#anxiety-posting from airports

[linearao3]

Served Me Well

E, 6/9

Chapter 6: Gold Silk, Firelight

He’s looking at her with cold, narrowed eyes. Does he want her to ask him, to say please, like this morning? She’ll do it, if that’s what it takes.

But before she can open her mouth, he’s turned to Sankta Zoya. “Do you have somewhere I can talk to Inej in private?”

[fooltofancy]

is it so strange that they can't imagine a world without you in it?

[dansevilpianotea]

i have flight anxiety yes yes but i also just remembered flying to berlin means flying to and from berlin so ive decided not to go to the berlin show

[fingertipsmp3]

Had a dream I was trying to buy weed online from like France and I needed to trick my former childhood friend into paying for it or accepting the delivery or something but I left my journal in her car and she read it and found out my plans and she showed up at my house to kill me

[lulunothulu]

“Talking to the moon”

Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: After missing the flight meant to mend your relationship, Tyler is left with anxiety. Thinking you’re planning on breaking up with him, Tyler tries his best to reach you—even talking to the moon.

Inspired by this post and “Talking to the Moon” by Bruno Mars 💗💗 @hunterthecharmer this one is for you.

He felt miserable.

Every time he tried to distract himself from that argument, he felt like the weight of the world was falling on his chest.

It’d been almost a few days since Tyler had last seen and spoken to you and he was absolutely dying to hear from you.

You must’ve been so angry at him. Especially after he’d accidentally missed the plane that was meant to take you both on vacation.

You’d both been arguing about anything and everything for the past couple of weeks before the actual day of the flight.

“Tyler,” you’d say. “Why can’t we just have a weekend? Just one, for ourselves?”

“You know I can’t baby,” he’d tell you, watching as your face grew hard. “There’s a huge tornado that’s supposed to hit and I have to be here to document it.”

“You don’t have to, you want to.” You spat.

He’d watch as you’d shake your head and walk away and then feel like he’s whole world was spinning.

Tyler knew you were right, but he couldn’t help himself. Chasing had become like a drug to him, addicting and overpowering.

That’s why he vowed to give you that weakened trip you’d been begging for. He’d booked a trip to Nashville for the weekend, thinking it would be a great way to get away from everything.

Except, when the day to catch the flight came along a beautiful F3 tornado decided to make its way into a town an hour away.

“Tyler I swear to god if you go,” you started. “I will leave and you’ll regret it.”

“Baby,” Tyler breathed. “It’s an F3! It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity to—”

“You know what,” you interrupted. “Just go. If you’re not in the airport and on the plane by the time we have to leave, just know I will not be happy with you.”

Tyler kisses your forehead, smiling before promising he’ll be on the plane.

———

“Boone, get a shot of that!” Tyler yells, happily smiling up at the cyclone before them.

Boone points the camera toward the tornado, whooping loudly and excitedly. “Look at the beaut, folks!”

Tyler anchors the truck to the ground, smiling and then adjusting his harness. He turns to Boone and smiles before asking, “You ready to shoot some rockets, Boonie?”

Boone beans at Tyler before whooping again as the tornado passes over them, rockets flying up and swirling around along with the debris in the tornado.

“Whoooo! That was somethin’ wasn’t it?” Tyler says to the camera.

Boone smiles, “That was the best one yet, Ty!”

“Alright, Boone,” Tyler starts. “Let’s get back so I can finish packing.”

By the time Tyler got back to the house and then to the airport, he’d missed his flight.

“Fuck!” He muttered to himself. You were going to be pissed.

———

“Tyler, what the actual fuck?” You whisper-screamed.

You’d just landed in Nashville and were walking toward the rental car station, suitcase in tow and anger flaring.

You couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. You weren’t surprised, though. This wasn’t the first time he’d forgotten something important.

There was your third anniversary dinner that you’d spent all day preparing, his own birthday, when your parents came into town…you could list more, but your were pissed enough.

“Baby I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “I’ll be on the next flight there, just give me a few hours.”

“No, Tyler. Don’t bother coming,” you tell him, tears pricking your eyes and anger turning into pure disappointment.

You felt like you were breaking. Every inch of your heart wanted to explode in hurt, eyes wanting to give in and cry—but you willed yourself not to.

You wouldn’t be the person crying in an airport.

“I’ll see you next Monday,” you tell him, hanging up and turning your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’.

Once in your rental car, you let the tears come. They spill down your cheeks, almost blinding your vision.

How could he do this? He was the one that set everything up!

You knew he’d never change and that’s what hurt you the most. You’d asked for three days. THREE DAYS. And he couldn’t even give you them.

Grief and pain washed over you and by the time you reached the hotel, you were exhausted and feeling the depression hit you hard.

You checked in, grabbed your hotel key, and then made your way upstairs.

The room was beautiful. A view of all of Nashville, the city lights started to illuminate into the room like the moon back home would.

You wished Tyler was there.

He could’ve been there had he not missed his flight.

Tears prick your eyes again but you blink them away.

Just because Tyler want there, didn’t mean you couldn’t attempt to have a good time.

Tomorrow, things would be better.

———

Tyler trudged back into y’all’s house, suitcase being thrown to the side as he angrily closed the front door.

How could he have forgotten? What kind of an asshole forgets he planned a romantic getaway and then not even show up to the airport?

Tyler wasn’t much of a crier, but right now he couldn’t help but cry.

He was so angry at himself. Angry that he let you down…again. He knew this wasn’t a first time thing. He knew this was grounds for a break up and by god did he deserve it.

He’d acted like an asshole and despite his lack of trying, he’d become the asshole of all assholes.

He wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands before walking to y’all’s room. Your side of the bed was strew with clothes you’d decided to leave, some makeup products scattered on top.

Tyler gently picked up one of your dresses, smiling down sadly at the material before pressing it to his face and sniffing the lingering scent your sweet perfume.

Tears pick up again as he holds the dress close to his body.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” he cried softly. “Please don’t leave me.”

Tyler’s shoulders shook as he sobbed, holding your dress before grabbing one of your shirts from the bed and pressing it close to his body. He’d broken your heart and yet, he feels like the one who’s broken.

He should’ve payed attention to the time. He should’ve just stayed home in stead of going chasing today.

He should’ve tried harder.

Sniffling his tears away and then laying your clothes on the bed again, Tyler walks to the balcony door in the back of the room. He swings the door open and leans on the railing, sighing to himself.

“Maybe I should try to call her,” he thinks out loud.

Tyler pulls his phone out of his pocket, dialing your number but frowning when you send him straight to voicemail. He tries again, frown growing when you send him to voicemail again.

“Hi you’ve reached…”

God damnit.

“Baby,” he whispers after the beep of your voicemail, looking up at the moon. “Please forgive me. Answer the phone.”

He takes a deep breath, still looking up at the white moon before him.

“The moon looks lonely tonight,” he continues. “It’s the same moon we always look up at but without you here, it feels different.”

He sighs, choking back a sob.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers again. “Please, please, call me back.”

That’s how Tyler ended his night for the next few days. By the time Monday rolled around, he knew he had to go get you from the airport.

To say he was scared was an understatement. Tyler was petrified. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into when you get off that plane.

You’d just texted him that you were waiting at baggage claim and Tyler’s hands were sweating as they gripped the steering wheel.

He’s brought a bouquet of flowers in hopes that it will soften the blow. But as soon as he walked into baggage claim and made eye contact with you, something in the air shifted. 

———

You texted Tyler you were getting your bags with a sigh. You’d ignored all of his texts and calls the past few days and now that you were home, all you wanted to do was hear Tyler’s voice.

You felt like shit. Hair in a messy bun at the nape of your neck and clothed in leggings and one of Tyler’s sweatshirts, you make your way through baggage claim and retrieve your bag before turning toward the exit to see a disheveled Tyler walking your way.

Tyler’s eyes were rimmed red, hair messy and face scruffier than usual. In one hand, he held a bouquet of flowers, the other was twiddling with the hem of his black shirt.

It felt almost like a movie. As soon as Tyler’s eyes met yours, all the anger you felt toward him disappeared. Nothing but worry and love remained in your heart as you quickly made your way toward him.

“Tyler,” you whisper when you finally reach him.

“Baby,” he chokes out.

He looks ready to cry any second so you take the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck, brushing the soft part of his neck and burying your face into him.

When he wraps his arms around your waist, you feel his shoulders relax and then shake.

“I’m so sorry,” he quietly says, his tears trickling down your cheek.

You pull away enough to face him, brows knitted together and wipe his eyes.

“Please don’t cry, Tyler,” you tell him. “It was an honest mistake.”

“I’ve been terrible to you and I see that now,” he continues. “I shouldn’t have forgotten about the flight. I should’ve—”

You stop him with a kiss, deep and full of forgiveness and love. When you pull away, you smile up at him.

“Tyler, I know how you are,” you tell him. “Let’s just start fresh. Okay?”

Tyler eagerly nods, kissing you again before letting you go and grabbing your suitcase. “Let’s get home.”

“Wait,” you stop him, grabbing a snow globe you picked up from one of the Nashville shops. “I got you this.”

In the small globe sits a man playing a guitar while looking up at a moon.

“I talked to the moon,” you start. “It said I should forgive you so I figured this would be a nice gift to symbolize that.”

Tyler’s eyes tear up before he kisses your forehead and says, “I love it. And I love you.”

“Good, be use I love you too.”

This took me two days to write because I couldn’t work out how to end it and I STILL don’t truly like it so I’m sorry 😭 check out my Masterlist for more fics!!! 🫶🏼

[luveline]

hi jade !! this is me resending my hotch request bc of ur recent post 🤍 i sent the one about hotch taking care of bau!reader who has a really bad stomachache, thanks so much, i think you’re amazing 💞💞💞

thank you for requesting angel! fem

You do this sad thing with your hands when you're in pain. Aaron wishes he didn't know your tell, that he'd never had reason to understand it, but he does. Your fingers, in particular your pinky, curl toward your palm frenetically, and he has an ample view of your closed off face in the chair opposite. He can pin the moment he knows you're in pain down to the minute twitch of your lip. 

He peeks at Morgan where he lays on the couch before leaning across the table to touch your arm. The jet offers little privacy, so Aaron tries to be delicate. 

“L/N? Are you alright?” 

“Mm,” you hum, too high-pitched to have come out the way you meant it. 

“What's wrong?” 

“Nothing.” You say this, and yet you can't open your eyes, leaning less than subtly away from him as though your pain is catching.

Aaron keeps his head down as he stands so as not to attract attention. You've sat near the wall, leaving an empty seat for him to sit in. “Hey,” he says, touching the crook of your elbow, wanting to fix it, soothe the twitch from your hand, “you're in pain.” 

“It's nothing.” 

“Saying it won't necessarily make it true,” he says. 

“It felt worth trying.” 

He is genuinely perturbed to see you in pain like this without explanation. “You have to tell me what's wrong.” 

“Hotch, I…” you say, your voice wrought with embarrassment as you open your eyes, “it's just my stomach hurts. That's all.” 

“Sharp pains?” 

“Just hurts. Nothing dire.” 

“How do you know?” he asks. 

“Happens sometimes.” 

He puts his arm around you, careful not to jostle your back. You're tense as a rubber band about to snap. It's unlike you to be the more rigid of the two of you, less foreign for Hotch to have softened, especially when it's you. “How often?” he asks, wary of the tears brimming like silver at the corners of your eyes. 

“Just sometimes, I don't know.” You speak in a concise, panicked tenor. 

In this line of work, it could be anything. Not eating enough, not having time to stop for breath. You could be thirsty, sick, anxious, stressed into pain. It could be purely psychosomatic or you could be injured. He can't remember you taking any blows during the last few days away. It could be your period. You might not want to mention that. 

“Y/N,” he says, falling out of boss mode now he's sure it's not going to kill you, and into someone who cares for you, “what can I do?” 

You shudder a breath, slouched under his touch. “It's not that bad.” 

It's clearly a shocking amount of pain. Your shuddering worsens as he pulls you into his side. He's prepared to sit with you until you can give him better instructions, or until the pain passes, or, God forbid, things get worse. “I'm here,” he says, rubbing your arm gently. “Try to breathe.” 

He's wondering why you might think this amount of pain is normal, or acceptable. Wondering why he shouldn't just call for medical assistance here and now, but then you start to come around, your face shining with perspiration. “Oh,” you sigh, wiping your face with your sleeve, leaning into your hand, hiding. 

“Is it getting better?” he asks. 

“I think it's anxiety or something.” Your breath slips out in disjointed huffs. 

He can't guess what it is. Have you been to the doctor? he wants to ask, but perhaps in a moment, when you're steady in yourself again. “From the jet?” 

“No. Maybe.” You frown. 

“Jack doesn't understand that I'm on a plane.” 

You lift your gaze in confusion. Aaron moves onwards.

“He doesn't understand that this is a plane. I brought him by, once, to try to explain why I can't always answer the phone. It's thick metal, you know?” It was an easier explanation than having no signal in the sky. “But he didn't get that it was something that could move. I had to take him to the airport. We watched…” He slows as your eyes meet his completely. “We watched them take off for hours. Now he doesn't get so angry when I don't answer.” 

“Jack was angry?” you ask, half incredulous. 

“A bit.” He tries to string the story together before you can realise what it is he's doing, his arm curling around your from behind, fingers making the most tenuous of circles into the very side of your stomach. A barely there sort of comfort. “It's not like him. He reminds me of his mom when he's angry.” 

Your smile is a physical relief to see. “Does he have tantrums?” 

“Doesn't every kid?” 

You talk about Jack in dulcet tones while he tries to keep the pain at bay, his arm steadfast behind you, your faces closer than they have any platonic business being. He'll pester you into doctors appointments when you touch down, but for now, he just holds you and talks to you like everything is normal. 

You cover his hand with yours when the pain starts anew, talking through it, pain in the soft line of your bottom lip. 

“Am I hurting you?” he asks. You give him a weak smile. He feels awful, but it makes his heart race. So close, and so pretty, and so upset. “Is there anything I can do?” 

An embarrassing amount of weight lies in ‘anything’. You shake your head, whispering, “Nothing. This is enough.” 

Aaron pulls you in closer and wraps both of his arms around you, hiding you from the others, an aimless attempt to protect you from a pain he can't touch. Someone puts a cup of tea on the table for you, but otherwise you're left alone for the rest of the flight. 

[girlgenius1111]

rather be anyone else

alexia x reader angst + fluff ahead :) r is jealous of alexia and jenni's relationship; she can't bring herself to believe alexia would want her the way she wanted jenni. alexia tries to resolve these insecurities.

------

You needed to get off tiktok. It had been harmless at first, enjoying very interesting edits of your girlfriend. Your favorite clips were the ones where she pulled her shirt up on the pitch to wipe away at her sweaty face. Quickly, though, as you sneakily saved a few of the edits, you got more football related tiktoks. More Alexia related tiktoks. And, before long, edits of Alexia and Jenni. You weren’t naive, and Alexia wasn’t shy about the fact that her and Jenni were still close. It hadn’t bothered you, not at first. Overtime, though, it became overwhelming. It wasn’t just the social media videos, comments, and posts that seemed to pop up wherever you went. It was more so the way they looked at each other. Every post from the Spanish team’s social media sent a spike of anxiety down your spine. They were practically attached at the hip during national camps, always smiling, always laughing. Always side by side. Looking at each other with huge grins stretched across their faces. 

You didn’t want to be jealous. You didn’t want to be that possessive girlfriend that made her partner feel bad for seeing her friends. You didn’t want to be controlling, and you didn’t want to tell Alexia that there was a problem. She’d never given you any reason not to trust her, and it felt wrong to bring this issue up, especially when it was entirely your issue. Your insecurity. It didn’t matter how many times you cried about it while she was away. It didn’t matter how long you spent looking in the mirror, wondering if you were lacking something that Alexia found in her ex. You wouldn’t bring this up to her, wouldn’t add it to her already long list of stressors. 

Still, it ate at you, every day she was gone. You weren’t an athlete, you were a sports photographer. You were more introverted than Jenni was. You didn’t think you were as pretty as her, or as funny. You loved football, but you didn’t play the sport your girlfriend loved. You were just… you. And Jenni was Jenni Hermoso. It seemed so obvious to you that there was no comparison, that Alexia had downgraded with you. 

-----

The way Alexia greeted you upon her return home from the airport should have quelled all your insecurities. 

“Mi niña,”  she sang, walking into the house and immediately abandoning her bag in favor of rushing through the house until she found you. When she did, opening the office door and seeing you focused on the screen in front of you, touching up a recent photograph you’d taken of her on the pitch, headphones clamped over your ears, she smiled to herself. She really was thrilled to see you. 

“Amor,” she called again, trying not to startle you as she walked closer, waiting until you noticed her out of the corner of your eye to spin your chair around. You smiled up at her, barely opening your mouth to say hello before she was smashing her lips against yours. 

She kissed you hard, hands gripping the sides of her face, and you knew, at least, that she’d missed you. 

“Hola mí campeona,” you replied, your Spanish not perfect, but bringing a smile to Alexia’s face all the same. 

“Hi,” she grinned, carelessly taking your headphones off and tossing them aside. “No more work. Come spend time with me.” She insisted. 

“Anything for you, beautiful,” you smiled. Alexia couldn’t help but notice the way the smile wasn’t quite your normal one. You seemed hesitant for her to touch you, which was not a normal occurrence. She pushed this aside, though, assuming work was stressing you out. 

Alexia didn't notice anything else out of the ordinary as you both headed to the kitchen, preparing a snack. You chatted easily about her flight, about your work week. Alexia could see you visibly relaxing the longer you were around her. That is, until she mentioned her dinner plans. 

“Jenni is here for a couple days before she goes back to Mexico. I was thinking I would grab dinner with her tonight before she goes.” Alexia didn’t have any reason to think this would upset you, as you’d never expressed discomfort surrounding her relationship with Jenni. You tensed though, a look Alexia didn’t recognize washing over your face. 

“Okay. I’ll see you later then.” You said weakly, turning away from her to head into the other room, anywhere else so Alexia wouldn’t see you cry. Not over something so stupid. Not over something that wasn’t her fault. She was allowed to be friends with whoever she wanted to. 

She caught you, though, grabbing your hand and spinning you around to face her. Her forehead was wrinkled with concern, and any other time you would have smiled at the sight, but it was too hard right now to do anything other than blink back your tears. 

“Are you upset with me?” Alexia wondered quietly, her tone steady, but her eyes flitting nervously around the room as she addressed you. 

Your head whipped up to look at her. “No, no. Of course not, why would you think that?” 

You knew why she’d thought that. Purely because of your own feelings, you’d been weirdly distant with her. You couldn’t stand to have Alexia’s arms wrapped around you, feeling like the more time she spent close to you, the quicker she’d realize you weren’t good enough. Alexia was touchy, incredibly so, and she’d noticed you dodging the contact from her that you normally leaned into. 

“You seem upset. If I did something, amor, please tell me.” 

“Ale, it’s nothing you did, please don’t worry about it.” You tried, sending her a very weak smile as tears continued to prick at your eyes. You couldn’t cry right now, it would only alarm her more. 

Alexia noticed, of course, pulling you closer with a frown on her face. 

“No, now you are crying. Please, bonita. Dime qué está pasando. I want to make it better.” She pleaded, sounding almost desperate. 

“Can I just… have a hug please?” You mumbled, cheeks burning with embarrassment. She wanted to help, and you still didn’t want to talk, so this seemed like a happy medium. 

Alexia wasn’t fazed. “Of course, mi amor. Ven aquí,” she encouraged, opening her arms for you. You fell right into them, head tucked under her chin. Alexia was a phenomenal hugger, truly. Her hugs were completely encapsulating, enveloping your entire body in her warmth. Her hugs surrounded you with her, her scent, the feeling of her body against yours, her soft lips kissing the top of your head. This hug was no different, Alexia bringing you against her easily, your smaller form fitting against hers like a puzzle piece. The blonde always intertwined her hand with the hair on the back of your head when she held you, scratching lightly at your scalp, and you let out a content hum at the sensation, already feeling your insecurities fade. 

“Mi niña perfecta,” Alexia mumbled, swaying the both of you back and forth in an oddly comforting manner. You were happy to never leave her arms ever again, but she inevitably pulled away, taking your face in her hands very delicately. She could tell that you were not about to clue her in to why you were so upset. 

“I will call Jenni and cancel, sí?” She thought you would be relieved, assuming you were upset that she was leaving so soon after getting home. 

“No, Ale. She’s your friend and she lives across the world. Please go to dinner. I’ll be fine, I’m just overwhelmed with work.” You argued, shaking your head firmly. 

“Amor,” 

“Alexia. Go to dinner.” You insisted, leaning up to press a kiss to her lips. Again, you smiled up at her, but it wasn’t your real smile, and she could still see a hint of something in your eyes. 

Hoping the space would give you some time to come to your senses and talk about whatever was bothering you, Alexia relented, pulling you into the bedroom to keep her company while she got dressed. 

-----

“Alexia, are you stupid?” Jenni asked, shaking her head at her friend. The blonde had finally explained why she kept checking her phone, and why she seemed so distracted. They were almost done with dinner, and Alexia had been acting weird the entire time. Jenni had pushed and pushed, as was her nature, until her ex had told her what had happened. What amused Jenni most was that Ale seemed to have no idea, no idea at all, what had happened to make you so upset. 

Alexia just blinked at her. “No?” 

“You are having dinner with your ex-girlfriend. Who you just spent 2 entire weeks with. Do you know how many pictures and videos Spain posted of us together?” Jenni explained slowly. 

“No, she knows there is nothing between us. We are just friends.” 

“Knowing that doesn’t mean she won’t still feel insecure about it, Ale. She probably is a bit jealous, but feels bad telling you because she knows we are just friends.” 

Alexia looked baffled, and not for the first time, Jenni wondered how someone who came from such a loving family could be so dense when it came to other people’s feelings. “Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh. Go, Ale. Go home to your girl.”

And, although Alexia looked ready to leap through the window of the restaurant if it meant she’d get home earlier, she studied Jenni closely, not wanting to hurt her friend’s feelings. “Are you sure?” 

“Sí, I have other people to see in this city besides you, Ale. Go.” Jenni insisted, flashing a familiar grin at Alexia. It didn’t hold the same power over the blonde as it used to, and she barely even noticed it before she gave Jenni a quick hug and bolted from the restaurant. 

------

Alexia drove home fast, speeding to a level you would not approve of had you been in the car. She was desperate to get home to you, especially now that she realized what the problem was. It was important to her, though, that you brought up the problem to her. Even Alexia knew that saying “my ex girlfriend says you’re jealous” would end… poorly, to say the least. She decided to say that she came home early because she missed you, and her and Jenni were both exhausted from traveling. 

Meanwhile, you were taking advantage of your time alone, allowing yourself to feel the emotions that you were avoiding in your girlfriend’s presence, the ones that couldn’t be allowed out when she returned home later. That’s how Alexia found you, actually, sitting on the couch, frantically wiping at your tears when she unexpectedly walked through the front door. 

“Ale? What are you doing home so early?” You asked, trying to sniffle nonchalantly, while also trying to pretend you’d been doing anything but crying. 

“We ate fast, and we were tired. And I missed you, I wanted to be home with you.” Alexia said. She didn’t look surprised enough at the state you were in, and you grew slightly suspicious that she was lying, but you allowed her to come sit next to you anyway. She was wearing one of your favorite sweaters, and it was instinctual when you leaned in towards the soft cashmere. 

“Hey,” she murmured, letting you rest against her. 

“Hi.” You managed. It was inevitable, now, the conversation that was coming. You had no choice. 

“Amor,” she sighed, once again tilting your face up to look at hers. “Tell me why you are so sad.” Alexia pleaded, and it was this that got to you. Alexia didn’t beg. Anyone. Ever. For anything. The very few times she whipped it out with you, you were completely powerless to resist it. 

“It’s stupid.” You said. 

Alexia frowned at you. “No. If you are crying, it is important, and I want to hear about it. Please.” 

You looked conflicted. “Why did you and Jenni break up?” You weren’t sure how to express what was going on inside your head, so you asked this question instead, hoping it would maybe clue Alexia in, without you having to explicitly say so. 

Alexia looked at you like she understood, though. “We grew apart. We did not love each other the way we were supposed to anymore. We got together when we were really young, and we just were not right for each other. We are friends now but it took a while to get there. That is it though, amor. Just friends.” 

“Just friends?” You repeated, and Alexia could hear the insecurity clear in your voice. 

“Just friends, amor. I love you, and only you. I want you, and only you.” 

You let out a breath of air in disbelief. Your insecurities had taken over your every thought in the past few days, and when you compared yourself to Jenni, you could only see your flaws and shortcomings.  “Why?” 

“Why what?” Alexia asked. 

“Why do you want me when you could have someone like her?” You asked, voice breaking slightly. 

Your girlfriend was almost… angry, she was so upset you were feeling this way. “Mi amor, how can you ask that? Why would I want anyone else?”

“I don’t look like her.” You murmured. Alexia felt her heart break. “I’m not fit like a footballer. I’m not funny like her. How can I be enough for you, when you had her before me?” You wouldn’t look at her, even when she tried to catch your eye, so she settled for gripping your hand tightly in hers.

“Oh, cariño. I love you so much. You have my heart, mi amor. No one else does, and no one else ever could. You are beautiful, so beautiful I cannot help but stare sometimes. I could stare for hours, mi amor, and never get tired of it. You make me laugh, and you make me smile, and you make me feel safe. You make me so happy, mi amor, more than anyone, more than anything. I love you. Te amo, te quiero, t'estimo.” She insisted. 

Finally, you raised your head to look at her, a cautious hope clear in your eyes. 

“You are my girl. Mine. I do not want to have anyone else, please believe me.” 

You let out a shuddering breath. “I love you,” you whispered, swiping impatiently at the tears falling freely down your face. 

“Come here,” Alexia murmured, unable to handle the distance between the two of you anymore, not when you looked so desperate to believe her, and to feel her. She wrapped you up tight against her, for the second time that day, but there was something different in this embrace. There wasn’t anything in standing between you, anymore, no unspoken feelings, no hidden insecurities. You had exposed your biggest fears to Alexia, fears of not being good enough, and she had dismissed them so easily, like she didn’t even have to think about it. 

Alexia loved you so well, so easily. While you still believed she was too good for you, you believed that she loved you, wanted you. Only you. Not Jenni, not anyone else. She spoke so definitively to you, so assured in her love for you. 

“Mí niña, mí amor, para siempre. I am sorry I did not see this sooner, amor. You have to communicate with me, please. When you are upset, when you do not feel good enough. You have to tell me, because you are perfect, my perfect girl, and you deserve to know that. You deserve to feel it, sí? Feel how much I love you.” 

You nodded minutely, content to bury your face in her neck, and let the feeling of being with the woman you loved wash over you, and push away everything else. She smelled like her perfume, like Alexia, and it was a smell that put you at ease instantly, in a way that was purely physiological. 

“Ale, I love you.” You mumbled again. She nodded against you, running her hand through your hair. 

“I know, mí amor, I know. You always show me how well you love me, you make me believe it every day. You love me so well, bebé, you are so perfect. Tan perfecta para mí.” 

The words were murmured into your hair, and there was an unspoken promise held within them; that she would make you feel the same way. Make you feel just as loved. No matter what it took, Alexia would make it happen. The strength with which she held you, the way she rubbed your back softly and pressed kisses into your head; she was already doing it. Already making you feel her love. 

------

sorry this took so long :,) i hope it isn't terrible because i lowkey feel like it is

i love you all very much <3

[apute11as]

Everything happens for a reason ~ Alexia putellas x reader

Author note: The poll was close but I’ve decided to do it as parts as it’s easier for me to get regular smaller posts out with my work and things but I hope you enjoy❤️

⚠️ suggestive themes, slight smut, pregnancy, failed ivf mentions

——

The sun light pierced your blinds, bathing your room in a gentle yellow glow. As your eyes fluttered open, you were met with the beautiful site of your wife’s naked, tattooed back asleep next to you. You knew she’d be tired, as were you after your late night activities that went on into the early hours of the morning, needing to make the most of your time together before a gruelling 2 months likely without seeing each other at all.

You admired the woman next to you, and the way that the light made her tanned skin look ethereal. Tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ears, you pressed a light kiss to her cheek but as you went to bend back up, you felt an unusual lurch in your stomach. Rising immediately, you went to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. After gagging for a couple of seconds, you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, one that surely belonged to your girlfriend.

“¿estas bien mi amor?” she questioned with a soft look of concern present on her features.

“Si carino estoy bien I think it’s just nerves because of how soon the World Cup is and the pressure that I’m going to be under.” you replied patting her hand that rested on your shoulder.

“Ok if you’re sure let’s get some water” she exclaimed, offering her hand and using her other to lift you by the hips.

As you entered the kitchen, she quickly made you water and a warm cup of coffee which seemed to work pretty well to soothe your aching stomach, a sure sign that this wasn’t a bug but simply nerves.

——

A couple of hours passed and you were feeling almost completely better which definitely helped in reducing your girlfriend’s anxiety. She had helped you with all the finishing touches to packing your bag so that you were now completely ready to go to the airport. Despite the original plan being for you to get a taxi to the airport, after this morning Alexia insisted she drive you in her car, claiming that she could easily divert her taxi to take her to her camp from the airport. After a large discussion, filled with many kisses, you finally agreed.

You planned to leave at 8am but it was currently 7:30 so with half an hour to spare the two of you were cuddled up on the sofa, with Nala settled asleep across both of your laps.

“I’m going to miss you so much amor” alexia whispered into your neck, tightening her grip around you.

“I’ll miss you too Ale, but I’ll see you in the final, when we both get there” you replied, kissing her cheek.

“Hmm” she hummed into you, her hands creeping up your jumper and onto the bare skin beneath it.

“what do you think you’re doing love” you giggled as her cold hands made contact with your exposed midsection.

“Mmm gonna miss you so much” she mumbled as she pulled you into her further, startling poor Nala who preceded to fall into the rug, showing her annoyance with a small bark. At this point, you were now straddling her hips, and she was leaving open mouth kisses on your neck on the marks she’d left last night. She then carefully slotted her thigh in between your legs, trying to make contact though the layers of fabric between her legs and your pussy.

“Ale I need to get ready to go soon or else I’ll miss my check in.” You reminded her but she seemed unfazed as her hand reached your breasts and began to massage them. You moaned as she reached your nipples, allowing her to keep going despite the more logical side to you saying no. However, you draw the line when her hands reach down into your sweatpants to touch your pussy. “Alexia putellas segura you are like a teenage boy are you always horny?” you questioned, whilst simultaneously trying to escape her newfound grip on your hips.

“No I just love you so much bebita and I’m going to miss you and these” she said groping your breasts again.

“Ale stop it I mean it we have to go” you say sternly, finally managing to escape her grasp.

“Fine” she huffed like a child being scolded by their parent. She made a move to stand up but not before giving your ass a smack as she shuffled past you.

“You little-“ you remarked as you began to chase her, Nala joining in with her mami’s playing.

After a painful 15 minutes of Alexia touching you in anyway she can, you finally made it to the car with all of your stuff and Alexia of course opting to carry as much of your stuff as humanly possible, the princess treatment ever present as always. And of course once you had begun your journey, Alexia had placed her hand on your thigh for the entire 30 minutes.

Once you finally reached your destination of the airport, Alexia parked up her Cupra and promptly strolled around the other side of the car to open the door and offer her hand to you so you could get out. Hand in hand, you both ventured to the car trunk to collect your bags, and of course Alexia carried as much as possible; ever the gentlewoman.

So you walked over to the airport hand in hand. After unloading your stuff into the baggage section, it was time to say goodbye to your girlfriend for the next two months. What you hadn’t expected was for the tears to form in your eyes so easily.

“Amor are you crying” alexia asked, her eyes slightly glassy too.

“Yes sorry my love” you responded, letting the tears fall without restraint now as she held you tight in her arms, just had she had after every failed IVF attempt.

“Don’t be sorry I’m just shocked you don’t normally get this emotional I’ll see you soon I promise cariño” she stated with a pitiful smile.

“I think I’m just having one of those days my love I’m really going to miss you” you replied

“And I you guapa” she smiled.

With one last hug, the two of you parted ways and you headed to security and baggage check, boarding pass in hand and unsettling feeling in your stomach.

Once you boarded the plane, you quickly found your seat, it was next to a woman and a small child. Placing your stuff in the overhead storage, you sat down by the window staring into abyss. Around 20 minutes into the flight, the unease in your stomach returned and you suddenly felt bile begin to rise up in your throat. Noticing your discomfort, the woman next to you spoke up.

“are you alright love” she questioned with a maternal glint in her eyes.

“Oh- yes sorry just feeling a bit ill” you replied hesitantly.

“would you like travel sickness tablets?” She asked with a smile.

“Oh no thank you I don’t usually get travel sick” you assured her.

“Well haha I thought the same until I was pregnant with this one here” she said pointing at the toddler asleep next to her.

“I was great with travelling but then I just started to feel sick every time I entered a moving vehicle” she chuckled.

“Oh wow I’m sure I’m not pregnant though” you offered weakly.

“Probably but you never know” she rebounded.

“Actually I took a test the other week we were trying for a while, but after the last negative we’ve decided to give it a break” you replied with a hint of sadness.

“Ah I see but those box tests aren’t always correct, I’m sorry if I’m overstepping here but given what you’ve told me maybe it’s worth taking another” she professed.

“Maybe” you said weakly, offering a small smile.

Throughout the journey your thoughts spiralled, what if you were pregnant and the test had been wrong? How would you explain this to your coaches, to Alexia? The sickness persisted, you excused yourself to the bathroom once or twice, but nothing but dry heaving occurred. The likely reality of your predicament began to settle in and what felt like an extensive flight, despite the fact it was only 2 hours, the plane touched town in rainy England and as you stepped out of the plane, all that you felt was dread.

[hyunjinsjeans]

He Knows (Hyunjin ver.)

Chan ver. | Lee Know ver. | Changbin ver.

MASTERLIST

Synopsis: You have been meaning to tell your husband you want to have a baby, but since you have had issues with your periods he is wary of your health. The right time comes when you are with him during a schedule.

Type: Fluff 🧸, 👍 SFW, female reader 💃

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and periods/period issues.

Word count: 3825 words (oopsie doopsie!)

AN: Sorry this is not really a blurb... I couldn’t stop writing :) so if it is longer than the previous ones… well, it is what it is. Also, FYI: I do believe I will post the full-length fic at some point (because yeah, I did write a lot this time...). No real proofreading.

You groaned from the back of the large car. An SUV, the manager had called it. The cameras were already on sight and you began feeling the burning of anxiety creeping up your legs like ants on a tree.

A hand reached out from the seat to your right, it found your knee and squeezed with the ring finger and thumb. You took in a deep breath and reached to put your hand on the extended forearm. To your left, there was a shift as the seat belt came undone.

“It’s okay, they know you already” Hyunjin tried to reassure you.

As much as he wanted you to be calm, he was struggling to keep it together himself.

“Yeah, but I’ve never walked the airport with you…” you whispered.

Han leaned over your shoulder to speak to the two of you.

“If it’s too much you could walk in the back with the staff like you usually do,” your friend offered. 

Hyunjin tilted his head, his large Versace glasses already laid on top of his hair like a headband. His eyes showed little liking for the idea although the three of you knew it was the safer option, as you had done it that way several times in the past and fans seemed to take little notice of you. 

“I’d rather hold your hard through it, but if you’re more comfortable with that…”

Both of your eyes slid down to your hands as his fingers came to cover your hand that was still touching his arm. You let your head hang, biting your bottom lip, you tried to think about it.

“I’d prefer to be with you,” you admitted, still deep in thought.

Han watched you two for a second and leaned back on his seat, to him it was clear what was going to happen and he did not need to intrude in your conversation any further.

To your right, Hyunjin pressed a feather-like kiss to your forehead.

“We can be the last in line then,” he offered.

After you nodded, he looked back at Han and reached out his hand to catch his attention.

“Do you think you could go before us?”

Han hummed a positive response and gave you a smile in time for the car to come to a stop. “Let’s go!” He nudged you.

The airport was crazy. An entirely new experience for you. Whatever the boys ever said about it to describe it fell short to the true madness of flashes, phones, faces, yelling and shoving that went on while you walked hand in hand with your husband. It was true that you had traveled together, but the times you had tagged along you had walked behind them and surrounded by their staff. A couple of times you even got to leave in a different car, entering the airport far behind the boys, cameras already packing up and leaving. This time you were walking in the middle of the chaos, hand held in Hyunjin’s firm grip. You squeezed his hand back and thanked him in your head for handing you the cap, face mask and big sunglasses. You were well concealed, safe from the scrutiny even if you were standing right there in front of everyone. 

The walk to the gate was interesting, to say the least. Fans knew who you were, Hyunjin made little effort to hide you from them after he decided he wanted to marry you. Nobody was entirely shocked you were there, some were curious as to how your relationship was. The dynamic was foreign to his fans, never having seen you two interact for long periods of time as you let him do his thing and got cut from any content if you happened to be captured on videos or photos. 

You sat together in business class, each in a little compartment of your own. A small curtain set the seats apart, though it did nothing to pull you from each other. You two still managed to watch the same movie chat while the credits rolled. Hyunjin took some time to draw in his sketchbook, in the meantime you pulled out your tablet and continued reading a manuscript for work. 

“Is that one good?” Felix wondered from the seat to your left. 

You made a face, unable to decide yet since you had only read a few pages. “It could be, I’m only starting it. But the writer is new so who knows.”

Felix liked to ask about the manuscripts you worked on, as an assistant editor it was your job to get the stories clean and ready for publishing. Your boss always asked you to read a story before deciding if it had potential, so you were in a constant loop of editing and reading, editing and reading. 

You were each caught up in your own worlds when your alarm went off. Phone buzzing on the little table next to your seat. You shut it off and went to reach inside your carry on, quickly taking a couple of small pills from your prepackaged pill case and went to grab your water bottle ignoring the way hyunjin’s brow arched watching your actions. As far as he knew you were not on any medication and you’d taken your vitamins in the morning; so why are you taking some pills now? 

A couple months ago, he had insisted on going with you to see the doctor; you had been dealing with what he referred to as “inhuman pain” during your periods for the last few months. He didn’t know how to help, so he did the only thing he could think of, which was taking you to see someone who knew what to do. Hyunjin had simply had enough of coming home to his favorite person curled in a ball of sweat under a blanket while some drama played on tv. He wasn’t even able to properly hold you because sometimes the cramps were so bad you couldn’t straighten up enough for that, so he had to curl himself around you. The pain would also take away your appetite and make you nauseous. The whole thing was a head scratcher for your husband. 

A good thing was, the doctor could not find anything alarming in your ultrasound and although he laid it out clearly, he gave you two options. Hyunjin had been a little more than upset when the doctor turned to him as if it was his decision what to do with your body. He knew enough about keeping a straight face to turn the attention to you, making it clear it was your call. You could either take a stronger form of medicine, work out more and change your diet to appease your period cramps or you could go on birth control.

You two had not talked much about having kids, besides knowing and agreeing you would be fine having only one baby. Hyunjin was sure he might be tempted to have a second one, but if life was too busy he would call it a win if he managed to give his love and attention to a smaller family. He just didn’t want to bite off more than he could chew. And you were on the same page. 

The doctor sensed you two needed to have a chat and gave you an appointment for the following week. 

You didn’t talk about it a lot. Hyunjin told you whatever you wanted to do was okay by him, but he did remind you that the birth control route sounded a lot easier considering you already had a busy and fast paced routine. 

He was clueless indeed. Even the doctor thought about it. In the meantime your husband was thinking you had a million reasons to consider the two options. And he missed the one that was actually making you doubtful. 

You did not tell Hyunjin anything other than the same you told him when you first started having sex. That you didn’t want to play with your hormones and you preferred to use condoms as a way to be safe. He respected that then, same way he respected it today. 

This time, though… It was a bit of a lie. You kind of hoped he would get it, of course he didn’t. You talked to your favorite confidant in Hyunjin’s group. Changbin. He heard you and knew right away that you declined the offer of birth control so that you could easily become pregnant if you and Hyunjin decided to try. 

“Why didn’t he get that?” You asked Changbin and he simply shrugged, reminding you that he was a founding member of baboracha. 

“I doubt he missed that on purpose,” he tried to comfort you. 

So there you were, flying together to Italy. To Milan, to be precise. It was your first time there, Hyunjin was excited to bring you to his dinner with some big names from the Versace brand. He also could not wait to whip out his camera and spend film after film with you in those beautiful streets. 

Landing was quiet, you all picked up your stuff and you got ready to get off the plane and run along with Hyunjin to go through customs and then have a quick walk out to the large cars waiting outside for the group. 

You were at the hotel soon enough and Chan was handing out room keys. He met his girlfriend there so at least you weren’t the only girl tagging along with the boys anymore. 

You had a room key each, agreeing on using mostly Hyunjin’s you put yours away in your wallet. You rode the elevator with I.N and Seungmin, Hyunjin had quickly draped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you onto his side but he kept a light conversation going with his members. You laughed along and intervened to help the boys pick at Seungmin’s new hair. He looked great but he was being annoying about having to change it again for this event.

You said your goodbyes in the hallway and everyone parted to their assigned rooms. Hyunjin let you inside first and you pulled your luggage behind you with a sigh at the fresh scent of a clean room. You were exhausted after the nerves of the airport shenanigans and then the flight, and then the usual travel stress… Hyunjin had not shut the door behind him when you threw yourself face first into the bed, fluffy pillows swallowing you up. 

He chuckled and it reminded you of the dooking of a ferret. 

Fortunately, you landed in time for dinner so you would not have to stay awake for that much longer. 

“You should have slept more on the way”, your husband commented, pushing the suitcases into the closet space. 

You groaned. “Yeah yeah, I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

Hyunjin dropped his jacket on the armchair by the desk. “We have like 30 minutes before it’s dinner time.”

“Uhmmmm,” you flipped onto your back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I’ll get changed then”

Hyunjin watched you as you went for your white suitcase, you opened it and looked around for a solid minute before pulling out a yellow dress and a pair of sandals. You picked up your hair with an elastic that was on your wrist and kicked off your shoes. You grabbed your bag of toiletries and your plastic shower sandals and pointed at the bathroom. 

“I’ll be quick,” you said over your shoulder and saw Hyunjin nod. 

He decided to get changed too, giving up the well thought out look for a simple pair of sweatpants, sneakers and a t-shirt. He sat down in the middle of the bed with the sketch book and continued with his drawings until you came out of the bathroom. You managed to shower and dry your hair in record time. You changed right there, in the small closet space across from Hyunjin, he looked at you pulling up your pink panties and then a nude strapless bra. You then threw the yellow dress over your head with a huff before fixing your earrings and necklace, your rings shining bright on your left hand. You stepped into the selected brown sandals and turned to your husband. 

He was staring. 

“I’m ready, I did it.” You gave yourself a pat on the shoulder, happy to have freshened up in such a short time. 

Hyunjin turned to his phone to see the time and got a text right away. It was Chan on the group chat, asking everyone to meet in the lobby in 5 minutes.

“Just in time too.” He celebrated.

Dinner was a lot of fun, while everyone was tired it was still fun to walk around the streets of Italy with your favorite people. Hyunjin was always happy to see his members take to you so well, especially the younger ones. Felix, Seungmin and I.N were fond of you like little ducklings following their mother; and you enjoyed the feeling of having younger siblings, having grown up as an only child of divorced parents… siblings were something you could only dream of before meeting Hyunjin. 

On the other hand, you were also close to Changbin. The older member was protective of Hyunjin, and when you were introduced to him he could not help but see how similar the two of you were. He had also seen so much of his own sister in you he was unable to do much more than to treat you in a familiar way; which was great because you ended up moving in with the two for a while before you and Hyunjin were able to move into your own place.

So the group had a lot of fun ahead of their busy schedules for the next couple of days. Chan’s girlfriend was there too, and the boys were excited to hang out with the two of you. Unable to help themselves, would their partners have the same chemistry as they did among themselves? So far, the answer was yes. You walked back with your arm intertwined with Chan’s girlfriend’s. The two of you came from different parts of the country, both were eager to learn about the other and how you found yourselves in such a unique place. Chan’s girlfriend was slower when she spoke, more calculated; while you were all giddy and eager. A true strange pair, but you kept laughing and giggling. Turning to your partners ever so often. 

“They’ll be plotting our demise soon enough,” Chan joked with Hyunjin. 

“No kidding, what are they even looking at? What’s so funny?” Hyunjin had a puzzled look on his face that made the others laugh. 

***

You woke up to the morning sun slipping through the curtains. It warmed up your side of the bed and left a yellow line that ran through the carpet and sheets and across your figure. 

Behind you Hyunjin still slept. You could hear the soft whisper of his deep tranquil breathing. You rolled onto your other side and turned your back on both the sun and the alarm clock that would go off in a few hours. The boys didn’t have to be out until later in the afternoon so you wanted to avoid waking up your husband if he had time to sleep some more. 

He looked peaceful, his brow relaxed and his lips loose - mouth open a little bit. You sighed with the soft squeeze of glee taking over your chest. Hyunjin’s chest moved up in slow time and then once his lungs had acquired enough air his chest would move down once more. You closed your eyes, focusing on how his breathing sounded. Like ocean waves crashing into the shore and being pulled back into the immense body of water. 

You were beginning to feel heavy and numb when his slim fingers found your waist and traveled around it to your back, pulling you closer to his warm body that was now facing you. Hyunjin groaned in his sleep and dug his arm around you higher, until your own arm held on to his back and your cheek was pressed against his neck. 

“Do you want to sleep in?” He whispered, breath hitting the top of your head with every word. “We could have room service, or go out and get a coffee..” 

You took a deep breath, inhaling his strong scent. It was woody and fresh, sweet with a hint of lemon. A smell you were used to being surrounded by at home, where the pillows and the closet smelled like him even when he was away for work. You focused yourself and replied in a whisper as well, unwilling to break the morning daze using  a higher volume.

“I thought you wanted to sleep in,” you nuzzled his neck, “we should get ready and go out for a bit, maybe find a café or something.”

“Mhmmm,” Hyunjin felt goosebumps form on his skin but didn’t pull away, “I’ll take a quick shower.”

Five minutes later, you two were still unable to peel yourselves off of each other, you laid on top of his body while his breathing remained even, an arm covering his eyes. He had to mentally slap himself into consciousness, opening his eyes to the beautiful cream colored details on the ceiling, turning to his side to find your eyes closed and your hair a mess behind you all over the pillow. He ran his fingers through it and pushed his head down to kiss the top of your head. 

“I wanted to ask you something,” he started. “I saw you taking some pills on the plane. What… what were those?”

You opened your eyes slowly and blinked a couple of times, you rubbed your eyes with your hand and tilted your head back to look up at him. 

He truly was clueless. 

“I’m taking some new vitamins,” you explained, mentally bracing for the two opposite ways this conversation could go. “I spoke to the doctor a few days ago, and I was thinking…” you doubted a little. 

His fingers dancing on your naked shoulder caught your attention and you consciously had to find the sound of his steady heartbeat to focus again. He granted you his patience, puffy morning eyes staying on your face while your eyes stared far into the wall.

“I was thinking we could have that baby we talked about,” you finished, at last gaze returning to look in his direction. 

“… that baby we talked about,” he repeated under his breath, he did remember. 

You pushed yourself up, your hand on his chest as you did so. He looked up at the ceiling now, his eyes moving from side to side as they did when he was deep in thought. 

“You are taking vitamins. And you want a baby.” He said. “You want to have my baby?” His gaze suddenly fell on your face. 

You nodded, your hair cascading down your back as you sat up to look at him. Your hello kitty pjs pooled around your waist, the pants’ legs bunched up at your knees. He, on the other hand, seemed to be perfect all the time, having slept in his underwear only his hair looked somewhat out of shape. Dark strands sticking out in all directions.

But to him you looked perfect too. His arms pushed him to a sitting position as well, and you stared at each other for a moment. 

“Who else’s?” You slapped his knee with a giggle, “yes, Jinnie. I want to have your baby. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since we saw the doc that time.”

Thinking back, Hyunjin could see how obvious you had been. Throwing hints here and there, volunteering to hold people’s babies, babying kkami to an almost stupid degree (not that anything you did was stupid in his eyes), being so eager during sex, being so disappointed and grumpy during your periods the last three months… looking up freaking baby socks patterns for your next knitting projects…

“What if it’s painful?” Hyunjin could not help but be concerned. “You have a bad time every month, I don’t want this to cause you worse pain” he explained, reaching out to hold your hand. “And giving birth sounds terrifying!” 

His dramatic side was coming out; you saw it often and you were used to it, but you were surprised to hear this from your husband. He was being honest telling you about his fears of going into something so big and important. He was not wrong about everything. 

“Giving birth does sound terrifying,” you admitted. “But we’ll have a baby afterwards!” You could not help the joyful smile that took over your features. “And I’m healthy, we are safe to go.”

Hyunjin sighed and pushed his hair back. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to hold you and kiss you and have you wrapped in his love, though there was no way he could do so as freely… it was your body, your wellbeing on the line here.

He was a man, but he was no fool; you would give up your autonomy for 9 months to grow a baby - your baby inside your womb. You would not be able to live your life the way you were used to, you wouldn’t be able to travel or drink, you would have to be at the doctor’s office every other week. You would have to give up your clothes and your comfort, take time off from work and see your own body change with the miracle of life. He considered you a little crazy for wanting all of that. 

At the same time he considered himself so lucky to have you want all of that with him. He saw how much you not only loved but also trusted him. You were ready to face any challenge with him, meaning you could rely on him entirely. He knew you would only ask if you were sure the two of you could handle it.

Being honest, he was a little crazy too. And he wanted the same things you wanted, it had always been that way.  

“If we try,” he let his thumb run over the back of your hand, “I don’t want you to worry about it. If it takes time for it to work…”

You nodded in understanding. “I’ll be patient”

“Then I’ll be patient too.”

You jumped to sit on your ankles, “so… is that a yes?”

Your eyes were open wide like a child’s waiting for permission to go to the playground. Hyunjin tsked and looked to the side. 

“Yes Y/N, I want to have a baby with you,” he leaned forward and kissed the back of your hand.

“Jinnie!” You threw yourself at your husband.

It was arms flying in the air to wrap around him, he found himself lying on the bed again with you on top of him kissing all over his face in excitement. 

—-----

Likes, Reblogs and Comments are welcome! Thank you for reading!

[floralcyanide]

— ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴊᴀᴠɪ ɪɪ (nsfw)

After being with Javi romantically for 6 months, you finally meet again when he is discharged from the military.

part one

↝ pairing: Javier "Javi" Rivera/ Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: smut (mdni!), unprotected sex, unsafe sex, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), nipple play, fingering, long distance, read has anxiety (again)

↝ word count: 3k

↝ author’s note: here is part two! I hope you all enjoy (: I may continue this in the future but idk yet. let me know what you think.

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Javi asks you to be his girlfriend the following February through one last letter. The two of you have opted to talk over the phone now. It’s the best possible scenario- one you never could have imagined- to have ended up in a relationship with someone you genuinely cared about and liked. It’s also a plus that you have a lot in common and are comfortable with each other. The more time passes, the more something seems to be missing. After four months of really talking romantically and two months of dating, you realize it’s the physical factor. It doesn’t bother you too much, but it is something you wish you could do with Javi. Whether it’s kissing or holding hands, or other things- you want that. But not with anyone else but him. 

Javi always talks about how he wishes he could hold and touch you. He even gets a little explicit in letters he sends about how exactly he’d touch you. Every time you think about it, you shiver and have to clamp your legs together. It wasn’t until you had a wet dream about Javi that you started thinking about what sex would be like with him. It wasn’t really something that had crossed your mind when you first started talking or even became an item. But that random dream had you frazzled and made you start thinking about it more often. That’s around the time you and Javi started flirting heavily over the phone and through your writing. 

The two of you had decided to meet up again sometime in the fall, possibly around September or October. Those plans are scrapped when you get a phone call one night in August as you settle for bed. 

“Javi? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is all good. I just wanted to call you with good news.”

“Oh really? What’s up?” you immediately sit up in bed.

“I’m being discharged for a project in Oklahoma the government wants me to do. I can’t go into detail yet, but I’ll be coming around your area again to stay with my aunt and uncle until I find somewhere out west to live, courtesy of the U.S. Government,” Javi says, and you grow excited.

“That’s great to hear! Did you want to meet up when you get back?”

“Of course, baby. Would you mind picking me up from the airport? I can snag a hotel for a few days before heading to my family’s place. Sound okay with you?”

“Sounds perfect!”

Javi calls again the next day with more details on when he’d be returning. He’s flying into the same airport where the two of you met, so you don’t have to drive far. He says it’ll be a week from now when he arrives, and you’re beyond ecstatic. Deciding to be bold, you shop around for something cute to wear underneath your clothes for when you meet up with Javi. Perhaps something in his favorite color? You’re giddy just thinking about spending time with your boyfriend. Your best friend nearly keeled over when you told them about Javi finally asking you to be his girl.

“Ah, yes, at last, the curse is broken!” they had joked, and you immediately smacked their arm in response.

But they were right. Your dry spell had finally come to an end. 

The week flies by, much to your surprise, and before you know it, you’re trying to decide what to pack. You decide on mostly comfy clothes and some decent stuff in case Javi wants to take you out. After including some toiletries, you climb into bed and get some rest for your drive tomorrow. 

You nearly oversleep by accident, your warning alarm going off and letting you know you had just 15 minutes before you needed to leave. You scramble out of bed and hurry to the bathroom to wash up and wake up before getting hurriedly dressed. Deciding on doing your makeup while waiting at the airport, you pack that up and ensure you have everything before dashing out of your front door. Taking some deep breaths once in the car, you blast your music and start traveling. After grabbing some coffee, of course. Traffic is thankfully not too shabby on your way to the airport, and since it’s not the holidays, you find parking quite easily. Immediately upon finishing your journey through TSA, you go to a secluded family restroom to make yourself presentable. Some mascara here and blush there with a dash of concealer, and you’re looking a little more lively than before. You find the gate where Javi will leave his plane and take a seat, deciding to doom scroll on the social media of your choice. 

It’s finally around the time for Javi to arrive, and sure enough, a text pops up saying he’s landed. You sit up in your seat and try to remain calm. Last time, meeting Javi was pretty scary, but this time, you’re more excited than anything. Not only because you know him and are comfortable around him but because you get to experience him as your lover. When people begin filing out of the gate, you anxiously await Javi. You spot his head of curls right away, a giant grin spreading across your face. Javi sees you, and his expression mirrors yours. He beckons you to come to him. You all but run and immediately jump into his open arms, wrapping yourself around him. Burying your face into his neck, you realize that you’ll be coming out of the gates from now on when you visit Javi in Oklahoma. 

You pull away from each other and move out of the crowd and back to where you were sitting. Javi cradles your face in his hands, staring deeply into your eyes. Back on New Year’s Eve, you had wanted Javi to kiss you so badly, but not as badly as you’ve been wanting it here lately. Not as badly as you want it right now. Javi leans in and closes the space between the two of you, bringing his lips to yours in a soft, brief kiss. You smile as you pull away, Javi’s hands still on your face.

“There’s more where that came from, I promise,” Javi winks, “Let’s get to baggage claim and get the hell out of here.”

“Say less.”

Javi had a lot of luggage with him this time- as much as he could bring with him, anyway. The rest of his belongings would be shipped to where his aunt and uncle reside. After loading up the luggage cart, the two of you exit the airport and head to the parking garage, an airport employee following close behind. Once your car has everything in it, the employee wishes you a good day and heads off with the cart. You and Javi climb into your car and head in the direction of the hotel, Javi telling you where to turn every now and then. You let him pick the music despite the short duration, but he appreciates it anyway. Once you arrive at the hotel, you grab your bag and Javi grabs his that had everything he needed right away. Everything else is packed away. You’re suddenly super nervous as Javi works on checking in. You try to brush it off quickly as the two of you head to the elevator. Javi reaches over and grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Your nervousness seems to melt away at the gesture. 

Javi lets you know he’s taking a shower the second you step inside the room.

“I will be searching for something to watch while you do that,” you say, “I’ll probably hop in after you.”

“Why not save some water and shower with me?” Javi wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes, finding the closest pillow and throwing it squarely into his face, “Easy there, tiger.”

“I’m just playing,” Javi chuckles, tossing the pillow back at you, “We can have fun later.”

The nervousness creeps back in, but you push it aside and go through the action movie category as you hear the shower turn on. Settling on a movie you’ve seen several times, you get comfy on the bed. You update your best friend, telling them that if you don’t respond for a while, you’re busy with your boyfriend.

“Have fun in Pound Town, bestie! (;” they text, and you snort.

“I will savor every minute of it!” you respond.

“Use protection!!!!! I don’t want any nieces or nephews yet.”

You toss your phone to the side and decide to go ahead and get your comfy clothes ready, along with your toiletries and the cute underwear you picked out. An idea pops into your head as you pick out one of your shirts. You decide to sneak one of Javi’s out of his bag to wear instead, choosing a rather large one. Moments later, the shower turns off, and the bathroom door opens, revealing Javi with nothing but a towel on. 

“It’s all yours, baby,” he smiles at you, and you go to walk past him into the bathroom, but he stops you by grabbing your hips.

Javi leans down to give you a more passionate kiss than the one at the airport. The smell of his soap entices you, almost dizzying you to the point that you can’t pull away. Eventually, you have to in order to catch your breath and take your turn to rinse off. You close the door behind you and collect yourself for a moment before turning the shower on. You avoid washing your hair or getting your face wet, as you showered last night and also didn’t want to ruin your makeup. So, you just quickly wash your body, hop out of the shower stall, and moisturize before getting dressed. You stare at yourself in the slightly foggy mirror, trying to see how you look in the lingerie you got. You try not to psych yourself out and decide you’ve spent enough time in the bathroom, pulling on your shorts and Javi’s t-shirt. 

Exiting the ensuite, you spot Javi on the bed where you were earlier, watching the movie you had turned on. Javi does a double take when you walk toward the bed, a face-splitting grin on his face when he realizes you’re wearing one of his shirts. 

“Nice shirt,” he smirks.

“Thanks. It’s my boyfriend’s,” you climb onto the bed and kiss Javi’s cheek before settling next to him. 

“Well, he’s a very lucky guy,” Javi jokes, repositioning himself to lay his head in your lap.

“Indeed he is,” you say, your hand wandering into Javi’s hair.

Javi moves his face slightly, pressing a kiss to your thigh, “Can he show you how lucky he is?”

“That depends,” you say, tapping your chin with your finger, “How would he show me?”

“By doing this,” Javi kisses your skin again before spreading both of your legs apart, laying in between them and kissing along your inner thighs.

“And this,” he pushes himself up by his arms on either side of you, angling his head toward yours and leaning in for a kiss.

The kiss isn’t short or teasing this time- it’s hot and passionate. You allow Javi to dominate your mouth with his tongue, letting him explore as he lays you back against the pillows behind you. His hands slide under the shirt you’re wearing, running themselves against your warm skin before moving upward. Much to Javi’s delight, there’s a thin lace covering your breasts so that he can provoke the peaks on them with just a light rubbing of his thumbs. You groan into the kiss as Javi teases your nipples through the bralette repeatedly, his body pressed to yours. Javi pulls away from the kiss to move his head underneath the shirt and unclasp the bra from behind, allowing it to move off your breasts. He pushes it to your collarbone so he has full access to you. Javi tests the waters by kitten licking one of your nipples, to which you arch your back. He places a hand on the curve of your back to hold you steady as he toys with the other peak lightly between the fingers of his free hand. Simultaneously, he stimulates your nipples with a feather-light touch and a nip here and there, causing you to throb helplessly between your legs. 

Javi gradually gets rougher the louder you become and the squirmier you get. He’ll sometimes twist your nipple before soothing it with his tongue or roll it between his teeth to make you jerk your hips into his ribs. Just when you think you’re going to lose your mind from the pleasure of Javi playing with you, he pulls out of the shirt.

“And don’t forget that he’d show you how lucky is by doing this, too,” Javi slips his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts, “Only if you want him to, though.”

“Please,” you whimper, “I want you to touch me, Javi. I’ve been wanting it for so long.”

“I’ll take care of you, baby girl. Don’t worry about it,” Javi pecks you on the lips as he slides down your shorts, revealing the dampened underwear in his favorite color.

“Like it?” you smirk.

“I love it,” Javi moves his thumb over the wet patch, making you hiss.

He slowly pulls the garment down your legs and off completely before spreading your legs apart, relishing in how wet you’ve become from his touch. Javi pushes the side of your knee into the bed as he moves the other one to your chest, opening you up fully to him. He wastes no time gathering your slick with his tongue and circling your clit with it, causing you to gasp. Javi has to bare down on your knees to keep you still as he suckles the bundle of nerves. He lets go of one to spread you open further with his fingers, exposing your clit fully to him. Javi flattens his tongue and shakes his head from side to side before flicking the bud around with the tip of his tongue again. He delves it inside of your weeping cunt, testing to see how wet you are before pushing a finger inside. Feeling how drenched you are and how easily you’re taking just one, he adds another, curling them against your walls. You’re probably being a little too loud with how good you feel, but you don’t care and neither does Javi. The combination of his mouth and fingers is doing wonders for you right now. 

“Do you want me inside you?” Javi pauses momentarily, making sure to ask before going all in.

“Yes,” you say, “Don’t make me beg, please. Not this time, anyway.”

Javi chuckles, removing his fingers from you and sitting up on his knees, keeping you in the same position, “Noted.”

After removing his clothing, Javi wastes no time pumping himself a few times before lining up with your entrance. You hope all of him will fit, judging by his size. As he slowly presses inside, you bite your lip and take it. It’s definitely been a while for you, but you take it in stride. Before you know it, Javi is fully sheathed inside you, your cunt sucking him in already. He pulls out before guiding himself back in, the feeling causing your eyes to roll back into your head and your lips to form an ‘o’ shape. Javi curses as he repeats the action, this time a little quicker and harder. He forms a rhythm in no time, pounding you into the bed steadily. He reaches down and rubs your clit in soft, teasing circles as he fucks you. You cry out his name, grasping onto his biceps desperately. 

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this,” you manage to say despite your gasps for air, “I’ve thought about it a little too much.”

“Don’t think I haven’t imagined this every time I had a moment alone on base,” Javi says.

“Is it everything you hoped for?” you ask.

“Much better than I had hoped, actually,” he smiles.

Your leg is hitched atop Javi’s shoulder now, allowing him a better angle. You’re nearly in tears from how good it all feels, the flames of pleasure licking at your belly dangerously. You can feel the knot in your stomach getting close to coming undone.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warn, and Javi pinches your clit slightly before he snaps his hips forward harshly, urging you closer to your orgasm.

“Me too, baby,” he says, not letting up on his pace one bit.

As Javi rubs your clit again, your cunt clenched around him as you cum, your body on fire. He follows close behind, collapsing into you as you both ride out your climaxes. Javi carefully pulls out of you before rolling over next to you and pulling you into his chest. He plays with your hair as the two of you catch your breath. You’re a little disheveled- your bra is still hiked up your chest, and you’re still sporting Javi’s shirt. You decide to sit up and take off both, but Javi stops you.

“Keep the shirt on. It looks good on you,” he looks at you fondly.

You spend the rest of the day watching movies and ordering takeout, enjoying each other’s company. The next few days are like a dream, spending time with Javi and going out and doing things. The two of you decide to remain long distance and see where things go. If the relationship grows stronger, you’re going to think about possibly moving to Oklahoma once you’re done with university. It depends on what happens between you and Javi for the next few months. 

Either way, you’re beyond happy right now. All thanks to writing a random pen pal in the military, you’ve possibly found who you’re spending your life with. It can’t get much better than that.

[cr4yolaas]

to be fragile — iwaizumi hajime

synopsis: to be gentle is foreign to iwaizumi hajime. you teach him through the seasons.

content: angst, bittersweet fluff. fast burn. implied childhood friends (rdr and iwa). pre-relationship, implied post-relationship at the end. timelines are probably incorrect (i haven’t read the manga in a long time). iwaizumi is probably ooc. gender neutral reader. miscommunication and pushing each other away. coworker akaashi. not proofread.

notes: this was a spur of the moment fic. the pacing is very very swift and somewhat cheesy and i kinda just blew through everything in one go, because i didn't really plan any of this out LOL. hope u enjoy :)

SPRING, 2014

Iwaizumi had always been rough around the edges.

From youth, his shoulders had been burdened with the weight of the world, a result of his overbearing desire to be reliable. It grew increasingly evident as he aged. Even more so when he faced you in the middle of the airport.

“Are you not going to say anything?”

He turned around, his luggage following suit. The crowd swayed around you.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his gaze cast to the floor. “I just thought-”

“Hajime.”

Iwaizumi was not delicate. He was not fragile, nor gentle, nor vulnerable. But the call of his name from your lips rendered him a fool.

He watched as you approached him, your fists tight around the strap of your bag. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me anything.” Your footsteps came to a clean halt before him. “I’m sorry if I did something that made you uncomfortable to share this with me. But if all this — pushing me away and leaving without so much as a goodbye — is because you thought it would be better, I don’t want to hear it.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, pretending you didn’t read his intentions. His hand found its way to the hem of his shirt, a tell of his anxiety.

Another apology spilled from his tongue, this time quieter, softer. He braced himself for impact: for tears, for a harsh scolding, anything. Instead, he found himself in your embrace.

“I’m upset you didn’t say anything. But,” you paused, your grip around him tightening. “If you’re happy, I’m happy. Just text me, okay?”

Iwaizumi could only nod. He watched as you released yourself, allowing your fists to return your bag and your eyes to drift away. He waved goodbye, in silence, when you turned around and walked towards the exit. He sat with a heavy heart when your figure was no longer visible, and all he had left to do was wait at his gate.

The promise of a brighter future — one full of success, and passion, and growth — was impossible for Iwaizumi to turn away. Even if it meant casting aside his heart and leaving it in Japan to ache. Even if it meant shouldering the burden of being alone. He never wanted you to see it, in fear of you harboring distaste for him.

When he sat in the plane, Iwaizumi Hajime chewed at his cheek, once more, for he realized he had hurt you in exchange.

FALL, 2019

Against the pleas of his friends, Iwaizumi refused to celebrate his return to Japan. Instead, he found himself searching for you.

His feet were heavy against the asphalt, each second of contact solidifying the gravity of the moment. You sent him your address before he boarded the plane, but before that, there was minimal contact, save for awkward messages checking in on one another out of obligation. Regardless, the dull ache in his chest strung him to your front door.

You opened the door before he could knock.

"Hajime?" you whispered, the syllables of his name seeping from the cracks between your teeth all too easily.

He didn't know where to put his hands, didn't know how to look at you. His fingers found solace in the inseam of his hoodie pocket (which was barely hanging on). The speech he had written during his flight had slipped from his mind, leaving him silent.

You welcomed him in anyways. You had a tendency to do that — to accept him without question. Even if it felt wrong.

"Take a seat anywhere," you spoke, although your attention was elsewhere. The hum of the kettle was the only noise in the room, save for the shuffling of your slippers against the tile or the buzz of the air conditioning. A packet of green tea sat in each mug.

You sat parallel to him. As if to calm your nerves, your hands made their way around the porcelain, the heat of the tea spreading throughout your palms. Iwaizumi slouched in his seat, taking small sips from his mug to make himself look busy. To conceal his fear.

"How was it?"

His eyes darted up to yours, then to the side, then back down to his tea. "It was different. It's warmer there, and the people are louder. I met a lot of good people there, though. I think you would've liked it."

A hum reverberated in your throat. You didn't know how to convey it: your joy at his return, at the fact that you were the first person he chose to see, at him being within arm's reach.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I shouldn't have left like that. I felt like shit afterwards." I missed you.

You smiled warmly, the upturn of your lips filling his lungs with burning hot ichor. "It's alright. I got over it, anyways. I'm just happy you're back." I missed you, too. "What do you plan on doing now?"

"I'm gonna start working with the men's national team, as their trainer. I think I'll-"

"No, I meant, do you have a place to stay? Food to eat?"

He looked away, again, before shaking his head ashamedly. You laughed at his chagrin, your chin slotting itself into your palm. "Stay with me, then."

✧.*

A week passed. Iwaizumi wedged himself back into your life, with ease, after disappearing for five years. Your routine made room for him, now — grocery shopping, for two; breakfast, for two; laundry, for two. You did your best to ensure that he was comfortable, that the guilt from years ago would wash away. And yet, despite your efforts, he was cold. Distant, almost, even though he was around you all the time.

You feared the worst. That, while away, he realized how little he enjoyed your presence. That he wouldn't contact you again once he settled back in completely. That the silly feelings you had burrowed in the underwater reservoir of your heart would resurface, only to be shut down.

His voice in the kitchen pulled you out of your thoughts. You laid on the couch in silence, the calls of your name doing little to quell your worries. "I found an apartment close to my job," he muttered, the words blending in with the stream of water from the sink. "I'll be ready to move out within a few days. I'll let you know when."

"So soon?" you responded absentmindedly.

You watched him pivot towards you, his face blank but his eyes telling. "What do you mean?"

"I feel like I've seen you for such a small amount of time, and you're already leaving. Again." You sat up and met his gaze, calculative as ever. A sigh unleashed itself from his lips, the glass in his hands meeting the countertop.

"I don't want to rely on you too much," he whispered. "I can't. I just- I need to steady myself first." He nibbled at the flesh inside his cheek when you frowned. "I'm sorry. I just don't want to force you to take care of me. You don't have to do that."

"It's not a burden, really. I'm happy to be here for you, I'm happy to even see you after so long. I don't want you to feel like you have to rush yourself into everything."

Iwaizumi shook his head softly, his decision finalized long before the conversation had begun. He escaped to his room before you could protest. His heart sung of somber tunes and a loneliness he could not describe, a result of his never-ending guilt upon leaving you time and time again. He could not help the white hot tears staining his cheeks, nor the heavy breaths escaping his throat. Calloused hands pawed away at his eyes, and once again, Iwaizumi realized he had hardened himself far too much for your liking. He was always too far, too absent. He hated it. And yet, he felt it was necessary; he felt like he would lose himself if he allowed for a moment of rest.

"Hajime?" your voice called from outside his door. "I'll help you pack, okay? Just know I'm here. I'm always here."

He loathed how vulnerable you left him. He hated the fluttering in his stomach, the airiness in his head, the warmth of his skin from every word you spoke. It was a foreign taste on his tongue, one he wished to wash away every time it bubbled to the surface, but it haunted him endlessly. Distance would make him feel less weird, less weak, he figured.

Within a day, Iwaizumi Hajime had moved out of your apartment, this time leaving a small letter thanking you for your care and a bill that was much too unreasonable.

SUMMER, 2020

The heat beat down on your back in waves. Pinpricks of sweat cascaded down your back, evidence of your growing exhaustion.

In the heart of Tokyo, beneath a canopy of trees that accompanied each bustling building and towering skyscraper, a cafe nestled itself in the middle of a busy shopping district. You stood behind the bar five days a week, from nine to five, like clockwork. Akaashi Keiji — a face you barely knew from glances in high school — stood beside you every shift. He spoke minimally, save for rambles shared during late nights in which you were both tired and overwhelmed; all you knew of him was his career as an editor and his tendency to overthink. That was all you needed. Nothing more.

Iwaizumi's name hadn't left your lips since the day he left. The pieces of his being drifted away from you all too naturally. The lack of explanation left too much room for assumption — you believed he hated you or had something to hide from you, anything of that sort. But his existence lingered every now and then — mentions of his work on the news, an ad promoting the Men's National Volleyball Team, a post on social media with his account tagged in it. Efforts to abandon the taste of him on your tongue were all for naught, for he lived in every dusty corner of your life.

As if to haunt you once more, the television propped up on the wall featured his face, tanned and bright and sweaty, an interview about the team's upcoming match playing out on screen. You looked away. Akaashi's eyes followed yours.

"He talks about you sometimes," the boy muttered. His attention was drawn to the wet glass in his hands, his movements nearly robotic as he dried each curve and bump. "Bokuto tells me about it, on occasion. How your name pops up during practice for no reason whatsoever."

You tilted your head from its spot between your sweaty palms. "What does he say? About me?"

He placed the cup down on the counter, his wet cloth forgotten alongside it. Akaashi leaned against his back against the marble before explaining, "Lots of things, apparently. He says he feels bad for leaving you all the time, something along those lines. Bokuto says he never explains anything further than that, though."

You copied his position, the countertop cold against your back. Your jaw grew tense from how tightly you clenched it. The methodical fidgeting of your fingers against the hem of your shirt kept you calm, each thread of cotton consoling the ache bubbling in your stomach. "I hate that. I just- why can't he talk to me? Why does he feel the need to talk about me?"

Akaashi shook his head. "I don't know. Bokuto doesn't understand it either; he says its cuts into their practice time and it gets worse every other day." You didn't notice the drink he prepared for you in the midst of your conversation. The ice soothed your nerves, and you thanked him softly. "I don't think he hates you, for how much he talks about you. I think he just doesn't know where to put his feelings, or how to handle them."

His analysis forced you into silence. Quietly, you began to clean up the counter together, making room for the evening shift. The interview finally came to a close, and the screen flashed to an advertisement for women's hair care.

The bus ride home — which you routinely shared with Akaashi — was spent in thoughtful stillness. His words cycled through your mind, each statement making its rounds before settling in the depths of your chest. Your stop always came before his, and small waves of goodbye were shared before you began ascending the steps to your apartment.

Iwaizumi's contact burned brightly on your phone screen. You never did block him, despite your desperation to do so, in fear that he would contact you in any way. He never did.

You thumbed the call button, with hesitance. It rang three times in your ear before he picked up, the timber of his voice unfamiliar to you.

"What's up?" he answered, all too casually.

"Come over, please."

✧.*

You sat adjacent to him, cross-legged on the carpet in front of your couch. His knees were strewn up to his chests with heavy arms wrapped around them, akin to a child.

"Akaashi told me about you," you mumbled, the words tumbling out of your mouth in quiet jumbles. "He said you talk about me, a lot."

Iwaizumi looked at you briefly before turning his head away. "Yeah."

"Why do you keep leaving? Without saying anything?"

"I don't want you to see me at my worst," he began, his voice resolute yet wavering with anxiety. "I'm at my weakest when I'm around you. You don't need to see that."

Your lips parted, your shock plastered on your face. "I don't understand." He buried his head into his knees while you rambled on. "I just want you to be comfortable. That's all I've ever wanted — to see you truly at ease, at rest, for once. I don't mind." The words spilled too quickly, too rapidly.

An admission of your affection in the midst of your rant nearly slipped past him. His hands, once lost, found their way to your face, his marred skin rough against yours. Your speech died on your tongue, your breath cutting short and falling to a stop. "Hajime?" you whispered, and again, as always, your call of his name dissolved the composure ingrained deep within his bones.

His lips slotted themselves against yours, naturally, as if he were born to do so. The delicacy was alien to his being, for he had only known resilience for years upon years. As you had wished, he felt relaxed. At ease. Fragile, almost. He let go too soon, his hands returning to the ground and his eyes falling to the floor. An apology fell from his mouth.

He prepared himself for the worst. Instead, you smiled at him, toothily, and promised him that it would be okay. That he was allowed to be vulnerable. And finally, he smiled back, his lips curling up tenfold.

WINTER, 2022

Iwaizumi sat on your couch, his back heavy against the cushions. His arms stretched out before him, and under your gaze, each scar and bruise on his flesh was on display. A bottle of alcohol and a roll of gauze were propped up against your legs.

"How did this happen?" you questioned, a lilt of jest to your voice.

"Got into a fight with a guy," he mumbled, wincing only slightly when the alcohol dropped onto his wounds. "Not on the job, if that's what you're gonna ask. We were out and he said some stupid shit. Had to knock some sense into him."

"Uh huh," you muttered under your breath. You wrapped the bandage around his arm daintily, the pressure just enough for him to breath in. "And look where that got you."

He sighed at your remarks, opting to observe rather than retaliate. Your hands were soft, a contrast to his own, and each ghost of your fingertips against his skin left him dizzy. "All done," you exclaimed quietly. He watched as you stood up from your spot on the ground, all while scooping up each tool into your arms. You disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him alone in your living room, his arms covered with your gauze.

Iwaizumi Hajime was always rough around the edges. To be gentle was unfitting for him, and he had always lived in such a manner. And yet, around you, he found himself seeking fragility. He yearned for each tidbit of sensitivity and vulnerability you rung out of him, for he adored the smile that adorned your lips in return. He had learned delicacy from you. And that was more than enough.

[cameronspecial]

Let Me See You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Talking about joining the Mile High Club

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Summary: Y/N has never been to first class and the privacy the seats offer is something new to her, but it is nothing new to Rafe and the only person he wants to see is his angel.

A/N: Inspired by this post.

Masterlist

Instead of taking his private jet home from Spring break, Rafe opts to give Y/N her first first-class experience. Rafe normally doesn’t get to the airport at the recommended three hours before his flight; however, with Y/N’s need for planning, he does not object to waiting in the first-class lounge for four hours if it eases her anxiety. The early time means her head rests against his shoulders, her eyes fluttered shut in need of some rest. The reclining chair of the lounge makes it comfortable for both of them to rest. Rafe can’t sleep though. His focus is on making sure they catch their flight and when the clock on the wall warns him it is thirty minutes until their plane is meant to leave, he wakes his angel up and leads her to their gate. He grins at the sleepy gaze over her eyes because of how adorable she looks. “I can’t wait to be home. I miss your bed,” she informs, snuggling into his side as they take a step forward in the line. His heart flutters at her referral that his bed is her home, “Me too. I love getting alone time with you, but I miss us being in the personal space of our room.” His lips press against her temple and he hands the flight attendant their boarding pass. 

They get onto the plane and he puts their bags in the overhead bins. Y/N’s eyes widen as she sees the miniature space that is dedicated just for her. It may be small, but it gives the promise of a personal space that isn’t typical for a plane ride. As she and Rafe both sit down, the divider between their seats blocks her view of him. It isn’t the end of the world that she won’t be able to see him throughout the flight even though she would’ve liked to. Her desires are answered by a tiny mechanical sound and the lowering of the thin wall. He enjoys the amazement that crosses her eyes. “Woah,” she states, finding the switch he used to do this. She is excited when she presses it and it goes back up. Rafe reverses her action. However, like a child who recently discovered how a car window works, she raises the partition again. 

This back and forward goes on for a while and ends when Rafe lets out a frustrated sigh. “Let me see you, Angel,” he pleads, done with the game she is playing. She giggles at the tone of his voice, hearing the pout in his tone. She gives in to his need and presses the button one final time. Her stomach flips at the massive grin that crosses his face when he sees her. The adoration behind his stare always reminds her how lucky she is to have found a man completely dedicated to her. “Being able to see you is always the best part of my day,” he informs, reaching out to take her hand. She squeezes his hand, “It’s my favourite part too.” Another switch reminds him why he picked this particular flight in the first place. “Wait, there is one more thing I want to show you.” He pushes the button and the half wall that was keeping them apart has now disappeared into the floor. Her mouth drops to the floor. He smiles, “The chairs can be put together and laid flat so it can be one big bed.” She giggles at the waggle of his eyebrows and gives him a little shove. “We may have doors but there is no roof, so you are out of luck,” she points out. He shrugs and kisses her cheek, “I guess we’ll have to join the mile-high club the next time we take my jet.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[irisintheafterglow]

to tell you is too scary (so I'll just say something else)

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: lizzy mcalpine - "pancakes for dinner"

summary: nightmares don't usually translate to reality, but you call sakusa for the first time in years. just to be safe.

wc: 1k

cw/tags: gn!reader and post-timeskip!sakusa, nightmare about a plane crash but nothing descriptive, angst/comfort with happy ending, childhood friends to lovers (??), dialogue-driven, he hates everyone but you

note: yayy first @ficsforgaza gift post for @froggiewonder17 !! i tried out a different layout for the top section of this post, lmk if y'all like it! thank you again for donating to help palestinian families, i hope you like this :)) my f4g masterpost can be found here!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

Your thumb trembles over the call button next to his contact, hovering and waiting for some unseen force to make you stop. Your hand keeps shaking, no matter how hard you try to stop it; the ravaged skin of your cuticles is stained with dried blood from your constant picking and scratching. Dread crashes again in a wave and you find yourself trapped under the water, gasping for air that wasn’t being inhaled. With a knot in your lungs, instinct takes over and taps your phone. 

The three ascending notes of the phone dialing his number sound far away and you unexpectedly heave out a choked sob. He’d probably changed his number or deleted yours. Maybe he would simply glance at the unknown caller ID and ignore it entirely, returning to his drink with all his teammates at the bar. You didn’t know him anymore. 

You didn’t know him anymore. 

Your palm slams onto the red circle and you curl into as tight of a ball as you can muster, disappearing into the corner of your bedroom. It’s stupid, calling him because of the first night terror you’d had in a decade. When you were kids, he was always your first call when your eyes flew open. I’m with you, I’ve got you, he said. He guided you when adrenaline turned into anxiety, when the void outside your window was unfathomably dark. He’d stay until your breathing evened into a sleeping rhythm and wouldn’t hang up until your phone died or you woke up the next morning. He was there every time you were drowning, and your soul didn’t know what to do without its safety ring except sink, 

and sink, 

and sink…

INCOMING CALL. 

CALLER ID: Kiyoomi💛💚

You stare at your phone screen illuminating the blankets like a beacon. Blinking once, then twice, you wait for it to disappear like a hallucination or a trick of your psyche. It doesn’t, and when you have half the mind to reach for your phone, the screen disappears. You’d missed the call. Maybe it was a trick of the mind? 

(1) MISSED CALL - Kiyoomi💛💚

INCOMING CALL.

CALLER ID: Kiyoomi💛💚

You’re faster this time, snatching your phone from the covers and swiping the “answer call” button to the side. It’s quiet on the other end of the line for a moment, but he’s there. He always was, wasn’t he?

“...Omi?”

“Hey,” he says gently. There’s faint noise in the background of where he is, sounds of conversations and telecom announcements. Even with the sound of rolling wheels, he’s still clear. “You called.” Fifty minutes away, Kiyoomi imagines you nodding in the silence, maybe wiping a stray tear with the corner of your fitted sheet. “You’re safe?” You hum a shaky mhmm, still unable to force out any words. He murmurs your name, coaxing you out of your tight ball. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I’m safe,” you reply after a breath. Based on your voice alone, he could tell the night terror happened no more than five minutes before you called. “I just–I’m sorry if I–”

“I’m here if you want to talk about it,” he reassures you, immediately shooting Atsumu a withering glare when he tries to dance up to Kiyoomi’s less busy part of the airport. The MSBY team’s international flight was canceled an hour ago, but he was still trying to figure out if he wanted to stay with his teammates at a closer hotel. The present situation felt, literally and metaphorically, like you were calling him home. 

“There was a plane,” you say in a broken whisper. He strains to hear your crackling voice and shakes his head adamantly when Bokuto and Hinata try to join Atsumu’s antics. Now was not the time to fuck around with him. “You were on it, and something went wrong, and it–There was an accident and…I just had to watch it happen. I had to watch it happen and I couldn’t do anything.” Your voice cracks and trails off, making Kiyoomi’s chest twist like a wrung towel. Your friendship was strained after Kiyoomi’s second Nationals, fading completely until there was nothing left when you graduated except photobooth strips from third grade. He kept your number, though, in case something like this ever happened. In case you needed him again or he needed you, he never decided.

“Are you–are you home right now?” Another broken mhmm. “Can I see you?”

“You’re not overseas?”

“I was supposed to be, as of an hour ago,” he admits, running an exasperated hand through his curls and straightening his track jacket collar. A flash of light catches the corner of his eye. Cameras, cameras, cameras, always. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, continuing, “But, the flight got delayed and ultimately canceled because of maintenance issues. We’re probably gonna have to postpone the game.”

“I’m sorry, Omi.” You hear him shrug in that indifferent manner that always seemed to come down when he was with you. All his walls, actually, came down when he was with you. 

“I don’t care, honestly. My question still stands.” He swallows thickly, begging you to say yes for both of your sakes. When his phone showed your contact photo for the seven seconds you called, it awakened grief in him he thought he’d buried years ago. By all accounts, Sakusa Kiyoomi desperately missed you. “I can be there in an hour. I’ll take a car, I don’t care how much it costs.” 

“It’s–it’s fine, you really should stay with your team and rest,” you mutter, always the selfless one worrying about his well-being. You were too good to him, letting him cancel plans for training camps and tournaments, always letting him go. “I don’t want you missing another flight if it comes up.” 

Too bad that, when it came to you, Kiyoomi had decided long ago he’d always be selfish. 

“Say you need me and I will be there.” You don’t hesitate. 

“I need you here, Omi,” you murmur. He’s gone in seconds–mind, body, and soul. His body acted instinctually, running on nothing else but the sole purpose of getting home to you. With a wad of cash and an Olympic athlete’s intellect calculating the fastest way to reach you, he vows that you would never need to say you needed him again.

Because he’d say he needed you instead.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[venus-haze]

Love Is a Ring on the Telephone (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: When work calls you away from New York, Homelander can’t bear how much he misses you.

Note: Gender neutral reader and no descriptors are used. This fic is fluffy (and shorter than what I usually write) but still a little dark, and takes place vaguely during season 2. Inspired by Bruce Springsteen’s and Patti Smith’s versions of Because the Night (I actually got inspired for a few fics based on various lines in the song). Do not interact if you are under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Some possessive behavior and emotional manipulation (it’s Homelander). Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Homelander stared at the calendar taped to the wall in a desperate hope that he could somehow will time to race forward, and you’d be back home. He missed you terribly, spending the past few nights in your shoebox apartment he had yet to convince you to move out of. It was too cramped and loud for his liking, between your neighbors and the street noise, but he hadn’t realized how attached he’d become to it until you were gone. 

He went as far as pulling on one of your sweatshirts to sleep in, just because it still smelled like you. It was only day two of your five day business trip to a conference in Los Angeles, but each day without you felt like a week that dragged on endlessly. He’d been on bullshit missions from Vought that went longer, ones where he couldn’t even contact you until he returned, his insides shredded to bloody mush at the lingering anxiety that maybe in his absence, you found someone else.

From the moment he stepped into the disgustingly crowded airport with you, a melancholy swept over him. He offered to fly you to your hotel in LA himself, frustrated when you decided to do things the pedestrian way. At least his presence allowed you to skip the security line that stretched all the way back to the bag check as he graciously took selfies with each TSA agent. After all, you couldn’t be a threat if you were with The Homelander of all people. 

He would’ve gone with you, if it weren’t for the ‘Dawn of the Seven’ promotions that Ashley couldn’t get him out of. She nearly threw up while breaking the bad news to him, and he could hear her heart racing even as she practically sprinted down the hallway after he dismissed her. Reluctantly, he stayed behind while you went away, gritting his teeth through every interview and guest appearance. Having been paraded around plenty of Vought conferences himself, he knew damn well plenty of people used them as an excuse to get drunk and fuck around without their significant others’ knowledge.

He huffed, turning away from the calendar and practically rolling his eyes at himself. You’d proven time and time again that he could trust you, that you were the one for him. Still, his self-assurance did nothing to abate the sourness in his stomach, and suddenly, he’d pulled out his phone, ear pressed to the screen as the dial tone rang almost mockingly. He paced the kitchen floor, glancing at the clock on the wall. A little past one in the morning on the West Coast, but you wouldn’t mind if he woke you up.

“Baby? It’s late,” you yawned, the mundane noise making Homelander’s nerves settle slightly. “Is everything okay?”

He chewed his bottom lip, feeling like a schoolgirl calling her crush for the first time, almost instinctively reaching to play with a non-existent phone cord. There was neither pride nor shame when it came to you, only the affection and devotion that he’d spent his life longing for. Your presence soothed him, but your absence made his heart wrench in his chest. 

“Missed you,” he said softly.

“I miss you too. This conference is so boring. The people are weird, and I haven’t gotten a chance to see anything in LA.”

“What’s there to see? You’ve got a hot blond at home,” he said.

Your laughter made him feel indescribably lighter, even when it became muffled by your hand covering your mouth. 

“There aren’t palm trees in New York, smarty.”

“If you wanna see palm trees, I can think of at least five places I can take you that are nicer than LA.”

“I read that some palm trees grow in the Mediterranean, like Greece and Italy.”

“We’ll have to go one day to see, huh?”

You enthusiastically agreed, and he clung to your every word as you described your dream vacations in detail. He’d bring you everywhere, wrapped tightly in his arms from the moment he took off in New York until the two of you inevitably ended up in bed somewhere beautiful and secluded, where you could truly be alone together. 

He wondered what you’d think of moving out of the city, maybe to one of the smaller beach towns out on Long Island or somewhere more secluded in the Catskills. Either way, he’d have a commute for the first time in his life, but he could deal with a quick flight to Vought Tower if it meant waking up beside and coming home to you each day. After years of clamoring for the adoration of the masses, millions of people cheering his name and going into a frenzy in his presence paled in comparison to the sincerity in your voice and steady heartbeat whenever you told him that you loved him. 

Often, he felt like no one else knew what being in love was like, otherwise they wouldn’t make him go on asinine press tours or send you away to the opposite side of the country for a conference. Something so passionate and all-consuming as what he felt for you couldn’t be ruined by distance, and though he could listen to you talk on the phone all night, it wasn’t the same as being able to see and feel you. He’d grown far too accustomed to the warmth and gentleness of your touch, the way your eyes lit up for him and nobody else. 

A loud bang and the sound of drunk chatter outside your room interrupted your voice, and though no human could have heard the commotion so clearly, he could, and his lip curled in response. You immediately apologized, ranting about the people at the conference, most of whom you found uppity and unpleasant, finding networking with them at panels and meals more of a chore than an opportunity.

He looked at your refrigerator, colorful magnets holding up your handwritten lists and reminders, but his gaze was focused on the selfie of the two of you on your second date to the Bronx Zoo just a few months prior. You’d taken the time to get the photo printed and displayed in a spot that was domestic and sentimental, somewhere you and anyone else who entered your place could easily see. His hands suddenly felt cold in your physical absence, and a lump formed in his throat as he found himself on the verge of tears.

“If it’s such a drag, you should just leave early and come home.”

“Baby, you know I can’t—“

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised softly, the ‘from now on’ was unspoken, but from the way he could hear your breath faintly hitch over the phone, he knew you understood.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Will you come get me?”

“I’ll be there before you blink.”

“I’ll keep my eyes wide open for you.”

He smiled, letting out a soft chuckle at your words. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“That’s impossible.”

You were quiet for a moment. “Can’t I try?”

“You don’t need to try. Just being mine is enough, darling.”

Everything in his life had gone to shit so fast, but not you, never you. He’d raze cities to ash before letting you go, before possibly losing the warmth that enveloped him at the thought of you and how much you loved him. Even if he could bottle the feeling, inject it into his veins whenever he pleased, he wouldn’t, not when he had you by his side. He wasn’t sure if anyone could compare. As much as he wished he’d met you sooner, he supposed later was better than never.

You ended the phone call, your voice soft and melodic as you once again professed your love to him. He did the same before hanging up, hastily grabbing one of your sweaters from your closet. You’d always get cold while flying with him. He brought the knitwear to his nose, the scent of your fabric softener and a hint of your perfume almost making him dizzy. Wasting no more time, he left your apartment to make it to Los Angeles before you could fall back asleep.

He knew which hotel you were staying at and the room number, having texted it to him before you left. Of course, he’d memorized the details, and within half an hour was hovering outside of your eighth floor hotel room window, which you gladly opened for him. You were in your pajamas, your small suitcase packed on the bed.

“My hero!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him and pressing a playful kiss to his cheek.

Your lips on his skin made it feel like he was on fire, and he took your face in his ungloved hands, kissing you desperately as your sweater fell to the floor. Two days had suddenly transformed into a lifetime of longing and separation, and as he slipped his tongue into your open mouth, he did so with the intention of savoring you, getting as close to devouring you as he could. 

Squeezing his hips to steady yourself only encouraged him further, a groan rumbling from deep in his chest. Sometimes, you made it so hard for him to have any self-control, and in those moments he almost lamented his powers. His strength made your being with him inherently dangerous, yet despite the risks, you willingly sought out his embrace and intimacy.

“Always yours,” he muttered huskily against your lips. 

You looked at the sweater on the floor, smiling at the gesture. “Thanks.”

“Can’t have you catching pneumonia on the way home, can I?” he said as you pulled the sweater on.

You grabbed your suitcase off the bed, and he took it from you with ease, holding it in one hand, his other arm firmly around your waist. He’d flown you plenty of places before, and though you were no longer nervous like the first time he took you flying, he loved how you clung to him anyway.

[girlgenius1111]

did you think i wouldn't come?

viv x lioness reader post olympic qualification. angst + fluff

-----

Viv head towards baggage claim, not really sure what she would find waiting for her there. She'd offered to uber, but you'd insisted that you pick her up.

She hadn't had a chance to talk to you on the phone yet, and she wasn't sure she really believed that you weren't mad at her. Your texts seemed normal, but she couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling deep in her gut that you were mad.

Even though you promised her before you left that you wouldn't be, and she did the same. She knows that she wouldn't have been mad at you, had the tables been turned. Frustrated with the results, sure, but not mad at you.

She would understand, though, if you were upset. You hated losing. Kind of expected from a professional athlete, but Viv knew how hard the team, how hard you, had been working, and not making it to the olympics would be crushing for you.

So, she'd texted before her flight, offering to get a ride from the airport, and even stay at Katie's for a few days, if you needed space. You'd shaken off her offer, telling her not to be silly. Despite this, as she neared baggage claim, as she neared you, she couldn't help the growing anxiety inside her.

She'd barely gotten a glimpse of you before you were tackling her in a hug. She caught you in her arms easily, although quite surprised.

"Vivianne," you sung in her ear, voice sweet and upbeat. "Congratulations," you told her. You felt her stiffen at her words, and pulled back from the hug. "What's wrong?"

Viv couldn't find a hint of anger, frustration, any negative emotion on your face. You only looked at her with love, and a little bit of concern. Snapping out of her surprise, she responded.

"Nothing! How are you?" she questioned, changing the subject.

"I"m good, I missed you," you said, pulling her back in for another hug. She held you tightly. This was better than she expected, so much better. She'd missed you too, a lot, but she hadn't allowed herself to hope to see you much in the first few days back.

"How is your knee?" you ask, after pulling back from the hug once again.

"It's okay. A little sore, but definitely better," Viv tells you, trying to match your unbothered energy, even though she's completely confused, completely stunned at your lack of anger with her. You nod, taking her bag from her and ushering her out to the car. You continue to ask her questions, talking easily with her as you begin the drive home.

Vivianne is hesitant, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You notice her nervous demeanor, but you know Viv well. Pushing her to talk to you when she's upset about something never works, she had to come to you. So, you let the small talk fade out, as your girlfriend's mind is clearly elsewhere.

The Dutch woman doesn't even notice when you pull into the driveway, completely lost in her thoughts. You nudge her, sending a soft smile her way. She finds herself inside, sitting on the couch, her bags left without a thought at the door. Her nerves and her guilt had only increased since arriving back home, and she was completely unresponsive to you when you join her.

She knows you're waiting for her to talk, watching her face carefully for any sign as to what's going on. Viv doesn't really know where to start, though, and it seems you'll have to prompt her if you want her to talk sometime in the next 2 hours.

"Vivianne, is everything okay?" you ask finally, well aware that something is not okay.

"I don't understand," the Dutch woman responds quietly, staring hard at the couch.

"Don't understand what, my love?" You hoped this would get you to the bottom of whatever had clearly been bothering her since arriving home.

"Why aren't you mad at me?" She asked. Your brow furrowed.

"Why would I be?"

"We knocked you guys out. You aren't going to the olympics, and we are."

"Why would I be mad at you about that?" Viv didn't really seem to have a response to that. Sensing her inability to explain, you continued. "You guys worked really hard. You played a good game, and you scored the right amount of goals to beat us out. Obviously, it sucks, but really, Viv, why would I be mad at you about that?"

Viv elects to ignore your last question, opting instead to focus on the first part. "You all worked hard, too. You deserved it just as much as we did."

"Yeah, that's true. It didn't work out for us though." You respond. Viv looks at you incredulously, unsure how you could be so cavalier about something so important.

"I'm disappointed, yeah. And I was upset, at first, because it was so close, we were so close. But I was never upset with you. The Dutch team as a whole? Sure." Not even a flicker of a smile at your attempt at a joke.

"You're really not mad at me?" she asks, staring hard at you, as if searching for any hint that you were lying.

"No, I'm really not. I'll never be mad at you for succeeding, even if it means that I didn't get to," You tell her, hell bent on convincing her. She still looked so unsure, and you brought your hands up to cup her cheeks gently.

"Vivianne, I'm not mad at you, stop looking so serious. Everything is fine, you don't need to worry. I still love you, even though you beat me," you're half joking again, but you don't miss the way relief flickers across your girlfriend's face. It's like a stab to the chest, realizing she was worried that you wouldn't love her anymore because of this.

"Baby, football is football. It's our job, and it's important to me, but it's not more important than you. Nothing is. Our relationship is completely separate from what happens on the pitch, and I would never let how your team performs change how I feel about you. You'd have to do a lot more than knock me out of the Olympics to get me to stop loving you," you tell her, putting as much conviction as you can behind your words.

Vivianne has the decency to look somewhat embarrassed, especially when you put it like that. She can't help but believe you, honestly, not when you're looking at her the same way you always have.

"Okay?" you ask, when she still hasn't said anything.

"Okay," she says softly, leaning over to rest against you. You kiss the top of her head, wrapping her up in your arms. "I love you too, by the way,' she tells you, feeling your chest vibrate under her with a laugh.

"Good," you tell her, satisfied that she believes you now. "What do you want for dinner? I was thinking italian."

"Eh. I kind of wanted chinese," she tells you, relaxing into your body at the change in conversation.

"Well, you get to go to the olympics, so I think I should get to pick dinner," you say, smirking down at her.

"Y/n!" she complains, not finding your joke funny at all. Alright, it was a little funny. But only because it was you. Anyone else making that joke would have just annoyed her. You didn't seem to be able to do that, though, no matter what you did. Apparently, you felt the same way.

-----

[livin4woso]

Breaking the media

Chapter 3- arrival

You had just arrived in spain when the news that you were leaving arsenal was spread the club hadn't said where you were moving to due to some timing issues and you hadn't done any Barcelona media yet. You looked through the comments as the fans speculated your next club and many wishing you well and hoping you would have stayed longer at the club. While all the messages were nice you knew it was the right call to move so as you stood in airport looking for what will be your ride to the training centre you see a sign with your name on it. After some great force of lugging your two suitcases along the airport by yourself you reached the drivers with a half smile "good morning miss y/l/n" he said reaching his hand out "morning nice to meet you" you said taking his hand a firmly shaking it. Just as you were about to grab your suitcases and begin dragging them back along to the car he took them out of your hands "let me take these from you" he said "oh its no bother really i can bring them myself" you protested but he was insistent.

The car journey wasn't as long as you had expected it to be as you sat scrolling through your phone almost laughing at the ridiculous rumors you could see through your phone even sky sports had started to make rumors. You had arrived at the training ground where a member off staff had met you and brought you to the hair and makeup chair "hola, buen dia miss y/l/n" said the women smiling at you "call me y/n please its more.. normal" you responded as she began her work adding a light coat of foundation and redoing your hair entirely. After 10 minutes you were ready and handed a Barcelona training kit and told this is what you would be taking your photos in I mean it made sense but you would have preferred to be in normal clothes.

You were whisked through the unfamiliar corridors passing room after room each one looking completely different from the other till you reached the media room which was set up with cameras lighting and the contract. Jona was waiting in a chair when you arrived and he immediately stood up "hola y/n so happy you decided to join us you are going to do wonderful things" he said kindly to you. As the next couple hours went by you spent most time taking photos and doing interviews when you were told it was tomorrow when you would meet the team and have a tour of the facility before joining training.

Once you were done you were brought to an apartment that had been furnished and paid from Barcelona as you clearly weren't old enough to pay for it yourself. It was nice,small yes, but it wasn't cramped. You had put away all your clothes when you saw that it had been officially posted you were now a culer and all the media from that day had been posted and as you expected it.You had done it 'y/n y/l/n has transferred to Barcelona for an undisclosed fee' was printed all over social media for a moment it felt like everyone in the world was talking about you.

You woke up the next morning and the apartment was conveniently a 10 minute walk to the training ground because you couldn't drive so walking was the next best thing. The spanish sun was hot on your skin you hadn't been out of england for a long time minus for England camps which weren't very frequent or very long. You had arrived at the training ground 5 minutes early but that didn't matter. You were again greeted by jona the two of you making small talk as you walked towards the pitch, now the anxiety had kicked in you were 16 and going to meet your idols all at once, what if you nade a fool of yourself in front of the team or they dont like you and just to top of the list you knew not one word of Spanish minus hola. The training ground was nice it was decked out with perfectly cut grass and box nets you looked over to see the team training away not even noticing your presence as they were so focused in a drill that until jona called them over they were in there own world. "CHICAS, YOUR NEW TEAMMATE HAS ARRIVED" he shouted across the pitch when each of the girls looked over to you and began to walk towards you, each meter they passed you could feel your heartbeat move quicker. Now you were young but you weren't challenged size wise at 16 you were 5,8 making you quite the impressive feat and one that was taller than quite a few girls on the team. From a mile away anyone could tell you were a defender tall, broad shoulders, hair tied neatly in two plaits, it was obvious.

It was the captain alexia who had been selected to talk to you first " hola, ive heard good things about you y/n" she said kindly almost in a parental tone, a tone which some sould have found to be insulting yet it brought you a sense of comfort. Each of the girls took there time chatting to you, some getting more confused by your accent and led you to having to say things much slower so the others can understand what you were saying. When last it came to kiera and lucy the fellow English on the team "well well if isn't y/n" lucy said almost grimacing "what lucy, you're not happy to see me" you said back "of course" she said wrapping her arm around you as keira did the same you had known the English girls had been told you were coming by leah but you didnt know that they had been told to keep your eyes on you but so was mapi and alexia however from jona. It was lucy who had taken you on the tour around the place "nice innit, and the weathers lush as" she said "yeah definitely, its a change from arsenal but god is it like a different world from sunderland" you said although you had lived in North london for 3 years your north east accent hadn't changed at all you were still a northern girl at heart and one that surprisingly faired well under the sun.

"Well then i bet we better head off back home" lucy said taking you back to the exit "yeah definitely especially before it gets too dark" you said as you began to walk off to your apartment "where are you going? Aren't your foster parents picking you up" she questioned as from what she has assumed you were living with a family "ermm home im walking back to my apartment its only 10 minutes" you said as you began to speed up a little away from lucy. "An apartment you're 16 you can't live alone" lucy remarked but by then you were gone you, she threw her hands in the air and sighed as she knew she needed to have a talk with barca management because you couldn't live alone but you had ran home to make sure lucy couldn't see where you went as you didn't want to make a scene or deal with lucy scolding you.

As you opened your front door you locked it back up and crashed into bed the jet lag from the plane had crashed into you but you knew you needed to shower and make dinner but you had no food what so ever, how you wished someone could make you some home cooked food. So like a sensible person you ordered in food and showered while waiting and just as you had changed into your pjs the food had arrived. It was just a simple pizza but god was it tasty. You ate every last crumb and put the box on your counter to put it in the recycling you climbed into your bed and let tiredness slip over you.