#because the sparkles blur everything???? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sixosix · 11 months ago

Text

STAY, TOO | AETHER

desc you were afraid that aether would break your heart, but that all flew out the window the moment he got sick and demanded only you take care of him

notes wc 2.8k, FLUFF FLUFF bit of angst with reader’s mindset but happy ending i swear on my asia server genshin acc + this draft had been in my docs since 10/15/2023. its a miracle that i decided to pick up on it again and actually finish it !!!!!!! enjoy fellow aether kissers

Evenings were always eerily silent; because of that, your thoughts were loud. Not in the way that screamed—no, it was much worse. It was his voice that whispered, that made you shiver and reach out for something that never existed.

You didn’t know if you were dreaming or if you were awake and letting your mind wander away to a familiar face. Your mind always ended up back to him, no matter how much you tried to stray away. No matter who you talked to, he haunted you. Who you kissed, his face flashed in your mind. You wanted to curse his name out—it was his fault you were like this. It was his fault for deciding to come into this world and rid yourself of your defenses, left helpless to his whims.

“Um, Y/N?” A hand moved to your shoulder.

You jumped out of your seat, heart racing as his grinning face dissipated from your mind. You turned and breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here, Sucrose?”

“It’s past midnight,” Sucrose murmured, her expression nervous, but apparently, she was too worried to leave you be. “I saw light from your window and thought you fell asleep…”

You didn’t even know if you were—everything before felt like a distant blur. Your eyes darted back to your desk, and then your face paled at the sight of a grinning face staring back at you. How long had you been mindlessly doodling Aether’s face? You quickly snatched them away from Sucrose’s view.

“I—I’m fine. Sorry, I did fall asleep.”

Sucrose’s bottom lip jutted out. “This has been happening for too long now. You’re not fine.”

What were you supposed to say to that? You were so hopelessly infatuated with someone who was ruining your life and possibly your job with Mr. Albedo. That would be a fast way to get yourself fired.

Sucrose sat on the chair beside you, her expression determined. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing that serious, Sucrose,” you stammered. Hopefully, the candles were dim enough to hide how flustered you were. It was more embarrassing than serious, really.

“Is it the Traveler?” She knew how to strike hard for someone with such an innocent face.

When had it not been the Traveler, honestly?

“Ugh…” That was a yes for her, apparently.

Sucrose smiled in relief. Her eyes darted around your face, studying you. “What’s wrong? Was he affecting you that much?”

“Yes. Disturbingly so. Like, seriously, it’s disturbing me.”

Sucrose’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “How?”

“It feels like swallowing a crystalfly whole and feeling it flutter around my stomach whenever I even think of him.”

Sucrose’s face turned serious. “What have you been doing to the crystalfies we’ve been collecting?”

“Never mind,” you muttered. “I’m fine, Sucrose. I promise, okay?”

You weren’t. Sucrose must’ve thought the same, too, because Lisa barged into your office the next day.

“What else are you expecting? For him to notice your wallowing and say something about it?”

Lisa’s sweet, melodious voice sounded torturous now when she was poking at all the things you were desperately trying to keep hidden. You sink against your seat, feeling a lot like a scolded kid, caught red-handed skipping chores—skipping responsibilities, hoping to stay oblivious for a bit longer.

“He already said something,” you grumbled, finding it difficult to meet the mage’s sharp eyes.

For someone who sounded as gentle as a mother to her only child, Lisa’s disappointment made you feel a lot more shameful than if she were to chide you in the middle of Mondstadt’s streets.

“A week after we met. He told me he likes me,” you continued.

Lisa’s jaw dropped, a funny expression you’ve never seen on her before. “A week after you met? Let me get this right—”

You groaned, “Lisa, trust me, I know—”

“—Our dear Traveler confessed to you ages ago. When was it when Aether helped us with Stormterror? He’s in Fontaine now!” Lisa looked a little frazzled, her eyes wild. You were expecting her to chide you some more until you saw how her entire expression was sparkling. This felt foreboding, somehow. “He keeps visiting to see you! After all these years of you foolishly rejecting him—”

“I didn’t reject him!”

Lisa hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, but isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”

You were not rejecting Aether. You didn’t outright tell him you’re not interested because you are. He had been haunting your thoughts since you first laid eyes on him, returning from battle, cold breath billowing from his mouth, a pixie by his side, his hair aglow gold, Festering Desire in hand—and, oh, you desired him. It reached a point where Albedo himself had to ask if you wanted a check-up from how much you were burning with want.

Aether had grinned at you so brightly, and you damn near melted on the spot, even in the unrelentingly bitter weather of Dragonspine.

You found yourself liking him for more than his quite literally alien nature, his out-of-this-world body, and his abilities that had your hands itching to reach for a pen and paper to write down everything about him and figure out what the hell he was. Instead, you started falling for him as just Aether. His boyish smile, his witty jabs, his glimpses of personality.

And then he confessed to you—you, no one but one of Albedo’s assistants—and said he likes you, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at the time. You thought of him leaving one day, and then you just couldn’t say the yes that was chanting in your brain.

To no one’s surprise, he did leave. Not to that extent yet, but away from Mondsadt. Even in Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, and Fontaine, he invaded your thoughts as if cursing you for not saying what you were thinking. You could only wish he thought of you just as much as you did to him. Maybe he’d end up hating you, and not loving him would be easier.

“Are you kidding?” If it were so easy, you would’ve already jumped in his arms and kissed him breathlessly. “He’s—he’s not like us. He doesn’t belong here. He’d leave, eventually. Just like he always does with the other worlds.”

“Is that what’s stopping you?”

“That’s reason enough to be stopping me,” you said sharply. “He’s got millions of worlds to flirt with as he pleases, and this is my only one. Who knows if Aether is the type to even visit?”

Lisa crossed her arms. “Maybe you should ask. Communication is key.”

“Even if that was the case, I can’t handle it. I already miss him enough while he’s still in Teyvat—I don’t know how I could live with myself if I let him into my heart, and he’s a world away.”

“You’ve already let him in your heart,” Lisa said softly. “Just talk to him, alright? I’m not the only one worried about you when you drive yourself to a corner like this—especially over a boy!”

“I’m perfectly alright,” you said, ignoring Lisa’s amused smile. “I’m not losing my mind. Especially over a boy.”

You definitely were losing your mind. That boy was Aether; how could you not?

“I think it’s adorable,” Lisa cooed, cupping her cheeks and sighing dreamily. “He’s still waiting patiently. Who knew the Traveler would be so willing to wait for love?”

You wished that it wasn’t like that.

“Y/N! Are you here?”

Crap. Did you fall asleep in your office again? Might as well stop paying rent if this was going to be a recurring thing.

Once again, by routine at this point, you threw your notes that had Aether’s face inked by the edges. Memory be damned, You couldn’t let anyone see how detailed your drawings of Aether are.

“Y/N?” The voice rang out again, and it sounded more familiar now.

You went to open the door and frowned. “Lisa? It’s so early—did something happen?”

Lisa smiled in greeting, so beautifully devious with what she was about to say: “Our Honorary Knight is back in town!”

“Did you come all the way here just to tell me that?” Were people just seeing you as one of Aether’s admirers?

“Of course not,” Lisa chuckled, patting your head. How did she look so good this early in the morning? “He’s sick and needs someone to look after him.”

You wanted to close the door. You wanted to crawl back to your desk and go to sleep, but she had that look in her eye—one that told you that you had something to do with where she was going. And you did not like where this was going.

“So?” Dammit. You really wanted to see Aether again.

“Why, who else better to take care than his dearest alchemist?”

“Albedo is everyone’s alchemist. Sucrose is everyone’s dearest alchemist.”

Lisa shushed you. Why was she so invested in this? “No, no, his. Not everyone’s.”

You felt your face burn at the thought of being his dearest alchemist. Or anything his. “Absolutely not! Wasn’t he in Fontaine just yesterday?”

“Why don’t you go ask him that yourself?”

You scowled. You weren’t agreeable in the mornings. “How did you even know about this?”

Lisa smirked, poking your nose. “Because he asked for you, specifically.”

You laughed dryly—good one.

“I won’t let you do anything you wouldn’t want,” Lisa said seriously, “but would you change your mind if I told you that it’s Aether that wants you?”

And so you ended up in Aether’s teapot, which was hanging around Jean’s office for safety. Jean only smiled knowingly when you knocked on the door and zipped straight to the teapot. You were only doing this on the off-chance that Lisa was telling the truth and that Aether demanded he didn’t want anyone else but you checking up on him.

His teapot was familiar. You had been here a few times, but you didn’t have your own room. That was too embarrassing to ask, no matter how much Aether suggested it.

“Y/N!” Aether lit up the moment you entered the room.

“Aether,” you greeted, and as much as you wanted to hide it, a smile bloomed on your lips. It was hard not to smile when Aether was looking at you like that.

He looked like a mess, with strands of hair spread all over his pillows. His blanket was only up to his hips, showing that he was out of his usual look, and wore a simple white shirt. You were grateful for that shirt; you didn’t want to end up helping Aether strip because he definitely would have suggested that.

“I’m sick,” Aether whined. “Tend to me.”

You would’ve doubted his fever, but it was worryingly hot when you reached out to check his forehead’s temperature.

Immediately, your suspicions fly out the window. Aether was burning, and you were the only one in the same room (teapot?) who should take care of him. The Honorary Knight was reduced to a fever.

You cupped his cheek and watched as Aether pressed his face closer. “Does your head hurt?”

“Yes.”

You tore your hand off. “I’ll make something to ease the pain.”

“You can ease it right now. By kissing it away.”

“Aether,” you sighed. Unbelievable. How did he still have enough energy for this while positively rotting on his bed? “Take this seriously. I haven’t seen you this sick— Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you sick. How did this even happen?”

“Stayed too long underwater,” he said.

Aether? Getting sick from swimming? You made a face, which Aether laughed softly at.

“No, seriously. It was an emergency commission. Even when I had to resurface, it was pouring. Someone was making the Hydro Dragon cry hard yesterday.” Aether’s face scrunched as he looked up at you with round eyes. “I was so cold.”

Although it sounded absurd that Aether would get a fever from that, you suppose that having to stay drenched for a long time would affect even someone like him. You couldn’t even imagine having to shiver your way back to Mondstadt after being thoroughly drenched the whole day.

You pulled the blanket further up Aether’s chest. Even if you suspected he was lying, he was trembling underneath the covers.

“Alright.” You’ll believe him because right now, it is a fact that Aether is undoubtedly sick.

You were well aware that he was and sounded like he was dying, but he looked cute, flushed, and staring at you expectantly. It felt nice to be needed by someone like him—made him feel less like a faraway dream.

You cleared your throat and looked away; you knew you looked flustered. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Why? Will you cook for me?” he asked.

You knew how to cook, but for someone who had traveled regions and tasted all kinds of foods, you would probably disappoint. Still, it wasn’t time for a competition with other chefs in Liyue or Fontaine. Aether needed food to fill his stomach.

“Any suggestions?” You hoped for nothing unfamiliar and crazy. You loved Aether, but having to fetch ingredients from oceans away was too much.

“Make it with love,” Aether said cheekily because he was a bastard who didn’t have any mercy on your heart.

And so you left the room and ignored Aether, laughing and coughing as he called after you. You had to leave either way—your chest was almost as warm as Aether’s forehead.

You decided to make a Radish Veggie Soup. You hoped Aether wasn’t too picky about his vegetables. The water was comfortably cold, enough to make you search around his cupboards for towels to soak it into. As you waited for the water to boil, you decided to check up on Aether again.

He was still lying there, but with his eyes closed now. You felt terrible seeing someone you witnessed defeat dragons battling a fever. You drew closer and placed the towel on his head. He didn’t flinch at the stark change of temperature, but he did react instantly, his warm hand clasping your wrist.

“Stay,” Aether rasped.

You bit your lip, your heart sinking. Was he dreaming about his sister? You always worried when he was feeling down because of their separation.

But then his eyes opened, and he stared right at you. “Y/N,” he said, “please stay.”

“I can’t.”

“Just this once.” Aether’s voice sounded so quiet, so unsure of himself.

You really couldn’t. You had a Radish Veggie Soup to attend to.

“I’m staying,” Aether said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the bed. “I’m staying here for you.”

You frowned. “Don’t lie to make me feel better right now. That would hurt more when you have to leave.”

Aether’s face softened impossibly. “I’m not lying. I’m telling you the truth—I’m not leaving Teyvat. Even if I find my sister, I’m staying.”

Seriously? Just like that? “What made you change your mind?”

You couldn’t tell if Aether was blushing or if it was his fever. “How could I leave Teyvat when I see how cute you look taking care of me?”

You threw a pillow to his face.

He swerved away and laughed brightly. “I’m joking! I’m joking—drop that pillow, please. I’m kidding. Well, sort of.”

His face was once again attempted to get assaulted by another pillow. Aether grinned as he blocked it off with an arm.

“For someone so sick, you seem awfully lively,” you said, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You breathe life into me; what can I say?”

You groaned. You couldn’t deal with this today—you needed at least three business days to process this and find another reason to reject him. Yet, as you moved to get some fresh air (anything to get Aether’s stupid face out of your view), a hand abruptly reached for your wrist.

Aether’s face was close to yours in a blink of an eye. His breath was hot on your face. “I’m serious,” he said, “so if— if you feel the same way, the least you can do is stay, too.”

“I— You—” You gaped at him. That sounded like it could be a proposal. Who would’ve thought—the Outlander, the Traveler, begging for you to stay?

Aether’s gaze flicked to your lips.

“Don’t kiss me,” you said in warning. “Are you an idiot? You’re sick!”

“That’s fine. I get to take care of you when you do,” Aether said.

Your face paled. “No! I have a job, Aether—”

Aether frowned. “And I have a world to save, but that can wait. We’re busy.”

You pushed his face away, his laugh smothered by your palm. “No, we are not. I’m busy making food for your sorry ass, away from you.”

Aether’s face crumpled. “Do you actually not want to kiss?”

Not when he’s sick and snotty, yeah.

Instead, you leaned in to kiss his forehead to make up for it. It was brief and faint, but Aether looked satisfied, smiling softly when you pulled away. It would do for now.

“I’m staying,” you said. “So long as you do, too. I’ll stay with you.”

THE SOUP TURNED OUT OKAY STILL. this is just how my mom takes care of me when im sick LOL but the idea of doing it to a sick aether was too good i had to write a fic about it. also i love angst about aether being the traveler aaghgh

thank u sm for reading. as always, lmk what u think and i hope u liked it!! <3

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #aether x reader #aether x you #aether x y/n #genshin x y/n

1K notes · View notes

won4kiss · 5 months ago

Text

⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE.

𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. husband! park sunghoon x fem! reader synopsis. you and sunghoon swore to be faithful to each other, unfortunately sunghoon couldn’t keep that promise. genre. angst ,, wc. 2012. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ guys…how r we liking the layout 🤭.. 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂. | part 2

if you enjoyed reading ,, pls like and reblog !! ‹𝟹 it helps out a lot ¡!

the past year had been a painful rollercoaster of emotions, each high point you’ve had has been followed by a devastating low. you remembered the countless amount of nights you waited for sunghoon, watching the clock tick away the hours as he stayed out late, you had gotten so used to the sound.

the scent of his cologne lingering on his clothes when he finally came home, the way his tie was undone, the way he avoided your gaze when you asked where he'd been. your accusations of him being unfaithful were met with immediate denials, his words cutting deep even as he tried to reassure you that you were his one and only love.

"i would never cheat on you, y/n" he'd say, pulling you into his arms.

"you're my everything." he would say with that look in his eyes, with both love and a conflict he is fighting deep within himself.

and you believed him, of course you would. he’s the same boy who courted you for six months in university because he was so deeply in love with you, the same man who flew you both to hawaii and gave you the most magical proposal ever to be done.

you tried to hold onto the love and trust that had once been so strong, so unshakeable. but each forgotten date, each broken promise chipped away at your trust, leaving you feeling hollow and alone.

today, on the morning of your anniversary, you awoke with a sense of something different, hope for you and sunghoon.

this would be the day you reminded sunghoon of the love you still had for him, and always will. the love that had brought you together in the first place.

you spent hours in the kitchen, preparing his favorite dishes, your hands moving with practiced ease as you cooked. the smell of his favourite kimchi stew and freshly made kimbap filled the air, the same cooking he said he would never ever get tired of.

the scents mingling with the hope that maybe, just maybe, this would be the gesture that rekindled sunghoon’s love for you, you missed his touch, his kisses, the sparkle in his eyes, he still has it- but nowadays all he could really do is look down.

as you wrapped a red bow around the lunchbox, you grinned, perfect.

you drove to his office, each mile a reminder of the distance that had grown between you. as you walked through the lobby, your heart pounded with a mix of anticipation, fear, and longing.

the elevator ride seemed to take forever, the seconds stretching out as you rehearsed what you would say, how you would greet him, how you would kiss him.

but nothing in the world could have prepared you for the sight that met you when you opened the door to his office. sunghoon, your husband, the man you had vowed to love and cherish, for better or for worse, was locked in an embrace with his secretary, their lips moving together in a kiss that was all too passionate, all too real.

the box slipped from your hands, the sound of shattering glass, some pieces piercing your legs barely registering as you stood frozen in place.

you felt like you had been stabbed in the heart, you had never felt heartbreak before, and you didn’t understand people when they said everything hurt, now you did.

"y/n," sunghoon's voice broke through the fog of your shock, his eyes wide with panic as his hands trembled.

the hand with your wedding ring trembling.

"this isn't what it looks like honey,”

your chest tightened at the name, the name he couldn’t be bothered to address you as in months.

tears blurred your vision as you shook your head. the pain was unbearable, a physical ache that made it hard to breathe. without a word, you turned and fled, the sound of sunghoon calling your name fading as you ran. the drive home was a blur, sobbing as you got concerned looks from other cars, you were not in any shape to be driving, really.

but you didn’t care- your mind was reeling with the betrayal you had just witnessed.

at home, the same home you and sunghoon bought a month after your marriage- the home with six bedrooms because that was how many kids sunghoon wanted to have with you, the same home where you and sunghoon had late night talks, wrapped in each others embrace.

you moved through the house like a ghost, avoiding staring at the picture frame at the end of the hall, a picture taken on your wedding day.

your hands mechanically packing your belongings. each item you placed in your suitcase felt like another piece of your heart being chipped away.

you were almost finished when you heard the front door slam open, sunghoon's frantic footsteps echoing through the house.

“y/n-“

he cut himself off at the sight before him- the suitcase being packed, the sight of the wardrobe being oddly empty because your clothes would always be overflowing it.

"y/n, no.. please," he begged, sobbing as he fell to his knees before you. "don't leave me. i can't live without you, i won’t do it ever again."

you looked down at him, your heart aching with a mix of love and complete despair.

even after what he did to you, all you wanted to do was to be held by him again, all you wanted all these months was for him to finally long for you like you longed for him- how unfortunate the circumstances were, you thought.

his tears fell down his glass cheeks, his hands trembling as he reached out to you, you shivered at his touch, it felt so foreign, unfamiliar.

"i made a mistake," he cried, his voice raw with emotion. "i love you more than anything in this whole world. please, give me another chance- i’ll make you the happiest girl in the world, we’ll have six kids and we’ll grow old together!”

your mind wavered for a moment, the memories of your life together flashing through your mind. the happiest memories of your life with sunghoon in them, but you knew that staying would only be betraying yourself, that the trust between you had been shattered much beyond repair.

leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, it wasn’t for him, it was for yourself. the taste of his tears mingling with your own.

"goodbye, hoon," you whispered, your voice breaking. "i hope you find the happiness you couldn't find with me."

with a final look at the man who had once been your everything, you turned and walked out the door, the sound of your suitcase trailing behind you as you tried to keep your composure at the hysterical sobbing from sunghoon behind you.

the drive to your best friend heeseung's house was filled with the sound of your sobs and screaming, each mile taking you further from the life you had known.

when he opened the door, heeseung’s heart dropped. his eyes filled with concern at the sight of you. he pulled you into his arms without a word.

"it's okay, y/n," he murmured, his voice a soothing whisper to your wounded heart. "i'm here for you, im not leaving."

you clung to him, your tears soaking his shirt as you let out all the pain and heartache that had been building inside you. heeseung's presence was a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions, his embrace a reminder that you were not alone.

as the night wore on, you found solace in the company of your best friend, knowing that you had made the right choice, even though it had shattered your heart into delicate pieces, pieces you didn’t know could be fixed.

in heeseung's arms, you allowed yourself to grieve the loss of the love you had once believed in, the loss of your best friend, and lover. the betrayal, the heartbreak, all of it poured out in waves of tears and hushed sobs.

heeseung listened to you without interruption, his presence feeling like a heavy blanket over you and the world, comfort as you navigated the gut wrenching feeling in your heart.

"it's not your fault, love" he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your tear-streaked face.

"you did everything you could." he said looking at you with a gaze in which you didn’t notice, you never did. the gaze you’d given sunghoon for years, the gaze he gave you long before you’d even met sunghoon.

"but it wasn't enough, hee" you replied, your tears rolling down your cheeks, voice raspy from all the sobbing, it was barely above a whisper.

"i wasn't enough."

heeseung shook his head, his expression filled with an ache in his heart and anger at your self doubt. "no, y/n. you are enough. you always have been. sunghoon's mistakes don't define your worth, he’s the dumbest man to ever live, i’d do anything to have you."

you turned to him, bewildered at his words. you looked down at his shaking hands as you sobbed wrapping your arms around him.

“i’m so sorry, hee. i’m selfish, you don’t deserve this- you should tell me to leave-“

he cut you off with a hard hug, you cried harder as his own tears soaked your bare neck.

“don’t say that- i don’t care if i get hurt, or you use me, i don’t. all i need is you beside me, okay? don’t worry about anything.”

his words, though comforting, couldn't fully erase the pain that lingered in your heart. but in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your best friend's embrace, the love that radiates off of his body.

you felt a glimmer of hope, you were in no shape of moving on just yet, the road ahead would be difficult, filled with moments of utter pain and sorrow, but you knew that you wouldn't have to face it alone.

as the orange sunset began to filter through the windows, you found yourself at a break from the pain in your heart, staring out at the view in peace. heeseung's steady breathing beside you, the quiet hum of the world settling down, it all felt like a promise that everything would be okay.

you took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs, and allowed yourself to believe that maybe, you would find happiness again.

with heeseung by your side, you faced the days ahead with strength. the pain of sunghoon's betrayal would always be a part of you forever, but it wouldn't define you. in the embrace of heeseung and the promise of a new beginning, you found the courage to move forward, one step at a time.

taglist open <3 @luvlyhee @sjyunnsworld @shawnyle

#꒰ luna works! ꪆ୧ ꒱ *.⊹˚#enchive #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfic #enha imagines #park sunghoon imagine #park sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fanfic #enhypen scenarios #enha fanfic #lee heeseung fanfic

447 notes · View notes

littlelamy · 1 month ago

Note

hi!! love ur work!!

dk if ur accepting requests rn, but was wondering if you could write smth about pop star!reader & drew (or just overall singer!reader). i saw someone talking about it and i cant get it off of my mind

a/n: thank you so much for sending a request!💗

it was another sold-out show. another city. another wave of excitement from thousands of fans packed into a venue, shouting your name and hanging onto every note that poured out of you. the adrenaline rush of performing live was unmatched, the kind of high that no drug could ever replicate. but after a month of touring nonstop, even the thrill of being on stage started to wear thin.

it wasn’t that you didn’t love it. you did—every bit of it. from the screaming fans to the electric energy in the air, it was everything you’d dreamed of when you first started in the music industry. but there was a part of you that felt off-balance, like you were running on empty. touring was exhausting, the never-ending cycle of cities, rehearsals, and interviews blurring together into one chaotic whirlwind.

and then there was him.

drew.

it had been a month since you’d last seen him in person. one long, torturous month of late-night facetime calls, texts that never seemed to come at the right time because of your conflicting schedules, and longing that seemed to grow worse with every passing day. while you were hopping from city to city, drew had been just as busy with his projects—filming, press events, photoshoots. you understood. you were both caught up in your careers, chasing dreams that had taken years of hard work to build. but understanding didn’t make it easier. you missed him. every part of him.

the smell of his cologne, the way his voice sounded when he whispered in your ear late at night, the feeling of his arms around you when the world felt too big. it was starting to wear you down, the ache of wanting him by your side and knowing that, for now, it wasn’t possible. every facetime call ended with a hollow sort of emptiness, as if the screen between you was a barrier you couldn't break through no matter how much you wanted to.

the show tonight had gone off without a hitch, but you couldn’t shake the weird feeling lingering at the back of your mind, like something was missing. the lights dimmed as the crowd roared, the final note hanging in the air. you threw your arms up, shouting your thanks into the microphone before jogging off stage, your heart still racing from the energy of the crowd. the crew backstage clapped and congratulated you, but your mind was elsewhere.

“great show tonight,” your tour manager said as you handed off your mic and took a long sip of water, your body still buzzing from the performance.

“thanks,” you replied absentmindedly, brushing a hand through your sweaty hair. all you could think about was your hotel room. a long, hot shower. maybe a glass of wine. and then another lonely night where you’d scroll through the hundreds of pictures of drew on your phone, wishing he was there.

you were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice him at first.

as you turned the corner into the quieter part of the backstage area, something caught your eye. a figure leaning casually against the wall, hands tucked into his pockets, a soft smile playing on his lips. your heart nearly stopped.

it was him.

drew.

you blinked, unsure if you were hallucinating from exhaustion, or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. but no, there he was, standing there in a black hoodie and jeans, looking like he had just stepped out of one of your dreams.

“surprise,” he said with a smirk, his voice calm, but his eyes sparkling with mischief.

your body moved before your brain could catch up, your feet propelling you toward him at full speed. you practically launched yourself into his arms, your face burying in his chest as you held onto him tightly. “oh my god,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his hoodie. “what are you doing here?”

his arms wrapped around you, strong and warm, just the way you remembered. “i missed you,” he said simply, his lips brushing against your hair as he spoke. “i couldn’t stay away any longer.”

you pulled back, just enough to look up at him, your eyes wide with disbelief. “you didn’t even tell me you were coming,” you whispered, your heart hammering in your chest.

he grinned, that playful smile that always made your stomach flip. “that’s kinda the point of a surprise, babe.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you, where all the stress and loneliness of the last month had been building. seeing him now, standing right in front of you, made everything else fade away. the exhaustion, the homesickness, the long nights spent staring at your phone—it all disappeared.

“i can’t believe you’re really here,” you said softly, your hands coming up to cup his face, your fingers tracing the familiar lines of his jaw, his cheekbones. you wanted to memorize every inch of him, just in case this was another one of those fleeting moments that would be over too soon.

“i wasn’t gonna miss the chance to see you perform,” he said, his voice low and full of affection. “you’re amazing out there.”

you felt a blush creep up your neck at his words. even after all this time, he still had that effect on you. “i’m better when you’re here,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “it’s not the same without you.”

drew’s eyes softened, and he leaned down to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender way that made your heart swell. the kiss was slow at first, gentle and unhurried, like he was savoring every second of it. you melted into him, your hands slipping up into his hair as you kissed him back, all the longing and frustration of the past month pouring into that one moment.

when you finally pulled back, breathless and a little dizzy, he rested his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your lower back. “i’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “i’m here. for as long as you need me.”

you closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. the relief washed over you like a wave, the tension in your shoulders finally easing as you let yourself relax in his arms. “i need you,” you admitted softly. “i always need you.”

drew’s arms tightened around you, and he kissed you again, this time with more urgency, more need. the world around you seemed to blur as the kiss deepened, your bodies pressing closer together as if you couldn’t get enough of each other. his hands roamed over your back, slipping under the hem of your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“God, i’ve missed this,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin. “missed you.”

your fingers tangled in his hair as you kissed him harder, the sound of your breathing filling the empty hallway. you backed up against the wall without even realizing it, your back pressing against the cool surface as drew’s body pressed against yours. the intensity of the moment was overwhelming, the need to be close to him, to feel him, taking over every rational thought in your mind.

he kissed his way down your jaw, his lips trailing over your neck as your head fell back against the wall, a soft moan escaping your lips. “drew,” you whispered, your voice shaky with need.

“i know,” he murmured against your skin, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed his body against yours, his lips working their way back up to yours. “i know.”

the kiss turned desperate, almost frantic, like you were trying to make up for all the lost time in one single moment. his hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer, as if he was afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you looked up at him, your lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss. “i don’t know if i’m ever gonna let you leave again,” you admitted breathlessly, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

drew chuckled, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his own breath. “i wouldn’t mind that,” he said, his voice low and rough. “i’d stay right here with you forever if i could.”

you smiled up at him, your heart swelling with love and relief. “good,” you whispered, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you leaned in to kiss him again, this time slower, softer, like you had all the time in the world.

the kiss was sweet, full of promise and love, and for the first time in weeks, everything felt right again.

as the noise from the crew and backstage workers started to filter back into your awareness, you reluctantly pulled away, your lips still tingling from the kiss. “we should probably—”

drew grinned, his eyes sparkling as he cut you off with another quick kiss. “we’ve got time,” he murmured against your lips. “let’s not rush.”

you smiled, your heart swelling with happiness as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. for now, it didn’t matter that the tour was still going, that you had more cities to visit, more shows to perform. all that mattered was that he was here, with you.

and you weren’t letting him go anytime soon.

the next couple of hours passed in a blur. after the initial surprise wore off, you and drew managed to steal away into one of the more private areas backstage, where you could just be together without any interruptions. sitting side by your side on a worn-out couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, you finally felt a calm wash over you that you hadn’t felt in weeks. it was like everything settled back into place just by having him near you.

“so,” drew said after a while, his fingers absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair, “how many more shows do you have left?”

“three,” you replied, tilting your head to look up at him. “just three more, and then i’m back home.”

“home, huh?” he teased, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “you mean where i’ll be waiting for you with takeout and a bottle of wine?”

you laughed softly, nodding. “exactly that. except maybe i’ll be the one bringing the wine.”

he chuckled, his thumb gently tracing circles on your shoulder. “deal. can’t wait. but for now, i’m all yours for the rest of tonight.”

you leaned your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “i still can’t believe you’re here,” you murmured, your voice soft with contentment. “you really surprised me.”

“i wanted to,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “i knew how hard this month’s been for both of us. couldn’t stand being away from you any longer.”

your heart swelled at his words. there was something so comforting about having him close again, the kind of comfort that only came with someone who knew you inside and out. even with busy lives, drew always made sure you felt like the most important thing in his world.

“i love you,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you even realized it. it wasn’t the first time you’d said it, but every time felt just as meaningful, just as true.

drew’s arms tightened around you, his lips brushing against your forehead. “i love you too,” he whispered back, his voice full of emotion. “always.”

for a while, the two of you just sat there in peaceful silence, holding onto each other like the rest of the world didn’t exist. it was a rare, precious moment where time seemed to slow down, and you could just be. no pressures, no responsibilities—just you and drew, wrapped up in each other.

eventually, though, reality crept back in.

“you’ve got an early call tomorrow,” you reminded him reluctantly, your voice tinged with disappointment. “and i have to be at soundcheck.”

“i know,” he sighed, pulling back just enough to look down at you. “but i’ll be here, alright? for the rest of the tour.”

you blinked in surprise. “wait, you’re staying?”

“yeah,” drew said, his smile widening as he nodded. “i cleared my schedule. i’m not letting you finish this tour alone.”

a wave of relief and happiness washed over you, and you couldn’t help the huge smile spreading across your face. “drew, are you serious?”

“dead serious.” he grinned, leaning in to kiss you again, his lips soft and warm against yours. “we’re doing this together.”

tears of happiness welled up in your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away, overwhelmed by how much love you felt for him in that moment. “i can’t believe you’d do that for me.”

“i’d do anything for you,” he said softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “you know that.”

you kissed him again, slow and sweet, savoring the feel of his lips against yours. the exhaustion from the tour, the long nights apart, the stress—it all melted away, leaving only the warmth of his presence, the comfort of knowing you weren’t alone anymore.

as you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your eyes closed as you breathed him in. “i don’t know what i did to deserve you.”

drew chuckled, his fingers gently tracing your jawline. “i’m the lucky one,” he murmured. “believe me.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

#drew #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew st #drew starkey #drew starkey x you #obx #obx drew #obx fanfiction #obx fic #outer banks

264 notes · View notes

luvzshy · 21 days ago

Note

hi i’ve had this idea for a while but could you write something about billie and actress reader being very close friends for years, but then reader invites Billie to stay at her place for a week since it's been a while since they last saw each other, and after a few days reader confess her feelings to billie while watching a movie on her couch, but make it very hoooooot and very smutty pretty please

add a lot of tension before the confession part and how reader and billie are already veryyy touchy as friends!!

also i think current/brunette billie would be perfect for that!!

The Confession

Summary: After years of friendship, the lines between Billie Eilish and her actress best friend blur when they reunite for a week at the reader’s place. As the tension builds and the chemistry ignites, they find themselves navigating uncharted territory of desire, leading to a passionate confession that changes everything.

Word Count: Approximately 1,189 words

Warnings: Smut, sexual tension, explicit language, friends-to-lovers, light descriptions of intimacy

The years you spent with Billie were a whirlwind of laughter, support, and the kind of deep conversations that only the closest of friends could share. But somewhere along the way, the innocent touches and playful banter shifted into something undeniably charged, a tension simmering just beneath the surface.

When you invited Billie over to your place for a week, you had no idea how this would change everything. She arrived with that signature smile that made your heart race, her brown hair cascading over her shoulders, wearing an oversized hoodie that did nothing to hide her curves.

“Missed you,” you said, pulling her into a hug, letting the warmth of her body linger against yours a moment too long. You could smell her perfume—sweet, intoxicating, and it made your head spin.

“Missed you too,” she replied, her voice soft as she pulled back, those green eyes sparkling with mischief.

As the days rolled on, the two of you fell back into your comfortable routine. You spent evenings sprawled on the couch, watching movies, but your attention was always on each other. Each time her thigh brushed against yours or her fingers lightly grazed your skin, your heart would race, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

One night, as you settled in for a particularly cheesy romantic film, the couch was too small for the space you both filled with pent-up energy. You settled in close, her arm draping over your shoulders as you sank into her warmth.

“Are you even paying attention to the movie?” she teased, nudging you playfully.

“Of course I am,” you replied, though you could hardly focus. The proximity of her body, the way her thumb absentmindedly rubbed circles on your arm, was far too distracting. “It’s riveting.”

Billie chuckled, but her gaze was serious as it flicked to your lips. “I think you’re lying.” The playful smile lingered, but her eyes were intense, full of something unspoken.

“Maybe I am,” you confessed, heart racing as your breaths quickened, and the playful banter began to dissolve into something deeper.

“Why do I feel like there’s more going on in that pretty head of yours?” she whispered, leaning closer until her lips were mere inches from yours.

“Because there is,” you said, voice trembling slightly. “Billie, I can’t keep pretending that this is just friendship. I’ve liked you for a long time, and I think it’s more than just that.”

Billie’s breath hitched, and you could see her processing your words. The tension in the room was palpable, thickening the air around you both. “You’re serious?” she asked, almost in disbelief.

“Completely.”

You leaned in, the distance between you vanishing as your lips met in a soft kiss that quickly ignited into something more. Billie tasted sweet, like the candy you’d shared earlier, and you melted against her as the kiss deepened. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as her body pressed against yours.

As you kissed, you felt the world around you disappear, leaving just the two of you. Your hands roamed over her body, feeling the warmth of her curves beneath the fabric of her hoodie. You tugged at it, wanting to feel more of her skin beneath your fingers.

Billie pulled back for a breath, eyes dark with desire. “Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

“More than anything,” you breathed, leaning in to kiss her again.

With a swift movement, Billie shifted, pushing you gently back against the couch, her body hovering over you. The kiss grew more frantic, hungry, as she explored your mouth with a fervor that left you breathless. You could feel her warmth radiating against you, the undeniable heat of the moment consuming you both.

“Let me,” she murmured against your lips, her voice dripping with desire, before trailing kisses down your neck, sending electric shocks through your body. You gasped, arching into her touch as she kissed along your collarbone, her hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt.

“God, Billie…” you moaned, heart racing as her fingers brushed over your skin. Every touch was igniting fire within you, the need building to an almost unbearable level.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” she confessed, her voice low and rough. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this.”

Her hands explored your body, fingers tracing along the curves of your waist, pulling you closer as she pressed her body against you, her hips rolling against yours, causing heat to pool in your stomach.

“Billie,” you gasped, feeling overwhelmed with desire. You tugged at her hoodie, wanting to peel it off and reveal the skin beneath.

She hesitated, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. “Are you sure?” she asked, searching for any signs of doubt.

You nodded, your breath shaky but resolute. “I want you, Billie. Please.”

With a breathless smile, Billie leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that sent sparks flying through your body. She quickly shed her hoodie, exposing a simple black bralette that hugged her curves perfectly. Your hands instinctively roamed over her skin, fingers tracing the edges, marveling at how soft she felt beneath your touch.

You pulled her closer, your hands roaming down her back as your lips never left hers. Billie moaned softly into the kiss, and the sound ignited something primal within you. You rolled your hips against hers, and she gasped, a delicious sound that spurred you on.

“More,” she whispered, breaking the kiss to breathe in deeply, her eyes dark and filled with longing.

You nodded, letting instinct guide you as you pushed her back gently until she was lying flat on the couch, your body hovering over hers. The heat between you was intoxicating, the tension that had built up over the years now manifesting in a whirlwind of passion.

Your lips met again, deeper this time, the kiss filled with urgency and need. You moved your hands to explore her body, caressing her curves, savoring every inch of skin you could reach. As you kissed, you could feel her hands moving down your sides, fingers tugging at your shirt, urging you to let her explore as well.

With a swift motion, she pulled you down against her, her hands sliding under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin, causing you to shiver in delight. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you lost in each other.

“Let me show you how much I want you,” she murmured, her voice husky with desire, and you could only nod, lost in the moment.

Billie flipped you over, capturing your lips again as she straddled you, her body pressing down against yours. The heat radiating from her was intoxicating, and you could feel every curve against you, igniting a fire within that demanded to be fed.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked, her breath hot against your ear as she pressed her body closer.

“More than ever,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, desire burning through you like wildfire.

With a sultry smile, Billie began to move against you, her hips rolling in a rhythm that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. You gasped, feeling her warmth enveloping you, the intensity of your shared passion building to an almost unbearable level.

“Just like that,” you encouraged, hands gripping her waist, urging her on.

Billie’s movements grew more urgent, her breath coming in soft gasps as she lost herself in the moment. Every roll of her hips sent waves of pleasure radiating through you, and you could feel the tension building, the promise of something exquisite just within reach.

“God, you feel so good,” she breathed, her fingers gripping your shoulders, nails digging in slightly as she moved faster, the urgency between you escalating.

You pulled her down for another kiss, feeling the heat rise as your bodies melded together, perfectly in sync. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in this moment of pure ecstasy.

As the fire between you ignited, you knew that this night would change everything. This was no longer just friendship—it was something deeper, a connection that would redefine everything you had shared. You surrendered to the passion, the heat, and the undeniable truth of your feelings for Billie, knowing that there was no going back now.

#billie eilish blurb #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish imagine #wlw blog #billie eilish smut #wlw smut #wlw post #sapphic #lesbian

236 notes · View notes

imaginespazzi · 5 months ago

Text

This Little Love of Ours

Three times Paige and Azzi didn't go on a date and the one time they did

(In which an alternate universe writer finally returns to writing things in the real universe)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 5.4K (sighs in *this was meant to be 2K* words)

TW: Light swearing, alludes to sexual content

A/N: Hi lovelies, I'm backkkk!! Gonna keep this short and sweet but this is basically me combining a bunch of prompts/requests into one. There's some creative liberty taken with logistics and as per usual, the editing exists but so do my typos. As always, let me know what you liked and what you didn't, as well as anything you'd like to see going foreward. Happy Juneteenth and I hope y'all have a lovely rest of your week <3

we were just kids (when we fell in love)

The streets of Minsk, Belarus are bursting with light and colour, the summer breeze enveloping the two girls walking riverside as they giggle over everything and nothing. They’re breaking curfew plus a hundred other rules right now and if one of their coaches ever found out, they’d be as good as dead. But there’s something about being out in the open with Azzi, being able to delicately brush palms and not worry about her jolting away in fear of being seen, that has Paige ready to be reckless.

It’s been a year of learning Azzi, a year of discovering the little things that make her smile, a year of memorising the intricate stories that make her who she is. And Paige hides all these little details in a little treasure chest in the corner of her heart, bringing them out like little drops of lights when Azzi’s not by her side, and the darkness feels all-consuming. The thing is, Paige has never been attached to someone like this before, never felt like there was another half she needed to feel whole. She’d been an independent child, walls of steel barricading anyone from getting a glimpse into her vulnerability. For a long time, she’d been fine just living in the façade of being fine. But then she’d met Azzi. And all the walls had gone crashing down and it was okay not to be okay, because now while she held the weight of world, there was somebody there to hold her too.

“Paigeeee,” Azzi squeals with delight, eyes fixated on a van across the road, “there’s an ice cream truck.”

Paige doesn’t get time to react before she’s being pulled along, the wind tornadoing around her body. And yet she feels warm and fuzzy inside, like there’s a blanket with Azzi’s name knitted into it, wrapped around her heart.

“I’ll have the strawberry please,” Azzi smiles politely at the ice cream vendor, eyes sparkling with excitement, “P what are you getting?”

Paige grins, knowing her order is about to earn her a patented eye roll, “I’ll have the mint choc chip please.”

“You’re so weird,” the younger girl scrunches up her face and Paige suddenly has the urge to kiss her nose.

They both know that they’re living inbetween blurred lines, on a trapeze balanced between friends and something more. It had been a whispered conversation of have you ever kissed a girl? do you wanna kiss a girl? do you wanna kiss me? that had led to a kiss Paige swears can never be topped, but they hadn’t spoken about it again. With them living in separate states, it had been easy to ignore that, that had ever even happened, both of them skilled players at the game of pretend. But it’s different now they’re back in each other’s orbit and every touch seems to linger on Paige’s skin long after Azzi’s hands have left her own.

“You have no taste. It’s sooooo good,” Paige chides, making a show of licking her ice cream. When she looks at Azzi, she’s not expecting the way the shooting guard’s eyes have glazed over, fixated on Paige’s lips as she swallows nervously. An unfamiliar shiver tickles down Paige’s skin as they stand in silence, the air thick with a new tension.

“It’s green,” Azzi says finally, voice coming out breathless, “that’s enough for me to know it tastes bad.”

“Don’t knock it til you taste it,” the blond holds out her cone as an invitation.

When Azzi steps into Paige space, much closer than needed, she’s expecting Azzi to take the cone. She’s expecting that familiar jolt of electricity when their hands accidentally brush. Instead she feels herself being mesmerised by Azzi’s face getting closer and closer til she can feel the younger girl’s breath fanning her face. She gulps, as Azzi presses her lips to the corner of Paige’s mouth, tongue darting out for the briefest of seconds before she’s pulling away. And despite the cool of the ice cream, every part of Paige feels like it’s burning.

“I was wrong. Guess it tastes pretty good,” Azzi whispers, biting her lip.

“You-I-what-” Paige splutters, struggling to form a coherent thought.

Azzi giggles, clearly proud of herself “Paige Bueckers speechless? Who thought I’d ever see the day?”

“You’re a fucking menace.”

“And proud of it.”

There’s the clichéd spring in Paige’s step as they continue to walk by the river. She shifts her ice cream cone to her left hand, letting the other one entangle with Azzi’s fingers. It’s nothing, the most mundane of things to hold her best friend’s hand, but it feels exhilarating, like it’s the start of something special. Determined, she tugs on Azzi’s hand to pull them to a stop. The Minsk waterfront dazzles behind them but Paige swears nothing’s glowing brighter than two of them in this moment.

“Why are we stopping?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised quizzically.

Paige smirks, a new surge of confidence taking birth in her stomach, “I wanted to try your ice cream too. You got a taste of mine, it’s only fair I get a taste of yours.”

“Is that so?” Azzi hums, pressing herself against Paige, “too bad it seems like I’ve finished my cone then.”

“Yeah too fucking bad,” Paige agrees before crashing her lips against Azzi’s.

***

Paige is exhausted at breakfast the next morning, barely registering the conversations that are buzzing around her. Her eyes are drooping from the lack of sleep and there’s a dull pounding in her head but she has no regrets. Last night had been everything. She can still feel every moment pulsating through her veins, her heart beating to the rhythm of Azzi Azzi Azzi. The younger girl hasn’t appeared for breakfast yet and Paige is itching to see her. They’ve been separated for barely a couple of hours, reluctantly heading to their own rooms after they’d gotten back, and Paige swears she’d missed the girl even in her sleep.

“You got back late last night,” Cameron teases, sticking out a fork of fruit in Paige’s direction, “you two must have had a good time.”

“Yeah,” there’s a rare shyness in Paige’s tone, “yeah we had a great time.”

“Oooh are we talking about Paige and Azzi’s date last night?” Aliyah cuts in, a smirk playing on her lips.

“It wasn’t a date,” Paige counters, suddenly feeling oddly defensive “it- it was nothing.”

Cam raises an eyebrow, “it seemed like a date.”

“Well it wasn’t. It definitely was not a date.”

“You guys heard her,” Azzi's voice makes Paige freeze, something akin to guilt pooling in her stomach, “it definitely was not a date.”

Cam and Aaliyah raise their hands in surrender, turning back to whatever conversation they were engaged in before. Paige gulps as Azzi sits down in the empty spot next to her, body rigid.

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Paige it’s fine. I get it.”

“You- you do?” Paige doesn't entirely know how Azzi can get it, not when Paige doesn’t even really get it herself.

Azzi shrugs with fake nonchalance, “yeah, yeah I do and it’s okay. You’re right. It wasn’t a date.”

And it wasn’t. At least not by name. Paige knows that. Apparently Azzi knows it too. But everything about that feels wrong. Underneath the table, their hands intertwine subconsciously. Neither of them react. Neither of them pull away. It’s the start of something unspoken, something complicated, something beautiful and fragile and so, so volatile, something that’ll take them years to understand.

2. this all or nothing way of loving (got me sleeping without you)

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends

Azzi fights the twitch in her hand that wants to reach out and grab her phone when that notification flashes on her screen. She musters up another fake smile at her date, hoping the girl in front of her hasn’t noticed the change in her demeanour. It’s ridiculous the way her body reacts to the most simple things when it comes to Paige. She hates it, hates the way it seems like she has no control over herself when it comes to the blonde.

“Do you need to get that?” Anika asks, voice sweet as honey as she smiles at Azzi

“No, no it’s just an insta notification. Nothing important. You were saying,” Azzi brushes it off, trying to keep her voice nonchalant. Anika seems satisfied with that as she returns back to telling Azzi about something her sister had done. Fidgeting in her seat, Azzi tries her hardest to keep her focus on the brunette, but her mind is whirring with curiosity about what Paige might have posted.

The opportunity presents itself a couple of minutes laters, when Anika slides out of her seat to go to the bathroom. It’s a little embarrassing how quickly Azzi beelines for her phone, clicking on Paige’s story and immediately wishing she hadn’t. Anger and jealousy tighten their grip on her as she’s met with a picture of a caramel skinned, curly haired girl smiling at the camera, staring at Paige behind it, with that oh so familiar look of adoration. The text on the image reads in good company and Azzi feels bile rising up her throat. And she’s not allowed to feel this way, not when she and Paige had both agreed to turn their something into nothing but every day since that decision has felt a little bit like someone twisting a dagger into her heart, piercing further and further until she has no more blood left to bleed.

She doesn’t notice Anika’s made her way back until she feels a warm hand on her shoulder, looking up to find concerned green eyes staring down at her, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” Azzi nods with a sense of calm she doesn’t feel, “you okay with me showing you off a bit?”

It’s a dangerous game she’s about to play, one of jealous retaliation that she knows will only make her feel better for a brief second before all the pain will flood back. But she reaches for her phone anyways, fighting the voices of logic and reason (that sound oddly similar to Colleen) in her head and instead giving into impulse. Anika beams at the camera, throwing up a peace sign, and Azzi’s heart stutters with guilt at how sincere her smile is. She snaps the picture, captioning it with date night <3 and clicks post to close friends. Her heart beats erratically as she places her phone back on the table, trying to tune back into Anika’s conversation. It takes approximately three minutes for her phone to flash again.

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends

This time Azzi doesn’t bother fighting the urge to look, a new adrenaline pumping through her veins. It’s a mirror selfie this time. The girl has her back pressed against Paige’s front as they pose in front of the bathroom mirror. Paige has one hand holding her phone while the other is sprawled against the other girl’s waist, where a silver belly button piercing shimmers against tan skin. There’s no text this time, just a red heart and that Paige-shaped hole in Azzi’s heart is starting to get larger and larger.

“You wanna take a walk?” Azzi asks Anika, tearing her eyes away from the phone, “it’s nice outside.”

Anika smiles, rising from her seat and holding out a hand that Azzi gladly takes. It would be easier, Azzi thinks, if she could just fall in love with this girl. Someone less complicated, someone who had less power over her, someone who was here. But it’s a futile dream, her heart is spoken for and Azzi doesn’t think she’ll ever get it back.

It's a beautiful winter night outside and there’s a pretty girl holding her hand. That’s all Azzi should be thinking about. Instead, her mind is stuck on the image from before and it’s that vision, welded behind her eyelids, that has her taking a picture of her and Anika’s intertwined hands. As she types out the caption, one that feels way too deep for a first date, Azzi can’t help but roll her eyes at herself. She can’t remember the last time she’d posted a story, let alone two in a row and now here she is, posting inauthentic story after story to win a losing game.

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends

This time there’s at least 10 minutes before Azzi’s phone flashes with that notification again. Next to Azzi, Anika lets out a sigh, starting to become less amiable to the idea of her date constantly checking her phone. Azzi shoots her an apologetic look before her expression quickly turns stone cold at seeing the new picture. It’s a haphazardly taken, slightly pixelated, photo of Paige smiling and the girl kissing her cheek. And if Azzi was in any mood to analyse just a little further she’d notice that Paige’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, isn’t quite as wide as her real one. But there’s green fog clouding her judgement as she seethes internally, Anika’s soft touch doing nothing to calm her down. Tapping on Paige’s profile, Azzi fingers hover over the three dots on the upper left, as her petty side begins to take over.

And then she hits block.

***

“How was your date?” Paige’s mocking voice rings throughout Azzi’s childhood bedroom at almost 2 in the morning. She shouldn’t have answered the facetime call, should’ve held out for longer than just three missed calls and twelve angry texts. But Azzi has long realised that she’s putty when it comes to Paige.

“How’s your girlfriend,” Azzi bites back.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Right,” Azzi draws out the word with an eyeroll, “how’s your fuck buddy then?”

Paige closes her eyes, rubbing her temples. When she opens them, the angry hard-to-read Paige that she’s been dealing with for the last month is replaced by Azzi’s soft, sweet and vulnerable Paige. Being apart after having been together all through lockdown has been harder than either of them could have imagined. They’d just assumed it would be easy when Paige finally left for UConn, after all most of their relationship had been built while living in different states. But somewhere in between workouts at 6 am and movie nights with Azzi’s family, they’d gotten used to living in each other’s skin, forgetting just how difficult it was to be apart from each other.

“I miss you,” Paige whispers, “all the time. I can’t wait til you’re here.”

I miss you too, so much that sometimes it’s the only thing I feel, Azzi thinks and really it’s what she should say, instead the bitterness wins out, “why? So I can see you and that girl being all coupley in person instead of just on instagram?”

“That’s not fair, Azzi. You said you wanted to be just friends for now. You said I should try with other people and now you wanna throw that back in my face?”

“It was mutual-”

“Bullshit,” Paige sneers, “don’t try and put that shit on me. You made the decision and I just went along with it.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have then,” Azzi says exasperatedly, blinking her eyes rapidly to keep tears threatening to fall at bay. They fall into silence, staring at each other through the screen with identical expressions of only you can hurt me, only you can heal me. Azzi wishes she could reach through her phone, pull Paige into her world and melt into the older girl.

“What do you want from me Az?” Paige asks softly.

I just want you, Azzi thinks miserably. She wants to be beg Paige to end things with that other girl, wants Paige to tell her not go on anymore dates, want to go back to being something, but she can’t, not when she’s convinced herself that they need do this, go through a phase of being nothing, so that they can be everything someday. This whole idea had taken birth in her head out of the fear that this- the two of them not knowing anything but each other- would eventually lead to resentment, that they- that Paige- would wake up one day and realise there was so much more the world had to offer. So now Azzi’s playing the long game, trying to believe in the clichéd year old adage that you have to let the people you love go, and if they come back, they’re yours. And she hopes against hope that Paige will come back, because Azzi doesn't think she’ll survive anything else.

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, instead of voice the other thoughts dancing on the tip of her tongue, “I’m sorry I’m being unfair.”

Paige’s eyes soften, “can we just- can we just talk about something else?”

And they do. They talk all night about everything and nothing, falling asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing. It’s that same nightly routine neither of them can fall asleep without. Because even if they’re both drowning in a sea of unspoken words, at least they’re sinking together, perhaps there’s some comfort in that.

3. you make me smile (please stay for a while now)

Azzi stares at her reflection in the mirror for what feels like the thousandth time. She’s a bundle of nervous energy as she pats down her neatly ironed mini-skirt, adjusting her already perfectly-set crop top. It’s a little bit like how she feels before stepping on the court, dizzy with both nerves and excitement in anticipation. By all technicalities, this isn’t their first date. There’s probably friends and family who would argue this is closer to be their millionth or so date but nothing has ever been official. It just means more.

She jumps a little when the doorbell rings at exactly 7 p.m. sharp, taking in a deep breath, before she opens the door. Paige stands outside in black pants with a black crop top and a multicolor cardigan, and a bouquet of pink roses in her hands. It takes Azzi about two seconds to realise that something’s wrong. Paige’s eyes are a feverish red and her smile is tired; it’s her all too familiar Paige is sick demeanour that Azzi’s quick to recognize after years of having seen it. The blonde opens her mouth to say something and instead all that comes out is a series of loud sneezes.

“Oh baby,” Azzi gives her a sympathetic smile, reaching out to feel Paige’s forehead and then narrowing her head when she feels the heat, “P-”

“I’m fine,” Paige cuts her off, her voice gravelly, “just allergies.”

Azzi crosses her arms, knowing she’s about to deal with a petulant child, “I don’t think so. You’re clearly sick.”

“I don’t-,” Paige tries to disguise the cough in between her sentences, “-get sick.”

“Sure you don’t,” Azzi nods, as she tugs Paige inside, grabbing the flowers and setting them aside. Paige lets out grunts of protest, but her body is clearly too tired to fight back as Azzi guides them into her room. She goes into her closet first, finding an oversized shirt for Paige to change into.

“You know the getting undressed part comes after the date right?” Paige raises an eyebrow, practically glaring at the t-shirt

“We’re not going on a date.”

“WHAT? Dude I’m fine. I have a reservation and everything,” Paige whines in between coughs as she watches Azzi rummage through her drawers for medication, “it’s our first date. I had plans.”

“I’m not going on a date with you looking all snotty and congested like that.”

Azzi suppresses a laugh at Paige’s offended sequel, “what happened to sickness and health?”

“Pretty sure that’s a marriage thing,” she hands Paige the pills and a glass of water, that the older girl obediently takes.

“Well we’re eventually gonna get married so you need to get used to that,” it’s said so casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but it steals Azzi’s breath away, the words carving themselves into the walls of her heart. Sometimes she wonders if Paige understands the gravity of the things she says, understands how they make every part of Azzi come alive with hope for their future. She shies away from a smirking Paige, trying to hide the blush that’s creeping up her neck.

“Just- just get changed,” she manages to stutter out.

“I,” sneeze, “don’t,” cough, “want” sneeze, “to.”

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

“You have to get better P or coach will kill us both if you end up missing practice.”

“Going on a date with you would make me feel better.”

“Okay,” Azzi sighs, realising she needs to change tactics, “we’ll make a compromise. You’re gonna change-” she raises a hand when Paige tries to interrupt, “you’re gonna change and lie down, and if you don’t fall asleep in the next 10 minutes, we’ll go on the date.”

Paige’s eyebrows furrow in concentration as she mulls it over, before a scheming glint appears in her eyes, “okay but on one condition,” her grabby hands reach for Azzi’s waist, a soft smile playing on her chapped lips, “you have to lie down with me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes fondly, letting the blonde pull her into her arms, her own hands encircling Paige’s back as the older girl snuggles into her neck with a content sigh. This is her happy place. In any room, anywhere, as long as she’s cocooned in Paige’s embrace, there’s a sense of serenity that seems to flood into Azzi’s veins.

“I could fall asleep here,” Paige murmurs, hot breath fanning against Azzi’s collarbone, “you’re so comfortable.”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to physically manoeuvre Paige onto the bed which only elicits a smirk against her skin.

“If you wanted me in your bed Az, you could have just asked,” the older girl wiggles her eyebrows, earning her a small push from Azzi as Paige drags them both down into a mess of limbs and pillows. Cerulean blue eyes stare up at Azzi, a little bloodshot from the impending fever, but still blisteringly brilliant with love. It scares Azzi sometimes, to see all that emotion swimming in Paige’s eyes, all for her and it scares her even more to know that same pool of you’re it for me is reflected in her own too. Sometimes she worries they’re too young for this, too young to feel so much but then Paige smiles, and all of Azzi’s doubt flies away as she lets herself believe in forever.

***

Paige doesn’t even really make it past five minutes, her sick body giving into the tiredness as she cuddles into Azzi, arms splayed over the younger girl's torso, as she keeps her head buried in her shoulder. There’s a content smile on her face as Azzi continues to run her hands through silky blond hair, brushing out tiny knots and waiting a couple of minutes, before she detaches herself from her girlfriend and heads to the kitchen. She’s not the greatest of chefs, but she’d like to think she’s skilled enough to try and make something that at least resembles chicken noodle soup.

Azzi’s almost done when she feels a blanket being wrapped around her, two arms coming to wrap around her waist as she feels the weight of Paige’s chest pressed against her back, the older girl's head coming to rest in the crook of Azzi’s neck.

“You’re already awake,” Azzi whispers, leaning her head back so she can brush her lips against Paige’s temple.

Paige grunts, her voice nasally when she speaks, “you left and I was cold.”

“I have like three blankets on my bed you could’ve used.”

“Don’t wanna use blankets. Wanna use you,” Paige whispers, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s neck, making the younger girl shiver, “you’re much warmer.”

“Go pick out a movie to watch, I’m almost done with this.”

She can’t see it but Azzi can practically feel Paige’s raised eyebrows, as she dramatically sniffs the air, “you cooked? Babe I’m already sick, are you trying to get me sicker?”

“Wow. I slave over the kitchen for you for hours-”

“Maybe half-”

“HOURS! And you have the audacity to question my cooking when all you can make is buffalo chicken dip?”

“Hey, you love my buffalo chicken dip.”

“You keep telling yourself that baby.”

“It’s not nice to be mean to your sick girlfriend,” Paige snickers as she makes her way to the couch in Azzi’s room.

“So you admit you’re sick then?”

“Only sick to my stomach at whatever you’re gonna feed me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, pouring the soup into a bowl. She secretly loves when they get like this. It’s a reminder that no matter what other label they eventually put on their relationship, Paige will always be her best friend first. As soon as Azzi sits down on the couch, Paige is all over her, knowing exactly how to shrink her body so that all 6’0 of her fits perfectly on her girlfriend’s lap. This is Azzi’s favourite version of Paige really, the soft vulnerable babygirl that’s only for Azzi’s eyes, a far cry from the ultimate rizzler the rest of the world sees.

“Feed me,” Paige pouts and Azzi shakes her head fondly but does as she’s asked, holding a spoonful of chicken noodle soup in front of Paige’s mouth.

“Thought you were scared of my cooking?”

“Oh I am but the things we do for love,” the blonde says dramatically before letting Azzi feed her, “huh, that’s not half bad baby.”

“High compliments,” Azzi says mock-seriously, as she tries her own spoonful, “oh I kinda ate that.”

They both dissolve into giggles at that, falling into a comfortable conversation as Azzi takes turns feeding both herself and Paige, the dull rumbling of some random movie behind them.

“You’re always taking care of me,” Paige says softly after a while, hand caressing Azzi’s left arm as she lies against her chest, feeling her heartbeat underneath her fingertips.

“Someone has to,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s hair, “you take care of everyone else and I take care of you.”

“Sorry I ruined our date but trust, I’mma make it up to you,” Paige mumbles sleepily, digging herself further into Azzi’s arms if that’s even possible.

“I’m sure you will baby.”

“I love you.”

“Love you more P.”

And if in two days, Azzi’s the one that’s sick and Paige’s attempt at making chicken noodle soup goes even worse, well, let’s just say it’s a good thing they have NIL deals and can afford a chef in the future.

4. me i fall in love with you every single day (and i just wanna tell you i am)

“Where are you taking me?” Azzi giggles, hands outstretched as she tries to navigate the path in front of her, despite being blindfolded. The salty sea air brushes through her hair, as she places one foot in front of another, letting Paige’s hands on her waist guide her across the cruise ship.

“Be patient, we’re almost there,” Paige whispers against her ear, nervous anticipation building in her stomach. She’s been planning this night from the moment they’d booked the cruise tickets, wanting everything to be as near to perfect as possible. The thing is, they’ve been on plenty of dates, some even before they’d officially started calling them dates. But most of those dates have had to be carefully constructed away from prying eyes, their hands itching to hold the others but forced to dangle by their sides so they could keep up a façade in public, that this was just friends hanging out. The cruise is the perfect spot for a private date, one where Paige wouldn’t have to keep her hands to herself, not that she’s done a good job of that the whole trip anyway. But she’s found the perfect secret spot and spent just a little bit of money, to make sure the other cruise goers wouldn’t bother them tonight.

“Are we there yet?” Azzi whines and Paige can’t help but laugh, finally pulling them to a stop.

“So impatient,” she tuts as she finally pulls away Azzi’s satin pink blindfold.

“Yes well I’m star-oh…” Azzi blinks, eyes adjusting to the light as they flitter over her surroundings, the words being stolen from her lips as an awed look takes over her features, “Paige.”

“You like?” Paige bites her lips nervously.

“Do I like? Baby, this is beautiful,” tears sparkle in Azzi’s eyes as she loops her arms around Paige’s neck, “it’s perfect.”

They’re standing on the bow of the cruise ship. In the distance, the island they’re docked at, is illuminated by lights, making it shimmer against the dark night sky. A table for two sits at the helm of the ship, adorned in a purple velvet table cloth. There are candles and pink and white rose petals scattered all across the floor, with a small path carved out in between so they can walk to the table. On the table, there’s a customised crystal centrepiece with their names carved into it and inside it is a bouquet made of pictures of them. It’s a little cliché really, especially for two people whose path to each other had been anything but traditional but all Paige has ever wished for is a moment of normalcy with Azzi, a moment where they’re not star players, just two girls in love, enjoying a typical date night, a moment where they’re just PaigeAndAzzi.

“When did you even have time to plan all of this?” Azzi marvels out loud, as Paige pulls out a chair for her.

“I have my ways,” the blonde says with a smirk, taking a seat opposite her girlfriend and reaching to entwine their hands together.

“You didn’t have to do this P.”

Paige shrugs, “I wanted to. We deserve this.”

Azzi nods, squeezing Paige’s hand because god knows they do deserve this. It’s been a hellish year if they’re honest. The highs had been wonderful but the lows, god the lows had felt like the ground being pulled from beneath their feet as they gripped each other, holding onto the only thing in their lives that felt like a reprieve from the darkness that swirled around them. And really that’s it Paige thinks, life can throw whatever it wants at her, but as long as she has Azzi, she’ll learn to survive it.

“You wanna dance?” Paige asks, when they’ve finally finished eating, somehow managing to find a way to hold hands throughout the whole three course meal. As if on cue, a violin quartet appears onto the deck, and Azzi laughs at the coincidence. It’s Paige’s favourite sound in the whole wide world.

“You’re such a sap,” Azzi teases fondly as she lets Paige lead them onto the floor, “how many romcoms did you watch to come up with this whole thing?”

“Dude, are you doubting my abilities to come up with a perfect date?”

“I would never,” Azzi swears, leaning her cheek against Paige’s, “but seriously Bueckers, you’ve outdone yourself.”

The melody of “thinking out loud” on the violin with the light thrum of the sounds of the wind and the ocean, creates the perfect orchestra for them to sway to, as they press every inch of themselves into each other, trying to lose themselves in the other’s arm. That feeling of home, a resounding peace, echoes throughout Paige’s skull and she thinks if there was ever a memory she’d want to replay over and over again, it would be this one.

“I’m gonna miss this,” Paige whispers, “being with you like this?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“No I know- I just- I like being able to be us in public like we have this last week. I like not pretending.”

“What if-,” Azzi pulls back a little, eyes locking with Paige’s, “what if we didn’t pretend?”

Paige searches for a shred of hesitance in Azzi’s face, but finds nothing but complete resoluteness and a grin breaks out on her own face, “what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that even if we don’t say anything, maybe we don’t have to try and hide everything all the time either. I’m saying,” Azzi bites her lips, shyly smiling, “if you wanna hold my hand when we’re in public sometimes, you- you can if- if you want to.”

“I really, really, really want to,” Paige breathes against the brunette’s lips, hands rubbing circles against her waist.

“Good,” Azzi whispers back, “because I really, really, really want you to.”

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

406 notes · View notes

ink-perfect · 2 months ago

Text

thinking about...

luffy and the way he is unapologetically full of love. living in an era that craves being detached and playing hard to get, he's a breath of fresh air - so uncomplicated, pure, and just. real.

he has that kind of charisma that can be charmed to lead a fleet, hypnotise a tyrant, or win over an island in a second flat. but the thing is, he doesn't care about any of that. he's not wanting to be cool or a player or anything of that sort; he's just monkey d. luffy, future king of the pirates.

this is a man who would hug you in the middle of a thousand people with absolutely no thought or care, grinning that big goofy grin of his, eyes sparkling with that childlike glee he can always seem to have, because he saw you across the deck. he doesn't do subtlety, he doesn't play games. he's an open book, loud and honest; when he loves, he loves with his whole chest - a hurricane of laughter, a whirlwind of warmth. in a world that has blurred the lines between love and lazy, luffy wears his heart on his sleeve, and it is so damn endearing.

and if there's one thing he sees other than meat, it's you. he sees you everywhere, even in himself: in the sparkle of his eyes at the tone of your voice, or how he will stop mid-bite (a big deal for luffy) just to listen to you talk.

he will let you cry on his shoulder, even when he doesn't know what to say, because sometimes, he understands it's enough to just be there.

he's one of those guys who's always chasing adventure, always running toward the horizon, yet without you even realising it, he had been bringing you along this endless journey, his hand clasping yours. you are sewn into the tapestry of his dreams, tucked between the discovery of the one piece and the thrill of the next battle. not to woo or prove anything to you, but more so because you have become as integral to him as the sea breeze at his back or the open expanse of ocean before him - freedom he holds so dear.

for luffy, love isn't about dramatic gestures or sweet words, though he does make a point of doing those for you as well.

it's more in the way he reaches out and snatches your hand up, yanking you off after him toward some mad new adventure without any afterthoughts. in the way he laughs with you into the dead of night or always manages to keep a place open beside him at banquet even when the food's all but gone (because of him, of course).

it's in the silent promise of his loyalty, as unwavering and steadfast as tides pushing his ship toward unknown shores.

and the crew? they, too, see this, no matter how observant they are. zoro, blind to everything but his training, and nami, with eyes that just always know, both notice the beauty of your connection to the same degree despite their disparity in intuition. they see how instinctively you two move toward each other, faces lighting up before a single word is even exchanged. even sanji has stopped teasing, not because he's run out of one-liners, but because he's actually, surprisingly, impressed at the sheer power of your love. usopp sometimes seriously wants to take notes for kaya after seeing just how enamoured the two of you are by each other.

and that is what it's all about: it is all so real with luffy: no games, no masks, no holding back. all or nothing, and with you, it's all. even during the filler episodes of your life, he is still there, soaking your presence like the sun seeping through sails.

to be loved by luffy means to be taken along in his world, the joy he feels is your own, the laughter yours mingled with his, carried off on sea breeze. it means knowing that no matter where the grand line may take you, or what dangers may come your way, there's always that simple, sincere smile waiting to greet you on the other side of the storm. and somehow, it will always be enough.

── ౨ৎ masterlist

#luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #straw hat pirates #straw hat luffy #unedited #writing #thinking about #love #reader x character #reader fic #one piece #one piece fluff #one piece live action #one piece imagine

319 notes · View notes

cool-fancier · 2 months ago

Text

Running into You

Synopsis: You're just an ordinary person, but your life is about to take an extraordinary turn. Your friend Somi, a die-hard Blackpink fan, drags you to their concert. You stumble upon a quiet backstage area and bump into none other than Rosé, the main vocalist.

Word Count:6.9K (long one)

The afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of your living room, casting a soft, golden glow over the space. You were curled up on the couch with a book, trying to lose yourself in its pages, but your attention kept drifting. The words blurred together, the story losing its grip on you as your thoughts wandered.

Lately, everything seemed to have fallen into a predictable pattern, one that you couldn't quite break free from. Work, home, the occasional hangout with Somi, and then back to the routine. It wasn't that you were unhappy—just... stuck. There was a restlessness growing inside you, a need for something different, something that would shake up the monotony of your life.

"Why do you look like you're about to fall asleep?" Somi's voice cut through your reverie, pulling you back to the present. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, her laptop open with several tabs displaying concert dates, fan forums, and YouTube videos.

You glanced up, startled by her sudden question. "I'm not about to fall asleep," you replied, closing the book with a sigh. "I'm just... not into this book, I guess."

Somi's eyes sparkled with that mischievous look she often had when she was up to something. "Maybe you need to do something more exciting tonight," she suggested, her voice light but full of energy.

You raised an eyebrow, curious but cautious. "Like what?"

"Like coming to a concert with me," she said, her grin widening as she leaned forward, clearly excited about whatever she had planned. "There's this band I've been dying to see live, and I've got an extra ticket. You should totally come with me!"

You frowned slightly, hesitating. "A concert? I don't know, Somi. You know I'm not really into crowds, and I don't even know who this band is."

Somi rolled her eyes, clearly having anticipated your reluctance. "Come on, it's Blackpink! Even if you're not familiar with them, I promise you'll have a good time. Their shows are legendary, and the energy is just insane. Plus, it's been forever since we did something fun together outside of this apartment."

"Blackpink?" you repeated, the name vaguely familiar, though you couldn't place it. You might have seen it online somewhere, but you couldn't recall ever listening to their music. "I don't know..."

Somi wasn't one to give up easily. She moved closer, her tone becoming more persuasive. "Please? It'll be a blast! And who knows, maybe you'll even meet someone interesting." She winked, the playful grin on her face impossible to resist.

You chuckled, leaning back against the couch as you played along. "Oh yeah? You think I'm going to find the love of my life at a concert?"

"Hey, it could happen!" Somi teased, nudging you with her foot. "I mean, you're single, ready to mingle, and you've been in a bit of a rut lately. What better place to shake things up?"

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your amusement. "Right, because that's exactly how these things work."

Somi's grin only grew wider. "You never know! Besides, I've got a good feeling about this one. Who knows, maybe you'll even catch one of the members' eyes. There's this one, Rosé—I think you'd really like her."

"Rosé?" you repeated, trying to remember if you'd ever heard that name before. "Is she famous or something?"

Somi nodded eagerly. "Yup! She's the main vocalist, and she's absolutely gorgeous. I've always thought you two would be a perfect match."

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Now you're really dreaming. What would someone like her see in someone like me?"

"Don't sell yourself short," Somi said, her tone becoming more sincere. "You're smart, kind, and beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to be with you."

You smiled softly at her words, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. Somi always knew how to lift your spirits. "Thanks, Somi. But still, it's not exactly realistic, is it?"

"Maybe not," Somi admitted with a shrug. "But hey, at least come for the music and the experience. If nothing else, you'll get to see what all the hype is about."

You considered her words carefully. The prospect of something new, something different, was tempting. Maybe a night out was exactly what you needed to break the monotony.

"Alright," you finally said, giving in with a smile. "I'll go with you."

Somi's face lit up with excitement. "Yes! You won't regret it, I promise."

— — — —

The days leading up to the concert seemed to fly by, with Somi's enthusiasm never wavering. She tried to introduce you to Blackpink's music, playing their songs while you both worked around the apartment or during your commute together, but the details mostly flew over your head. The melodies were catchy, but with your busy schedule, you never really took the time to learn the names or faces behind the voices.

Each evening, after work or on lazy weekends, Somi would excitedly share a new song or music video, pointing out her favorite moments, but you only half-listened. It wasn't that you weren't interested; it was more that the music felt like background noise to everything else happening in your life. There was always something else to focus on—work deadlines, family obligations, and the usual demands of daily life.

But as the concert date approached, you couldn't help but notice a growing sense of anticipation within yourself. Maybe it was Somi's infectious excitement, or perhaps it was just the idea of doing something out of the ordinary, but you found yourself looking forward to the night more than you had initially expected.

The night of the concert arrived faster than you expected. As you and Somi got ready in your apartment, the excitement in the air was palpable. Somi was practically bouncing off the walls as she applied the finishing touches to her makeup.

"You look amazing," you said as you watched her in the mirror, genuinely impressed by her ability to transform her look for the occasion. Somi had gone all out, wearing a stylish outfit that perfectly captured the concert vibe—bold, chic, and a little edgy.

"Thanks! So do you," she replied, turning to give you a once-over. "See? I knew you'd get into the spirit of things."

You glanced at your reflection, feeling a bit more confident in your outfit. Somi had helped you pick out something that made you feel good—something that was still very much you but with a bit of flair. For the first time in a while, you actually felt excited about going out.

As you slipped into your jacket, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. There was something different about you tonight—a spark that you hadn't seen in a long time. It wasn't just the outfit or the makeup; it was the idea of stepping out of your comfort zone, of embracing something new.

"Okay, let's go before I change my mind," you joked, grabbing your jacket as you headed for the door.

Somi laughed, linking her arm with yours as you left the apartment. "No backing out now! We've got a concert to catch, and who knows? Maybe you'll even run into Rosé.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Yeah, because that's totally going to happen."

The journey to the concert venue was filled with a mix of excitement and nerves. Somi kept the conversation light, chatting about her favorite songs and how incredible the band was live. You listened with a smile, feeling more at ease with each passing minute, even if you couldn't quite keep track of all the band details she was throwing at you.

As you got closer to the venue, you could feel the energy around you intensifying. The streets were crowded with fans dressed in various shades of pink, holding signs and light sticks, all buzzing with anticipation. The atmosphere was infectious, and despite your earlier reservations, you could feel your own excitement starting to build.

"This is crazy," you muttered as you and Somi made your way through the throngs of people.

"Isn't it great?" Somi replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "This is what it's all about—the atmosphere, the anticipation, the music. It's going to be amazing."

The crowd outside the venue was massive, with fans buzzing with anticipation as they waited to get inside. The energy was contagious, and for the first time, you felt a genuine thrill of excitement.

As you approached the entrance, you could feel your nerves creeping in again. The noise, the crowd, the unfamiliarity of it all—it was a lot to take in. Somi must have sensed your apprehension because she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Hey, if it gets too much, just let me know, okay?" she said, her tone gentle. "We can take breaks, step outside if you need to. I want you to have a good time, not feel overwhelmed."

You nodded, grateful for her understanding. "Thanks, Somi. I appreciate it."

Once inside the venue, the atmosphere was electric. The stage was set up with massive screens and lights, and the anticipation in the air was almost tangible. You and Somi found a spot with a decent view, and as you settled in, you started to feel a bit more comfortable. But as the minutes ticked by, the noise and the crush of the crowd began to get to you.

The venue was buzzing with life, the energy palpable as fans eagerly awaited the start of the show. You glanced around, taking in the sight of people decked out in merchandise—T-shirts, hats, light sticks—all proudly displaying their love for Blackpink. It was a world you didn't fully understand yet, but there was something exhilarating about being a part of it.

Somi was in her element, chatting excitedly with a group of fans nearby who were just as hyped as she was. You tried to focus on the conversation, but the noise and the sheer volume of people were starting to feel overwhelming. The venue, which had felt so thrilling moments before, was now beginning to press in on you, the weight of the crowd a little too much.

You took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. "I'm going to step outside for a bit, just to clear my head before the show starts," you told Somi, hoping she wouldn't mind.

She looked at you with concern but quickly nodded, understanding. "Sure thing," she said, giving you a thumbs up. "Just don't take too long! You don't want to miss a second of this."

You smiled, appreciating her concern, and started to make your way through the crowd. It took longer than you anticipated, weaving through the throngs of people all eagerly chatting and finding their spots. But eventually, you reached the exit and stepped outside, into the cool night air.

The contrast was immediate and stark. The noise of the venue was replaced by the quiet hum of the city at night, the air cool against your skin. You took a deep breath, savoring the stillness, the way the world seemed to slow down out here. It was a much-needed reprieve from the overwhelming energy inside.

You walked for a bit, letting the tension in your shoulders ease as you moved further away from the noise and the crowd. The streets around the venue were quieter, less chaotic than you expected. You turned a corner and found yourself in a small, dimly lit alleyway. It wasn't particularly scenic, but it was peaceful, and right now, that was exactly what you needed.

Leaning against the wall, you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the quiet wash over you. The city sounds were distant, muted—cars in the distance, the faint murmur of voices, the occasional breeze rustling the leaves of a nearby tree. It was a soothing backdrop, one that allowed your mind to slow down and process everything.

You hadn't realized how much you needed this, this moment of solitude. The excitement of the evening, while exhilarating, had also been draining. But here, in the stillness of the night, you could finally breathe, let go of the nerves that had been building up.

Your thoughts began to wander, unbidden, back to Somi's words earlier. About Rosé. You couldn't help but smile to yourself. It was a sweet thought—Somi's belief that you and a global superstar could somehow be a perfect match. It was unrealistic, sure, but it was nice to have someone believe in you like that, even if it was just in jest.

The idea of meeting someone like Rosé felt like a distant dream, something far removed from the life you knew. But in the quiet of the alley, with nothing but your thoughts for company, it didn't seem so far-fetched. You let yourself imagine it for a moment—what it would be like to meet someone who could see you, really see you, beyond the surface. Someone who could connect with you in a way that felt real and meaningful.

You shook your head, laughing softly to yourself. "Get a grip," you muttered under your breath, pushing off the wall. This was silly, getting lost in such thoughts. It was just a concert, just a night out. Nothing more, nothing less.

But as you began to make your way back toward the venue, something caught your eye. The door to a side entrance was slightly ajar, light spilling out into the alleyway. Curious, you hesitated, wondering if you should take a peek inside. It was probably just a maintenance entrance or something equally mundane, but the idea of stepping into a quieter part of the venue was appealing.

With a quick glance around, you gently pushed the door open and slipped inside. The hallway was dimly lit, the sound of the concert preparations muffled in the distance. It was a stark contrast to the chaos outside, a pocket of calm in the midst of the storm.

You wandered down the hallway, the cool air inside a welcome change from the warmth of the crowd. There was something almost surreal about the quiet here, like you'd stepped into a different world entirely. It was a world where the noise and chaos of the concert didn't exist, where you could just be, without any expectations or pressures.

As you rounded a corner, lost in thought, you collided with someone. The impact was gentle but unexpected, and you both stumbled slightly, caught off guard.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, your hands coming up instinctively to steady the other person. "I wasn't paying attention, and—"

"It's okay," a soft voice interrupted, gentle and reassuring. "Really, no harm done."

You looked up, and your breath caught in your throat. The woman standing in front of you was stunning. She had long, blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders, and her eyes sparkled with a warmth that immediately put you at ease. There was something ethereal about her, something that made the world around her seem to blur at the edges.

"Are you sure?" you asked, still flustered as you took a step back to give her some space. "I wasn't paying attention, and I—"

"I'm sure," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I've been in your shoes before—lost in thought and bumping into random people. It happens."

You let out a small, relieved laugh. "Well, I'm still sorry. I don't usually run into people like that."

"It's no big deal," she replied, her tone soft and kind. "Like I said, it happens. You're not hurt, right?"

You shook your head, still a little stunned. "No, I'm fine. Just... a little embarrassed."

"Don't be," she said, her smile widening a fraction. "It's actually kind of nice, having a normal interaction for once."

You blinked, caught off guard by her words. "Nice?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice taking on a thoughtful tone. "It's not often I get to just... be, you know? Without all the noise and expectations."

You nodded slowly, trying to process what she was saying. There was something about her, something in the way she spoke, that made you feel like you were in on a secret, like she was sharing something with you that she didn't often share with others.

"So, are you here for the concert?" you asked, hoping to steer the conversation into safer territory.

She nodded, her smile returning. "Yeah, I'm here for the concert."

"Me too," you said, relaxing a little now that the conversation had found its footing. "Well, sort of. My friend dragged me along. She's a huge fan of this band, but I don't really know much about them."

She chuckled softly, the sound warm and comforting. "That's actually kind of nice. You get to experience it all for the first time, without any preconceived notions.”

"Yeah, I guess so," you agreed, though you still felt a little out of place. "It's just a little intimidating, you know? Everyone else seems to know so much about them, and I'm just here trying to figure it all out."

"That's the beauty of it," she said, her tone light but sincere. "You get to see everything with fresh eyes. It's a rare thing, and it makes the experience all the more special."

You found yourself smiling at her words, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. There was something about her that made you want to keep talking, to keep this conversation going, but you weren't sure what to say next. The silence between you was comfortable, though, filled with a sense of understanding that didn't require words.

"So, what do you think so far?" she asked after a moment, her eyes curious.

"About what?" you replied, a little caught off guard.

"About the whole experience," she clarified, her smile softening. "The concert, the music... everything."

You took a moment to think about it, trying to put your feelings into words. "It's... overwhelming," you admitted. "But in a good way, I think. I didn't expect to feel so much... energy."

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. "It can be a lot to take in, especially if you're not used to it. But that's what makes it so powerful, I think. It's this shared experience, this connection between everyone in the room, all feeling the same thing."

You looked at her, really looked at her, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. There was something in her eyes, something deep and genuine, that made your heart skip a beat. You wanted to ask her more, to keep this connection going, but the words didn't come.

Finally, she broke the silence, her voice gentle. "I should probably get back. The show's going to start soon."

You nodded, though you felt a strange reluctance to let this moment end. "Yeah, I should too."

She smiled at you, a smile that seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words, and for a moment, you thought about asking her to stay, to talk a little longer. But before you could find the courage, she turned to leave.

"Maybe I'll see you around?" you found yourself saying, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

She paused, turning back to look at you, her eyes soft. "Maybe," she said, her voice holding a promise that made your heart flutter.

And then she was gone, disappearing down the hallway and leaving you standing there, wondering what had just happened. You felt like you'd just experienced something rare, something precious, but you weren't sure what to do with it.

You stood there for a moment longer, trying to collect your thoughts before heading back to the concert. As you made your way through the crowd to find Somi, your mind kept replaying the encounter, the way her eyes had seemed to see right through you, the way her smile had made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

When you finally found Somi, she was practically vibrating with excitement, her eyes wide as she talked to a group of fans. "There you are! You almost missed it!"

You forced a smile, trying to push the encounter out of your mind, at least for now. "Sorry, I got a little lost."

Somi waved it off, too excited to care. "No worries! Come on, the show's about to start!"

You followed her into the crowd, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the woman in the hallway. There was something about her that you couldn't shake, something that made you feel like you'd just missed out on something important.

As the lights dimmed and the crowd erupted into cheers, you tried to focus on the stage, on the music, on the experience that Somi had been so eager to share with you. But your mind kept drifting back to the woman in the hallway, to the way she had looked at you, like she had seen something in you that even you hadn't noticed.

And then the music started, and the stage lights came up, and you found yourself staring at the group on stage. The woman from the hallway was standing in the center, microphone in hand, her voice soaring over the crowd. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized who she was.

She was Rosé.

And she had been singing just for you.

— — — — —

You stood frozen, your eyes glued to the stage as Rosé sang. The realization of who she was—and who you had just been speaking to—sent a shockwave through you. Her voice was even more powerful in person, filling the entire venue with a warmth and intensity that made your heart race.

Next to you, Somi was cheering loudly, completely caught up in the performance. But you were still processing everything, your mind racing as you watched Rosé move effortlessly across the stage. She was captivating, her presence commanding every bit of attention from the audience, yet all you could think about was the conversation you'd had just minutes ago.

You hadn't recognized her. How could you have not recognized her?

The thought was both embarrassing and oddly exhilarating. You'd spoken to Rosé, not as a fan, not as someone who knew everything about her, but as yourself. And she had spoken to you, not as a celebrity, but as a person. The memory of her eyes meeting yours, the warmth in her voice—it all felt so surreal now.

As the performance continued, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from her. Every note she sang, every movement she made, seemed to resonate with you on a deeper level. It was like she was speaking directly to you through the music, and for a moment, the crowded venue and the thousands of fans faded away, leaving just the two of you.

But then the song ended, and the crowd erupted into applause, snapping you out of your reverie. You glanced at Somi, who was practically glowing with excitement, completely oblivious to the inner turmoil you were experiencing.

"This is amazing!" Somi shouted over the noise, grabbing your arm. "Aren't they incredible?"

"Yeah," you replied, your voice a little shaky. "They really are."

Somi didn't seem to notice your unease, too caught up in the next song as it started. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. Rosé was right there, on that stage, singing her heart out—and yet, all you could think about was the brief, fleeting connection you'd shared with her backstage.

As the concert went on, you tried to focus on the music, on the energy of the crowd, but your thoughts kept drifting back to her. You kept replaying your conversation in your head, analyzing every word, every look, trying to make sense of what had happened.

Had she recognized you? Did she know that you didn't realize who she was? Was that why she had seemed so intrigued by you?

The questions swirled in your mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. Even as the concert reached its peak, with the crowd singing along and the lights flashing in time with the music, you felt a strange sense of detachment, like you were watching everything from a distance.

It wasn't until the final song that you finally managed to pull yourself back into the moment. The music slowed, and the stage lights dimmed, casting the group in a soft, golden glow. Rosé stepped forward, her voice filling the venue with a hauntingly beautiful melody that sent chills down your spine.

You watched her, completely mesmerized. There was something raw and vulnerable in the way she sang, something that seemed to echo the conversation you'd had earlier. It was like she was laying herself bare for the world to see, and yet, somehow, it felt like she was singing just for you.

As the song came to an end, Rosé's eyes swept over the crowd, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, they met yours. You held your breath, wondering if she recognized you, if she remembered the conversation you'd had. But then her gaze moved on, and the moment was over, leaving you with a strange mix of emotions that you couldn't quite untangle.

The concert ended with a final burst of energy, the crowd erupting into applause as the group took their bows. You clapped along with everyone else, but your mind was still elsewhere, lost in the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings that Rosé had stirred up.

As the lights came up and the crowd began to disperse, Somi turned to you, her face flushed with excitement. "That was incredible! I'm so glad you came with me!"

"Yeah, it was amazing," you agreed, though your voice lacked the enthusiasm that Somi's held.

She didn't seem to notice, still buzzing with the afterglow of the concert. "We should totally do this again sometime! I can't believe how good they were live!"

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Definitely."

But as you made your way out of the venue, your thoughts kept drifting back to Rosé. The concert was over, but the memory of your encounter with her lingered, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business, like there was something more to be said, something more to be done.

You couldn't shake the feeling that you'd missed an opportunity, that there was something important that had been left unsaid. And as you and Somi walked through the crowd, your mind raced with possibilities, wondering if you'd ever get the chance to speak to her again.

— — — — —

The ride home was a blur of neon lights and distant chatter. Somi was still gushing about the concert, replaying her favorite moments and showing you clips she'd captured on her phone. You tried to engage, to share in her excitement, but your mind was elsewhere, still stuck in that dimly lit hallway where you'd spoken to Rosé.

By the time you arrived back at your apartment, Somi had finally started to wind down. She flopped onto the couch with a satisfied sigh, scrolling through her phone for more Blackpink content.

"That was seriously one of the best nights ever," she said, glancing up at you with a grin. "Thanks for coming with me."

"I'm glad I did," you replied, and you meant it. Despite the overwhelming emotions, there was something about the night that felt... significant.

Somi yawned, clearly exhausted from all the excitement. "I think I'm going to crash," she said, standing up and stretching. "But we should totally talk about this tomorrow. I want to hear all your thoughts about the concert."

You nodded, watching as she headed to her room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The apartment was quiet now, the only sound the faint hum of traffic outside. You sank onto the couch, finally allowing yourself to process everything that had happened.

Your mind kept drifting back to Rosé, to the way she had looked at you, the way her voice had sounded in that quiet hallway. There was something about the encounter that you couldn't shake, something that felt unfinished.

Without really thinking, you pulled out your phone and opened up a search engine, typing in "Rosé Blackpink" out of curiosity. As the search results popped up, you were greeted with countless images of her—performing on stage, attending events, posing for photoshoots. She looked just as stunning in the photos as she had in person, but there was something different about the woman you'd met.

In the photos, she was polished, poised, the image of a global superstar. But the Rosé you had spoken to in the hallway had been different—more relaxed,

more real. There had been a vulnerability in her eyes, a warmth in her smile, that you hadn't expected.

You found yourself scrolling through the images, searching for that same warmth, that same realness, but it wasn't there. In the photos, she was Rosé, the idol, the star, but in the hallway, she had just been... herself.

As you continued to scroll, you came across a video of the concert you had just attended. Curious, you clicked on it, watching as the camera panned over the crowd before zooming in on the stage. The energy of the concert was palpable, even through the screen, but your focus was solely on Rosé.

The video captured the final song, the one where Rosé had looked out into the crowd, her voice filled with emotion. You watched as she sang, her eyes sweeping over the audience, and for a moment, you could almost convince yourself that she was looking at you.

But as the video continued, you noticed something that made your heart skip a beat. Just before the song ended, Rosé glanced off to the side of the stage, her expression shifting subtly. It was a brief moment, barely noticeable, but it felt significant.

You replayed the video, watching that moment over and over, trying to decipher the meaning behind it. Was she looking for someone? Was she thinking about your conversation? Or was it just a trick of the camera, a coincidence that meant nothing?

The questions swirled in your mind, making it impossible to focus on anything else. You tried to push them away, telling yourself that it was just a chance encounter, that it didn't mean anything, but the doubts lingered.

Finally, you set your phone down, running a hand through your hair with a frustrated sigh. You needed to stop overthinking this. It had been a moment, a brief, fleeting moment, and nothing more.

But as you lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, you couldn't help but wonder. What if it had been more? What if there was something deeper, something that you hadn't fully grasped?

The questions haunted you as you drifted off to sleep, leaving you with a strange sense of anticipation, like you were standing on the edge of something important, something life-changing, but you didn't know what it was.

— — — —

The next morning, you woke up feeling restless, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. Somi was already up, humming to herself as she made breakfast, but you couldn't bring yourself to join her. Instead, you grabbed your phone and headed out to the small balcony attached to your apartment, hoping the fresh air would help clear your head.

As you stood outside, your thoughts drifted back to the concert, to Rosé, and to the way she had looked at you. There was something about that moment, about the way she had spoken to you, that you couldn't shake. It felt like there was more to it, something left unsaid, something unfinished.

You stared out at the city, trying to piece together the puzzle of the night before. Why had Rosé taken the time to talk to you? Why had she seemed so different from the image you had of her—a global superstar with thousands of fans at her feet? The encounter felt significant, but you couldn't put your finger on why.

Somi's voice pulled you from your thoughts. "Hey, you okay out there?" she called from the kitchen.

"Yeah," you replied, though your voice lacked conviction. "Just thinking."

Somi appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame as she looked at you with concern. "You've been quiet since last night. Did something happen?"

You hesitated, not sure how to explain what you were feeling. "It's nothing, really. Just... processing, I guess."

She gave you a knowing smile. "The concert was pretty intense, huh? I saw the way you were watching the stage. It's like you were in a trance."

You nodded, your thoughts drifting back to Rosé's performance, the way her voice had wrapped around you, pulling you into a world where only the two of you existed. "Yeah... something like that."

Somi grinned, pushing off the doorframe. "I knew you'd come around! I'll make a Blinks fan out of you yet."

You forced a laugh, trying to match her enthusiasm, but the unease lingered. There was something more to last night, something you couldn't quite grasp. And it was gnawing at you, refusing to let go.

After breakfast, you decided to take a walk to clear your head. You needed to get out, to think, to figure out what was bothering you so much. Somi offered to come with you, but you declined, telling her you needed some time alone.

The streets were quieter than usual, the weekend morning lulling the city into a slow start. You wandered aimlessly, your feet carrying you without direction, your mind replaying every detail of the night before. The way Rosé had looked at you, the way she had smiled—there was something there, something that made you feel seen in a way you hadn't expected.

As you turned a corner, your thoughts still tangled, you nearly bumped into someone coming from the opposite direction. You looked up, an apology ready on your lips, but the words died in your throat when you saw who it was.

It was Rosé.

She was standing right in front of you, dressed casually in jeans and a simple jacket, a baseball cap pulled low over her eyes. For a moment, neither of you moved, both caught off guard by the sudden encounter.

"Hi," she said, her voice soft, almost hesitant.

"Hi," you echoed, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn't believe it—what were the chances?

Rosé looked around, as if checking to see if anyone was watching, then back at you, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

"Me neither," you replied, your mind racing to catch up with the situation. "Are you... are you following me?"

Her eyes widened in surprise, then she laughed, a sound so genuine and warm that it made your heart flutter. "No, not at all. I'm just... I don't know. I guess it's fate or something."

"Fate?" you repeated, the word hanging between you like a question that neither of you could answer.

She nodded, her smile fading into something more serious. "Yeah, maybe. Or maybe I just... I don't know, wanted to see you again."

Your breath caught in your throat. There was something in her eyes, something that made you feel like this moment was teetering on the edge of something bigger, something you couldn't quite grasp.

Before you could respond, she glanced around again, her expression shifting. "Listen, I know this might sound strange, but... would you mind walking with me for a bit? I'd like to talk, if that's okay."

You hesitated, still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that Rosé was standing in front of you, asking to spend more time together. "Sure," you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled, a genuine smile that seemed to reach her eyes, and motioned for you to follow her. The two of you started walking, side by side, the city moving around you as if in a different world. Neither of you spoke at first, the silence between you comfortable, but charged with anticipation.

As you walked, Rosé glanced over at you, her expression contemplative. "You know, I don't get to do this often," she said quietly.

"Do what?" you asked, curious.

"Just... be myself," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "Away from the cameras, the expectations. It's nice to have a conversation without all the noise."

You nodded, feeling a deep sense of connection to her words. "I can imagine. It must be exhausting, always being in the spotlight."

"It is," she admitted, her eyes distant for a moment. "But last night... talking to you, it felt different. Like I could just be me."

There was a softness in her tone, something that made your heart ache with a strange mix of emotions. You wanted to say something, to tell her that you felt the same, but the words were stuck in your throat.

The two of you continued walking until you found yourselves in front of a small, cozy café tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. It was the kind of place that looked like it was straight out of a postcard, with ivy creeping up the walls and a charming little sign that swung gently in the breeze.

Rosé hesitated at the entrance, then turned to you with a smile. "Do you want to grab a coffee? My treat.”

"Sure," you replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

The café was warm and inviting, with the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Rosé led you to a table in the corner, away from the few other patrons, and the two of you sat down, the atmosphere between you comfortable, but still tinged with something unspoken.

As you both sipped your drinks, the conversation began to flow more easily. Rosé was surprisingly down-to-earth, sharing stories about her life, her travels, and the little things that made her happy. You found yourself opening up as well, sharing stories from your own life, laughing at shared experiences, and finding common ground in unexpected places.

The connection between you grew stronger with each passing moment, and for a while, it felt like the outside world didn't exist—just the two of you, talking and laughing over coffee.

But then, just as you were beginning to relax completely, Rosé's phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at it, her expression shifting slightly, but then she smiled at you and put the phone face down on the table, clearly not wanting to interrupt your time together.

"You're popular," you teased lightly, trying to keep the mood light.

Rosé chuckled, her eyes twinkling. "It's probably just work stuff. I try not to let it interfere when I'm enjoying myself."

"Well, I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," you said, feeling a warmth spread through you.

She looked at you, her gaze softening. "I really am. This is... nice. Just being able to sit and talk like this."

There was a moment of comfortable silence between you, and then Rosé's phone buzzed again. This time, she let out a small sigh and reached for it.

"Sorry, let me just check this quickly," she said, her tone apologetic.

"Of course," you replied, trying to ignore the slight pang of disappointment.

Rosé glanced at the screen, her eyes widening slightly as she read the message. A small smile tugged at her lips, and then she looked up at you, her expression somewhere between amused and mischievous.

"Everything okay?" you asked, curious about what had caused her reaction.

She nodded, biting her lip as if holding back a laugh. "Yeah, it's just... do you trust me?"

The question caught you off guard, but there was something in her tone, in the playful glint in her eyes, that made you smile. "I think so... why?"

She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Because I just had a crazy idea, and I think it could be a lot of fun."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued but wary. "What kind of crazy idea?"

Rosé grinned, her excitement almost contagious. "How do you feel about a little adventure? Something spontaneous?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, the idea of doing something completely

out of the ordinary both thrilling and nerve-wracking. "What did you have in mind?"

She looked around the café, as if making sure no one was listening, then leaned in closer. "Well, I just got a text from one of the girls in my group. They're doing something kind of wild today, and they dared me to bring someone along. Someone... unexpected."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "You mean... you want me to come with you?"

"Yeah," she said, her smile widening. "If you're up for it. It's nothing dangerous, I promise. Just a little spontaneous fun."

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with possibilities. This was definitely not what you had expected when you woke up this morning, but the idea of spending more time with Rosé, of being part of whatever adventure she had in mind, was too tempting to resist.

"Okay," you said, feeling a rush of excitement. "I'm in."

Rosé's eyes lit up with excitement. "Great! Let's go before we change our minds."

As the two of you quickly finished your drinks and prepared to leave the café, your heart raced with anticipation. Whatever was about to happen, it was sure to be something you would never forget.

#blackpink x reader #blackpink #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink x fem #blackpink x you #blackpink fanfiction #blackpink x fem reader #rosé blackpink #blackpink rosé #blackpink reactions #rosé x reader #park chaeyoungxfem #rosé fluff #rosé x fem

264 notes · View notes

wolverigrl · 2 months ago

Text

Party (1)

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: Sooo this part was written right after clubbing, and I may got carried away, which why I divided it into two parts. The next part should be online on Monday or Tuesday! So stay tuned! :)

Warnings: smut (not completely detailed), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), mentions of alcohol, some swearing, mentions of pregnancy

Not proofread!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

---------------------------------------------------

It's happening. I'm officially a year older today. Honestly, I don't even feel the change. Except for maybe the overwhelming sense of everything right now - the music, the laughter, the champagne that seems to be in my hand all the time - and him. Especially him. Hugh.

The night feels like a dream, but it's real - my birthday, my party. I rented this entire club for the occasion, and it's filled to the brim with friends, the people I care about, the ones who've been there through everything. Some are people I used to only see on screens, in magazines, but now they're real, they're here, and they're celebrating me. It's surreal.

The cast of The Greatest Showman showed up early, and I've barely had amoment to myself. Zac and Zendaya are dancing like they don't have a care in the world. Keala's by the bar, harmonizing with the DJ's set like only she can. Everywhere I turn, someone new is pulling me in for a hug, giving me a gift, toasting to me and wishing me all the best.

"Happy birthday, y/n!" Another friend comes up to me - one of the faces I vaguely recognize through the blur of champagne and flashing lights. They hand me a beautifully wrapped gift, and I accept it with a smile, although my mind is elsewhere. I'm grateful, of course, but the attention, the noise, the constant flow of people - it's overwhelming.

But my eyes always drift back to him. Hugh.

I catch a glimpse of him near the bar, his tall, broad frame leaning casually as he sips martini, talking to Ryan. The way the dim lights catch his features - sharp jawline, eyes that sparkle with a mischievous glint - it's like time slows down when I see him. My heart speeds up, a familiar heat spreading through me. It's not the alcohol. It's him.

I can't stop thinking about him, not tonight. There's something about the way he looks, how he moves in that perfectly tailored suit that drives me crazy. Maybe it's because I've had one too many glasses of champagne, or maybe it's just that he's Hugh and he's everything I want right now. I'm feeling it, that hormonal pull that still won't quit. It's like I'm on fire, and he's the only one who can put it out.

Our eyes meet across the room. A slow, easy smile spreads across his lips, and I feel a rush of heat flood through me. God, he's gorgeous. I feel myself gravitating toward him before I even realize what I'm doing weaving through the crowd.

"Enjoying your party, love?" His voice is low when I reach him, the deep itmbre sending shivers down my spine. He leans in, his breath warm against my ear, and I inhale the familiar scent of him - something earthy, masculine, mixed with the faintest hint of martini.

"I would be enjoying it a lot more if you weren't all the way over here." I murmur, my fingers finding the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer.

Hugh laughs softly, his hand sliding around my waist with such ease it feels like second nature.

"Oh, I see. Is the birthday girl feeling a little. neglected?"

"Maybe." I tease, but the truth is, it's not just that. It's everything. I feel wound up, my body buzzing from the alcohol, the excitement, and from him. The way his hand rests so possessively on my waist. The way his eyes darken just a bit when I lean in closer and my chest brushing against his.

He's trying to play it cool, but I know him too well. He feels it too, this spark between us that's been burning hotter as the night goes on. And right now, I can't think of anything but us.

I press my body against his, my lips just grazing his ear as I whisper.

"You know, I've been thinking about you all night."

His grip tightens on my waist, his thumb brushing my hip in a way that makes me bite my lip.

"Oh is that so?" His voice is teasing, but there's an edge to it now, something darker and more primal.

"Mmhmm" I hum, letting my hands drift up his chest, feeling the firmness of his body beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. My fingers toy with his collar, brushing against his skin.

"I can't stop thinking about how good you look in this suit."

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound hat vibrates through my body.

"You're playing with fire, baby."

"Oh I like the burn." I grin.

For a moment, we're just standing here, locked in this invisible dance of tension and desire, the noise of he party fading into the background. My fingers slip into his hair, tugging lightly, and I can feel the way his breath catches in response. He doesn't move, just looks at me with that slow smoldering gaze that makes my knees feel weak.

"Y/n.." he murmurs, his voice a little rough now, like he's barely holding himself back. "We're at your birthday party. You do realize that?"

I grin, pressing my hips against him as I lean up to whisper in his ear, "And what do you wanna do about that?"

His hand grips my waist tighter pulling me even closer, his mouth so close to mine I can feel his breath against my lips.

"You're trouble, you know that?"

"Only for you, baby."

Before I can say anything else, the music changes, and I feel the beat thrum through my body, pulling me onto the dance floor. Hugh follows, his hands on my hips as we move together.

Dancing with him feels like the most natural thing in the world. Every sway of my hips, every turn, it's like our bodies are in sync, perfectly attuned to each other. I can feel the heat of his hands on my skin, even through the fabric of my dress, and it makes me ache for more.

I turn in his arms, pressing my back against his chest and grinding against him as the music pulses around us. His hands tighten on my hips pulling me back harder against him, and I can feel his breath on my neck, hot and heavy.

"Y/n.." he whispers in my ear, voice strained but playful.

"You're making it very hard to be a gentleman right now."

A wicked smile curves my lips. I glance over my shoulder, giving him a sultry look. "Who said I want you to be a gentleman?"

His eyes darken, the playful glint replaced by something more primal. He presses a kiss to my neck, just below my ear, sending goosebumps down my arms. I turn in his arms, facing him fully, and pull him into another kiss, this one deeper, more intense, oblivious to the crowd dancing around us

He groans softly into the kiss, his hands sliding down my sides and his fingers gripping my hips like he's trying to keep some semblance of control. But I can feel him losing it, just as much as I am. The way his body presses into mine, the heat between us - it's almost unbearable.

The music blurs into the background, and all I can think about is the feel of him behind me. His body moving with mine, the way his hands seem to leave trails of fire on my skin. I look up, our lips just inches apart.

"We should stop.." he murmurs though his grip on me doesn't loosen. If anything, he pulls me closer.

I tilt my head up, brushing my lips against his in the barest of touches, teasing.

"Do you really want to?"

He doesn't answer with words. Instead, his mouth crashes against mine, and I lose myself in the taste of him. My hands are in his hair, tugging him closer, and I can feel the way his body tenses against mine, like he's holding back everything he wants to do.

I know we're still in the middle of the dance floor, but I don't care. Right now, it's just him and me, lost in the heat of the moment. I deepen the kiss, letting my tongue slide against hus, and he groans into my mouth, pulling me even closer, if that's even possible.

After what feels like an eternity, we finally pull away from the dance floor. My head is spinning, but not only from the champagne. I grab his hand, pulling him toward the photobooth in the corner of the club.

"Come on, let's do something fun!" I say with a playful grin, tugging him inside.

He laughs, following me into the cramped space. The curtain closes pehind us, and I waste no time climbing onto his lap, my legs straddling his.

"Smile for the camera!" I say, sticking my tongue out at him just as the first flash goes off.

We make silly faces for the next few shots - sticking our tongues out crossing our eyes - but I can feel the tension building between us again. My body is still humming from the dancing, the closeness, the way his hands feel on my thighs, even through the fabric of my dress.

I lean in for the next shot, kissing his cheek, but it doesn't stop there. The kiss lingers, my lips trailing down to his jaw, his neck, and I can feel the way his breath hitches beneath me.

"Love.." he breathes, his hands sliding up my thighs, gripping them tightly. "You're really trying to drive me crazy tonight, aren't you?"

smile against his skin, my lips brushing his ear as I whisper, "Maybe."

The camera flashes again, but we're not paying attention anymore. My mouth finds his, and the kiss quickly turns heated, desperate. His hands slide up my sides, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us. I can feel him hard against me, and it only makes me want him more.

I grind against him, and he groans softly, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I know I'II have bruises tomorrow. But I don't care. All I care about is the feel of him beneath me, the way his mouth moves against mine and the way his hands are everywhere at once.

We're lost in each other, so caught in the heat of the moment that I barely register the curtain ripping open. It takes a second for reality to hit, but when it does, it's not subtle.

"Hey! No funny business in there!" a voice teases, giggling as it echoes in the small booth.

I freeze, still straddling Hugh, our lips inches apart, our breathing heavy. I look up and find Chris standing there with his brother Scott, both grinning like they've just caught us in the act - because, well, they pretty much have.

"Really, guys?" I groan, burying my face in Hugh's neck in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. Hugh chuckles, his chest vibrating beneath me, still catching his breath.

Chris gives me an exaggerated wink. "What? Thought we'd come join the party. The booth's big enough for four, right?"

"Get out of here, man!" Hugh says with a laugh, shaking his head, though he's still holding onto me like he has no intention of letting go. His hands remain firm on my waist and his body warm beneath mine. Scott leans against the doorway of the booth, grinning. "You know, we're happy for you two, but maybe save the PDA for after the birthday cake?"

I roll my eyes and slide off Hugh's lap, standing up and adjusting my dress, trying not to look too flustered.

"Fine, fine. The booth is yours!"

Hugh stands up behind me, smoothing down his suit and running a hand through his hair. He's got that mischievous glint in his eyes, though one that tells me this is far from over.

"Have fun!" he says, stepping out of the booth, his hand slipping into mine as we head back toward the party. I squeeze his fingers, unable to hide the grin on my face. But as we walk away, I feel the heat between us still simmering beneath the surface. It's like every brush of his hand against mine, every glance he gives me, is charged with electricity. I don't think either of us is done with what we started.

We slip into a quieter area of the club, tucked away from the noise of the party.

There's a small storage room just off the side of the main hallway, dimly lit, the perfect place to catch our breath and maybe finish what we started.

Inside the storage room, it's cramped and cluttered, a stark contrast to the opulent club just outside. The air smells faintly of cleaning products and dust. Shelves ine the walls, stacked with supplies - boxes, extra bottles of liquor, random equipment that looks untouched for months. There's a small, rickety table in the corner, just big enough for me to sit on, though it Iooks like it could collapse at any moment.

Hugh's hands are on me the second the door clicks shut. His lips find mine in a fierce, hungry kiss, and the world around us fades into a blur of heat and need. His fingers grip my tips, pulling me against him, and can feel the hardness of him through his pants, pressing insistently against me, The urgency between us is undeniable, like we've been holding back all night and can't wait another second.

He guides me backward, and stumble slightly as my back hits the edge of the small table, my breath catching. His mouth leaves a scorching trail along my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin where my shoulder meets my collarbone. I shiver, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

"I need you." I whisper, my voice breathy and desperate.

His response is a low growl vibrating against my skin. "God, y/n.. I need you too. I've needed you all night."

With one swift motion, he lifts me onto the table, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. The table creaks beneath me, unsteady from our combined weight, but neither of us cares. His hands slide up my thighs, pushing my dress higher, bunching it around my hips.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me." he murmurs against my ear, his voice thick with desire. His nands grip my waist, and his lips brush my neck again, leaving a trail of heat wherever he touches.

"I've been thinking about you.. imagining this.. every second of tonight."

A soft moan escapes my lips as his fingers tease the edge of my panties, and I arch my back, pressing against him. "Hugh please.."

Hugh's mouth crashes back onto mine swallowing my words. He fumbles with his belt, the leather slipping through the loops with a soft hiss, and the sound alone makes my pulse race. I can feel the tension in his body, the way his hands shake slightly with need, and it drives me wild.

He pulls my panties to the side, and I gasp as his fingers slide against me, teasingly testing.

"Fuck. You're so wet." he whispers, his voice hoarse. His fingers dip inside me briefly, making me gasp.

"And all for me?"

"Only for you baby.." I manage to say parely able to form the words through the haze of desire.

I need you, Hugh. Now."

With a groan, he frees himself from his pants, and I feel the hot, hard length of him pressing against my thigh. His fingers dig into my hips as he positions himself at my entrance, and I bite my lip, already rembling with anticipation.

"Tell me what you want." he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. "Say it."

"I want you." I breathe, my voice shaking with need.

"I want you to fuck me."

He pushes inside me slowly, inch by inch, and my head falls back as a moan escapes my lips. The sensation of him filling me is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretches me and takes me.

"Fucking hell, y/n." he groans, his forehead pressed against mine as he bottoms out inside me.

"You feel...so fucking good."

The table creaks beneath us, swaying slightly from our movements, but I barely notice. My legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he begins to move slow at first, then harder, faster, until the rhythm of his thrusts matches the beat of the music still thudding through the walls. With every movement, I feel the tension building inside me, winding tighter and tighter until l'm on the verge of breaking. Hugh's hands roam my body, gripping my thighs my hips, sliding up to cup my breasts through my dress. His lips find mine again, his tongue tangling with mine as he thrusts into me with a desperation that mirrors my own.

"You make me feel so good.." I whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders.

"Don't stop... please, don't stop.."

His hand slides down to grip my ass pulling me harder against him as he thrusts deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"I love you, y/n." he groans, his voice rough with need. "I fucking love you."

"I love you, Hugh." I whisper, my body trembling as I hold onto him for dear life.

"I love you so much."

We're completely lost in each other now, the world around us disappearing as we move together and the table creaking loudly beneath us.

At one point, I hear something fall - a bottle or maybe a box knocked off one of the shelves - but neither of us cares. We're too far gone, too wrapped up in the heat of the moment to think about anything else.

His thrusts become more erratic, harder, faster, and I feel the tension inside me snap.

My climax crashes through me, sending waves of pleasure rippling through every nerve in my body. I cry out, my nails raking down his back as I hold on, riding the wave of ecstasy.

Hugh groans loudly as he follows me over the edge, his body tensing as he thrusts one last time, his release hot and deep inside me. We're both shaking, breathless, our bodies pressed so tightly together it's like we're one.

For at few moments, we - just stay like that, holding each other with our foreheads pressed together as we try to catch our breath. The room is silent now, save for the sound of our breathing, the faint thump of music still vibrating through the walls.

After a long moment, Hugh pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and intense as he looks at me. He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips.

"You're amazing." he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

I smile, my heart still racing. "So are you."

He kisses me again, but this time slower and sweeter, like he's savoring the moment. Then, with a soft laugh he pulls back and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief.

"Here, love." he says with a grin, his back pocket and pulling out a handkerchief. It's such a gentlemanly gesture, one that makes me laugh softly. He helps me clean up, his touch careful and respectful, and I can't help but feel a rush of affection for him in that moment.

"Always prepared, huh?" I tease, running a hand through his tousled hair, which is still slightly damp with sweat from our heated encounter.

"I like to think so." he replies with a wink, adjusting his pants and redoing his belt.

He then wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer while kissing softly my forehead.

"You okay?" he murmurs, his voice soft.

smile, my heart still pounding 'More than okay.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to my forehead before slowly puling away and helping me straighten out my dress. We both fumble with our clothes trying to make ourselves look at least somewhat presentable, but I can't stop myself from smoothing his shirt, adjusting his tie, and brushing a hand through his hair.

"You're fussing." He says with a lazy smile while his hands find my waist again. "They're going to know we've been up to something."

"I don't care!" I laugh softly, though I can feel my cheeks flushing. I tug on his shirt collar one last time, making sure everything is back in place.

Then, he looks at me with that familiar softness in his eyes, the intensity from earlier replaced with something deeper. His hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin, and for a moment, we just stand there in the dim light, staring at each other like the rest of the world doesn't exist.

"What if you were pregnant?"

...

- to be continued -

---------------------------------------------------

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sylviavf @bethexo07

Next part

#hugh jackman #wolverine #hugh jackman x you #marvel #x men #hugh #hugh jackman x reader #jackman #hugh jackman imagines #fluff #smut #hugh jackman smut #chris evans #ryan reynolds #blake lively #the greatest showman #birthday party #logan howlett

242 notes · View notes

hoernypie · 2 months ago

Text

He's late buying you a gift (」＞＜)」

|He'll come back, he'd never leave you because he loves you so so sooo much!|

tags: they don't matter today wc: idc, let's cope

Satoru, running late, found himself in a high-end jewelry store. Scouring the display cases for something that screamed 'perfect gift', he realized time was ticking.

As the seconds stretched into what felt like hours, Satoru's heart raced, knowing he was being unforgivably late. His eyes darted from diamond necklaces to sapphire rings, searching for the ideal symbol of his love. Finally, a delicate pendant caught his gaze, reminiscing the one he gave you before you two shared the first kiss under a fall’s sky. It was as if fate had led him to it, just like it did previously to you. "I'll take this one," he exclaimed, his voice filled with urgency. With a nod of understanding, the saleswoman swiftly wrapped the necklace in luxurious velvet and placed it in a sleek black box. The anticipation grew palpable, each second seemingly bringing him closer to the moment he could finally put an end to the tormenting doubt that had plagued him since he got back to his body. Would you forgive him for going with a plan like that? Would you be mad? Most importantly, would you still love him? “Stupid,” he murmured to himself knowing you’d love him forever - no matter what.

Rushing home, Satoru's thoughts swirled with excitement. The cool evening air brushed against his cheeks as he weaved through the bustling street, the delicate box nestled in his pocket like a secret treasure. His heart hammered in his chest, matching the rhythm of his hurried footsteps. His heart was pounding as he approached the home that held the answers to his fears. As he pushed the gate open, he took a deep breath, preparing himself for what was to come. Finally, he stood in front of the door, squeezing the box with the pendant in hand, ready to face you. He paused for a moment, a silent plea to the universe for everything to go right. Then, with trembling fingers, Satoru knocked, the sound echoing through the hall inside like a declaration of love and hope.

As the door swung open, there you stood, the soft glow of the hall lights framing your surprised yet delighted face. Time seemed to freeze for an eternity, the only movement the soft rustle of the curtains dancing in the gentle evening breeze. Then, in a burst of unbridled joy, you leaped into Satoru's arms, showering him with kisses that seemed to wash away the weight of his guilt and doubt. The gift was forgotten in the heat of the moment as your embrace grew tighter, your cries bubbling up like a celebration of his life. His heart soared, feeling lighter than it had in days. He kissed you back with fervor, the world outside the door fading into a blur of insignificance as the two of you reveled in the warmth of each other's arms.

After a moment that stretched into an eternity of your kisses, you finally pulled away, laughing with delight as you playfully slapped Satoru's cheek. "Punctual as always," you teased, your eyes sparkling with tears. "What's with the late arrival, Mr. Gojo?" Satoru chuckled nervously, "I got a little… distracted," he said, the words trailing off as he held up the small black box. "I wanted to get you something special," he added, a hopeful smile playing on his lips. “You know that I only need you,” you smile gently caressing his cheek, “Don’t ever scare me like that, understood?”

Satoru's smile grew as he watched your eyes fill in love while looking at him. He took a step carefully opening the box, revealing the delicate fall-leaf pendant that gleamed under the soft light. "It's beautiful," you whispered, reaching for it with a trembling hand. "It's similar to the one I lost," you added, your voice filled with wonder and nostalgia. Satoru nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as he gently clasped the necklace around your neck. "I had to find a way to bring back the memory of that perfect moment," he said, his voice thick with emotion. The touch of the cool metal against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and as you looked into the mirror, the reflection of the pendant swaying gently, you felt a warmth in your heart that transcended time and space. "Thank you," you murmured, leaning in to kiss him again. The air was charged with love and deep affection as you both knew that this small token was not just a gift, but a promise of a shared life, filled with moments as precious as the first kiss under the fall leaves.

#jjk #gojo jjk #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #satoru #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk 271 #jjk chapter 271

158 notes · View notes

belokhvostikova · 10 months ago

Text

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | After five months of no reconciliation with the man whose lifestyle became too much for you to manage, you're met with your ex-boyfriend, the rockstar, after an accident leaves you in the hospital, and you face the realization that Eddie Munson is still your emergency contact.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, crying, mentions of alcohol consumption, hard drug use, insecurities, minor jealousy, fighting, breakup, brief mention of infidelity (no cheating, though), hospital setting, head injury, concussion, mentions of stitches, mentions of blood, and mentions of seizures.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Y'all, I'm 19! So, as a gift to you (whatever logic that is) here's a fic that takes place around Christmas, so I guess, also a belated Christmas gift. Happy birthday and Merry Christmas! Also, the extent of my knowledge on injuries is purely based on the fact that I took both Health Science I and II in high school, and, well, that's it. So, if anything is inaccurate, NO IT'S NOT (because I said so).

“Will you-” so vividly, you heard his boisterous laughter dense the air sweetly, his face glowing with the ever peaking sunlight that glimmered the sparkling snow outside each time you peered up to his extended height. “It’s like you’re trying to make me fall!” His dramatic accusations were merely met with your fits of giggles, something he so gladly wished to always be met with, as the graze of your cold fingers buzzed his skin with the excitement of what used to be your touch. “Seriously, baby, I can’t finish this if you’re attacking me.”

But you made no effort to stop, continuing your precise placement of delicate ornaments upon the belt loops of his jeans, the links of his chain, the pockets of his backside, perhaps even one snuggly secured in the threaded rips of his pants. With your boyfriend at your mercy—stuck a couple feet higher atop the fifth step of the ladder to fulfill your dreams of draping green garland to surround your high rise windows—you couldn’t help the ebullient urge to decorate him as you pleased, bringing some loving festivities to the black denim ensemble he regularly sported.

Effervescent balls of sparkling reds and yellows accompanied the hanging bandana of his back pocket. “You’re like my very own personal Christmas tree!” You beamed upwards, watching a smile that was personal to himself, as he lavished in the innocence this holiday expelled from you. “C’mon,” a fatuous whine that had him chuckling with strings of fake green leaving his hand to secure around the window frame, “have a little spirit!”

And perhaps, that’s all you were trying to have now: spirit.

Because in the blink of an eye, the purity of crystalline, white snow had turned into sludges of watery dirt to meet the once twinkling hues to stringing lights that now simply became the bane of your existence. Because to you, everything embellished itself as a mockery to the happily ever after you now no longer had.

But it never hurt to try, and yet, trying became the very literal thing that hurt you.

“…What occurred in the midst of their fourth track, Corroded Coffin’s notable ‘Goliath’s Wrath,’ left fans in a frenzy, when frontma…” Your eyes blurred with exhaustion, attempting to fight back the heaviness of your eyelids that left your vision impaired by spotty shades of blacks and whites. Various pitches of ringing clashing with static voices began provoking that throbbing ache in your head that pounded your brain to mush. “…Information falls scarcely upon accuracy, though there were mentions of a family emergency as to the reaso…” One harsh breath for your dense chest left your nose to be invaded by the artificial, bitterness of antiseptic. All more of a reason for your eyes to screw shut in a brutal endeavor to appease the gnawing of your head. “…Demanding refunds for a set that had to go on without the leading m-”

“You’re up!” Your eyes shot open. His aging skin told stories of his life, crinkling into an abundance of creases that welcomed your startled awakening. “I know things may seem a little scary and confusing here, kid.” Heaving became an understatement when your eyes accepted the burning tiles of white around the room, and suddenly, whatever news outlet that was recounting the upheaval of 90s Hollywood from the tiny television that served its purpose of passing time was becoming drowned out by the abrasive beeping of monitors that clung to your body with tubes. “But just bare with me, alright, everything’s going to be okay.”

Okay? Your body felt cold under the roughness of hospital linen. “I-I…” A reckless try at sitting up left your mouth soaring with an agonizing groan from the pain, your sore body all too weak for the heavy lifting at your head, that suddenly felt the density of a dozen bricks that smashed together.

“Take it easy, alright.” The older gentleman smiled, urging you to lay back against the flat pillow with his simple gestures. “I know things are a little hazy here, but my name is Dr. Rosenthal, would you be able to tell me yours?” Your brows scowled at the disparaging child-talk the man thirty years your senior was showcasing you.

With a roll to your eyes—something instantly regretted because of the pain in your head—you dryly croaked. “Y-Y/N.” It was all too bright. God, what would it give to flip off the overhead lights? You never really were a fan of overhead lights, but his excuse of, “we have money now, these lights can stay on,” had a knack for making you giggle. It’d been five months since those overhead lights were ever turned on again. You wondered how often Ed-

“That’s great!” Dr. Rosenthal smiled, and you accepted the scraping scribble of his pen against his papered clipboard to satiate the buzz of your brain. “Tell me, Y/N can you remember anything about how you may have gotten here? Any recollections you may-”

“Where is- is she here?!” You fought the throb of your head to snap into the direction of the door, where Dr. Rosenthal mimicked your concern. In truth, the smell hadn’t been all too great; beads of perspiration coated his body in part with the concoction of spiced cologne and the bitter bourbon he regularly downed before coming face-to-face with thousands in a packed arena. “Y/N- she’s- what, what happe- oh, shit!” Cindy Jaurick had been a renowned makeup artist in Hollywood, but with the dryness of his skin, even she couldn’t conceal the bruising of his sleep-deprived eyes; splotches of alabaster cream became patchy upon his bags that smeared with the waxiness of black liner.

Eddie Munson, all leather and chains that clashed with his truest self of denims and tees. A facade so greatly curated by the hands of top executives that in a span of three years, millions were acquired to his name. Such a stupid name, you now thought.

A heavy step forward left his booted foot clanking against the white tiles, a movement too abrasive for your liking, as his incoming hand has you pushing back from his reaching touch. “Excuse me, sir, you need to step back and calm down.” Dr. Rosenthal proclaimed, a man of loyalty to his position, clearly perturbed by any bothersome that came to his patients.

“I just- what the hell happened, are you okay?!” His jewelry—the real kind, far from the fake silver he once adorned that periodically fused his fingers green, but loved them more than anything—jingled to the admission of his distress, hands harshly raking through the chunks of sweaty hair over the sight of your damaged self.

An audible clap came with the hit of Dr. Rosenthal’s clipboard to Eddie’s exposed chest, where the buttons of his designer brand had been deliberate to showcase the permanent markings of his tattooed skin. “Sir, unless you are a relative or partner of-”

“Yes! Yes, I’m her boyfriend-”

Your memory hadn’t served you right for the occasions that brought you to the hospital, but you knew enough that Eddie Munson no longer brandished the title of such, given the circumstances that occurred five months ago. “N-No, he’s, um, not… anymore.”

“Then, sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave-”

“No, I- do you even know who I am?” Eddie watched your face scrunch with disgust at his language to the doctor, but whatever damage control he attempted fell short on your solidified opinion of a distasteful eye roll against him. “Shit, no- like, I mean you called me. I-I’m her emergency contact! I swear it, I’m Eddie!”

And you slumped back against your bed. Clear as day, you remembered the cursive handwriting that marked the page with the name and number of your ex-boyfriend. When a year ago, months apart finally came to a halt as Eddie’s touring schedule cleared for the coming holidays. It would suffice to say the bedroom of your quaint Indianapolis townhouse saw little abandonment, with silk sheets becoming imprinted with the weight of your bodies that refused to leave the warmth of each other’s depraved company. In doing so, your judgment became clouded from the usual routine of bathroom care that came after a heated rendezvous. But could you be blamed? Believe it or not, there actually was a time when Eddie’s embrace brought you comfort and peace. What eventually transpired into a run-of-mill UTI had actually worsened quicker than expected. Over-the-counter medication did little to relieve you from the infection, and when your back suddenly began to ache, you knew a trip to St. George's Hospital was in need. With a close call, your kidneys were able to stay intact to your body, and the use of dialysis was spared from your future. And yet, who knew the most haunting occasion of that experience would come with the boyish smile of Eddie Munson, as he watched with lovesick eyes as you entrusted him as the man you’d want in the case of an emergency.

My god, how times have changed…

“Um, yeah, yeah, he is.” You swallowed the dryness of your throat, hoping the commotion of everything would finally settle to alleviate the stress of your head.

“Well, Ms. Y/L/N, it’s up to you if you’d like him here.” Dr. Rosenthal sighed, a harsh click to his pen that surely cemented his dislike for the gaudy man upon him. “Your neighbor has already left, but I can assure you that the nurses will make frequent routines to keep you in care.”

Neighbor? “I- um, Trevor?” Your head spun with the lack thereof details that painfully tried to piece themselves together.

Eddie's hair flew with the snap of his head to your doctor, as his scowl silently demanded the explanation you both were desperate to hear. Dr. Rosenthal cleared his throat. “Ms. Y/L/N, you took quite the fall off a ladder in your home. After a while, your neighbor had found you, and did the deed of bringing you over. He mentioned you had borrowed his ladder to put up-”

“Christmas decorations.” What a wonderful feeling it was to have the epiphany that was as simple as regained memory. Where you no longer had a boyfriend to gladly bear the brunt work of Christmas decorations for your sole enjoyment, you now had to dish out yourself. Unloading dusty boxes had usually accompanied a teasing compliment to the muscles that bulged from his arms, though now, your back felt the strain of heavy lifting, because you refused to properly use your legs. “Um, y-yeah, I remember- well, I don’t remember falling, but, uh, I used Trevor’s ladder for the, um, y’know, what do you call them? The green, leaf stringy-”

“Garlands?” Dr. Rosenthal and Eddie spoke simultaneously.

And you perked up as best as your body would allow. “Yeah, garlands!” Your voice excitedly croaked. “You, uh, y-you remember?” For once, in five months, you actually acknowledged him. Eddie. “I-I like those garlands around our- my windows.”

He remembered. Your giggles ringing in his ears like magical sleigh bells. Your touch warming his skin against the burning cold. Your eyes twinkling over the simplicity of green garlands… something he couldn’t even provide you with now.

“That’s good.” Dr. Rosenthal smiled. “You’re recalling events and… history,” he pursed his lips against Eddie’s cold demeanor, “wonderfully. It’s a good sign of minimal memory loss, which falls quite commonly against those in situations as yours. When you fell, Ms. Y/L/N, your neighbor had informed us of a seizure-”

“Seizure?!” Eddie spat.

“Yes, seizure; fifteen seconds.” He clarified. “And with that, an immediate grade II concussion. We ran a necessary EEG and CT scan prior to your waking, as such classification can offer some findings. Fortunately, all we saw was the inevitable stretching of your neurons which caused a burst of electrical impulses in your brain explaining the seizure. Checking for any fracturing of the skull, or swelling, and bleeding, and you were quite lucky. Completely cleared.” His smile broke through his wrinkled face. “Though, you were brought in with quite the gash on the left side of your head, right between the parietal and occipital bone. Nothing too extreme on the severity scale, but in order to stop the bleeding we did have to repair the tissue damage with stitching.” A vapid explanation of the overly tight gauze that somehow felt like a ton of bricks around your cranium. “But other than that, your vitals are excellent.” Check, check, check off his clipboard. “It’s very likely you’ll continue experiencing a headache, perhaps some nausea, or dizziness. I do recommend an overnight stay to ensure secondary swelling doesn’t occur, and to guarantee your memory continues to function properly. But a morning discharge should be fine.”

A deep breath allowed your head to nod along. “Yeah, um, thank you… really.” You earnestly smiled.

But where you could muster a staid beam of politeness, Eddie Munson gleamed a smile so faux, even Dr. Rosenthal piqued him with a scowl—though miniscule for his professional aptitude. The heavy click of the door closing behind Dr. Rosenthal granted the heaviest breath to escape from Eddie before his attention scrutinized you.

“What the hell were you thinkin’?!” He ambushed. Seriously, he knew you for seven years. Seven years of his fucking life, and not once had you ever dared to lift a finger for manual labor. Okay, call him old fashioned, but that’s exactly what he liked about you; you know, the whole damsel in distress that needed him whenever something fell loose or broken. That’s it, just the need for him. The need to want him around. “I-I mean, seriously, you- why couldn’t you just call me- or, or, like, Steve, or someone, so you wouldn’t get hurt?” Okay, so maybe calling him wouldn’t have been your first option. If the fact of being no contact for five months wasn’t enough, surely living across the country would have ruled him out. You stopped keeping up with his whereabouts weeks ago. But that wouldn’t stop him. It was you, for Christ sake! You wanted your garlands, Eddie would have given you your garlands. No matter the lack of communication. No matter the distance.

Eddie Munson would have given you everything.

You dryly blinked. Twice. If only he felt like that when you both were still together. “Get out.”

“Okay, no- wait, I’m not trying to blame you-”

“Really? Because that’s exactly what you’re doing. Get out!” Your tired voice tried to muster.

“No, sweetheart, c’mon, I-I know- I just worded it wrong, okay? Please, I just- I don’t know why you would try to do something that would get you hurt like that. You could have, I don’t know, asked for help, like called me up, I promise I would have answered to help you-”

Your eyes rolled against his sentiment. “What, so I’m just too dimwitted to use a couple of tools?!”

“Well, you did fall.” By your stare, Eddie Munson had two seconds to live. “N-No, I didn’t say that- I, look, I just wish you would have called or someth-”

“And I wish you would just get out!” But your rash endeavor to sit up and shove him away legitimized the pitiless reality of your gnawing head hazing your vision and dismantling your balance, forcing Eddie to rush to your assistance.

“I- okay, I’ll shut up, just lay back, relax, please, sweetheart. I don’t want you hurting yourself more.”

“I’m fine.” You gritted.

“There’s a chunk of your head missing.” Eddie retaliated with a deadpan so infuriating mocking.

A huff of disbelief rippled from your dry lips. “Dr. Rosenthal just said it was no big deal.”

“Like I care what that old fuck has to say.” Your scolding eyes ripped him a new one. “Okay, geez, didn’t know you two were such close friends.”

With no energy to fight back, you permitted his touch to push you back against stiff pillows, where his ink-engraved hands worked swiftly to cover your frail body from the harsh chills of the hospital air conditioning. “I’ll be quiet, promise.” He whispered, adhering to his words, as he silently watched you close your eyes away from him, now that his presence has garnered a throbbing headache.

By the seventh beep, you no longer found interest in counting the indications of your working monitors. But where your mind lost the simple activity, you also gained attention to the whirring voices of the television. Sat by your side on the hardened chair, Eddie’s tapping toes forced your eyes to tear back-in-forth from his stance to the static colors of live footage coverage.

“Man, all I hope is for a refund!” Drunk out of his mind, as the lights of cameras began emphasizing the drugged redness of the young man’s eyes. “Like, seriously, we’re all here for The Freak, and for him to just run off like that, dude, we paid for a Corroded Coffin show, and we’re gonna get it, or else we want our money back!”

A pan to the well-dressed reporter stocked drastically to the metalheads on scene. “Well, you heard it here first, folks. As we wait for more updates on the events that occurred that left Eddie Munson running off stage to what would have been his biggest performance in his home state, fans are pressuring for a refu-”

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere right now?” Eddie's head pulled itself from his intense stare that followed the grout of the tiled floors.

“Huh?” His gaze followed yours which briefly led to the boxed television that delivered MTV’s insistent need to showcase a replay of Eddie “The Freak” Munson, lead guitarist and singer of Corroded Coffin, running off stage in the midst of their newest single, ‘Goliath’s Wrath.’ “Oh, um,” his hand waved you off, “my team will rip me a new one later, it’s fine.”

You sighed. “And just for the record, I am self aware, so I did have someone there to help me.” You muttered, leaving his brows to furrow. “Trevor?”

“Oh.” Eddie’s lips maneuvered awkwardly. “Trevor, right.” Knee bouncing, fingers tapping, Eddie knew he should have kept his mouth shut, but the question burned his mind for too long not to suddenly blurt out. “So what, are you seeing him or something?” And perhaps he should have kept his mouth shut, given the death glare you killed him with that had him reeling back his words. “I- sorry.”

“Trevor has a girlfriend. And a ladder.” You scoffed. “And you of all people cannot be talking.”

Three weeks post the headlines that announced the separation between rockstar, Eddie Munson, and his longtime girlfriend, new reports were eager to air Hollywood’s newest romance between the amoral and Playboy’s finest, Lindsey Sawyer. To say you cried for weeks was quite the understatement, when your body physically impaired you from leaving the shielding comfort of your bed. While you rotted, Eddie danced on the grave of your love with his new girlfriend, whose six inch stilettos pierced your bludgeoned heart. Granted, it lasted nothing but a couple days, though it didn’t stop from the new pattern of recurrence in which Eddie found Hollywood’s new recycled “it” girl to accompany the image of a rager rockstar. Gisele Camarella, Pam Densely, Yvonne Huntsford; a new name, face, and body to compare yourself to.

“I-” his shame flooded his cheeks crimsen, “those were never real- not, like- not like you, not you and me real. Just what management thought looked best.” Though, his quiet admission did nothing to soothe over painful memories. “I’m sorry.” Three scrapes of wooden legs scratching against white tiles was all it took to have Eddie Munson sitting by your side. “How do you feel?” His eyes fervently raked your face. “Honestly.”

“My head hurts.”

“About seeing me?” He clarified.

Silence crept up in a suffocating manner, as Eddie watched your stoic lines revise his being. “I don’t like seeing your face anymore, Eddie.” How were you able to speak those words so calmly? Eddie’s throat choked him with unbearable bitterness that burned his insides. “You look stupid. You used to never look stupid.”

Eddie Munson had a haunting past of failures; D’s and F’s marked such a bloody red over white papers, tainting any scribble of hard work he, at least, attempted at times. And what followed failed tests and quizzes only came with the taunting laughter of jocks and cheerleaders, jeering their distaste for his “kind” that branded his leather and denim as the epitome of all things they deemed nauseating. For a while, Eddie Munson believed himself to be nothing but stupid. The grades and reputation being all the evidence needed to solidify his self worth to him. Every compliment to your intelligence he gave you knew came with an underlying insecurity within him. Because you were smart, so smart. What was a smart girl like you doing with a stupid guy like him?

So, yeah, your words hurt. As they intended to.

Eddie’s eyes dropped with shame, his Adam’s apple following suit with a thick bobbing gulp of guilt. His eyes casted upon his tight leather jeans that felt insufferable under a building layer of sweat; too much eyeliner, at times clouding his vision from the very fans he loved seeing; sheer shirts waving in a draft of uncomfortableness, forcing him to long for prized t-shirts that gave him the movement to be him on stage; and a god awful personality detailed so preciously by management to make his name a headliner’s favorite.

Yeah, Eddie Munson looked so fucking stupid.

“I-I don’t like ‘em.” He stammered.

“You used to.”

July once brought Los Angeles, California a blistering heat. You hate heat.

Five months ago.

“No, no, no, he’s full of shit, I was the one who came up with ‘Goliath’s Wrath!’” The cigar browning of Gareth Emerson’s scotch dribbled his lips wet with his drunken blubber, as men surrounding—all big money and titles alike—huffed out laughter worth millions to the men that provided them such wealth.

Eddie’s nose burned with the ecstasy of white powder, dusting his beautiful features with the hedonism of all glory and power… for once, right in his hands. “Oh, fuck off, you were passed out drunk laying in your own piss when we wrote that god awful fucking song!” He laughed, joining in on the obnoxious cacophony of guffaws that held no sense of reality.

A shoulder knocked into his. Greased slicked hair, gold rings, and a suit worth your car payment; Iverson Green. And Eddie had no fucking clue what he did. “You really don’t like the upcoming song?” He whispered.

And Eddie would never know. Information as such mattered little, as long as the man helped pay his check. “These braindeads approve of all this rock shit for the image.” Eddie bit back. “If I had it my way, I’d show ‘em real metal.” He smiled.

A blood red stiletto acrylic stabbed at his shoulder before a cloud of Chanel °5 invaded his itching nose. “Got you booked.” She spoke, her breath tickling his ear over the sheer closeness needed over the vibrating base of stereos.

Eddie turned his head to see her, a smiling Judy Carawan that had him beaming right back. “For what this time? I’m not doing some late night news bullshit again.” After the way Larry Parsons of Hollywood’s Friday Nights called out his delinquent behavior, executives were buzzing for another clash between Eddie “The Freak” Munson and talk show hosts to get the papers running.

“Hilfiger.” Judy leaned in, a smirk of confidence for her work truly accomplished. “A fitting, then you wear one of his suits to the VMA’s, and that’s cash in your pockets. And mine.”

Eddie’s face glowered with disgust, as he attempted to move away, her smell becoming too strong for his liking. “Save me a line.” He instructed to the man breaking rows of snow on the mahogany table. “Fuck no, I’m not wearing some posh-y model shit in front of the fucking cameras.”

“It’ll be one time, and a check worth a lifetime.” She rolled her eyes, a habitual stance against the troubles that came with personally assisting Eddie Munson. “Also, see.” Her slender finger pointed to the lengthy body of Cierra Kalahi, perched against the marbling chimney of your Hollywood Hills home. “Miss America’s Next Top Model will be wearing Hilfiger, too. You and some Shalom Harlow wannabe wearing the same designer is just enough to spark some attraction to your name.”

Eddie knew the venomous implications of her suggestion. “I’m not playin’ into your bullshit dating rumors.” A vicious cycle you two had to go through; you hurting more than the other, though.

“Okay, fine, then we get your pretty, little girlfriend to wear a matching dress… that is if she’ll stop being a bummer.”

“Don’t fucking do that, alright?” Eddie huffed, dragging his sweaty hands down the heat of his cheeks. His eyes felt like they were going to crack out of his skull from the dryness of being opened for the past forty-three hours. But the umpteenth swig of Old Fashioned was fueling him alongside the unstoppable fuel of crystalline cocaine. “She just- I- look, I’m not putting her out there where she doesn’t want to go. S-She’s too good- she’s too good for the cameras.”

“She’s not good for your career.” Eddie felt her words echo into a repeated ringtone that irritated his ears. His vision grew blurred with his impulsive movements against her face.

His hot, alcoholic breath fanned her bangs with each huff of his chest. “Remember who pays your fucking bills!” Nothing but the voices of Mötley Crüe tormented the background, as everyone but the music quieted to bask in the events of another Eddie Munson meltdown. “You say one more fucking word about her, and I’ll leave you to the fucking street.”

Judy Carawan cinched her eyes against his lost ones. Whatever bad boy facade he drugged himself into every night never scared her. Hell, she fed into it. “Eddie, I’m going to be quite frank with you, since no one else will be. You and your goody girlfriend will never last. If she truly cared for you like she says she does, she would do anything to keep your name in the spotlight. And if you truly cared for her like you say you do, you wouldn’t be snorting snow on your fucking anniversary.” Eddie's hardened muscles fell from realization. And Judy smiled such a sick smile. “And FYI, I was someone before you.” Eight years of work with Hollywood’s hottest clientele. “Can you say the same?”

Your lip wobbled under the harsh bite of your teeth to suppress the stinging tears from an embarrassing downpour. Despite his promises of a private evening, you braced your arms over your chest, where it became exposed from the strapless dress you uncomfortably endured, after too many magazine headlines criticized your lack of “looks” for the hottest rockstar in town. You’d never admit it, always brushing him off whenever he became concerned for your well being because of the tabloids, but he always noticed the subtle changes you made to look like the women in the city that felt like another plant from olde Indiana.

And now, unwarranted flashes of cameras settled outside the Michelin Star restaurant that burrowed burdening humiliation into your skin, as a cautious peer around the setting allowed you to notice the pitying and gossip of the goers around you.

Every minute that passed, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. But an hour and fifteen minutes just prevailed you to be a doormat. But could you be blamed? Seven years ago today, you ran into the man, himself, who turned the dreaded day of Hawkin’s High open house into a new adventure. Where you had the excuse of an actively involved mother, who became adamant on touring the unknown environment of the orange and green halls after your father’s relocation to the rural town, Eddie had an intransigent uncle who refused to watch his nephew lose another year of his life to failing high school, and imposed the young man to abide by the staff’s fake smiles, as they greeted parents and students for the coming school year.

It’s funny how one sullen face can find another in a crowd of PTA parents and their goody-two-shoe children alike. Meeting eyes and a devilish smirk on his face was all it took for two strangers to find trust in one another, and sneak away in the depths of bushy, green woods. In retrospect, asking Eddie Munson to be your boyfriend after only three hours of knowing him was quite rash—he, himself, was quite taken aback, as well—but the worst that could happen was it didn’t work out. I mean, what high school relationship ever does? But his informative trek across lush grass, a shared cigarette, and talks that had your stomach cramping from fits of giggles was enough to solidify your decision at heart. And who was Eddie Munson to ever say no to a pretty face and soul like yours.

And it worked out… surprisingly.

It was quite the experience learning the ins and outs of someone you already called your boyfriend, but the pureness of it all bloomed into the most innocent love of two people navigating the world and finding themselves together.

But suddenly, the world had a place in your relationship. The people had a say. In what you wore, what you looked like, who you had to be. And he allowed it. Allowed everyone to measle their way in. After the first promise to you that nothing would change, every single one to follow became a lie.

Because he changed.

You mustered the will to sniffle away any tears. He no longer became worth it to you. And it broke your heart. Your heels clicked their way out of the restaurant, where your being was blurred under the paralyzing flashes of people who invaded your life, capturing and exploiting your lowest moment for a check, and branding you the girl that held the greatest rockstar back.

Eddie stumbled back on wobbly feet, his mind too disorientated to care about the bodies he shoved that consequently left glasses of cocktails to shatter against the polished flooring of his home. Though, nothing mattered as long as he got to the door. But your crying self had beat him to it from the other side, swinging the grand doors that were always too heavy for your liking, and entering your home that was invaded by strangers and their substances, and Eddie… your Eddie standing in the middle of it all.

His red, beclouded eyes had disallowed him the privilege of blinking your beauty straight, but through the haze of blear lines, he saw your face so clearly fall from disappointment.

From pure defeat.

“W-Wait!” Eddie fought the incoordination of his legs to follow you outside, leaving his guest to watch in awe. “Baby, I- fuck! I-I’m sorry- ugh, I just- I forgot!”

Los Angeles’ humidity suffocated his airways that were already constricting from his sobbing chokes. His insides burned from the concoction of drugs and sweltering heat that only fueled at the sight of your broken face. “You forgot?!” You cried, swinging your body around to face the man you no longer recognized. “For the past seven years you’ve never forgotten, but now you do! What, is it no longer important for you?!”

Spit blubbered with his words, as his lips moved a mile a minute to keep your love preserved. “N-No, I mean- yes, of course, it’s i-important-”

“Then why weren’t you there?!” Mascara stained the softness of your cheeks, now too darkened for Eddie to ever kiss the pain away. “Why aren’t you ever there?! For me!”

“I-It wasn’t my fault.” He heaved. “J-Jude, she-she said this s-stupid thing was scheduled, and-and she said it’d be quick-”

“Of course, it’s never your fault!” You bit back with the deflation of your arms. “It’s always the alcohol, or the drugs, or Judy, but it can never be your fault, can it, Eddie?!” His fist balled into his eyes, as snot caved down his nose.

“N-No, it is my fault! I’m sorry, Y/N- I’ll fix it! I’ll do anything, I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”

“Don’t you get it?!” You marched up to his wrecked body. “Your promises mean nothing to me anymore!”

“Don’t, please!” Eddie sobbed. Shameful embarrassment ate him alive in the middle of your Hollywood Hills driveway. “I-I’ll stop all this, th-the drugs,” his arm smeared away the remnants of snot and cocaine against his nose, “the drinking, partying, everything, I mean it!” Because something deep within Eddie Munson knew this was the last straw.

You were done.

“Stop lying to me!” Your eyes stung with tears. “Why are you so comfortable lying to me, and h-hurting me?!” His head adamantly refused your words with a harsh shake to his head, but the history of abandonment that brought you to your wits end weighed more than his inebriated actions. “You touch me and it feels like a lie. You k-kiss me and it feels like a lie. E-Everything you do has become bullshit, Eddie! I don’t trust you. I-I just worry. Worried that anytime you’re not next to me you’ve drugged yourself dead, or-or knocked out somewhere, or… with women-”

“Don’t fucking say that! I’d never do something like that to you!”

“The Eddie I knew would never leave me to snort coke with strangers, but here we are!” You bawled in retaliation, forcing his mouth quiet in disbelief. “You’re not Eddie anymore! So, don’t stand here and tell me you wouldn’t do these things, when everything you do leads me to believe you are capable of doing something like that… something to hurt me! Because you do, Eddie! You hurt me.”

“I’m so fucking sorry! Please, Y/N, baby, I fucking love you, everything’s just been too much, a-and I forget things, I’ll be better!” You scoffed at his utter patheticism that grossed you out, turning your heel, but his large hand caught a tightening grip to your wrist. “No, I’m serious, sweetheart, I’ll change! I-I’m still Eddie!”

“Get off.” You quietly pleaded, exhausted from the sobs that wrecked your body.

“Y-You can’t leave me, Y/N, no, I-I need you.” He choked. “I love you. So much. With everything in me. Please. We don’t do this to each other!”

“Then why do you keep doing this to me?!”

“Darling, Ms. Y/L/N?” Yours and Eddie’s head parted to the soft voice of Debby Weiser. Nearly a year ago, your elderly neighbor—who came into stardom in the 50s for her acts that revolutionized the spreading use of colored television—welcomed you into the gated neighborhood with a gluten-free muffin basket that had tasted like pure shit. But the kindness of her effort garnered a budding friendship with the mature woman who offered her wisdom on enduring Hollywood’s notoriety. “You alright there, sweetie?” Her southern accent never had assimilated to the Valley.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You turned to his eyes, staring down the saddened roundness that no longer held the precious life they once used to. “I was just leaving.”

That night, you left to your shared Indianapolis townhouse that became your starter home when Eddie’s career was first taking off. You were so happy then.

And he hadn’t seen you since.

Until now.

Eddie Munson had fallen quiet.

Everything had, in fact.

The constant beeping of your medical instruments drove him to madness, but he figured the insanity was substantial punishment for the hurt he caused you. He’d been suffering for five months already, what’s a couple more minutes? If anything, he’d be suffering for the rest of his life should it continue without you.

But it didn’t have to.

Eddie knew he had no right to gain your love once more, and the vulnerability of your state worsened the situation tenfold, but there was a reason Eddie received that call. A reason why his heart sank amidst a phone call that identified your beautiful name in an emergency, that left him dropping everything in front of thousands that cheered his name. Whatever cynicism that tainted his heart had long left upon your sweet arrival; a ‘thank you’ filled with such gratitude towards his uncle, when Eddie busted into the trailer with a smile too large to be because of Hawkins High’s yearly open house. Wayne Munson had never asked, mostly due to the fact that his nephew locked himself in his bedroom, where the nineteen-year-old worked endlessly for his new upcoming Dungeons and Dragons campaign that followed the grounds of fate and destiny.

In the mere three hours of your presence, you gave Eddie Munson hope.

He’d be damned not to devote his eternal life to you.

“Y/N, I…” his eyes laid low, examining the threads of linen that covered you, as his fingers twiddled with his rings to appease the constant bounce of his anxious knee. “I need you to know how terribly sorry I am for everything I did. All the times I hurt you.” He sighed, as his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. “I- uh, I just really need you to understand that everything that happened to us was not your fault. At all. You-” his breath shook with a tremble, “You really were so fucking perfect during everything. So patience, so communicative, and I-I never listened to you the way you deserved, I just- I don’t know, I thought maybe-maybe if I gave it my all to this career, I could finally give you everything you deserve.”

His eyes attempted to blink away searing tears, but his emotions were getting the better of him. “A-And I know how fucking selfish that is, I had- fuck, I had no right to assume what you wanted from me, and-and put you in a position where you had to go through all my bullshit, all because I thought that in the end it would make you happy… without even speaking to you about it.” Eddie's voice cracked with a harsh sniffle to gather his strength.

“I-I’m getting clean, um, it’s been really fucking hard, but I-I got the boys s-setting me straight everyday. Especially after I practically tortured them with my cries after you left.” His pity laughter softly broke through. “B-But yeah, sweetheart, I-I’m doing pretty good for myself- well, tryin’ to, at least. Still kinda always, constantly, forever feel like shit,” Eddie chuckled, “but I’m managing. T-The drugs n’ everything flushed n’ all, n-now just trying to hold off the booze, y’know? But fuckin’ hell does a beer get me through it.”

A smile began etching upon his face, where the history of all the laughter you provided him with creased his face with the lines of joy that only truly showcased in your presence. “Talked to our manager, he sure as hell was pissed when I insisted on getting rid of Jude. And she sure as hell went out with a bang, and smeared by name to the tabloids, but, uh, you probably already read about that- or not, I don’t, like, expect you to keep up with me or anything, honestly I kinda hope you didn’t, because, well, those first couple of weeks after everything real-really, uh… brought the worst out.” A deep breath escaped his mouth, as his fingers dug into the temples of his head to alleviate the dull pain.

“I-I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m really… trying.” Eddie swallowed thickly. “F-For my fans, the boys, myself, a-and you, Y/N. And I c-can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for taking, y’know, taking this long t-to get better, and for not trying better before, for having to h-hurt you just to learn, I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. A-And I’m not askin’ for a second chance- well, I know I don’t deserve one, not now or-or ever if you feel like it, I just need you to know I’m Eddie, somewhere inside- I’m working really hard on just being me- oh, but, of course, I do want to be with you. T-That wasn’t me saying I didn’t. I do, I-I always wanna be with you, I just- I, okay, I’ll shut up now.”

The deliberation was excruciating.

The process of his words that rambled on for an eternity was too much to process, especially with a head injury, and he understood that to the fullest, but the quietness was becoming deafening, as he waited for your words… your rejection… your reciprocation.

Anything.

And he couldn’t dare look you in the eyes, the ones that pierced his soul so deeply, and he desperately urged you to say something. Anything!

“Y/N?” Beep. Beep. Beep. “Sweetheart…?” His eyes fluttered forward. “Jesus H. Christ, Y/N!” Your peaceful sleep had garnered a frightful reaction from Eddie, as he jumped to his feet to urgently caress your face awake. Of course, when doing so, your eyes tiredly awoke to his face all too close for your liking, and a frown broke your face, as you attempted to move from him.

“Christ, Eddie.” You debilitatingly rasped. “What are you doing?”

“Me?! What are you doing? Are you okay? You shouldn’t be going to sleep, you have a concussion! I-Isn’t that, like, something you shouldn’t do?!” He cupped your face straight to the blinding ceiling light, that had you mewling with annoyance.

“Eddie, I can remember Reagan’s speech, and the fall of the Berlin Wall.” You dragged, prying his concerned hands off your face. “I think I’ll be just fine going to sleep. God, did you just expect me to stay up all night?”

A shuddering breath left his strangling throat, as his hands flexed at the electricity of the touch of your skin. His body tensed, as his round eyes worriedly followed the contours of features. “You didn’t- did you hear me, like, anything that I just said? B-Before you- I woke you up?”

Your brows concave with a furrow of confusion, as you peered up at him through wispy lashes. “What’d you say?”

A deep sigh left his dry lips, as he flashed you a small smile filled with sincerity. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It was nothing.” His hands gently worked to cover your body further with blankets to keep you warm, as your suspicious stare hesitantly nodded in acceptance to his words. “Y-You hungry, or-or need more blankets? Painkillers, anything?”

You delicately rejected his help with a shake of your head. “Just tired.” You softly answered. “And you should probably leave, too. Get some sleep.”

Despite his mind refusing your proposal, he knew your rest was vital for recovery, and he watched you slowly turn your back to him, as his slow steps marked his way to the door. So lonely, he gazed at your tired body curl up into itself like it once did when his presence was actually yearned by you; all safety once found in his embrace, as he promised to never let go. And though he never did, his actions forced you to let go, as he now had to bear witness to seeing you become content with yourself. Something he could never imagine doing so.

His finger flipped the switch. You never were a fan of the overhead lights. And once so, a peaceful sigh buried its way from your parted lips, as your mind rested in tranquil darkness.

Eddie’s hand wrapped around the doorknob that allowed the hallway light to bleed in. But his eyes couldn’t dare leave you once more. Five months of deprivation killed him every passing day, and one glimpse of your beaten self made him feel like an addict breaking their withdrawal. There was once a time in which he was beckoned with the devastating occurrence of you leaving him no choice but to watch you walk away. Now, he had an opportunity. A chance. To walk away. Or stay. Leaving you alone, hurting, in a cold, empty hospital room was too heartbreaking of an option to ever endure, and he was vowing to his words of never hurting you again.

He gently closed the door with no intent to deceive you, but rather care for you. Right now, what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. And his mind felt at peace knowing he could watch over you; his heart dissipating to the rhythm of calmness only you could bring him to. His quiet steps guided him back to the stiff chair that numbed his bottom and stabbed at his back. But it all became worth it, finally seeing you at peace, after the last weeks he ever got to see you your face had been permanently etched in distress, because of him.

Despite being awake for nearly twenty-two hours now, Eddie Munson spared a couple more just to look at you.

The morning to follow, Dr. Rosenthal had commented greatly on the normalcy of your brain. And Eddie felt envious. You could take thirty more blows to the head, and your brain would still function far better than his ever could. You, unfortunately, had no chance to question his lingering presence, since your body had been awakened by the prodding of a nurse who kindly checked if your vitals were up to par. You figured you’d save her the awkwardness of interrogating your ex-boyfriend, the rockstar.

“If necessary, just some acetaminophen of your choice once every four to six hours depending on the instructions. But if your pain seems to not be improving, I’ll surely write you a prescription for a triptan, whichever one we can work out best for you.” You nodded along, subtly watching Eddie in the corner of your eye, who was listening too intently for someone who was bound to leave in a couple minutes. “And for your stitches, twice a day, remove the old coverage, clean off, and apply a new gauze. After a while, you should be okay with doing it once, and by the two, two and half week mark, I’ll have a referral to remove them when the time comes.” You sighed, taking a minute to let your head process the instructions of the older gentleman before you. “Alrighty, any questions?”

“No, really, you’ve been so helpful with everything-”

“She can’t drive, right?” Eddie butted in.

Dr. Rosenthal took a long second to peer at him, before clearing his throat. “Wouldn’t recommend it under your symptoms. Nausea and dizziness can impair your ability, so we can call someone, arrange transp-”

“I already got that covered.” Eddie spat a smirk back in retaliation.

“As long as it’s okay with you.” Dr. Rosenthal sympathetically smiled at you.

You drew out a defeated sigh, and watched Eddie react like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Fine.” You begrudged.

“Alright then, you go ahead and take the time needed to gather your things, and you can check out at the front desk.” Your trusted doctor assured you. “Call me if you have any questions or concerns, and I’ll gladly help. You have a Merry Christmas, Ms. Y/L/N.” Eddie was spared from a polite holiday goodbye.

You gently smiled. “Thank you, have a Merry Christmas, as well.”

With a click of the door behind him, Eddie was quick to let out a breath of relief, as though Dr. Rosenthal lifted a burden off his shoulders. His hasty movements brought your bag of clothes from beneath your hospital bed to plop against your legs. “These yours?” He pried the drawstrings open.

“No, they’re the lady’s who gave birth before this became my room.” Eddie deadpanned, continuing to rummage through your belongings.

He snorted. “Psh, no pregnant lady would wear an Anthrax tee.” Something that very much still belonged to him, as he threw your t-shirt to your chest.

“Did you stay here after I told you not to?” Your eyes glared in a deadly squint that challenged his snarkiness.

“N-No.” A big, fat lie. His gaze was avoidant of yours, as his hands worked hurriedly to empty the bag of your pants… a brown flannel… your right Reebok… then the left, of course… an earring that stabbed him… the other that didn’t, because he learned his lesson… and some pretty, pretty pink panti-

“Stop looking at those!” You snatched the lacy material from his hands, as he threw his arms up in defense. “And if you didn’t stay, why are you still wearing the same clothes?” You prodded further.

“Oh, my god, I didn’t stay.” He huffed. And you hated the portion of your heart that allowed his words to hurt you, because how come he didn’t stay? “Just headed back to the hotel, took a nap, and came back here early.”

You allowed your hurt to bite back. “That’s gross, you smell.” But he’ll permit your chastising insults if it meant you wouldn’t be angry at him for going against your wishes.

“Can you just hurry up and change, so I can take you home.” He rolled his eyes. “I arranged a car to have us picked up, and take you home.”

“I hope you know how pretentious that sounds.” And Eddie Munson stared and stared, as you balled your clothes into the sanctity of your lap. “Well, don’t look, turn around.”

Eddie’s mouth gaped, laughing in disbelief. “Please, sweetheart, I’ve been staring at you naked for the past seven years of my life.”

“You know what? Just for that, you can go to the bathroom and wait, until I say so.” You smiled, so pleased to watch Eddie scoff incredulously.

Eddie turned on his heels with an exhale of exasperation to match, as he strutted his way into the tiny bathroom. “Can just close my eyes, and picture you naked.” Luckily with his back turned, he wouldn’t dare notice the small smile that cracked your face.

Eddie’s mind had been buzzing with thoughts for the entire forty-five minutes it took for the chauffeur to pull up and parallel park in front of your townhouse. Like clockwork, your brow arched upon seeing the movements that followed yours: Eddie clicking his seatbelt. “Look, don’t give me that look, I already know what you’re about to say, but please, just let me come in, and help you.” You huffed, letting your eyes bounce from the window to his face that was hardened with determination. “C’mon, let me make it up to you this one time.”

Another defeated ‘fine’ was murmured under your breath, as Eddie made the quick trip to help you out of the car. “Just head back, man, I’ll call you when I need to.” Numerous bills were discreetly slid into the hands of the driver, before he took his cue to leave the neighborhood.

“Hey, Y/N!” The blizzarding winter left the precisely planted trees along the sidewalk to lose their green shrubbery; your one shield from the sun that still blazed its light down the Demember wind. But through the glares, you matched that voice to the friendly neighbor who lent you his ladder… and subsequently took you to the hospital once you fell off.

“Oh, hi, Trevor!” You waved to him from atop of his stairs, as you caught sight of the reusable bags of groceries in his hand.

“Hm, Trevor.” Eddie hummed quietly beside you.

Despite the cold, he took the needed steps down to speak to you at a volume that didn’t require yelling. “Hey, I’m sorry for leaving you at the hospital so suddenly, Andreas’ car broke down when she tried to leave from work, and I had to go help her-”

“Oh, please, don’t worry about it, it’s okay!” You reassured him from any guilt. “Seriously, I was out for most of my time there, and you already helped so much with bringing me there.”

“Yeah, and I was going to head back to check on you, but they told me your partner-”

“Yeah, me! Y’know…” Eddie interjected with a wave, as you suppressed the roll from your eye, watching him proudly identify himself as such with an eager point of his finger.

“Yeah, hey, Eddie, been a long time since I’ve seen ya, man-”

“Oh, Y/N! Trevor told me all about you!” Andreas' voice echoed from the front door, as her robe clung closely to her body in an effort to house any warmth she could. “How are you feeling? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about, just a couple stitches and a concussion.” As polite as they were, your flannel was only doing so much to shield you from the cold, which was already in hand causing that throb to return from the sharp blinding of the sun. Why wouldn’t they shut up?

Eddie watched the twitch of your eye succumb to your expression. If anything from the last seven years taught him anything, it was that you were two sentences away from a fully engraved scowl chiseling your face; always so unaware of how blatant your emotions showcased. “Speaking of which, I should probably go get her to lay down, and rest!” Eddie smiled, as he took your hand up the stairs to your front door.

“Of course, no problem.” Trevor kindly smiled. “And, hey, keep my ladder as long as you need, don’t worry about it.”

An exchange of ‘thank you’s’ finally allowed your neighbor to leave you be, as the key slid into the lock of your door. “That was Andrea, his girlfriend. Are you gonna be jealous if I speak to her, too?”

His laughter warmed the chilled air that smoked his breath. “Fuck off, sweetheart.”

Your house had been all but welcoming upon the first steps. A puddle of blood had stained your wooden floor with the injuries of your head, as fallen garlands messily draped down your walls from your lack of skills with a hammer and nail. You’d never admit to him in a lifetime, but Eddie Munson was surely right that you, personally, were too dimwitted to use tools with no guidance. Turns out a leveler and stud sensor were actually quite useful in keeping your house from being hammered with the countless holes that now decorated your walls. You watched Eddie take in the amateur scenery, his will working overtime to stifle the chuckle that quivered his lips thin. “You make any comments, and I’ll kick you out.”

His hands flew up in defense. “I wasn’t going to say anything- although, how gnarly would a photo of your blood be as our next album cover?”

Giggles of shock coming from you rang in his ear like a catchy melody. “Listen, you came here to help, so please do. I want to shower, and sleep-”

“And eat. That hospital food was shit.” He prioritized. “Go shower, I’ll make you some breakfast,” his watch proved otherwise, “or lunch, I guess, and you can eat before you sleep- oh! And take your medicine, as well. I’ll switch out your bandages when you’re done showering. Don’t worry about anything here, okay? Just relax for me.”

And you did just so, following the words of his advice brought you to the warmth of your shower, where your limbs fell slack from destressing. You worked around the stitching of your head that stung under hot water, as you maneuvered your hair through the rainfall of the showerhead. But too much steam was beginning to blur your vision, and your shower was cut unfortunately short after you swiftly rid your body of any lingering antiseptic smell that clung to you.

“Ow, Eddie!” Your hand squeezed his, as your forehead became cushioned by the tone of his torso, where he stood before you.

As you sat on the toilet, he looked down, and caressed your head gently. “Sorry, sweetheart, just gotta get it clean, ‘s all.” A new square of gauze concealed your wound, before a long strip of bandage secured itself around your forehead. Your head lifted from the comfort of his belly, and he bent at the waist to examine your face. A smile grew so naturally. “There… beautiful as always.” There was no denying the lunge in your heart that soared at his words, but your stubbornness withheld the swoon that would have usually followed with a new inure look to your face. Eddie guffawed at your pertinaciousness. “Fine, I hope you know you have a bald spot on the back of your head.”

And he devilishly smiled at your sudden movements to feel around your hair. “It’s only because of the stitches.” You gruffed in protest. “Plus, what the back of my head looks like is none of my business.”

“Still, you’re balding before me.”

And you wanted so desperately to wipe that smirk off his face. “Push back your bangs right now.”

Touche. “You should really eat your food before I spit in it.”

You had the liberty of delving into Eddie Munson’s personally made lukewarm tomato soup, and a sandwich so untimely perfect, the burnt bread did little to match the cheese that surely did not melt. And yet, it did everything to fill that little hole in your heart, as one bite brought you back to the cozy trailer, where endless nights were spent concocting meals from ingredients that scientifically went together, but for some reason refused to work when Eddie touched them.

He left you alone in the comfort of your bedroom that was once shared with him, as you quietly endured enjoyed your meal, and sat with the events that came about. Seeing Eddie had tumultuously screwed with your already bruised head, and set you back a mile on the path to peace. Where you blamed yourself over the rise of bubbling feelings, you also gave yourself the grace of remembering this man had been the love of your life for seven years. Facing him would be anything but peaceful, and yet, his stupid, round face managed to conjure that settling tranquility of deep contentment within your heart that only ever built under his hands of love and care. But he also managed to tear it, and that was something beyond the repairs of five months apart. No matter how brutal. Your pillow still stained with the tears of endless cries over the insecurities of no longer being good enough for him. But if you sniffed deep enough, his burrowed cologne would fume into your nose at night that allowed you to gain a safe sleep during the dark hours.

How polarizing he could be was beyond the study of any scientist.

Between the last slurp of your soup, your eyes succumbed to the heaviness of your eyelids, as what was intended to be a half an hour nap prolonged into a five hour doze, until the sun decided to rest for the evening, bleeding its red into a darkening sky. As advised by your doctor, a couple pills were to be popped to alleviate that ache that would haunt you for days to come, so with a march to the kitchen ahead, you called for the man you needed most. “Eddie!” Drowned by your tiredness, your voice did little to amplify his name from the second floor. “Eddie!” But a second call of his name proved to be useless when nothing followed in return.

Dr. Rosenthal surely hadn’t been lying about the aftermath of dizziness, as the simple event of walking down your staircase had turned into an olympic sport that nearly caused another blow to your head if it hadn’t been for the obscene tightness of your grip on the railing that descended. “Eddie, seriously! I’ve been calling you, can’t you hear?!”

The quietness of your home answered back, as you approached the bottom steps of the stairs, where suddenly soft lights straightened the blurred lines of your eyes to the clarity of a beautiful glow. Warm lanterns and sticks of candles kindled your chimney and center table, where red bows of various sizes decorated themselves along your living room to match the ribbon of your Christmas tree that had not been put up prior to your waking. Sweet scents of cinnamon and pines worked magically to calm the agitated nerves of your head, and your eyes dragged in awe to the breathtaking display of green garlands that dressed your home to the Christmas perfection you always dreamed of.

Your eyes watered, and though you knew he wouldn’t answer, you still quietly spoke. “Eddie?”

So simple, yet so fulfilling, your heart soared at the work of his hands that ached for your happiness. While it did not amount to the pain he once dragged you through, a meaningful smile that hadn’t been flashed in months finally etched its place onto your face where it perfectly belonged.

And much to your dismay, but simultaneously your biggest hope… it was because of him.

While it broke your spirit for his efforts to take so long to return, you smiled through your hurting cries, as you finally gained the wish for your Eddie—once lost, now running through the wooded path to be found—to return. And with it, a note to keep your heart content with the soundness of peace. Whether it be with Eddie. Whether it not be with Eddie.

At the very least, you got your Christmas spirit.

Management wants to bitch me out, I’m sorry I had to leave you :( but I’m gonna convince ‘em to let me stay in Indy for a while. Kinda hard to say no to a face like mine, you know? You know. Call me to make sure you’re okay, sweetheart, or I’ll break into your house! - Love, Eddie

P.S, gave Trevor his ladder back, so don’t speak to him :)

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader

554 notes · View notes

suhkusa · 4 months ago

Text

EGOIST 21.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. angst, hurt with maybe some comfort but you really have to squint, some closure, plot

A/N. it's over isn't it isn't it isn't it over

-> MASTERLIST.

The team you had signed with gave you about a month to make your move. Which was honestly not a burden, considering they paid for everything. They even paid for your housing and other necessities for when you moved to the states.

A month also gives you enough time to hang out with any of your friends or family.

The week that you accept the job offer, you spend it with your family back in your hometown. Spending 7 days with your loved ones before you left across the globe was bittersweet. It was a jam-packed 7 days, but it was still fun. It felt nostalgic to be in the town you were raised in, seeing many familiar faces and buildings.

You cry when you bid your family goodbye.

“You tell me if you ever need anything, ‘kay?” your sister mumbles into your shoulder, her own tears wetting the material.

All you’re able to respond with is a frantic nod of your head. You crash into your parents’ arms as they whisper words of love and praise into your ears. It all reminds you of when you first left for college. You always were a crybaby, huh?

As you got into your car, you gave them all one last wave before letting the sound of the car ambience fill your ears.

You, for the most part, pay no mind to your surroundings, letting the colors of nature and architecture outside blur into one. Until you come to a stop.

Only catching a peek, you realize you’re stopped right next to your old high school. You catch yourself in the midst of a thought, a thought about a certain someone. You instantly crush that thought and throw it to the back of your mind.

Out of sight, out of mind.

———

The rest of your time before the week of your departure is spent with friends or just relaxing. After all, you’d probably get straight to work when you get settled in your new place.

After procrastinating and putting it off for so long, you finally get to packing. It’s not too hard, since you find yourself to be a minimalist and don’t have too much in the first place. The most packing you had to do was taking apart your computer. Second to that is probably your clothes.

When the day before your flight finally came, you wound up tired and lazy on your couch. Part of you was excited, excited to leave the country for a whole new experience. But on the other hand, this country was your home. You were leaving so many people behind. So many memories. But perhaps the latter was for the better.

You could feel yourself dozing off. Your place was dark as the night took over the city. You quickly input 4 different alarms onto your phone before finding yourself relaxing on the comforter.

Knock, knock.

You chalk it up to your imagination or the fact you’re already half asleep. You ignore it.

Knock, knock, knock.

Realizing it’s definitely not your imagination, you think back if you ordered any last minute items. You didn’t. So maybe it’s a burglar. Or they just got the wrong home.

Knock.

Now you definitely need to call the police, because–

“Y/N, it’s me,”

Your eyes shoot open at the familiar voice. Should you go through with calling the police? You did tell him that you would.

“I know you’re in there, I just– I just need to talk to you one more time before you leave, please,”

You sigh and weigh your options. Did you really want to carry the burden of what the conversation with him might hold all the way to California? Or would this one time be alright? Would you finally get closure and be able to forget about him once and for all?

You’re up and heading for the door when you choose. You open it to a disheveled Atsumu. He had eyebags and his eyes were halfway swollen and it makes you pity him. When he looks up at you, you swear his eyes sparkle a little.

“What do you want, Miya?” you start.

The name makes him flinch a bit, but he continues, “I know you don’t want to see me, but I just need to explain everything to you,”

Did you really want to relive the betrayal he put you through in extreme detail? Nonetheless, you felt bad, you didn’t think ending things with him would affect him this badly. You kick yourself mentally in rejoicing in the fact that you’d make him like this.

With a nod of your head, you move to the side, “Come in,”

When he enters your place, he’s looking around frantically. It’s definitely changed since the last time he was here.

“Already packed, I see,” he comments, “Are you excited?”

You’re confused at his words, but give him a response, “Yep,”

You both find seating in your living room across from each other. “Out with it,” you say.

It takes him a moment. He looks into your eyes, then down, then back up at you once again. His fingers are fidgety as he tries to find the courage and the words.

“I’m sorry,” is what he starts with.

“You gave me a chance and I screwed it up, it’s no one’s fault but my own. I never meant for the picture to get out, I promise to you that I never ever sent it to anyone. I even deleted it,”

“Then how did she get it?” you question, desperate for answers. You loved your job, but that whole incident made it basically impossible for you to return to the team with it being how it used to be.

Your voice catches his attention and causes him to pause for a moment, “I– She admitted to going through my recently deleted. I was never going to do anything with it, I took it out of jealousy,”

“But why? You hated me that day you took the picture. You’ve always hated me,”

“Not always, don’t say that,” his voice is desperate, “I don’t know why, but even before we started talking normally, I’d get jealous of you and Omi. I didn’t like the way seeing the two of you together would make me feel,”

Your silence allows him to continue.

“As for Angie, I don’t talk to her anymore. When she texted me that day when you left, that was the first time I’ve talked to her since the last time I met with her. I’ve been ignoring her texts and calls. I ended things with her because I felt myself getting more attached to you as the days went by, and I felt disgusted when I was with Angie,”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you feel like you should say something. You’re not sure what though.

“Why’d you say she was your cousin? Why couldn’t you have told me the truth there and then?”

“Because things had just gotten good with you, Y/N. At first, I never wanted anything to do with you. I did everything to drive you away, yet you were always on my mind, it drove me insane. And even after all of that, you still gave me the time of day. I felt so lucky that you’d really given me a chance, that I felt like if I fumbled in any way, you’d slip away. It happened anyway though,”

His words sadden you. But you were definitely the stupid one for giving him a chance in the first place.

“From the very beginning, I just wanted to avoid you, Atsumu,” his name causes his eyes to widen, “But then you treated me like shit, just like you did in high school. And I absolutely hated you for it. But then everything began to shift, and it scared me. You became nice and it felt like you really cared about me. Everything changed and I felt myself beginning to like you, and you’d finally apologized to me so it felt like you really regretted everything you did to me,”

“I do regret what I’ve done to you–”

“Let me finish,” he nods in defeat, “So I gave you a chance, and it was fun. I thought it’d be different, that you would be,”

“But no matter what, we reached the outcome I truly wanted to avoid. It was inevitable though, I suppose. Whether I had let you in or not, you were always going to hurt me,”

An awkward silence washes over the both of you. You hardly realized you had started to tear up.

“Even now, I still like you, Atsumu,” you finally admit, “But you’ve hurt me so much, I feel like I’ll never be able to trust anyone ever again. Sometimes it feels like I’ll never even love again,”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” is all he manages.

“Your apologies mean nothing, Atsumu. At the end of the day, what’s done is done, and I don’t think we’ll ever be able to be what we wanted to be,”

He’s crying now, but you don’t move to comfort him. Not when you couldn’t even help yourself.

“I’m moving away tomorrow, away from here, away from you,” you sigh through the tears, “I want to forget everything along with you. I want to be able to live my life without everything reminding me of you,”

“Y/N, please– stay. I’d do anything, just stay,” he’s desperate through his own slowly falling tears. And you can feel it yourself, he’s telling the truth.

“Please don’t,” you cry, his words daunting you, “You need to leave, Atsumu. I’ve heard you out, and you’ve heard me,”

You’re getting up and he’s frozen. You could practically see the thoughts racing through his mind. His eyes close and his head drops before he’s getting up.

“Thank you for everything, Atsumu,” you tell him, words caught between sniffles, “I wish you the best in the future,”

As he walks through the door frame he gives you a solemn look back, “Thank you for everything Y/N, thank you for giving me a chance,”

There’s a pause in time as the two of you look at each other, caught in the moment. You force yourself to shut the door, feeling like if you looked at him any longer, you’d fold all over again. You take a few deep breaths before wiping the tears at your eyes. Walking over to your couch, you resume the position you were in earlier.

You had a long day ahead of you tomorrow, but for some reason you were calm. It felt like the clouds that had surrounded your heart for the past months had finally dissipated. For the first time in a while, it felt like you could breathe clearly. Your mind was finally clear.

As you fell asleep in this place you’ve called home for nearly a year for the last time, you’re finally able to let go of everything.

Goodbye Atsumu.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #haikyuu series #haikyuu atsumu series #atsumu x reader angst #haikyuu x reader angst #raeworks #atsumu fanfic

170 notes · View notes

jetii · 4 months ago

Text

The Possibility of Infinity

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader / Tech x Jedi!Reader

Words: 3,028

Tags/Warnings: none, just a lot of softness

Summary: Tech finally has you back after all this time, and he's determined to let you know what that means to him.

A/N: Surprise! To celebrate 300 followers, here's my continuation of Infinite Possibilities of the Universe. I had some requests for more Tech and Sarad, and after I saw this lovely fanart from @a-cryptid-called-magetha yesterday, I was inspired to actually finish this ficlet. I have another part drafted with smut, but the tone is different enough that I wanted to keep them separate and post this first. 💙

The sun was shining, and the air was filled with the scent of flowers and grass and summer. The breeze was cool and gentle, and the sky was clear and blue, with a few wispy clouds drifting lazily across the horizon. Tech had never stopped to admire the view, and he supposed it was because he had never really thought about it.

But today was different. Today, he was seeing the world through new eyes. Today, everything seemed brighter, and more vivid, and more real.

Because today, Sarad was with him.

The first day after your return had been a blur. You had told him your story, and he had told you his. There had been tears, and laughter, and long conversations in the early hours of the morning. And, in between, there had been moments of silence, and of just being together. Of holding each other, and sharing in each other's presence, and finding comfort in the simple act of existing.

You had stayed close to him, as if afraid he would disappear. And he had understood the feeling, because he had been afraid of the same thing.

And, even now, even as he watched you walk next to him, and felt the warmth of your hand on his arm, it all felt a little unreal.

But the sunlight was bright, and the breeze was soft, and the stone was warm beneath his feet, and the world was in focus.

And Sarad was here, and she was smiling.

"This is a lovely spot," you commented as you came to a stop in front of the Archium. Tech had showed it to you yesterday, but you hadn't been in the mood to sit and enjoy the view. Today, you were more relaxed, and Tech was glad. You deserved a moment of peace.

"Yes," Tech agreed. "It is."

"I like the tree," you added, your hand trailing across the rough bark. "It's a weeping maya. I'd need to run a few tests to know for sure, but I believe it's at least two millenia old."

Tech's mouth twitched into a smile. He had known the species of the tree, but hearing it from you brought a new kind of joy. One that was warm, and sweet, and made him feel like his chest might burst. It was the kind of joy he had thought he'd lost forever. But here it was, and it was more beautiful than he had remembered.

"Are you sure?" he teased, his fingers grazing yours over the bark. "Maybe I should take a look."

You laughed, a light, musical sound that made his heart swell.

"I think you'll find that my expertise outweighs yours in this area," you replied, your eyes sparkling. "But if you're not convinced, we can always get a second opinion."

"I wouldn't dare," he chuckled, his hand settling on your waist. "Your word is the only one I trust."

"Flatterer," you accused, but there was no bite to the words.

"I simply speak the truth," he said, his smile widening.

You rolled your eyes, and the motion was so familiar, so achingly familiar, that his throat tightened, and his words faded.

Hearing your laughter, and watching you smile, and feeling your presence at his side...it was almost overwhelming. He had dreamed of this moment, but his imagination had never been able to capture the way his heart felt when you were close. The way his chest seemed to expand, and his mind grew lighter, and the world seemed brighter.

You seemed to sense his sudden change in mood, because your smile faded, and you turned to him, your expression soft and worried. "Tech? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he murmured, his voice low. "Just...happy."

"Oh, love," you whispered, your hands moving to cup his cheeks. "It's going to be alright."

"I know." He swallowed thickly and dipped his head, avoiding your gaze. "I seem to be having trouble accepting it. That you're here. That this is real."

"I understand," you said softly. "But I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

"I believe you," he replied, his voice shaking slightly. "I'm just..."

"Overwhelmed?" you supplied.

"Yes." Tech sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Overwhelmed."

"That's alright," you said, your hands sliding down to his neck, your fingers trailing along his jaw. "Take all the time you need."

He smiled, and leaned into your touch. You were so patient, and so understanding, and so gentle. You knew exactly what to say, and how to make him feel better. He didn't deserve you, and yet, here you were. You were the most precious thing in his life, and he vowed to never let you go again. He had already spent so much time apart from you. He couldn't bear to waste another moment.

"My apologies," he murmured, his gaze dropping back to the ground. "I didn't mean to ruin the moment."

"You didn't," you assured him, and the sincerity in your voice was almost enough to make him tear up. "There will be plenty of moments, Tech. Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you," he whispered. "For everything."

"It's nothing," you said, your thumbs tracing circles on his cheeks. They were light, and tender, and reassuring. "It's just what we do for the people we love."

His breath caught, and he looked up, his eyes meeting yours. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks, and he swallowed thickly, trying to find the words.

"Sarad..."

"Yes?" you prompted, your voice soft and expectant.

"I love you," he managed, his voice strained.

"I love you, too," you murmured, and the corners of your lips tugged upwards. "Always."

He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, and your eyes fluttered shut. He took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, letting the tension ease from his body. His heart was pounding, but he didn't mind. It was a reminder that he was alive, and that you were here, and that the universe had brought you together once more.

"Are you alright?" you asked, your voice quiet.

"Yes," he replied. "I am now."

Your smile widened, and you pushed yourself onto your toes to place a gentle kiss on his lips. It was brief, and soft, and perfect, and when you drew back, your eyes were shining.

"Go on," Tech encouraged, nodding towards the tree. "I know you've been waiting for the chance to study it."

You grinned, and he felt his own smile widen. You were radiant, and beautiful, and he wanted nothing more than to capture the moment in his memory. He hesitated a moment before activating the recording device on his goggles.

The images recorded by the device were a poor substitute for the real thing, but it was something. And, even though he knew that you wouldn't be going anywhere, and that he would have countless other opportunities to see you smile, Tech didn't want to miss this.

"Are you recording me?" you asked, though you knew the answer already. He could see it in the amusement dancing across your features.

"Yes," he replied, his voice soft. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," you said, giving him a sly grin. "Just don't share it with anyone. I'm not looking my best."

"Nonsense," he countered, his hands curling around yours. "You're as coruscating as the stars."

You snorted, but didn't pull away. Instead, you leaned in, your nose brushing against his, and your breath tickling his lips.

"You're biased," you teased, your eyes meeting his. Tech felt his breath catch in his throat, and he swallowed thickly, his pulse quickening. Your proximity was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but wonder if you were doing it on purpose. But then again, it didn't matter. He wasn't complaining. Not when he was this close to you.

"Perhaps," he allowed, his voice low and husky. "But that doesn't make it any less true."

You hummed, a sound that sent a shiver down his spine, and then you were kissing him, and his mind went blank. He didn't know how long the kiss lasted, but when you pulled away, he was breathless, and his knees were weak.

"What was that for?" he asked, his voice unsteady.

"No reason," you said, a sly grin spreading across your lips. "Now, can I borrow your scanner? I'd like to get a closer look at the blossoms."

"Of course," he replied, handing you the device. He was a bit dazed, and it took him a moment to gather his thoughts. You didn't seem to mind, though, and he watched as you turned your attention to the tree, running your hand over the bark and muttering to yourself.

He leaned against the trunk, content to simply watch you. There would be time for questions later, and for explanations. But for now, he just wanted to enjoy the moment. He wanted to soak in every detail, and memorize every line of your face, and commit every sound and sensation to memory. He didn't know if he would ever feel this way again, and he wanted to savor it.

He had hoped for so long, and waited for so long, and missed you so much. But now, here you were, and his heart was full. It was a strange sensation, and it took him a while to identify it. Happiness. Joy. Peace. Hope. Things he hadn't thought he would feel again. But here, in this moment, with the sun warming his skin, and the breeze rustling the leaves, and the woman he loved by his side, he felt them.

You suddenly leaped upward into the air, using the Force to vault yourself off a nearby root.

Tech blinked, startled, and then laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, the tears starting to sting his eyes forgotten. He looked up and watched as you grabbed hold of a branch and swung yourself onto it, balancing easily on the limb.

"This is amazing," you called down to him, gesturing at the tree. "I've never seen one of these with white blossoms."

Tech smiled, and his hand instinctively reached for the datapad in his pocket.

"Would you like a copy of the information I have on them?"

You pulled away from the trunk and peered down at him, your hair glinting in the sunlight. Your smile was radiant, and his breath caught in his throat. You were so beautiful. And he was so lucky.

"Please," you replied, and the delight in your voice made his heart ache. "And, if it's not too much trouble, could you include whatever you have on the soil composition of the area? I'd love to see if there's a correlation between the environment and the color variation."

"How do you know the information I have will include that?"

"Because I know you," you laughed. "And I know how meticulous you are. If there's anything you don't have, I'll come back to take some samples."

"That will not be necessary," he admitted with a wry grin. He pulled the datapad from his pocket, and began typing quickly, his fingers flying over the keys. A few moments later, the data packet had been transmitted to you, and he looked up to see you examining the results.

"Thank you," you said with a bright grin. "You're the best, Tech."

"You are very welcome," he replied, unable to keep the smile from his face. You were so enthusiastic, and curious, and full of life, and he felt his heart swell with pride and love.

"Care to join me up here?" you asked as you dropped into a seat on the branch.

"I'm afraid I would not fare as well as you," he answered, eyeing the height of your position with apprehension.

"Please?" you pout, extending a hand towards him.

"Sarad," he protested weakly, knowing full well he had lost the battle.

"Pretty please?"

"Fine," he sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He pocketed his datapad and pushed himself off the trunk before he reached out and grabbed the nearest branch, pulling himself up.

The tree was large, and the branches were thick, and he didn't have much difficulty maneuvering himself up to where you were seated. When he reached your level, you leaned over and kissed his cheek, a gesture that had his heart stuttering in his chest.

You were sitting cross-legged on the branch, and you shifted over to make room for him. He sat down, his back against the trunk to steady himself, and he let one of his legs swing down, while the other remained bent at the knee. You settled in next to him, and his arm automatically wrapped around you, pulling you close.

"So, what do you think?" he asked as his hand idly traced patterns on your back.

"It's beautiful," you replied, your gaze fixed on the horizon. You leaned into his touch, and he couldn't help but smile. "I could stay here forever."

"That can be arranged," he murmured, his voice soft.

"Really?" you asked, glancing up at him.

"Yes," he said, his lips quirking into a smile. "We could set up a lab, and a greenhouse, and a small garden. We could build a home here. It wouldn't be difficult."

"A home," you repeated with wide eyes. "You would do that? For me?"

"Sarad, I would do anything for you."

He meant it, and he could see the effect his words had on you. "I would build a thousand homes for you, if that was what you wanted. I would travel to the farthest corners of the galaxy, and I would search for a thousand years, if it meant I could spend a thousand days with you."

"Tech," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"I'm serious," he said earnestly. "I have never been more certain of anything in my life."

"But what about your family? The war? All of this..." You trailed off, gesturing to the village around you. "You can't just leave it all behind."

"They would understand," he said. "They are a part of me, but they are not my only family. And, as for the war, I think I've done my part. I have seen enough, and lost enough, and suffered enough. And, now that I have found you, I cannot bear to be apart from you again. So, please, if this is what you want, I will do it. I will leave everything behind, and build a new life with you. Here, or elsewhere. Wherever you wish to go. Just tell me."

You stared at him, and the emotions swirling in your eyes were impossible to name, but he felt them all. And, when you spoke, your voice was thick with tears. "You really mean that."

"Yes," he said. He reached up and cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. "I will not lose you again."

You smiled, your eyes shining, and his heart ached at the sight.

"I—" You swallowed thickly, your lower lip quivering. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he said as his fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "Just...consider it. I won't press the issue if you're not ready."

"I am," you said quickly. "Ready, I mean."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you breathed. "I'm sure. I've missed you so much, Tech. And I don't want to spend another day without you."

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tight. You clung to him, and he felt your tears dampen his shirt, but he didn't mind. He simply held you, and soothed you, and stroked your hair, and let you cry. He knew you needed it more than you would admit, and he would gladly give you whatever you needed.

"Then it's settled," he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "We'll build a home. Just for the two of us."

"Tech, I..." Your voice trailed off, and you took a deep breath, composing yourself. "I love you. So much."

"I love you too, Sarad," he murmured.

"But are you sure this is what you want?" you asked. "A life with me?"

"Yes," he replied, without hesitation.

"You're not...you're not just saying that because you think it's what I want?"

"No," he assured you, his hands coming up to cup your face. "I am saying it because it's what I want. Because it's what I've always wanted. Even before I knew it was possible."

"Really?"

"Yes," he said softly. "I have never been more sure of anything."

Your breath hitched, and your eyes were glassy with unshed tears. You bit your lip, and Tech knew that you were trying to hold them back. He brushed his thumb over your cheek, wiping away the moisture. He felt a tear slip down his own, and you reached up to wipe it away. Your hands lingered, cupping his face, and your thumbs traced gentle circles on his cheeks.

"Then let's do it," you said, your voice wavering. "Let's build a home. Here, or anywhere else. I don't care. Just...just promise me we'll never be apart again."

"Never," he whispered.

"I can't believe it," you laughed, the sound half-sob, half-delight. "It's really going to happen. We're really going to be together."

"Yes," he murmured, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. "We are."

You exhaled slowly, a long, shaky breath, and then you closed your eyes, and rested your head on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around you, and he held you close, letting his chin come to rest on the top of your head as you breathed together.

The sun was warm, and the breeze was cool, and the scent of flowers filled the air. And he was here, with you. With the woman he loved, the one who had given him so much hope, and shown him a life he had never imagined. The one who had given him the stars, and the possibility of infinity, and the chance to be happy.

Taglist (also tagged some people who mentioned a sequel): @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @kindalonleystars

@cw80831 @qvnthesia @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak @lovelytech9902

@frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @Puppetscenario @umekohiganbana

@resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano @burningnerdchild

@ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear @thegreatpipster

@lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777 @schrodingersraven

@floofyroro @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy

#tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #the bad batch #tbb tech #clone x reader #the bad batch x reader #the clone wars #roy writes

173 notes · View notes