saeko’s as loud as ever huh?’

‘Well she is in charge of the announcements,’ you laugh, god he’d missed that laugh.

‘Guess I better head over huh?’

‘Yeah I guess you better, I'll be cheering for you - quietly of course. Can't let my team know,’ you wink at him, ‘Oh and Tooru?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Nice makeup. The glam look suits you.’

He flashes you a gorgeous smile and honestly? That’s just as good as any other reply he could have said. You turn around and head back to Karasuno’s garage, ‘Shit’ you curse to yourself, ‘Why is my heart beating so fast?’

✄.

‘Yn! Where’ve you been? I've been worried sick!’

And like a harsh wave on a windy day, you feel a rush of guilt splash over your whole body. You had forgotten, even if for a little while, that you had someone - that you had Kiyoko. Oikawa’s just a friend you tell yourself, you only feel this way because he is finally back. Nothing more, nothing else.

You look up into her beautiful, deep blue eyes and this time, for the first time in a long time, you notice how much she cares for you. It is so obvious, the way she looks at you like you are the only one in the room and it's so, so unfair. It's unfair that you cannot look at her that way. She deserves someone who loves her just as much as she loves you and you hate yourself, you really do, because you know you’ll never love her like that.

And then it strikes you. You only want her for her body. And the wave of guilt? It becomes a tsunami and suffocates you from the inside out. You feel your heartbeat speed up - when did it become as fast as the race cars? Then suddenly the tight, unforgiving noose around your throat ties itself stiff, you can't breathe. The last thing you hear before your world fades black is the desperate cries of Kiyoko, what’s she calling, you ask yourself, god… she's calling after me. I wish I could call out to her.

✄.

You wake up to a familiar scene, you are at Kiyoko’s.

‘You're finally awake.’

You turn your head towards her soft voice, ‘Mm Kiyoko? What happened?’

‘You went missing for about 15 minutes before the race started- or well before we had to get ready. When you came back you fainted and Asahi helped bring you here.’

‘I’m sor-’

‘Don't apologise. Just tell me what's on your mind.’

‘It’s, Im- I…’

‘Please,’ she begs.

‘Kiyoko I- I'm sorry. I don't know if it's just… I'm just overwhelmed at the moment. I'm sorry.’

‘Mm,’ she mumbles, moving closer to you. You feel her warm arms encircle you and pull you towards her, your back to her chest. Your heart does not speed up, it calms down. Maybe that's the effect of familiarity? ‘Lets just have a nap, yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ you whisper.

Her warmth brings you comfort, a comfort you wish you could give back. Maybe you are? Maybe you're not… you don't know. Her light snores used to be music to your ears but now they're nothing more than a mesh of messy drum beats, booming and thumping around your head. A small tear slips down the side of your face, ‘I wish I loved you.’

✄.

Kiyoko wishes you loved her too, she wished you loved her for more than just her body and the memories but you don't. Not that it matters, she thinks, as long as you are with her - as long as she can touch you, she doesn't care how you feel about her. She’ll take what she can get and she is oh so desperate for you, your touch, your taste, your sounds and oh god she must be a masochist.

When did she become so sadistic that she got off on her own pain? On your pain! She loves that you're broken and hurt and confused because that means she gets to be with you and oh she wishes that you’ll stay that way forever.

That is horrible isn't it? Yeah, she knows she’s fucked up but she’s fucked up for you and she wouldn't have it any other way.

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