#i keep remembering the way She’d talk to me and back me into a corner with her words | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deanstead · 3 months ago

Text

Worth It

Pairing: Matt Casey x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: Y/N struggles with demands from a friend, and Matt solidifies the fact he will always be in her corner.

Word Count: 2.6K+

Warnings/Tags: toxic friendships

A/N: something bugged me recently so here’s a fic! This can be a bit of a controversial take based on the context but didn’t want to go full on in the fic so anyway~ just needed to get this off my chest.

“Baby, I’m…” Matt’s voice drifted off slightly before he completed his sentence, “…home.”

You could only imagine being Matt and coming home to this sight.

You were seated in the middle of the living room in the apartment you shared with Matt, surrounded by yarn, bits of fluff stuck in your hair, sheets of sketched designs strewn across the floor.

You could feel the panic rise even more as you took in the look on Matt’s face. Especially since you couldn’t read his emotions as the anxiety clouded your brain.

“Matt, I…”

You couldn’t continue as you felt your chest tighten just a little, the anxiety and panic clawing its way to the surface and rearing its ugly head at you.

This had all started with Amy.

Amy.

She was a friend you’d known for almost your entire life. You’d laughed together, cried together, dreamed about the future together and talked about those dreams. Along the way, you both had stumbled, you saw less of each other, and Amy reached out less, sometimes forgetting to respond to your messages. Despite what everyone told you, you convinced yourself that it was just how life was and you made excuses for Amy’s growing absence in your life.

Then, she’d reached out to tell you she was getting married.

You felt the excitement first, remembering it like it was yesterday, how you had both talked excitedly about how you would be each other’s bridesmaids. It wasn’t a conscious memory, but it was like your brain had pulled it up, triggered by the words Amy was saying.

You didn’t even feel any apprehension when she asked if you would make the flowers for the bridesmaids. You weren’t too confident because crocheted flowers weren’t really your thing. In fact, you’d only tried it out once. So you’d told Amy you’d give it a shot, make a prototype and see how it went.

You could tell Matt hadn’t been thrilled with the idea but he didn’t say much, only offering opinions when you asked for them and keeping most of his comments focused on the task rather than Amy. Yet, you knew he was holding back. You knew Matt didn’t feel great about Amy, mainly because of the things he’d witnessed, in particular, the way she blew back into your life when it was convenient for her.

But things had been going downhill ever since you’d made the first prototype. She kept changing what she wanted, and even you were getting a little frustrated, mixed with a desire not to disappoint her.

So, having Matt stand there with a surprised look on his face in the middle of an extremely messed up living room only added to your current panic.

You felt your breath quicken and very soon, Matt’s figure was clouded by the tears you didn’t realize had pooled behind your eyes.

Without saying anything, Matt dropped whatever was in his arms, heading straight for you and folding you nice and tight into his arms.

“Y/N, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Matt whispered quietly, and you felt the rumble of his chest before your breathing slowly evened out once again.

Matt didn’t move immediately, but his fingers brushed off the residual tears that were rolling down your cheeks.

“Sorry, I don’t…”

Matt just tightened his arms a little and pressed a kiss firmly to the top of your head.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, scrubbing off the remnants of tears on your cheeks before glancing up at him.

Matt shook his head and leaned down for another kiss and you leaned into his embrace, temporarily forgetting about the mess in the living room.

By the time you woke up the next morning, there was barely a trace of the mess last night. The yarn was back in the boxes you had in the corner of the room and the half done flowers were laid out neatly on the kitchen counter.

No one else would have guessed what had happened the night before.

Matt was almost on his way out, draining the last sip of his coffee and smiling as you walked into the kitchen.

He didn’t ask but just studied your face for a little longer than usual.

You smiled back at him and nodded. “Go on, I’m fine.” You assured him, even though you stepped toward him and nuzzled your face into his shoulder.

Matt pressed you lightly against him and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You know where to find me if you need me.” Matt whispered gently into your ear.

You smiled into his shoulder with a small nod before both of you pulled away and you let Matt go before he was late for shift.

Even as the door closed behind Matt, you felt it rear to the surface. This time, the feeling was different. It wasn’t even residual anxiety from the night before. You couldn’t put your finger on it but it was bugging you.

Deciding that it might be good to have a change of pace, you grabbed the materials you needed, slung the tote bag over your shoulders and left the house, figuring you’d find a nice cafe to work out of.

So you did and you had been right. A change of environment had done wonders for you and you finally had a final prototype for the new flower idea Amy had had.

You snapped a photo and sent it to Amy, quoting as reasonable a price you could for the materials and stitches. You even gave her what she called a ‘friend discount’.

But for someone who sometimes took days to respond to you, her response was quick now.

It’s a little out of my budget.

Thereafter, she proceeded to give you a price she was willing to pay that was such a lowball, you almost dropped your phone.

It took you a moment and another few breaths to register that feeling bubbling up in your chest now. You recognised it as a more intense version of what you had been feeling that morning. Now, you could indeed put your finger on it - Disappointment.

It was disappointment that raged within you. Especially when you’d always treated Amy like a sister.

You felt it swell as you thought about the effort you’d put in all these years, even just the effort in designing flowers she would want for her wedding, and then you remembered the many times she’d blown you off, and when she’d been dating that toxic ex of hers and had cut you out of her life for more than a year until the break up.

Resisting the urge to send her a scathing reply, you stuffed the rest of your belongings into your bag and headed out the cafe, only realizing where your legs had taken you when you looked up at the firehouse in front of you.

The trucks were all parked which meant everyone was around.

Now that you were here, you had second thoughts and you were about to retreat, thinking you’d talk to Matt during breakfast the next day when you heard an all too familiar voice call out to you.

“Y/N?”

Of course today would be the day Kelly came to get something out of his car.

“Hey, Kelly.” You greeted back, your voice sounding weird even to you.

Kelly either didn’t notice or chose not to mention it. He just smiled and nodded. “Come on, Casey’s in his office.”

You didn’t protest, letting Kelly lead you in as if it was your first time visiting the firehouse.

Everyone called out toward you with smiles and you waved back at them as you made your way through the common room and toward Matt’s office.

“Look who I found,” Kelly called with a casual rap at Matt’s door.

Matt sat up, glancing at you before smiling. “Thanks, Sev.”

Kelly winked, more at you than him, before leaving the both of you alone.

Matt got up to close his door and glanced at you. “Everything okay?”

After all, you rarely came to the firehouse without a call beforehand. Usually, you were worried about being in the way so you only came to bring them some food, especially when you’d heard it was a difficult shift.

You nodded. “Nothing big, I just…”

You held back a heavy sigh and just handed him your phone.

Matt’s eyes moved across your phone screen as he read the message and you could see the slight darkening of his expression, even though he was trying to keep it under control.

Matt looked back up at you and handed your phone back to you. “So what are you thinking?” Matt asked.

You shouldn’t have been shocked by Matthew Casey’s complete focus on your feelings, but you couldn’t help the little jolt of warmth that still filled you even though you and Matt had been dating for a long while.

You shrugged and Matt gave you a look, which just made you smile.

“Fine, I’m annoyed. It’s like every single moment with her has been flashing in my head since I got that message and the annoyance has been piling. That’s why I haven’t responded.”

“Go for it, babe.” Matt said, matter of factly.

You glanced at him with half a smile.

“You deserve to be treated with respect and I think it’s high time someone told her. And if you don’t want to do it, I’d be happy to.” Matt said, his voice laced with a subtle protectiveness.

You pulled him toward you, just so you can lay your head against him and smiled. “Thank you.”

The conversation had gone about as you’d expected.

You tried your best to keep your side as light as possible while remaining firm, and ultimately, the decision had been for you to try to do little flower wristlets for Amy’s flower girls, instead of a large order of flowers.

You weren’t too thrilled to do it anymore, but a part of you felt obliged to, so you’d agreed.

It was only two days later that you had run into Amy when Matt had taken you out for dinner.

“Hey, I…” You greeted her even from a distance, trying to keep things as normal as possible.

But you didn’t miss the look on her face as she turned away, as if she was pretending not to see you.

Instinctively, you glanced up at Matt, your expression one of disbelief.

Matt just squeezed your hand but you could see the strain lines on his face which were a clear telltale sign he was using all his effort to hold back.

Matt was trying to reassure you, but the only thing you felt now was anger.

There was no more second-guessing on your part about whether you had been too harsh or too mean. You knew the answer.

You were about to open a small side business for your crochet. All your friends, including Amy, knew that.

In fact, anyone who tried to ask you to make something for them had always offered you more than what you quoted, reminding you that friends didn’t take each other for a ride.

Amy was the exact opposite and what really grinded at you was the fact that she thought she was well within her rights to be angry at you.

You were a little confused but the anger had swallowed it all up.

“You want to go elsewhere?” Matt offered.

You glanced up at him.

If this had been anyone else, it might have made you avoid the situation altogether. But right now, the indignant feeling had turned into anger.

“Why should we? You put in so much effort into trying to get a reservation here. Let’s just have a good dinner.” You answered.

This felt like a huge breakthrough moment for you, even Matt felt it - you could do anything you had set your mind to.

You sat down with Matt in a corner of the restaurant, pretty sure that Matt had used one of his superpowers to get the both of you a great table and you turned your back on Amy, focusing all your energy and attention on the one person who was worth it.

Once the appetisers were served, you’d thrown Amy to the back of your mind, sinking into Matt’s company and enjoying the date night that both of you deserved.

It was just as the both of you had stepped out after paying the bill when someone grabbed your arm.

“Food’s great here, isn’t it?”

You blinked back in disbelief at Amy, who was smiling as if nothing had happened.

It would have been much better if you hadn’t met her in front of the restaurant earlier. Now, you were just wondering what the hell she was doing.

Matt didn’t say anything, just stood by your side and waited.

“What are you doing?” You asked, unable to hold it back any longer. There was a slight tremor in your voice that no one but Matt picked up on.

The saddest part was Amy used to be able to. Now, she just didn’t care.

That realization hit you hard but also allowed you to look her straight in the eye.

Frustratingly, Amy was staring at you as if she was confused by your question.

When you didn’t offer her any explanation, she swallowed and spoke, “Come on, Y/N. I told you I was on a budget. You’re my friend, I didn’t expect you to try and profit off my wedding.”

You glanced up at Matt just a little and he merely nodded in encouragement.

“Profit? Amy, you agreed to pay! You are literally the only person that has lowballed me for anything crochet related. I’m not even asking you to pay me for the prototypes or the materials used for it. Have you looked up the prices online? I’m profiting nothing.” You paused and looked her directly in the eye. “Look, I think this isn’t a good idea. “

“What are you saying? You don’t want to talk about it?” Amy asked, and you could hear the tone in her voice change slightly.

You sighed. “I’m saying I don’t think I can make anything for your wedding, or be your bridesmaid. I’ve said everything that needs to be said.”

“Y/N, you… What am I supposed to tell my family?”

You couldn’t hold back the chuckle that escaped your lips. You shouldn’t have expected anything else but the fact that she was more worried about having to explain what had happened to her family members who had always treated you as one of their own, spoke volumes.

“You can tell them what happened, Amy. Just remember that if anyone calls me, I’m telling the truth.”

Matt smiled and slung an arm around you, turning to lead you away before he paused.

He glanced back at Amy before he spoke, “She cared. She really cared and you threw it back in her face. She deserves someone who treats her as a friend.”

You tugged at Matt’s arm and Matt sighed before taking you away with him.

The journey home had been pretty silent and Matt only broke it as he closed the door behind the both of you and hung both your jackets by the door.

“You okay?”

You glanced up at him and nodded before you pulled back again and shrugged. “Kind of, you know? I’m upset but like it also feels lighter? If that makes sense.”

“It just has to make sense to you. The only thing important to me is how you are feeling right now.”

You stepped into Matt’s embrace and smiled against him.

“With you? Matthew Casey, I’m on top of the freaking world.”

Matt smiled, leaning back enough to take a look at you before pressing his lips gently to yours in a deep kiss.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

Character taglists are open, hit me up if you would like to be added!

#resa.fics #matt casey x reader #matt casey #matt casey fanfic #matt casey x y/n #matthew casey #chicago fire #chicago fire x reader #chicago fire fanfic

286 notes · View notes

minniesmutt · 8 months ago

Text

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: CHANGBIN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: INCUBUS!CHANGBIN, HUMAN!READER, ORAL (F. REC), SIZE KINK, VIRGINITY LOSS (READERS FIRST TIME), SPIT KINK, MARKING, THGIH GRINDING, PRAISE, APHRODISIAC, HAIR PULLING, BREEDING, BIG COCK BINNIE, FINGERING, UNPROTECTED SEX, ROUGH SEX, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, CREAM PIE, CUM SHOT, IMPLIED MORE ROUNDS ☾ ━━━ WC: 1K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

“I don’t think it’s gonna work,” Y/n told her friend.

A weekly movie night turned into talking about incubus and succubus. Random but the supernatural film had mentioned them and that led into a spiral that ended in googling how to summon them.

“Well if I’m not getting fucked I’m going home,” Her friend said

“This wasn’t even the plan for the night!” Y/n called to her

“And now it’s a problem. Good night!” She heard the door shut hard. Groaning, she got up from the ground and cleaned up the candles and food. Disappointed but not surprised. All of these things were just fiction anyway. Though it would have been interesting.

Y/n told herself she’d do the dishes in the morning and dragged herself off the bed. Thankful she decided to shower and put her pajamas on before her friend came over. Tucking herself under the warm covers and scrolling through social media till sleep finally took her. Unaware of the company watching her from the corner.

Passing out seemed an easy task, keeping dreams at bay was harder. No one could ever know when they started but just know that you became conscious of them at some point. Maybe it was because of what they were talking about— the demons that came in at night and fucked you in your sleep. But the dream seemed too vivid for a rem sleep.

Tongue flicked back and forth on her clit as she grabbed at the curly hair between her legs. Red eyes peering at her and watching her every move. His hands pushed her legs up to her chest and opened her up to him.

“Such a pretty pussy,” the male chuckled to himself his tongue slithering inside her as he gripped her thighs in his hand.

He was just as bare as she was, having stripped both of them before he started his exploration of her body. Tongue currently prodding deep inside as she moaned in her sleep. Her hands gripped his hair tighter.

The muscle pressed up against her G-spot, eliciting a loud moan from her. The male between her legs moaned into her as his nose brushed against her clit. Her body arched up as she rutted against his face.

“Feel good baby?” He asked, pulling his tongue out of her and wrapping his lips around her clit.

“Yes! Fuck, wanna cum.”

“Cum for me then baby.”

The more he sloppily made out with her cunt the more she was getting closer and closer to the high that never came. Her eyes shot open at the worst possible time. Her covers were thrown off and her body was uncomfortably warm, her panties and sleep shorts feeling wet.

“Have a nice nap?” A male voice came from the corner of her room

Y/n’s eyes adjusted in the dark to him. A pair of horns placed in his curly hair, lust eyes staring at her. Built frame that had her drooling. “Are you…”

“The incubus you summoned.” He smiled at her as he made his way over to the bed, kneeling and hovering over her body.

Y/n’s eyes went wide. She didn’t think it would work, “I didn’t think—”

“No, but it sure gave you a nice little dream just on the off chance it did, didn’t it?”

“Yes…” Yn shyly said as he leaned down and placed a kiss on her pulse point

“What do you want now? Want the big bad demon to take your virginity? Mhm?”

“How did you—”

“Oh yeah, humans don’t remember your dreams.”

“You can see my dreams?”

“Only the dirty ones,” Changbin smiled as he placed another kiss on her neck, “So?”

Y/n thought for a moment. Never one to participate in hookup culture or go out and date so sex was just left to her masturbating. It didn’t feel wrong with what he was offering. What could be the worst outcome of sleeping with an incubus?

“Please,” Y/n whimpered

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” Her body felt like it was on fire when she begged him.

Not even a second later, he had ripped both of their clothes off. Making the playing field even from the get-go.

“Think you look best like this bunny.” the demon smiled as he groped her breasts, lips moving along her neck in quick open mouth kisses

“Wait, what can I call you?”

“Need something to scream?” he chuckled “Call me Changbin, bunny.”

Changbin ran his fingers over her nipples and watched her shiver. Laughing at how sensitive she was as he sucked bruises onto her skin. Slowly pressing a knee against her soaked core. Y/n laced her fingers in his hair and slightly ground against him.

Changbin moved his hands down from her breasts to her hips, guiding her clit across his thigh. Y/n moved one hand to cover her mouth, hyperaware of her neighbors. Changbin just laughed at her

“Feeble attempt bunny.” He told her, moving one of his hands to grab her wrist and pinning her hand down to the pillow under her head. Quickly pushing his lips onto hers. Y/n gasped, giving him the perfect chance to slide his tongue into her mouth. Forked tongue exploring every part as she melted under him. Her body gave into him as his tongue wrapped around hers before he pulled away. Leaving her mouth open to him.

Changbin moved his hand from her wrist to grab her jaw and hold it open as he leaned down and spit into her mouth. He saw her flinch a little as the liquid hit her tongue. “Swallow.”

He closed her mouth and watched her swallow as he instructed. Her whole heated up to ten after. Every little touch had her whining. Perfect effect.

“Good bunny,” Changbin smiled and pushed her legs to her chest and came face to face with her cunt

Blowing on her cunt softly and watching her convulse before sliding his forked tongue inside her.

“Fuck!” Y/n cried

Changbin moaned into her as his tongue thrusted in and out of her. Tips of his tongue rubbing against her walls and reaching for her cervix. Y/n reached between her legs to grab a handful of his hair. He held onto the back of her knees, keeping her folded in half for him, and in the back of her head, she knew she was going to be a bit sore from the position tomorrow.

His tongue slipped out of her for him to wrap his lips around her clit. Taking the breath out of her as he sucked on the bud. Her moans sounded like music to his ear, moaning into the bud. Y/n felt herself getting pulled closer to the edge like in her dream the harder he sucked on her clit.

“‘M close Binnie,” she whined

“Gonna cum for Binnie, bunny?” He asked

“Yes! Pleasepleaseplease let me cum.”

“Go on bunny.”

Changbin slipped his tongue back into her. Letting the muscle fill her up and thrust in and out of her. Y/n’s orgasm hit her like a truck, harder than any she’d felt in the past when she masturbated. Changbin drank up her essence. Cleaning her out completely as she shook from her high, mind going blank as he pulled his tongue out of her.

“Can’t wait to stuff this little pussy.” Changbin groaned as he dipped two thick fingers into her sensitive cunt

Scissoring her open and watching her every move. Her droopy eyes watched him through her legs. Wall’s already clenching around his fingers, just before he pulled them out and spat into her hole. Pushing his fingers back into her. Stretching her open for him.

“Fuck me, please bin. Need your cock,” Y/n begged

“Not gonna be able to take me without prep,” Changbin told her

“Yes, I can! Need it, Binnie.”

Changbin pulled his fingers out of her and brought her legs down. Y/n was going to question him then he laid his heavy cock on her stomach. Tip reaching past her belly button, precum leaking from the mushroom tip and onto her.

Her mouth salivated at the sight. She knew she couldn’t possibly take all of him but her deluded mind said she could. “Still think you can?”

“Mhm.” Y/n nodded

“Never had a cock in you before yet you think you can take me.” Changbin laughed, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The Incubus pushed her back into her previous position. Exposing her hole to him again. He rubbed the underside of his shaft along her wet folds as slowly as he could. Y/n whined and continued begging him to just put it in her.

He pressed the angry tip into her and moved slowly. Y/n realized how she underestimated his girth. Her hands flew to grab her sheets as he breached her virgin hole.

“There we go, make room for Binnie,” Changbin said as he kept pushing into her.

Her walls parted for him, adjusted to his size. A mix of pain and pleasure covered her body. He fit himself in as much as he could before giving her just a moment to adjust before pulling back and thrusting back into her.

“Been a while since I’ve had a virgin.” Changbin leaned over, hands pressing against her thighs as he pounded into her, “Might have to keep you for myself after this.”

Words weren’t forming in her mind. Just feeling nothing but his cock inside her. And her second orgasm coming along too quickly.

“More,” She whined.

“Just need my cock in you, don’t you bunny?” Changbin moved her arms to wrap around her legs and hold them open, “Cum on my cock and I’ll give you something special bunny.”

His thumb grazed over her clit before starting to rub the engorged bud. Her walls clamped on him immediately and his name came out of her mouth like a chant.

“That's it bunny. Let go for Binnie.”

“fuckfuckfuckfu—“ Y/n’s walls gripped onto Changbin’s cock as another orgasm hit her. Washing his cock in it as he continued fucking her through it to his own high.

Changbin pushed her thighs to the side and pumped into her till he was shooting his load into her. Pulling out and letting his cum shoot onto her stomach. Y/n looked down as his seed shot onto her stomach. She watched him rub his cock on her as she felt a warm sensation above her womb.

“Bin…” Y/n whined

“You’re fine, bunny. Just let it happen, let Binnie claim you.”

Y/n whined as the sensation had spread through her whole body. Changbin pushed his cock back into her, much easier this time. Y/n threw her head back into the pillow as he sank into her. She thought it was going to be like the previous round, not being able to fit all of him inside but she was surprised when she felt him deeper than last time. She was positive he was inside her womb.

“Look at that, just needed a little help to fit me all in.”

Y/n looked down, he was definitely balls deep inside her, Then her eyes caught the marking on her skin, almost shining through his cum. “What’s…”

“Said I would give you something special bunny,” Changbin pulled out and thrusted back into her, “Gave you a special little mark. You’re all mine now bunny.”

She could feel every vein on his cock as he pounded into her. She felt like her whole body was on fire as he brought back his pounding pace. “Now just my little sex bunny. Gonna let me use you however and whenever I want?”

“Yes!” Y/n cried as his cock hit right on her g-spot, not even something she had yet found.

“Good bunny. Keep your legs open while Binnie breads you.”

Changbin leaned forward over her and kept pounding into her. Every hit of his cock brought her closer and closer to another edge till it hit her again. Convulsing under him as he kept abusing her cunt. Changbin pulled out of her momentarily, flipped her onto her stomach and entered into her again. His hips slamming into her ass as he gripped her hips. Y/n yelled into her pillow as he used her pussy till he came inside her, not pulling out this time.

He let his cum fill her up. Y/n moaned as she felt his hot ropes of cum hit her walls. The demon only pulled out once he was finished and turned her back on her back. Y/n felt her mind slipping into unconsciousness as he kissed her neck.

“I’m not done yet bunny. Still got a few more loads for you.”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

#☾━━━━ [𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒]#stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x reader smut #skz smut #skz x reader smut #skz #stray kids smut #changbin x reader #changbin x reader smut #changbin smut #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin smut #seo changbin x reader smut #☾━━━━ [ a different breed mini series]

303 notes · View notes

flemingsfreckles · 8 months ago

Text

Physio’s Daughter Part 12

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read the rest of the series here!

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex

WC: 4.5k

A/N: this is the final chapter in this “present” time frame. The next and actual final chapter will be more of an epilogue. If you skipped the smut chapter i tried to make sure I reiterated everything that was plot related so that you don’t feel like anything is missing from the storyline.

You’re woken up by the bed shifting. You roll and adjust a few times before cracking open your eyes, you squint at the harsh sunlight coming in before rolling over to see Jessie already awake. She’s sitting up, back against the headboard, book in her hands. She’s got the blanket pulled up, just covering her chest but leaving her collarbones exposed.

After the two of you had showered you went to lay in bed. You had thrown on a pair of underwear and almost put on a shirt before remembering previous texts you and Jessie had sent months ago. You asked if she’d be comfortable with you sleeping shirtless, she had no problem with it and much to your surprise she never put on a shirt either. The two of you cuddled skin to skin and this time you held her, your legs tangled together and your arm slung across her midsection as you both fell asleep.

She puts down the book she’s reading when she sees you’re awake. “Hi.” She says leaning over to be closer to you. Her hair is messy, her smile is soft, she looked so beautiful, you couldn’t believe you were finally waking up in her bed while she was still in it.

“Hi.” You smile back at her. You run your fingers through your own hair, trying to somewhat control it.

“How are you? Are you alright?” As she asks Jessie puts the book onto the nightstand and shifts to bring herself back into a lying position so she is face to face with you.

“I’m good.” That was a lie, you were more than good, you were waking up, after a night of sex, good sex, with Jessie. You had gotten to spend a couple hours with her body on yours and yours on hers, the two of you tangled in the bedsheets, your name on her lips. You got to enjoy every aspect of her and then all over again in the shower. You both had also agreed to keep going on dates, to keep seeing each other. You were on cloud nine. But you didn’t know if Jessie felt the same, so you say you’re good. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I feel good about last night.” Her eyes trail to your neck at the mention of last night's activities.

“Yeah, the sex was good.” You wanted to know more than just about the sex though. “Um, do you still feel good about what we talked about? If not that’s okay, if it was just something you said in a post orgasm haze I get it, but-”

“Yes, I still feel good about that. That wasn’t just the orgasm talking, I want to try this, try us.”

“Me too.” You say and Jessie leans in, putting her lips to yours bringing you into a slow make out. Her hands quickly find their way to your stomach. Her fingers dance along your sides, moving upward toward your chest. A knock on the door has her hands quickly off of your skin and you jumping at the startling noise.

“Ughhh.” Jessie groans when she pulls her lips off of yours. She moves quickly to grab a shirt and a pair of shorts before throwing a shirt in your direction. “That’s probably Janine. Your pants are over there if you want them before she comes in.” Not wanting Janine to see you in your underwear you scramble to the other side of the room where the blue sweatpants you had worn the first night you slept over were. You tossed them on and sat back down on the bed as Jessie made her way to the door.

“What the hell do you need makeup for? First of all when do you ever wear makeup? Second, we’re getting on a flight in like 8 hours.” You hear Janine question Jessie as the door closes behind her.

You don’t hear Jessie respond from where you sat on the bed and you quickly see them both come around the corner. Jessie makes quick eye contact with you before she steps out of the way and reveals you to Janine. Janine looks at you for one second, her eyes immediately widen as they catch the deep red color on your neck.

“Oh my.” Janine is quickly bent over in front of you and Jessie, clutching her stomach laughing hysterically. “That’s-” she tries to speak but falls into another fit of laughter when she looks at your neck again. When she stands back up this time you can see the tears from laughing in her eyes. “Oh this is too fucking good.” The smile on her face is massive. She’s still laughing.

“Janinnnne.” Jessie whines. “Stop laughing.” She frowns at her friend, crossing her arms, unamused by the fact that Janine finds the hickey hilarious.

“No. I can laugh. I’m here to help, I’m allowed to laugh. If you wanted somebody who wouldn’t laugh you should’ve called someone else.” Janine says as she plops down the bag she brought onto the desk. And she then walks over to you and grabs your chin to tilt your head up. She chuckles again before looking over to Jessie. “Goddamn Jeff, seriously what the hell were you thinking?”

“It was an accident!” Jessie throws her arms out.

Not believing her story Janine rolls her eyes before she walks over to her makeup bag, grabbing a tube and comes back over to you. “Oh was it? I’m sorry, did she trip and fall and her neck ended up on your lips?”

“That's not what I meant.” Jessie huffs and her arms return to being crossed harshly over her chest. She finds her way to bed sitting down next to you.

“I know that’s not what you meant, but also obviously that,” she gestures to your neck, “isn’t an accident.” She continues placing a cream over the area. Janine is still letting out small laughs when she looks at the way both you and Jessie are blushing hard.

“It was! I didn’t think I was sucking that hard.” Jessie continued to try and defend her actions.

“But you were sucking. You should know better, idiot, put them somewhere they can be covered.” You look over to the side, you felt bad for Jessie this was equally your fault, she shouldn’t be taking all the teasing.

“It’s my fault too, I bruise easily, and she did put them where they can be covered too, in her defense.” You finally speak. You watch as Jessie’s eyes quickly dart down to your chest, where those covered hickeys were. She bites her lip to hold in the smile that is trying to come across her face.

Janine’s mouth drops as she watches the way Jessie’s eyes move down and back up. “Gross. I still can not believe you’re 26 giving hickeys.”

Jessie drops her head into her palms and lets out a frustrated groan. “Can we stop with the parenting lecture? This is your fault too for pretty much encouraging us to do this.”

“No way this is my fault.” Janine takes her hands off of your face and neck for a second, looking offended at Jessie.

“You let us have the room to ourselves.” Jessie gestures to the bed and the room.

“Yeah but I didn’t tell you two to go fuck.” She says before turning back toward the desk to grab something else from her bag.

“You sort of did.” Jessie says.

When Janine turns back from the desk looking confused, you fill her in on the details she clearly lost to the drinks she had that night. “At the after party, you made some suggestions, and comments to both of us, but you had been drinking so…”

“Oh.”

“Can we please change the subject to something besides what we did last night?” Jessie asks.

“Sure, but just to be clear with both of you, I cannot promise this will be completely covered. I’ll do my best though.” Janine goes back to putting in work on your neck, she and Jessie fall into a conversation about Portland and you just sit there hoping that Janine will be able to blend in the hickey well enough that no one would be able to notice.

Of course, despite Janine’s efforts, you still had to answer questions regarding your evening regardless if the hickey was visible. Olivia was the first to ask about your whereabouts as soon as you got through the hotel room door.

“Given you didn’t come home, is it fair to assume your little date went well?” She asked as she was packing up camera equipment, her clothes still sprawled across her bed, not packed.

“Um, yeah, you could say that.” You can feel yourself blushing. Olivia looks up from the bed, eyebrow raised at you. She studies your face for a second and then begins shouting at you.

“Oh my god, you got laid! Did you and Jessie have sex?!”

“Shhhh.” You put your finger to your lips. “I don’t need the whole city knowing.”

Olivia’s face of shock doesn’t change. “You actually did?”

You give her a small nod, diverting your eyes to the floor, suddenly feeling shy about how your night went. “She really liked the whole sitting on the pitch thing, and then we had the picnic and we kissed, and then she offered for me to sleep over again, and yeah, that happened. So thank you, I owe you one for that. Here’s your badge by the way.” You dig the badge out of your backpack and pass it to her.

“So was the sex good? I mean given your chipper mood, I’m assuming it was good.” She continues to pack her bags.

You feel your face burning up as Olivia pries. “It was good, but that’s all you get to know. And it wasn’t just the sex Olivia, we agreed to keep seeing each other, to go on more dates, I’m not really sure where that leaves us, but.” You didn’t want to go around sharing too many details about your evening with Jessie when the two of you hadn’t had a ton of time to talk about what it meant or how you would deal with telling people.

“That’s really exciting! The sex and the other stuff. Especially since the second we land back in Canada, you’re off your contract, you and her can do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, we’ll see how it goes.” You shrug at her before pulling out your own suitcase and starting to fold your clothes. You didn’t want to get your hopes up too high, you never knew how things could turn out.

It's not long before you’re loading your luggage onto the bus to head to the airport. You stay outside, helping load everyone’s bags including your Mom's.

She walks up to you, coffee in one hand and luggage in the other. “Have a good last night in Paris?”

“Yeah I did.” You try to think of anything except what your night actually entailed, you didn’t need to be a blushing mess in front of your Mom, it would give everything away. “Did you?”

“Good, good and yeah I did.” You notice her eyes drift to your neck for a moment and you think she’s about to bust your coverup in front of everyone but instead she hands you her bag and thanks you for helping. You breathe a sigh of relief as it seems she didn’t notice the makeup, knowing she would’ve made a comment about it to you if she had.

You watch Jessie walk out of the hotel, her own bags trailing behind her. Her eyes catch yours and she gives you a smile. It was a simple smile but it had your stomach fluttering. You watch her put her bags away before getting on her assigned bus. You’d only not seen her for a few hours but you were ready to be cuddled up next to her again, you wanted to just lay in bed with her, her skin on yours, your head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat while she ran fingers through your hair and down you back. You wanted to by lying there playing with her hands, your fingers interlacing with hers, gently scratching her palm, drawing circles across her skin.

The ride to the airport was uneventful and before you knew it you were through security and wandering through the terminals to find caffeine that you were desperately in need of. You find a coffee shop and hop in line before opening your phone to make sure you had enough music downloaded for the flight.

“Did I keep you up too late last night and now you need some caffeine?” You don’t even need to turn to see who it is, you know her voice but you turn anyway just to see her smile, her freckles, just her.

“Yeah, something like that.” You turn to look at the menu again. “I also just like coffee.” You say shrugging.

“Hey what’s your seat number?” Jessie clicks on her phone to show you her boarding pass.

“7C, where are you?” You check your own boarding pass before leaning over to read off her phone.

“Damn, 4B.” She says.

“Hey we got lucky on the way here, odds are it wouldn’t happen twice.” The line moves ahead of you and you order yourself a coffee before turning back toward Jessie.

“I’ll get hers as well.” You point to Jessie who squints at you before you gesture for her to move up and order. She orders quickly before quietly thanking you.

The two of you wait for your coffee in silence. You’re not sure why but there’s a tension, a feeling of unease in the silence. Your name gets called and you grab your coffees, handing Jessie hers, before turning to find a seat, Jessie follows. “Do you mind?” She points to the seat next to you.

“Go ahead.”

“I just wanted to talk, I should’ve found you at the hotel before we left, would’ve been more private.” She breathes out as she sits. The way she glances around almost to check if any of her teammates or anyone she knows is around makes you nervous. You feel a pit in your stomach.

“Oh.”

Jessie shakes her head as she swallows her sip of coffee. “It’s nothing bad! I just wanted to see where your head was at as far as what was happening when we’re back.”

Her reassurance puts you at ease but you’re still not quite sure what she means. “Um, well, I’m home for about a week before school starts up again. And then I’ll pretty much be there until winter and I’ll come home for break to see my Mom and then it’s back to school again.”

“I meant as far as us.” Jessie places her hand on top of yours that’s resting on the table before quickly pulling it back when she notices you looking down at your hands.. “Are you planning on seeing other people? Dating around at school? I get if you don’t want to commit to long distance or anything like that after only one date, I just wanted to see where your head was at.”

“I wasn’t planning on seeing other people, I don’t have interest in other people. Were you? Planning to see other people?”

“I also wasn’t planning on it.”

“Cool.” You swirl your coffee in your hand, not sure where to go with this conversation. It had always seemed effortless to talk to Jessie but now you were scared to say the wrong thing.

“Yeah.”

“So does that mean we’re…?” You don’t finish your sentence, you didn’t want to assume you were just seeing each other nothing formal and give Jessie the wrong impression but you also didn’t want to jump to relationship and make her uncomfortable.

“Dating? Yeah I’d say so.” She shrugs and takes another sip of her coffee while looking at you.

“Right but does that mean I get to call you my girlfriend, or are we not there yet?” You watch her facial expression carefully, the mention of girlfriend doesn’t seem to scare her, she blinks a few extra times and she glances off to the side, but she doesn’t look scared.

“You can call me your girlfriend, but only if I get to call you mine.” Jessie’s hand comes up to her face and she rubs her palm along the side, one of her nervous habits.

“So we’re girlfriends.” You state it like it’s a fact you’ve always known despite only deciding you were dating a couple of seconds ago. You can’t help but smile as the official label rolls off your tongue.

“Girlfriends.” Jessie repeats back to you with a smile.

You and Jessie sit until your coffees are finished and then you both make your way back to the waiting area. You let Jessie leave first, the two of you had talked more and agreed to keep the relationship quiet for now. You didn’t want to draw any attention to the two of you by coming back at the same time. The rest of the waiting time goes relatively quick. You sit, playing on your phone, talking, and stealing glances at Jessie who was usually chatting with Janine or Jade. You caught her looking back at you a few times, you’d both quickly look away when you made eye contact only to let your eyes wander back to each other a second later. You’re too busy staring you don’t notice the boarding announcement until you watch Jessie stand up and grab her bag.

You get in line walking down the jet bridge when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Here.” Your Mom is behind you holding her ticket in her outstretched hand.

“What do you want me to hold it?” You offer, taking the ticket from her, figuring she had to adjust her bag or something.

“No, swap seats with me.” Her hand is out waiting for you to give her your ticket. You look down at her ticket. Seat 4A. You look up at her.

“It’s a window seat, I know having the window makes you feel better about flying.” She then winks, you see her eyes trail to your neck again. “And just so you know, you might’ve fooled everyone else, but I’m your mother, your neck doesn't usually have a paler spot right here.” She emphasizes her point by wiping her finger across your neck, then holding her finger up to you, the makeup rubbed slightly off. “But you’re an adult so I wasn’t about to make a scene.”

You turn away from her and pull your hoodie up hiding both the spot on your neck and the embarrassment that was flooding your face. You turn around quickly to thank your Mom before turning back around. The line moves ahead of you and you get onto the plane making your way to your new seat. Your seatmate is already sitting in hers.

“Hi.” You sit down, Jessie’s head whips to the side at the sound of your voice.

“What are you doing?”

“This is my seat.” You hand her your Mom’s ticket. “She traded with me so I could sit by you.”

Jessie pinches her eyebrows together learning how you got the seat. “That’s weirdly nice of her.”

“Yeah I’m not too sure why she did it. Honestly you’re lucky she’s not sitting here, you might not have made it through the flight.”

“Why’s that?” Jessie’s now looking puzzled for another reason.

“She’s my mom, she noticed the makeup immediately. Given that she traded me her seat so I’d be next to you I think she knows you caused it.”

“Whoops.”

You get yourself situated in your seat, getting out your headphones and water bottle before putting your bag away. The plane door closes shortly and you feel familiar nerves begin to grow.

Only this time you don’t have to tell Jessie you’re nervous. She must’ve noticed the way you gripped your water bottle a little tighter and she immediately stuck her hand into your lap. You grab her hand, lacing your fingers with hers feels familiar now, it’s nice, it brings back memories of your date, sitting side by side with her on the pitch.

“It’s okay, it’s going to be fine.” She leans over whispering into your ear. “Think of something else.” You did, the way she was whispering, her lips just an inch from your ear had you reminiscing of your night before and how she had whispered sweet nothings, praises, and also profanities into your ear as your bodies were tangled. You knew that wasn’t necessarily what she meant for you to think of, but it’s what first came to mind. And it helped, it took your mind off of the feeling of taking off.

Just like the last flight it takes Jessie all of an hour to fall asleep, only this time you don’t feel weird looking at her. Looking at her pretty face helps you forget that you were hurling through the air in a metal tube. She only catches you looking at her once. She adjusts from her nap, cracking one eye before telling you off for watching her sleep, all while smiling at you. She moves to put her head on your shoulder and she falls back asleep until you land.

Relieved to be back on the ground you’re thrilled when you pull into the Canada training center and your long travel day is finally coming to and end. Everyone begins to disperse in various directions, some of the players leaving, some wanting to bike or run after sitting on the plane all day, some coming in to unpack, most of the staff walking into the building to drop off equipment.

You make your way to your office and begin decluttering. It’s not long before you’re interrupted.

“Hey.” There’s a knock on your office and you look up to see Jessie’s face.

“Hi.”

“Whatcha doing?” She asks, watching you move around your office.

“Just organizing papers, I have to clear this office out and take everything that’s mine by the end of the week and make it usable for whoever’s next.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“I don’t know, I mean I knew you were going back to school, I just, I don’t like the idea of this becoming someone else’s office.”

“I’m sure they’ll hire someone great.” You were sad to leave but you had to finish your degree if you wanted to ever find yourself having a fulltime job like this. “Did you need something?”

“Just wanted to see you.” She slumps into the chair across from your desk. She waits a moment before speaking again. “And I wanted to see if you wanted to spend the night again?”

You should be excited, here was your brand new girlfriend asking for you to spend the night, in her bed, not just some hotel bed, unfortunately you didn’t feel that excitement. “Oh, I mean, that sounds great, it’s just, I’ve really missed my own bed. I’ve been looking forward to sleeping in it for days now.”

“Right, of course, I forgot you had said that the other day.” Jessie pushes herself out of the chair, you can tell she seems embarrassed by your rejection of her invite.

“Babe, wait.” You accidentally let the pet name slip from your mouth in an attempt to get Jessie to stay. She turns back, she looks surprised and you immediately start to backpedal on your words. “Sorry, is babe okay? I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Babe is,” a smile interrupts Jessie’s sentence, she shakes her head and finishes “babe is good, I like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you want to say something?” She squints at you.

“Oh right, would you want to stay at my place tonight instead? Obviously if you’d rather stay at your own place I get it, we can do a different night.” You offer before you can really even think if your place is clean. Are the sheets clean? Is the clutter picked up? What if you had left it a mess in the chaos of packing? Do you have dirty laundry?

“Okay, I’ll have to stop by my place first, get a few things, just make sure everything’s good there, if you send me your address I can be there whenever you’re ready.”

“Okay.” Jessie turns to head out the door and you turn your attention back to organizing. You still had a good bit of paperwork to go through and stuff to put away but you could come in later this week to do that. Now your main concern was your apartment.

“Clean sheets, clean the bathroom.” You start muttering to yourself creating yourself a to-do list of items you wanted to tidy before Jessie came over. “I should vacuum.” You say as you bend down to put something into a drawer. When you stand up you’re startled to see Jessie back in your office standing on the other side of the desk.

“What are you still doing here? I thought you left.”

She nods at you. “I did, I came back.”

“Why?”

“Just wanted to do this one more time before it becomes someone else’s office.”

She grabs your hand pulling you out from behind your desk and brings you close to her. She drops your hand to move both of her own to your hips and she guides you to step back until you’re against the wall.

It’s as if you’re replaying your first kiss, only this time there’s more to it. It’s not just a tentative kiss with unknowns behind it. Her body is pressed to yours like it was before, only now you know what that feels like without clothes between your bodies. It’s a kiss you’re sharing as girlfriends, as people who have done this before. There’s no longer nerves, there’s butterflies instead. Her fingers caress your hips as your own arms loop around her neck holding her to you. You can feel her hair tickling your cheeks as she leans in. She’s still soft with her lips, they slide against yours and much to your dismay she pulls away too soon. You’re breathing hard when she pulls back, her hands still on your waist and your arms around her neck.

“At least we didn’t get walked in on this time.” She teases. “Okay, now I’m actually leaving, please don’t bother cleaning like crazy, I’d rather come over sooner than wait for you to make your place spotless. I know you just got back from a trip, it’s fine if it’s not clean.” Her hands fall from your body and she turns, you drop your own arms down to your sides.

“Alright, but maybe just a little cleaning.” You hold up your index finger and thumb making a pinching gesture.

Jessie just rolls her eyes and walks to the door before stopping herself at the door frame. “I’ll see you in a bit,” she hesitates for a split second before adding. “baby.”

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt x reader #jessie fleming blurb

277 notes · View notes

xoxodeardiary · 29 days ago

Text

3.46k words

A seemingly disappointing birthday turns into a little getaway for Maryn after she wins miss world and who better to spend it with than Aaron. Masterlist

This contains mentions depictions of staying at a poor mental health facility and nothing else to heavy, I want to speed up Maryn and Mabel’s journey to really get to Aaron and Maryns love story… so bear with me please.

Timeline Maryns met Aaron at the gala in Feb, it’s now May. This chapter takes place over the weekend. The dinner is Sat and the kiss happens on sun.

ꨄ

Here I was, once again, on the stage that started it all. Well, not the exact same stage, but the sash around me felt just as heavy, the fabric the same. Only the words were different now. The girls standing beside me were new faces, but their whispers and side glances—their shit-talking—felt eerily familiar. The lights burned as hot as I remembered, searing into my skin like they were part of the ritual. I was such an idiot for thinking it would ever be over. In the pageant world, you can’t just win and stop.

You start with the baby contests, then you move to junior competitions, and eventually, you make it to the big leagues. Beautiful girls from every corner of life—nepo babies with their air of entitlement, and girls who, like me, clawed their way up from nothing. Some girls used pills to coke, tapeworms to anorexia, anything to stay on top. To win Modeling contracts, movie roles, music deals—whatever the prize, you gave up pieces of yourself to get it.

I’d jumped through every hoop. I’d sashayed and smiled before the judges, even Marlon Beck. He was all too eager to forgive my past "mistakes" and save my ass with Mabel, of course—for a price. Nothing in this world comes without a price. And the more you want, the stranger the currency.

Back to where the sterile air reeked of bleach, All the monotone voices with their passive smiles—smiles faker than mine.

“I just want to help you,” the counselor would say, her words syrupy with insincerity. “They’re worried about you.”

Lies. Every word ignited something deep inside me, but I swallowed the flames, knowing that speaking out would only make it worse. Her notepad, its yellow pages already scrawled with lies, sat perched in her lap like a loaded weapon. The scratching sound of the rubber pen with a dull tip as I signed my name. Over and over bored out of my mind.

Then there was the medicine—the taunting voices it silenced in my head were replaced by a heavier, darker fog. The pills weighed on my brain, turning it into thick, heavy soil where no clarity could grow.

I’d give anything to never go back to that place.

“You have less than a minute to answer, Ms. United States of America. The question is: Is this your dream?” The pretty woman read from the prompter, glancing at the countdown timer projected on the wall.

No. Hell no. This was nothing like it should’ve been the farthest thing from what I deserved, what I had earned. That was what I wanted to say, but my game face held steady. I smiled with practiced poise and delivered the winning answer, the words flowing like honey, sweet and insincere.

The applause roared around me as I walked back to my place, standing beside Ms. Canada. My hands clutched the folds of my gown, my heart pounding beneath my chest. This wasn’t my dream. But on this stage, under these lights, it had to be.

The real beating came backstage. Everyone else may have been satisfied with my performance, but Mabel wouldn’t be. I could feel it in the air, her eyes on me, like she was waiting for me to slip up. Ricardo had saved my ass those few weeks ago, but I knew it couldn’t be him again. It was either me or him, and I couldn’t keep being selfish. It hurt, but I couldn’t let him suffer for me.

Ricky had been Mabel’s godson since he was born. His family had money, so did Mabel. They were close, grew up together, and when Ricky’s mother, Honey, caught his eye, I could see the anger in Mabel. Honey had something she’d wanted for decades, but she settled and played her role.

When Ricky was born, Mabel was his emergency contact, and after James and Honey died, it was all hers—Ricky and the money. Everything went into her hands, including the memories. She could’ve kept the photos, the videos, the moments of a life she didn’t care about, but she burned them. What remained was just the money, and she held it like a prize. That’s all she cared about, that’s all she ever would.

I could feel my body start to betray me. I hadn’t eaten all day, and the emptiness in my stomach was becoming a black hole. My vision blurred, spinning, as I stumbled backstage, dizziness taking over. The world felt too heavy.

"Ricky, where is my lancet? I think I need sugar," I murmured, barely able to catch my breath.

"Where did you pack it?" Ricky’s voice, frantic, cut through the haze, searching for it.

I felt my body slump. “I—. She didn’t pack it. I did.” Mabel said cutting me off standing against the door like a lion about to pounce. “Just like I do everything around here. And for that fat, ditzy bitch to embarrass me like that, and then stuff herself with sweets. Ha. No. I don’t think so."

Mabel sneered and shoved it into her pocket. She didn’t even care that I could go into shock. I had diabetes since I was 15 years old.

I leaned back into the couch, my head swimming, when she grabbed my face with sharp, cold hands. Her nails dug into my skin, her fingers like vices. She twisted, pushing in my jaw, and I could feel the scrape of her nails along my neck. It hurt. It hurt more than I could handle, but I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t give her the satisfaction. Not now.

I hissed, trying to blink the pain away, but the tears formed, and I could feel them threatening to fall. The last thing I needed was to cry. I needed to be strong, even though the strength was slipping away with each second.

“You have the audacity to cry when you’re the one who slapped me in the face?” Mabel spat, her voice like acid. She jerked my head roughly to the right, tilting it painfully, forcing me to look at her. My chest tightened. The cold, judgmental light above us made everything feel so sterile, so clinical. Like I wasn’t a person, just something to punish.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammered, my voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to... really... the medicine....” I swallowed hard, hoping my words would make sense, hoping they would lessen the wrath that was building inside her.

She cut me off with a sharp, cruel laugh. “No. It didn’t.”

I froze. The small, weak part of me that had hoped for some kind of mercy, some kind of understanding, crumbled. I whimpered like a child being told no for the first time, and all I could do was stare at her, helpless.

She stormed out, slamming the door behind her, leaving me there on the couch, heart pounding, chest tight with fear. Alone.

“Ssh, it’s okay. Here,” Ricky’s voice was a lifeline, soft and calming. I didn’t deserve it, but he was there, kneeling beside me, pulling a ziplock bag of my favorite candies from his pocket. I didn’t feel like I could move. I felt paralyzed, the weight of everything pressing down on me. Every part of me just wanted to escape. I didn’t want to feel anymore.

Ricky fed me a piece of candy, his hand gentle, guiding it to my lips. I let myself take it, even though I didn’t want to. His actions felt like the only thing keeping me tethered to reality, even though part of me wished I could just let go.

The weariness washed over me, pulling at my limbs like I was being swallowed whole. My head rested back, and the harsh, cold air stung my skin for a second before Ricky put his hoodie around me, the warmth of it wrapping me in a fleeting comfort.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his thick Dominican accent brushing against my ears.

“It’s okay” was all I could say before sleep took over, drowning everything else out.

But as I drifted off, my thoughts spiraled. What was I doing? How had it come to this? I had no control, not anymore. Mabel had me trapped in a cage of her making, and all I could do was survive it. I wasn’t strong enough for anything else, and maybe not even that.

Eventually, I got up, the sun outside dimming as it faded into a golden-orange hue, casting long shadows across the room. I sat on my pink silk sheets, my eyes trailing aimlessly around my space. There was a heaviness in my chest I couldn’t shake, but I pushed it aside. Despite everything, I couldn’t deny the small spark of satisfaction I felt in the plumpness of my lips and the way my lashes framed my eyes. Little things, but they made me feel... okay. Maybe even pretty.

I stretched my arms toward the ceiling, letting out a yawn that ended in a deep sigh. There was no avoiding it—I had a job to do tonight. My task was simple enough: look my prettiest and flatter Marlon Beck until his ego inflated like a balloon. The thought made me cringe, but I couldn’t afford not to.

The warm embrace of a hot bath called to me, and I answered, stepping into the steamy water I’d filled with Epsom salts and a frothy bubble bath. The lavender scent wrapped itself around me as I lowered into the tub, letting the heat ease the tension in my body. My head rested against the cool porcelain edge of the clawfoot tub, my eyes fluttering closed.

For a brief moment, I allowed myself to exist.

Birthdays used to mean something. Now, for the last five years, they’d been nothing but a source of sadness—a reminder of what I’d lost. The edges of those dark thoughts crept in, like unwelcome guests at the door of my mind, threatening to pull me under. But no. Not this time. I was tired of being sad.

And then I heard it: a small, familiar voice, soft at first but growing louder.

“Whose birthday is it?” Mama asked, her tone warm and full of love.

The memory unfolded like a movie reel. I saw myself as a little girl, standing beside her. My store-bought Princess Tiana dress had deep creases from being folded too long in its plastic bag, but I didn’t care. The matching plastic heels clicked and clacked as I jumped up and down, the plastic strap with Tiana’s smiling face barely keeping my feet in place.

“It’s my birthday, Mama!” little me chirped, her voice high-pitched and brimming with excitement.

“And how old are you?” she asked, her smile so wide it could’ve lit up the room.

The kitchen had been transformed. The cluttered counters and table had been replaced by a large white folding table, its front draped with a “Happy Birthday” banner that sagged slightly in the middle, with presents littered everywhere.

“I’m 10!” I exclaimed, my grin nearly splitting my face.

“Ten years old,” Mama said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s all sing happy birthday!”

The memory swelled. My older cousin walked in carrying a cake, and the smile on my face grew impossibly wider. They set the cake down on the table, and the familiar birthday tune began.

“How old are you?” they sang, their voices overlapping.

“10!” I shouted, my voice bursting with pride.

“How old are you?” they repeated, louder this time.

“10!” I screamed again, puffing my chest out like it made me bigger.

The song ended, and I leaned over to blow out the candles. The sound of cheers and laughter filled the air as the candles went out, replaced by the smell of melting wax and sweet frosting.

The memory faded, leaving me sitting in the tub with a bittersweet ache in my chest. That little girl—the one jumping up and down, her plastic heels clicking, her heart full of pure, untainted joy—I was so jealous of her. I wanted to be her again. I wanted to feel that kind of happiness again.

Maybe... maybe that started with a choice. A choice to fight.

I sat up, the water rippling around me as I scrubbed myself clean. When I was done, I dried off and coated myself in lotion and perfume, determined to put the memory to good use.

The familiar sound of knobs turning and a door clicking open pulled me from my thoughts. I sat at my vanity, wrapped in a soft robe, my cluttered makeup station lit by the warm glow of the bulbs around the mirror. I scrolled through my phone, searching for outfit inspiration.

“Maria, are you decent?” Ricky’s voice called out my middle name from the hallway. He pushed the door open a crack, his hand covering his eyes.

“Why’d you come in if you thought I wasn’t dressed, perv?” I teased, a small smirk tugging at my lips.

Ricky rolled his eyes, clicking his teeth. “Happy 25th birthday!” he said, stepping inside with a pink gift box in one hand and a small cake in the other. He pulled a tiny confetti popper from his pocket and let it off with a grin.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of me as I rushed to hug him. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice softer than I intended.

“Come here,” he said, beckoning me over to the bed. He placed the pink box in front of me and opened it to reveal a heart-shaped mini cake.

“Your favorite,” he said proudly. “Red velvet. And I made sure to tell them you like it dense.”

He began singing “Happy Birthday,” his deep voice filling the room. When the song ended, he sat beside me, waiting expectantly.

“Aren’t you going to eat your cake?” he asked. “It’s your favorite.”

I hesitated, glancing at the cake before shaking my head. “I can’t,” I said, standing to adjust my robe. “I’ll get bigger.”

Ricky frowned. “Maria, you’re barely a hundred pounds soaking wet. A slice of cake isn’t going to change that.” He picked up the knife and cut a piece, holding it out to me. “Forget what Mabel says. It’s your day, and she won’t even be back for another two weeks.”

I crossed my arms. “But she left prepped meals. She’s going to know if I don’t eat them. She’ll notice if I gain weight.”

Ricky’s jaw tightened. “Let me deal with Mabel,” he said, his tone firm. “She doesn’t need to know everything.”

“She always finds out,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “She told me I’d be nothing more than an addict. Do you think she’s right?”

Ricky crouched in front of me, his eyes searching mine for an answer. “No. Of course not. You’ve been sober for six months, Ricky. You’re doing amazing.”

“She doesn’t have power over me anymore,” he continued. “She only did because of the drugs. But I’m free now. I found my brother, and he has pictures, videos—proof of everything. I’m going to settle this. She won’t be able to hurt us anymore.”

He kissed my forehead, lingering for just a moment, before walking out.

Could I finally be free?

The restaurant was cloaked in an air of quiet sophistication, the kind of place where the conversations were low, the laughter subdued, and the clink of cutlery against fine china almost hypnotic. The ambiance was steeped in luxury, the dark wooden walls polished to a gleam, their antique charm complemented by ornate golden inlays. Everything here seemed timeless, as if the room itself was frozen in a moment meant to impress.

I sat a few feet away from the balcony’s intricate wrought-iron banister, the design curling like ivy vines, each detail catching the faint light of the crystal chandelier hanging above. The chandelier was massive, the kind of centerpiece that drew your eye even when you didn’t want to look. Its crystals refracted soft greens and yellows, casting an ethereal glow over the glass shelving lining the walls. The shelves were filled with gleaming bottles that sparkled like jewels, their liquid contents shimmering in the chandelier’s light.

My chair was a deep maroon, upholstered in velvet so soft it felt like sinking into a cloud. Golden details were woven into the armrests and back, their intricate patterns catching the light with every slight shift. I tried to let the elegance of my surroundings distract me, to lose myself in the hushed murmur of conversations coming from the floor below. There, couples and groups sat in matching maroon chairs at circular tables draped in crisp white tablecloths. The flicker of candlelight played across their faces as they laughed and sipped wine, their plates piled with food that looked almost too beautiful to eat.

But none of it could keep my mind from wandering. I checked my watch again, the time staring back at me like a cruel joke. Marlon was an hour late. An hour. The realization settled heavily in my chest, making my heart ache in that dull, familiar way.

He had forced me into this date, had insisted with that charming, condescending smile of his that I clear my schedule. And now he had the audacity—the gaul—to stand me up.

The soft hum of the restaurant couldn’t drown out my spiraling thoughts. My gaze drifted to the empty seat across from me, its maroon upholstery mocking me. A lump formed in my throat, hot and humiliating.

If even Marlon Beck—someone who’d sleep with just about anyone—didn’t want me, what did that say about me?

The question clung to me like a wet cloak, its weight dragging me further into the darkness. It wasn’t just about this date or him not showing up; it was about everything. Every rejection, every misstep, every time I had felt like I wasn’t enough. The restaurant seemed to grow quieter, the glow of the chandelier dimming in my mind as my thoughts consumed me.

I was sinking into that familiar pit when a soft voice broke through.

“Ma’am, could I get you anything?”

The waitress’s voice startled me, pulling me back to the present. I blinked up at her, her kind eyes framed by dark lashes, her expression gentle but professional.

I straightened in my chair, trying to shake the heaviness off me, if only for a moment. “Um…” I hesitated, my thoughts catching up to my surroundings. My mind flitted back to the menu I had studied earlier.

“I’ll have the six-ounce filet mignon, medium rare, with the white veggie rice,” I finally said, my voice steadier than I expected.

She nodded, her smile softening the edges of my embarrassment as she leaned forward to pour water into my glass.

As she walked away, I sank back into the maroon chair, the plush velvet cradling me. I looked down at my watch again, though I already knew what it would say. Marlon wasn’t coming.

The flickering light of the chandelier caught my eye again, the greens and yellows reflecting faintly on the golden inlays of the banister. Somewhere below, a burst of laughter erupted from one of the tables, sharp and bright. It made me smile.

I reached for my water glass and took a slow sip, letting the cool liquid slide down my throat. My thoughts felt heavier now, like stones stacking one on top of the other. Still, a small part of me wanted to believe this didn’t mean anything. That it wasn’t about me. But that part was small, and tonight, it felt impossibly far away.

The restaurant’s quiet hum wrapped around me, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside my chest. I kept my gaze fixed on the chandelier above, the delicate greens and yellows refracting off the crystal, as if willing the sight to distract me from the empty seat across the table. But it didn’t. I traced my finger along the edge of the white tablecloth, a nervous habit that felt more pathetic with each passing second.

Marlon wasn’t coming.

I let out a soft sigh, trying to push the hurt down. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. If I let myself wallow, I’d only fall deeper into that pit I’d been clawing my way out of for years. Instead, I reached for my water, taking another sip as I focused on the faint ripple in the glass.

And then, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye.

A tall figure stepped into the dining area, scanning the tables. His warm brown eyes landed on me, and his face broke into a relieved smile. Aaron.

“Aaron?” I said aloud before I could stop myself, my voice tinged with surprise.

“Hey, Maryn,” he greeted, his tone soft and unassuming as always. He hesitated for a moment, his hand gripping the back of the chair across from me. “Is this seat taken?”

I blinked, glancing at the empty chair Marlon was supposed to fill.

A pang of disappointment surged through me, but I pushed it aside. “No, go ahead,” I said, offering him a small smile.

Aaron sat down, his movements careful, as if he didn’t want to disturb the fragile air around us. He adjusted his jacket and looked at me with a sheepish grin. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

“Same,” I replied, watching him closely. Aaron had always been... different. Steady. Kind in a way that didn’t demand attention but lingered in the little things he did.

“I, uh, saw you sitting here alone,” he continued, his voice dipping lower, “and I thought maybe you could use some company. If that’s okay?”

I hesitated for a fraction of a second, my mind briefly flickering back to Marlon and the sting of rejection. But then I looked at Aaron’s earnest face, and something in me softened. “Of course it’s okay,” I said, my smile growing a little wider.

The waitress returned just then, her eyes flicking between the two of us before settling on me. “Would you like me to add anything to your order?”

Aaron looked at me questioningly, but I waved him off. “I already ordered. But Aaron, you should get something.”

He glanced at the menu, quickly scanning it before nodding. “I’ll have the vodka pasta please,” he said before handing the menu back to the waitress.

As she walked away, Aaron turned his attention fully to me. “So, what brings you here tonight? Fancy dinner for one?”

His teasing tone was gentle, but it still made my cheeks warm. I shrugged, “It was supposed to be something like a date I guess but it’s also my birthday.” I said

His eyes lit up and he gave me a toothy grin raising his eyebrows. “ May 29th you’re a fellow Gemini!” He pointed out making me scrunch my face playfully.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re one of those people.” I said with a blissful laugh.

“No- no I’m not that into it like those people who blame everything on mercury.” He belled laughing with me. The night went on a turned into an amazing evening.

Somehow we ended up on the streets of the city having a great time walking on the dark empty beach, talking, having non stop smiles of pure joy on our faces.

“How do you think people will react to this.” His accent flushing my moonlit skin.

“I don’t care I having fun!” I said I haven’t felt this good in a very long time. “I love them but forget the people who’ll care. It’s weird because I’m a public figure and all but people are just way too invested.” I drew out the brandy I had clearly speaking in innards.

“Yeah we need to get you some water.” He said making me burst into laughter I looked to my left where we were sitting in the sand.

His eyes even prettier in the dark this glistening skin smelling thick and rich. He sat next to me in a dark button up and dark slacks the sleeves rolled up showcasing the lion tattoo on his forearm. I could already tell he knew what I was laughing at.

“Can I? please.” I begged as he rolled his eyes at me before nodding his head.

“Wha-uh!” I exaggerated going into another fit of laughter.

“Alright Ms.Queen let’s get you home.”

I woke to the faint aroma of coffee and the soft hum of a bird outside the window. For a moment, I wasn’t sure where I was. The ceiling above me wasn’t mine, nor was the slightly lumpy cushion beneath my head. My jacket was balled up beneath me, stiff and uncomfortable. Then it hit me. Maryn’s place. Turning over to my left reaching out for Maryn only to feel the coldness of where I layed her down.

I opened my eyes fully, squinting against the pale morning light that filtered through the curtains. The faint clatter of dishes came from the kitchen, followed by the sound of water running. I didn’t need to see her to know it was her.

Maryn had a presence that lingered, even when she wasn’t in the room.

Turning my head over to the left to see the toiletries shed layed out for me. As well as a t-shit and some basketball shorts.

I hadn’t planned on staying over but after dinner. I just couldn’t bring myself to leave.

Maryn intrigued me in ways I couldn’t quite explain. She had this strength about her, a quiet defiance that masked something softer underneath. She had a lively spirt I could feel.

I saw it in the way she brushed off the sting of the date that didn’t show, pretending it didn’t bother her when I knew it did. And I saw it now, in the way she moved through her space with purpose.

I glanced around again, taking in the details I’d missed last night the colors, little trinkets and cozy blankets she has sprawled in her home and on various things.

The sound of her voice startled me.

"Good morning," she said, poking her head around the corner. Her hair was tousled, and there was a smudge of flour on her cheek. She must’ve been baking something.

"Morning," I replied, my voice raspier than I expected. I cleared my throat and offered a smile. "You’re up early."

She shrugged, leaning against the doorway with a mug in her hands. "Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d make some tea. Want some?"

"Let’s see if an American can impress me with tea," I said, standing and stretching. Her lips curved into a smirk. "It’s an earl gray I put honey in mine." She said in a decent British accent.

I laughed, following her into the kitchen. The space was small but cozy, with mismatched mugs hanging from hooks and a calendar on the wall, each day marked with tiny scribbles.

She handed me a mug, and I took a sip, the warmth spreading through me. "All right, I’ll give it to you," I admitted. " at least one American knows how to make tea."

Her grin widened, and for a moment, All I could think about was how effortlessly beautiful she looked, standing there in her little kitchen, as if she belonged in a storybook. Her hair big and coily in a quick bun in a cropped large t-shirt and some plaid boys boxers.

I watched her move around, tidying up and humming softly under her breath. There was something grounding about being here with her, something I couldn’t quite put into words.

“Do you eat sausage?” She asked me turning around back to the stove.

“I do darling.” I tried my chances with a nickname as not looking out from her pots but I could tell she was smiling as she said “darling is that just a British thing or are you trying to flirt?” She said in her sweet southern accent

“This is some cheese grits, a biscuit, eggs, sausage, and some chocolate chip pancakes.” She briefed.

“This is a scone.” I said looking at the biscuit.

“No it a delicious biscuit, you wish you had these in London.” She said eyes sparking as she waited for me to take a bite.

As soon as I went to taste it she yelled “wait! Try it all together like make it a sandwich everything but the grits.” She said showing me hers. Doing as she said making my sandwich I dug in and relished in the flavor.

“I know thank you.” She cockily said

The sun was higher now, casting long shadows across Maryn’s living room. I stood by the window, coffee in hand, staring out at the lazy streets of the city. For a moment, I let myself forget that I wasn’t in London anymore. I wasn’t in some quiet corner of the world—no, I was in the whirlwind of Maryn’s life. The world outside wasn’t just any street; it was lined with the ever-present hum of fame, of cameras and eyes that would be watching her every move.

I turned, looking at the glossy kitchen island, the still-warm plates, and remnants of our breakfast. The intimacy of it all felt surreal, almost too normal for two people like us—celebrities who lived their lives under constant scrutiny.

“Hey,” Maryn’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I turned to find her leaning against the doorframe, wearing a comfortable oversized sweater and leggings. She had that soft glow that came from the sun casting on her brown eyes.

Is this how people feel about my eyes?

“Hey,” I replied, giving her a soft smile.

She took a breath, then pushed herself off the doorframe. “Wanna share favorite movies?” She asked me walking over to the couch.

“Yeah I need to show you some real classics.” I told her throwing her head back she let out a laugh before turning to me.

“Yea, okay we’ll see about that.” She said in another accent.

“This one is The color purple and it’s my favorite movie of all time.” She said as she flicked through Hulu putting the movie on.

The movie flickered softly on the screen, its warm glow casting fleeting shadows across the room. Maryn’s knees were tucked under her, the oversized hoodie slipping slightly off her shoulder, revealing soft skin that caught the light in a way that felt almost hypnotic. She smelt like vanilla in an intoxicating way.

I leaned back into the couch, pretending to watch the movie, but my focus kept drifting to her. The way her fingers curled to match Celies “Until you do right by me everything you do will crumble.” She said in sync.

My gaze lingering longer than I meant to. There was something about the way she tilted her head slightly, her everything enticing, making my chest tighten. She must have felt it because she shifted slightly, her movements slow, deliberate.

She turned her head, catching me in the act. Her eyes met mine. For a moment, neither of us said anything. The movie played on, but its sound faded to a distant murmur. It was just her, her eyes searching mine, as though she was trying to figure out what I was thinking, and I didn’t have the words to explain it.

Her lips parted, not to speak but as if she wanted to ask a question she wasn’t sure she should. My heart pounded, the air between us suddenly feeling heavier. She didn’t look away, and neither did I.

Her fingers, which had been idly tracing the blanket, stilled, her hand now just resting there—close but not close enough. Slowly, carefully, I reached out, my fingers brushing against hers. Her skin was soft, warm, and when she didn’t pull away, I let my hand settle over hers.

She didn’t look down at our hands, though. Her focus stayed on me, her eyes wide, I could feel her breath hitch softly, her chest rising and falling in time with mine,I was itching to having her in my hands. Skin to skin, bare with us.

I leaned forward, closing the distance an inch at a time. I could feel her hesitation, not in fear but in wonder, as though she was trying to decide if this was real. Her eyes flickered to my lips, then back to my eyes, and that was all I needed.

When my lips met hers, it was soft, tentative, as though we both wanted to take our time, to let this moment unfold naturally. Her lips moved against mine, slow and searching, and my heart thundered in my chest. Her hand turned under mine, her fingers lacing with mine as she leaned into the kiss, her weight shifting closer, her presence enveloping me.

Time disappeared. The movie became a distant hum, the world around us fading into a blur of muted light and the warmth of her touch. When we broke apart, her breath mingled with mine, the tip of her nose brushing against me as neither of us moved far. Her eyes opened, meeting mine again, and there was something raw and vulnerable in her gaze—something that made my chest tighten all over again.

Feeling the kiss still on my lips, I needed more. Ours heads buoying for a moment, leaning and her soft lips on mine. Breaking apart catching our breath.

“Do you want this?” I asked her my eyes etched on hers.

#dreamy💤wrote this #aaron pierre x reader #maryn and aaron #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre fanfic #aaron pierre x black!oc #aaron pierre #lights off fic

89 notes · View notes

blue-aconite · 12 days ago

Note

"Would you please just kiss me?" With Jake Seresin!

I would apologise for not posting sooner but we all know how life gets. Without further explanation, here's your blurb ♥️ Thanks @a-reader-and-a-writer for looking this over!

Blurb Night Masterlist

It’s been over half an hour since she left the Hard Deck, wandering out onto the beach and walking along the shore. She hadn’t gone far, close enough that the light coming out of the windows was still visible but far enough that she could no longer hear the people out on the patio.

The sun disappeared some moments ago and the moon is taking its place, casting a cold grey light over the sand.

“What are you doing out here?”

She keeps her eyes on the waves, tracing the overlaps and motions, even as she answers him. “Thinking.”

She’s hoping the short answer will be enough, that he’ll go back inside and leave her alone but fate has other plans. She should have known it wouldn’t be enough. Like a dog with a bone, Hangman wasn’t the one to let things go.

Her hope is further crushed when he comes closer, taking a seat in the sand next to her. He’s close enough so that she can feel the heat emitting from his body, his cologne invading her senses. Not in an unpleasant or unwelcome way, just in a way she hadn’t expected.

“You know, there’s a party going on inside, yet you’re out here alone, thinking.” Hangman says, leaning back onto his elbows and stretching his legs out. She doesn’t look away from the water but his movements can be seen in the corner of her eye.

“Which is exactly why I’m here. Too loud to think in there. Out here though? It’s quiet, simple.” She murmurs, drawing her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She can feel his eyes on her, watching her. “What do you want?”

Hangman takes a moment to answer, as if he has to decide what to say. “I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m good, thanks.” She’d rather lie than tell him what’s really bothering her. There’s no reason for him to know. He wouldn’t even understand.

Unfortunately, Hangman sees right through her. “Could have fooled me.”

He pulls himself upright, matching her position. It’s odd seeing him look so vulnerable, smaller than he usually presents himself to be.

When she doesn’t reply, he hesitantly continues, as if he’s afraid she’s going to run off if he pushes too far. “You can talk to me, you know. If something’s bothering you. You’d probably prefer Phoenix or Bob but I don’t see them running out here to check on you.”

She rolls her eyes at the last bit. Even when he’s trying to comfort her, he can’t help but take a shot at their teammates. It’s all in good nature nowadays, but it’s so predictably Hangman that it makes her smile. His concern is touching but she still keeps her guard up.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she pauses slightly before adding, “but thank you.”

Hangman shifts, turning his body sideways so he is closer than before. “I think there is something to talk about, you just don’t want to.”

If getting on her nerves is his mission, he’s succeeding at an alarming rate. Gone is the gratefulness at his earlier offer. “And pray tell, Hangman, what would that be, hm?” She spits out, unsuccessful in keeping the annoyance out of her voice. She knows it isn’t fair to react this way, not when he’s been nothing but kind to her but anything to steer him away from the conversation she doesn’t want to happen.

Hangman holds his hands up, as if to placate her. “Maybe the fact that you’ve been avoiding me ever since Payback’s birthday? The fact that whenever we’re off base, you slink away to sit somewhere by yourself? Or maybe we should talk about how we kissed and you refuse to talk about it?”

Fuck.

The last part of his rant makes her tear her gaze from the water, swirling around in the sand to face him. They end up close, too close, but neither moves. “You remember that?”

It’s a weak response, she knows that but it’s the only thing she can come up with.

The look in his eyes portrays disbelief. “Of course I remember. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you were drunk? And you didn’t talk to me for the whole day afterwards, so I figured it was just something.. -”

“I didn’t talk to you because when I woke up, you were gone. I wasn’t going to hunt you down over something you clearly regretted but I still think we should talk about it.”

She knows they need to address the whole situation but as he speaks, she can only focus on one thing. “You think I regret it?”

Now he’s the one refusing to meet her eyes. “What was I supposed to think? Like I said, you’ve been avoiding me ever since, so I figured you were just trying to let me down easy without having to say something, which is a shitty move by the way, even for you -”

“Let you down easy?” She’s full of bewilderment at this point and while she knows what he’s insinuating, she can’t make herself believe it. There is no possibility, she’d been telling herself for months.

“Oh, spare me. You can’t honestly make me believe you don’t know. I think I’ve been very clear about my feelings for you.” Jake declares, a distinct look in his eyes as he straightens up. But the vulnerability on his face betrays his emotions, even if his voice stays strong.

She feels like she’s falling, a wide black abyss consuming her entire being. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d find herself in the situation. “You have feelings for me?”

She’s well aware that she should probably try to unearth more but she’s still not entirely sure she isn’t hallucinating. This can’t possibly be happening.

Jake laughs incredulity. “Are you telling me you actually don’t know?”

“Well, you never said anything!” She implores.

“I didn’t think I had to! It's pretty obvious.” He responds, shrugging his shoulders like he didn’t just drop a major bomb on her.

She throws her arms out, almost whacking him in the face. “OBVIOUS? How about you use your words instead of just thinking I can read your mind? I had no idea!”

“Why would I kiss you, if I didn’t like you?”

She stares at him blankly, at a loss for words. Everything she had wanted since her stupid crush had manifested itself was happening but for some reason, she couldn’t respond in the proper way. How many times had she wished he would reprecipitate the feelings she had developed for him during their time together? How much had she beaten herself up over kissing him back at Payback’s birthday almost a month ago, knowing that he didn’t feel the same, knowing it was the alcohol?

She’s vaguely aware that he’s speaking again but her mind is racing, as is her heart, and she blurts out the only thing she’s thinking about. “Would you please just kiss me? Again?”

#fe writes #fe's blurb night #blurb night #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #fe loves abby

97 notes · View notes

admirationandromantics · 2 months ago

Text

Going overboard, Epilogue

(He looks so fine, I can't handle it. Can handle him though, just like you're about to do). Anyways, this is the final end of this story. This has been such a great experience, and I've loved writing it. I know many are waiting for the next one (which will be with Chris), but please give me some time to get started on that. Right now, I have a bunch of requests to take care of, which I will also be doing while posting the next story.

Again, thank you all for the encouragement and support throughout this, and don't worry. Josh is NOT gone, you can request as much as you want. Anyways, as always, my blog is 18+ and so is this post (hint hint) so just enjoy! <3

Luckily, I got to know that both Matt and Jessica survived. Mike was so happy when they told us. Jess looked like a wreak though, I’ve never seen her like that, physically or mentally. She told us that she didn’t think she’d survive if it weren’t for Matt. I’ve never seen gratitude like what I saw on Mike’s face that day. He went straight for Matt, pulling him into a hug, leaving him stunned.

The police were quick to separate all of us, getting each one’s story. I told the truth, everything there was to say, but I don’t think they believed me. It hurt telling them about Josh. I feared that he’d serve time, that he would stay behind bars for a long time. They decided that there would be no trial, considering his mental state. I heard his laughter from the other room, crying by myself as I wondered what he would remember, and if the traumas we went through would be the drop that spilled the glass. They decided he was a danger to others and himself, and it didn’t take long to get him to a clinic and try some new medication. Again, after another traumatic trip to that damn mountain, I didn’t keep in touch with him. They didn’t let him use his phone, and the only people allowed to see him were his parents. After four months, they let Chris visit, but it had been a long time since I saw them, so I don’t think that letting me visit was even an option.

The friend group split. I don’t know what happened with Emily and Matt, last I heard, they were still together, but that was a while ago. Jess and Mike broke up after a while. I heard it was bad, and Jessica was the one who made the cut. Sam still talked to him, so I got some info here and there, but he is not the sort of man I really wish to be in contact with.

I still talk to Sam, and we continue our daily coffees, only now, we talk about the last events that happened on that cursed place. She seems like she’s falling down some rabbit hole about mythological creatures and folklore. I’ve told her that we should forget everything, that maybe talking to a therapist could be good for her. She doesn’t listen, and I’m just trying to keep her present, afraid that she’ll end up as Josh. Isolated, and supervised continuously.

I’m often invited over for gaming nights with Chris and Ashley. The games vary, but it doesn’t always feel as welcoming as thought. I often feel like an intruder, like they would feel bad by hanging out together without me. I tried to talk to Ashley about it, but she assured me that they love me, and us being together is a good way to deal with everything. I still feel like a third wheel, sitting in the corner while they have flirty interactions or Chris steals a kiss. Still, they both feel bad for me, that much I’m sure of. One of the good things that come out of it is that Chris tells me about his visits. In the start, Josh had been confused and scared, pleading with him to get him out of there. Now, six months later, he was better, the medicine finally working and pieces falling back into place. He’s bored out of his mind, joking that if they didn’t give him at least a console, he would kill himself. Chris laughed when he said that, but my breath hitched and I suddenly felt unsure. Ashley noticed, walking over to me and telling me that Josh joking like this just meant that he felt better. They’d gotten used to my cries. I was never this bad before, but even though I didn’t have a reason, it still came out. Every day, several times. I had to lock myself in the bathroom or my bedroom to relieve myself.

***

I cut the tomato in thin slices, arranging them in fine lines on the buttered toast. A knock is heard on the door. “Just walk in Sam, it’s open” I shout, knowing when she usually comes over on her morning run. I hear the door open, footsteps out of the hallway. I grab the salt, carefully shaking it over the tomato to not get too much. Two hands make their way around my waist, pulling me into a tight body. I stop breathing as I know that this is not Sam, this is a man’s body. I look down, hands looking awfully familiar.

“Hey” he whispers against my ear, and I feel tears coating my eyes. I turn around, looking at a smiling Josh.

“Hey” I answer, not able to hide the surprise in my voice. My hands travel behind his neck, locking him in place. His dark circles aren’t as bad anymore, and he does look quite healthy. I still don’t know what to say, shocked by his sudden presence. He smirks, tilting his head and looking at me with sceptical eyes.

“Well, isn’t this a first time for you not knowing what to say”

“I-I”

“We’re getting there…”

“Hey, you bombarded me wi-” I’m interrupted by a kiss, his head moving in sync with mine, hunger, lust and eight months without contact pooling out as a stress-relief. He grabs me harder, taking hold of my thighs and lifting me up on the counter. God, I’ve missed him. My legs cross behind him, pulling him deeper into me. His lips are soft and warm, connecting with mine as I open my mouth a bit, letting him in deeper. I whine, feeling the tears fall from the corners of my eyes. His hands move to cup my face, thumbs brushing away the wetness.

“We should probably talk” I say between sobs.

“That’s why I came over” he answers, pulling away a bit. I waste no time, taking his arm and forcing him back, his lips on mine while I sob. His sisters, the prank, the wendigos, everything poured into me slowly coming out.

“Sorry” I whisper. “You’ve just come out, this isn’t what you need right now” I squeak, trying to compose myself.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m not leaving again”

This makes me break down even harder, being reminded that every time we rekindle, something gets in the way. He lays my head on his flannel-coated shoulder, letting me cry till I can’t breathe anymore. He holds me up, making sure that I don’t fall off the counter while leaving sweet small kisses on my forehead. When the air is finally quiet, he pulls away, thumbs rubbing my cheeks. I feel the mascara being smudged, though that’s more my fault than his.

“God, I’d already gotten ready today, and now I guess I have to do it again” I laugh, trying to look a little presentable.

“You’re beautiful” he whispers, awe in his eyes. I stop the tears and kiss him yet again.

After a while, we make our way to the sofa, determined to talk about this now, to get it over with. I walk to the bathroom to freshen up.

“Are you sure you need that? What if you start crying again?” he shouts from the living room.

“Haha, I’ve gotten everything out now” I laugh back.

“You sure? It would be awfully inconvenient for you to spend half of the time in the bathroom… alone…”

“Almost done Josh!”

I walk back out, and he’s still spread out on the sofa. I sit down on top of him, holding his shoulders as I lean down to kiss him. His hands wander, gripping my thighs and ass.

“You said we should talk?” I tease, knowing he’s getting riled up.

“No, no, no, no. Fuck talking, let’s do this instead” he urges, gripping me harder and pressing me down on him. I want him so bad, but we do indeed have to talk.

“We have to” I whisper.

“I know”

The hours go by as we talk about the incident. I get especially emotional when we talk about the prank, how he tricked me, several times. He wasn’t in his right mindset, but he would do everything in his power to get me to trust him again. He had talked to the others, but the other part of the group decided not to keep in contact. It was a toxic friend group anyway, I comment. He talked about his time in the facility, how it was scary in the beginning, cause he didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. Luckily, Chris had told him about the wendigos, but he still had to pretend they didn’t exist and they were a figment of his imagination when they did his mental evaluation. He just wanted to put everything behind him, and move forward. After a while, the mood lightens, as we stop talking about the deep stuff.

“You hit me!” he laughs, hitting me in the arm.

“Well, I thought you were a fucking Psycho!” I defend myself.

“That wasn’t the only time!”

“The way you were talking? You asked for it!”

“You know, I should really come up with a revenge plan for you”

“Let’s not forget about what you did”

“Nah, that doesn’t count, I was insane”

“You can’t play the mentally ill-card on this”

“Yes I can”

I hit him again, and he grabs my arms, lifting them behind him, causing me to fall flat down on his stomach.

“I think, maybe we’ll go to the bedroom, you get undressed, and I can start leaving some marks on you” he whispers, fingers still entwined with mine.

“Really, what kind of marks are we talking about?” I skeptically ask, looking up at him.

“Maybe a bit similar to the ones you left on me, just without the wood”

“You’re sadistic”

“Some things can’t be cured”

I reach up to him, straddling his lap and kissing him.

“Got something else planned?”

“Eight months gave me time to think”

“And what are your thoughts?”

“Something about you, tied up, blindfolded, begging me to touch you…” he starts, and I feel myself getting wetter. His breathing is hot, and he can’t stop staring at my lips. I smile, slowly grinding on him. Making him let out a groan. “Fuck, and then I’ll teach you a lesson” he says, hands moving to my thighs to help the movements. I bite my lip, eager to get into it, to let him get into me.

“Fucking hell, you need to stop that” he whines.

“You’re the one leading me” I tease, caressing his arms, making him aware of his grip on my thighs. I lean forward, kissing his neck, small pecks all over. He makes a small whimpering sound when I kiss him right below his ear, so I bite down. He jolts, giving out a loud moan. I kiss the pain away, lightly sucking. His hands wander under my shirt, grabbing my waist. In response, I grace his neck with my nails, feeling him shiver under my touch.

He takes out his hands, placing them under my thighs. I pull away, wondering what he’s doing.

“Jos- woah!” I yelp as he lifts me over his shoulder, holding onto my legs so I don’t fall down behind him.

“Josh! What the hell are you doing?” I yell. He stands up, making the ground so far away that I don’t dare to scramble. He smacks my butt, making me gasp while walking over to the bedroom. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t like it.

“You know, you’re gonna pay” he says, something sinister in his voice.

“Oh, really?” I tease, earning myself another smack.

“Don’t try to be a smartass, that’ll not get you anywhere” he says, caressing my legs, one of his hands moving up between my thighs.

“Josh” I say, grabbing hold of his waist from upside down.

“What can I do for you?”

“You can put me down”

“I thought you were into the whole Spiderman-thing” he asks, opening the bedroom door.

“Well, that’s when we’re face to face”

“I guess I’ll have you upside down some other time then” he says, bowing down, making me slam into the bed. I shriek, surprised by the action. He doesn’t waste time, leaning over me, capturing my lips in his. It starts hungry, but eventually finds a rhythm filled with passion and regret. I open up, letting him inside. Our breaths are heaving in sync, and I grab both sides of his face, eating him up.

“Eager are we?” he teases, but I have no more room for jokes.

“Eight months Josh…”

“Yeah, I know”

We continue the assault on each other, chests heaving and bodies grinding. With every passing second, my body grows hotter and wetter. I grab hold of the hem of his shirt, dragging it off him. I’m mesmerized.

“Have you been working out?”

“Wasn’t much to do there”

“Fuck” I mumble as I feel him up, memorizing his lines. He eagerly drags my shirt off, shocked by the fact that I’m not wearing a bra.

“And you were saving this sight only for me?”

“Only you” I smile, loosening his belt. He grabs both my hands, holding them over my head.

“Let’s not get right to the main course” he purrs in my ear.

“Oh, please, I’ve waited long enough”

“Patience” he whispers, voice vibrating hot against my skin. He leaves a trail of kisses, starting on my lips, moving slowly down my neck. With his free hand, he grabs my breast, squeezing and fickling with my nipple. I moan from his touch, legs automatically pressing against each other, longing for some type of friction. My core aches for him, being turned on for so long that I feel like a primal animal. He notices, and places his knee in between, making me grind down on him.

“You’re too eager”

“Fucking hell Washington, if you don’t do anything in the nex-”

“Oh my, of course. Whatever you say m’lady” he smiles, entertained by my longing for him. He strokes his fingers over my wetness, noticing that I’m drenched through. I ache for him, him and his touch. I have for eight fucking months.

“God, you have been waiting for this” he calmly exclaims, hand unbuttoning my pants and sliding under. He goes into my panties, coming in contact with my folds immediately. I whine, feeling his faint touch. His thumb starts rubbing circles around my clit, and the longing pleasure I’ve been waiting for seeps through my body. I let out loud moans which are drowned by his kisses.

“You’re doing so good for me” he whispers, inserting one of his fingers. He pushes in and out, continuing to put pressure on my clit. The knot in my stomach tenses abnormally quick, and I throw my head back as he starts kissing my collar. He chuckles against my skin, noticing how down bad I am for him. He doesn’t stop, working his fingers and toying with my breasts until I come all over him.

“Good, good” he whispers as I breathe heavily. He makes his way down, taking hold of my pants and dragging them completely off. Before he goes down again, he takes off his own, leaving him in only his boxers. I see his hardness through the fabric, the size of it drenching my already soaked underwear. He lies on top of me, hand caressing my stomach and moving to my waist. He takes hold, spinning me around on my stomach. I give a yelp, but he quickly puts a bit of his weight on top, caging me under him, unable to move.

“Don’t think you’re getting away that easy” he whispers as his hand moves down to my panties, dragging them off.

“Fuck, Josh please” I plead, having been ready for him for a long time. I immediately hear a loud smack, before feeling stinging pain on my ass cheek. I cry out, and he moves his hand to rub the painful area.

“Tell me exactly what you want” he purrs in my ear, hand not moving.

“I want you Josh” I whine, feeling tears in the corners of my eyes. A loud smacking noise fills the room again, but this time I moan out his name. He smirks, hand rubbing soft circles, numbing the pain.

“You need to go into more detail than that”

My mind is fogged, the instincts being mere sexual as everything he does and says turns me on more.

“You’re practically dripping, like getting manhandled that bad?” he comments, fingers gracing my warmth and making me give out a choked cry.

“Just tell me what you want and I’ll get you right off” he coys, smirking as he kisses my neck. I try to steady my voice, but it still comes out in the most erotically desperate sounds ever made.

“Please Josh, I want you inside me, now, right now”

“Oh really?”

“Yes please, please”

“I love it when you beg for me” he whispers as he takes off his underwear. Finally. He takes hold of me, turning me back on my back so we’re facing each other.

“I wanna see you” he says, leaning down and kissing me. His cock brushes up against my folds, coating itself and pressing. I gasp as he goes inside me, painfully slow. He grunts as he gets all the way in, grabbing my thigh hard, definitely leaving a mark.

“God you’re beautiful” he whispers, hand coming to my face, thumb swiping away a tear. He leans even further down, making sure our chests are pressing up against each other, and my arms move under his, and hold onto his back.

“Josh, I’ve missed you so much” I stammer, the ecstasy of everything blurring my mind and messing with my senses. All I feel is his eyes staring, his hot breath, and immense pleasure. He starts moving against me, pelvis grinding on my clit, with no need for extra factors. I take him in, soaking and moaning, wishing that we didn’t lose two years of this. His breaths quicken, moans passing through his lips. I clench around him as I come again, and he rides the orgasm out with me, capturing my lips once again in a sloppy and panting kiss.

“I love you” he whispers, still moving and breathing heavily. My heart flutters as he says it, my legs pressing him deeper into me.

“I love you too” I say back between gasps, taking hold of his neck and pulling him to my lips. He goes faster, and I feel the slight overstimulation as he continues, making me whine. He gets me to the edge again, using his hand to fondle my breasts and sucking my neck.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” he pants.

“Yes, please do!” I urge, coming another time around his cock, tightening. This throws him over, and he buries himself deep inside as he comes as well. He collapses on top of me, the sudden weight knocking my breath out. It quickly comes back, and I fold my arms around him, hugging and kissing his hairline.

“Don’t leave” I force out, breathless and weak.

“Never” he answers, just as exhausted.

83 notes · View notes

starl0rds · 4 days ago

Text

Theory of Desire

Hwang In-ho x Fem! Reader ୨୧ · ♡ · ୨୧

Pt. 6 in a multi-chapter series!

“It wasn’t real. Any of it?” The words were less of a question, more of a truth you refused to accept.

The past has always been a part of you, and that includes In-ho. It only worsens the sting of betrayal.

Warnings: minors dni! smut, mentions of sex, masturbation, wet dream, fingering, oral sex, blood, dirty talk, dom!in-ho, praise kink, basically plot with porn/porn with plot

Author's Note: thank you so much for all the love and feedback on the fic!! I'm overjoyed to hear how many of you are liking it. chapters will be updated every few days on ao3 <3

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Chapter 6: it finds a way to live in you

What you're given, what you live in

Darlin', it finds a way to live in you

And your heart, love, has such darkness

I feel it in the corners of the room

- “De Selby (Part 2),” by Hozier

In-ho remembered those last days clearly. He sweltered in the heat of the urban summer, all those years ago, spent almost every day he could at the precinct. His life had shrunk to going between work and the hospital. Sometimes, he slept at either place. Today was no different.

He arrived at 7:00 on the dot. After downing a cup of black coffee, he continued work on his open cases, throwing himself into this job like it was a life-line keeping him from sinking. And he was, sinking, quickly. This time was the longest she’d ever been in the hospital. And they had discovered she was pregnant. God, she was—

In his daze, his shoulder collided with someone else’s.

“Hey!” the detective scoffed as he adjusted his folders. “Watch that.”

“Pardon me. Detective Kang.”

“Detective Hwang. Still uptight as ever?”

“If that’s how you perceive me.”

“Would it kill you to lighten up? I’m really not going to miss you when you’re gone, Detective.”

In-ho froze. “What do you mean by that?”

“Seriously?” The other detective laughed. “The captain’s assistant let it slip to Min-gi, and he told everyone else in the precinct. They all know.”

“Know of…”

“Oh, I see. Denial might work with the captain, but it won’t on me.”

Though his voice was even, a nagging worry began to grow in In-ho’s mind. “I assure you, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Moonrise Capital. Gwang-jo Ventures. Out of the few.” Detective Kang sneered now. “Sound familiar?”

The loans.

Sensing he’d hit a nerve, the other detective leaned in, emboldened. “I suggest you enjoy your last week. You’re fucked, golden boy,” he grinned. In-ho felt the pit of despair opening up in his stomach.

The smoke from his last cigarette curled into the afternoon sky. In-ho had never really been a smoker, but these days it was easier to indulge a few cigarettes during work rather than down a bottle of whiskey in his dwindling private time. He knew she would disapprove. Maybe he would stop if she would only get better.

The rest of the morning after his conversation with Detective Kang had passed in a blur. At lunchtime, he had stared down at the scant leftovers he had packed for himself, bulgogi over rice, and placed the lid back on top of the tupperware. It had felt too much like a prisoner’s last meal.

His mind drifted back to the open cases, sitting on his desk. He had work to do, undoubtedly. But after he was gone, they’d likely be reassigned to one of the other detectives. He pursed his lips at the thought of someone like Detective Kang going through his cases.

And then there was that woman.

In-ho thought of what he had read in her file—the words from her testimony, filling pages upon pages worth of notes, contrasted against the paucity of the rest of her file. He felt a pang of empathy for her. Firefighters fight fires with water. The police fight crimes with evidence, he heard Chief Kim say in his head.

His mind turned. Below, the bustle of cars and motorbikes cut through the rippling heat of late summer. The sun beat down on his face.

He put his cigarette out on the balcony and grabbed his keys.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

(chapter cont. here on ao3!)

taglist: @k1ra-park3r, @fries11, @orihime188

#squid game #hwang in ho #hwang in-ho #hwang inho x reader #hwang inho x you #hwang inho x y/n #hwang inho smut #seong gi hun #squid game s2 #squid game season 2 #001 x reader #young il x reader #front man x reader #front man #squid game smut #angst #yeah..... betrayal #the bigger the angst the bigger the eventual comfort right

63 notes · View notes

starrrcane · 16 days ago

Text

Memories of Melodies

sevika x reader angst/comfort

summary: As you both reminisce over music, it triggers sevika’s past. You help her find her truest memories, helping her cope with nostalgia

warnings: sad sevika, friendzoned sevika…

notes: hi guys, I actually haven’t written in like 472847 years please bear with me. I love u, drink water, sleep well gn!

Silco’s office was quieter than usual, save for the faint hum of conversation behind his closed door. He was locked in one of his drawn-out discussions with Singed, leaving you and Sevika to fend off the boredom in the corner of the room. Sevika to fend off the boredom in the corner of the room.

You’d been flipping through the records Silco kept on a dusty shelf, intrigued by the eclectic collection. Finding one that seemed interesting, you placed it on the player, letting the soft, jazzy melody fill the room.

Sevika, lounging in a chair with her feet propped up, glanced at you. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping myself entertained,” you said, swaying slightly to the rhythm. “What, does Silco not allow music?”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t usually come up.”

You spun around to face her, your expression suddenly curious. “Do you have a favorite song?”

Sevika snorted. “No.”

“No?” You stared at her like she’d just admitted to hating puppies. “How can you not like music? That’s basically a crime!”

“It’s just... not my thing,” she said, avoiding your gaze.

“Why?” you pressed, dramatically clutching your chest as if her indifference physically pained you. Sevika sighed, her brows knitting together in annoyance—or perhaps something deeper. “It’s complicated.”

“Well, I’ve got time,” you said, leaning on the edge of Silco’s desk and grinning at her.

She stared at you for a long moment, her expression guarded. Then, almost imperceptibly, her shoulders sagged. “My mom used to sing to me,” she said, her voice low and distant.

You immediately dropped the teasing tone. “Oh...”

“She’d sing the same song every night before bed,” Sevika continued, her gaze fixed on some point in the room that only she could see. “After she... after I lost her. I’ve tried to remember it, but it’s like it’s just... gone.” She can’t remember much from her childhood, the effect of the shimmer, alcohol and the air in Zaun had become a triple threat on everyone there, not just her.

Her mechanical fingers flexed slightly, a nervous habit you’d noticed before. “I don’t even know the words anymore. Just bits and pieces.”

You hesitated, watching the way her jaw tightened. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Sevika shook her head, exhaling sharply. “It’s fine. I just...” She paused, searching for the right words. “I miss hearing it. I don’t know why, but I do.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the weight of her admission hanging in the air. Then an idea sparked in your mind, and you straightened. “You know,” you began carefully, “I grew up with this guy who moved to Piltover and became a musician...”

Sevika gave you a skeptical look. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well,” you said, grinning now, “we could go see him. Maybe he could help you figure out the song.” Her eyes narrowed. “Sneak up to Piltover? Are you out of your mind?”

“Maybe,” you admitted, hopping off the desk. “But wouldn’t it be worth it if we found it?”

Sevika’s gaze flickered with something you couldn’t quite place—hesitation, hope, or maybe just disbelief. “You’d do that for me?”

You rolled your eyes, reaching out to grab her hand and tug her out of the chair. “Duh. You’re my friend.”

Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile before she caught herself. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Most good ones are,” you said cheerfully, dragging her toward the door.

“Silco’s going to kill us,” Sevika muttered, but she didn’t pull away.

“Only if we get caught,” you shot back, flashing her a grin.

And just like that, the two of you slipped out into the shadows of the Undercity, the thought of your little adventure pushing everything else to the back of your minds. For now, it was just the two of you, and the distant hope of a song waiting to be found.

The office door creaked as you pushed it open, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “James!” you called, your voice echoing in the cozy space.

A head popped around the corner, the familiar face of your old classmate framed by a cascade of sheet music tacked to the walls. His hair was tousled, and his sleeves were rolled up, as if he’d been in the middle of composing.

He blinked at you . “What are *you* doing here?” He exclaimed in surprise

You walk in father into the room, tossing your bag onto the nearest chair. “You said I could visit whenever I wanted. I’ve got a question for you.”

James raised an eyebrow, stepping fully into view.

You turning back toward the doorway. “C’mon, Sevika,” you called, reaching back to grab her arm. But your fingers only met empty air.

Frowning, you glanced over your shoulder and saw her lingering in the hallway, her broad frame almost comically out of place in the polished, sunlit corridor. She had one hand on the doorframe, her posture stiff as her wary eyes darted around.

“Sevika,” you called again, more insistently this time. “Get in here.”

She peeked her head around the corner, her expression caught somewhere between annoyance and reluctance. “This was your idea,” she muttered.

“Yeah, and I didn’t drag us all the way up here for you to stand in the hall. Come on,” you said, waving her in like she was a skittish stray.

Sevika hesitated for another moment, then sighed heavily and stepped into the room. Her presence seemed to fill the space instantly, and you could see James’s eyes widen as he took in her towering figure and mechanical arm.

“Well,” James said, his tone lighter but edged with curiosity. “This is... unexpected.”

“James, Sevika. Sevika, James,” you said quickly, gesturing between them. “She’s the one with the question, not me.”

Sevika shot you a glare, but you only smiled back, waiting. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she crossed her arms, clearly uncomfortable. “This was a mistake,” she muttered.

“No, it wasn’t,” you countered firmly. “Go on. Ask him.”

James leaned against his desk, watching the interaction with mild amusement. “This about music, I assume?”

Sevika finally exhaled, her shoulders dropping slightly. “There’s... a song,” she began, her voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “I don’t know the name, and I don’t remember much of it. But my mom used to sing it to me when I was a kid.”

James’s curiosity sharpened, and he straightened, gesturing for her to continue. “Do you remember *anything*? A melody? A phrase? Even the kind of song it was?”

Sevika hesitated, her eyes flicking to you briefly, as if silently debating whether this was worth the vulnerability. Then, slowly, she nodded. “It was... soft. Lullaby-like. And there was something about stars... or light. I don’t know. It’s been a long time.”

James rubbed his chin, his brow furrowing. “Stars, light, lullaby... That narrows it down a little. Did it sound like this?” He moved to a piano in the corner of the room and played a few tentative notes, forming a gentle, wistful melody.

Sevika’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and her breath caught. “That’s close,” she murmured.

James stopped, tilting his head. “Close, huh? Okay, give me a sec.” He began plucking at the keys again, refining the melody as he worked off her faint memory.

You glanced at Sevika, catching the faintest flicker of emotion in her usually guarded expression. “See?” you said softly. “Worth it.”

Her gaze flickered to yours, and for once, she didn’t argue. Instead, she turned back to James, her guarded mask slipping just a little as she waited, hope glimmering faintly in her eyes.

---

The bathysphere descended slowly, the sound of gears and water pressing against the hull filling the otherwise silent capsule. You sat across from Sevika, knees almost brushing in the cramped space.

Neither of you spoke at first, the weight of the trip lingering in the air. Sevika’s expression was unreadable, her gaze fixed on the window where the dim, murky light of the Undercity began to creep back into view.

You busied yourself with your hands, fidgeting absently. Your fingers twisted around each other, tracing over the lines of your palms as you tried to process everything that had happened.

“Thank you,” Sevika said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Your head snapped up, surprised by the softness in her tone. She wasn’t looking at you, though—her eyes remained on the window, her profile lit faintly by the glow of the bathysphere’s controls.

“For what?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

“For... all of it,” she said after a moment. “The music. The trip. Dragging me out of there when I wanted to turn back.”

You nodded slowly, looking back down at your hands. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, though you knew it wasn’t.

“It’s not nothing,” she countered, her voice firm but not unkind. “You didn’t have to do that. But you did.”

You shrugged, your fingers still restless. “Well... I figured it mattered to you. And that’s what friends do, right?”

Her brow furrowed slightly at the word *friends*, like it was something unfamiliar to her. But she didn’t argue. Instead, she leaned back in her seat, her mechanical arm resting on the edge of the capsule, the faint whir of its servos filling the silence.

“I didn’t think I’d ever hear something close to that song again,” she admitted, her voice low.

You looked up at her then, watching the way her shoulders seemed a little less tense, her usual guardedness softened by the memory.

“Well,” you said, offering a small smile, “maybe next time, we can figure out the rest of it. James loves a challenge.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Next time. Sure.”

The bathysphere jolted slightly as it approached the docking station. You felt the weight of the Undercity settle around you again, the air growing colder, heavier.

Sevika glanced at you, her expression unreadable again. “You’re alright, you know that?”

You blinked at her, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. “I try,” you said, your voice soft.

The door to the bathysphere hissed open, let you off.

#sevika x reader #sevika #sevika angst #sevika imagine #sevika headcanon #sevika arcane #arcane #lesbian #arcane x reader #sevika arcane x reader

68 notes · View notes

lunarfleur · 10 months ago

Note

Sure! I don't mind requesting something new! So you write somewhere in your works how Miles 42 and reader met through location, "whether it be going to the same school or living in the same building or whatever"

I wanna' see a fanfic in Miles pov how he and reader met and how their relationship developed throughout the process! I wanna' know if he's going to make a move in interacting with reader or such. :))

Mr. Tambourine Man ~ Earth 42! Miles Morales

A/N: Many people will tell you this song is about a drug dealer. I, however, have always taken Mr. Tambourine Man as an analogy for youth. Take this as you will.

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin @hiyaitssans @nagi3seastorm @luvjunie @milesmolasses @n1cole-ghost @kombuuuu

This is x fem! Reader

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me.

I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to

Growing up, Miles had always been the dull kid in the corner of the classroom. It was his nature.

He didn’t really remember his dad’s death, but there was always a sort of emptiness in the Morales apartment that never got filled. The emptiness has always been there, in his home and in his mother.

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me

In the jingle jangle morning I'll come following you

On the late nights, he hears his mother sitting in the living room all by herself lonesome. She sits on the couch, in the same spot she has been all these years; next to the spot his father would have taken up.

He can imagine it: his mother curled up under a blanket, her husband’s arm resting over her shoulders. He’d kiss her head and the spot behind her ear. She’d pretend to pay no mind and act as if he doesn’t still make her giddy like he did back when they were young.

Though I know that evening's empire has returned into sand, vanished from my hand.

Left me blindly here to stand, but still not sleeping.

But his father was not there. The late Jeff Morales did not get to stay up with his wife, watching the television as their child sleeps. He was dead, but it sometimes felt like his ghost was haunting the city. He’s gone, but it’s like he’s still there.

As he grew up, Miles did not get the joy his classmates did. He watched his mother work like a dog to support the two of them. He spent many nights alone, waiting for her to come home.

It was sad. Miles was sad.

My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet.

I have no one to meet, and the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming.

So here he sits, in the corner of his studio art class, his last period of the day. Miles is behind an easel, dried paint covering his hands and table. There was music playing in his headphones, but he wasn’t really listening. It was to block out the other noises.

The door opens, and in walks a girl he’s never seen. It was an odd feeling, at first, a shred of nervousness he didn’t quite understand.

He looked around the room, at all the other students and seats, only to realize the one next to him was the only one open. Perfect.

She talks to the teacher, nothing he can hear, snd watches as she slowly makes her way over to the spot next to him. Miles turns away, picking up his paint brush to avoid and other contact.

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me.

I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me.

In the jingle jangle morning I'll come following you.

Unfortunately for him, Miles looks unapproachable. He looks like he should be friendly and open. He’s got those big, brown, shiny doe eyes and dimples. His face is dusted with freckles. His lips are big and plush. His nose sits perfectly in the center of his face, blending together nicely with every other feature.

However, people avoid him. He’s quiet and keeps to himself. Miles is sort of a mystery, someone people don’t know much about. He’s got eye bags and an RBF, so people leave him alone. Sometimes it seems as if he’s invisible.

Take me on a trip upon your magic swirling ship.

My senses have been stripped.

The girl sits down, taking out her supplies as she was most likely directed. Tense hands moved shakily. Her breaths were harsh. Her eyebrows furrowed tightly against her forehead. She was nervous.

With a skip of his heart, Miles clears his throat. Her head snaps over quickly, eyes wide with anxiety as he stared her down.

My hands can't feel to grip.

My toes too numb to step.

“Uh..I’m Miles.”

She hesitates, biting the inside of her cheek before nodding.

“Y/N.”

Miles doesn’t look away. Y/N peeks over at his canvas. Her lips curve down into a smile, any trace of her previous fear gone. Her lips pressed together tightly, eyebrows raising. No tension, no anxiety.

“You’re really talented.”

“…Thanks.”

Her smile did not falter. She looked at him for a moment, and that one moment felt like an eternity.

Her nose, cheeks, and lips were a blend of heaven sitting on her face. Her hair was smooth and clean. Miles swore her eyes looked like stars.

Y/N was definitely beautiful.

Wait only for my boot heels to be wandering.

I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade into my own parade.

Cast your dancing spell my way, I promise to go under it.

“What, uh,” Miles spoke again, “what class was you coming from?”

He watched as Y/N fumbled with her schedule, a blue piece of paper crumpling in her hands.

“I have Spanish II, but I was in the office.”

Miles nodded, a small simper forming across his lips.

“I’m in there, too.”

Y/N grinned at him, eyes squinting slightly. It was almost bright.

Though you might hear laughing, spinning, swinging madly across the sun, it's not aimed at anyone.

It's just escaping on the run.

“I’ll walk with you, tomorrow?”

It came out as a question, and Miles would be lying if he said that didn’t surprise him. There was a fuzzy, warm feeling in his stomach that, for a second, made him question if he was getting sick.

Y/N chuckled, a simple melody that sent flowers blooming across his skin. It felt like goosebumps, but much more intense. The sensation matched that of bathing in the sun.

“I’d like that.”

And but for the sky there are no fences facing.

And if you hear vague traces of skipping reels of rhyme to your tambourine in time

Y/N glanced over to a small group of kids sitting diagonally from them. They were watching intently, eyes wide with curiosity. As quickly as it came, Miles’s almost cheerful expression fell back into place. The corners of his lips dropped, so did his eyebrows. In less than a moment, he was tense once more.

It's just a ragged clown behind.

I wouldn't pay it any mind, it's just a shadow you're seeing that he's chasing.

They turned away awkwardly, returning to their projects. Y/N sucked in a breath. There was tension within her chest. It was a sudden, sharp sensation in his fingertips.

“So did you just move here?”

Y/N smiled, nodding.

“Yeah, from New Jersey.”

Miles nodded along intently.

“How come?”

“Family.”

Questions and answers came as the two packed up their things.

And take me disappearing through the smoke rings of my mind, down the foggy ruins of time

The loud and obnoxious bell rang, and every other student in the class shoved past one another to get out of the room.

Far past the frozen leaves, the haunted frightened trees.

They walked down the hallways together slowly. For the first time, he felt as if he could ask questions. For the first time, someone answered. She answered.

Out to the windy beach, far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.

“So, what’s Jersey like?”

“Well, it’s fun. The food is great.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Miles snickered.

Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky, with one hand waving free.

“Do you like New York?”

“I’m…adjusting.”

“Adjusting?”

“It’s easy to get lost, here.”

Smiling shyly, Y/N pressed her lips together firmly. Miles could almost feel the heat of embarrassment coming from off her face.

“You just need someone to show you around. It gets easy, after all while.”

Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands.

“What’s there to show?”

Miles smiled, looking at the girl next to him as they stepped down the front steps of Visions Academy.

“The sky.”

There was a sudden melancholy feeling that ran down Miles’s spine. It was the same feeling he’d felt on those late nights, waiting for his mother to come home.

Miles did not remember his dad’s death. He didn’t remember the funeral. He just remembered the day the apartment felt less like home.

With all memory and fate, driven deep beneath the waves, let me forget about today until tomorrow.

“It’s the same sky as the one in New Jersey.”

“Different view.”

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me.

“You’ll show me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll show you.”

I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.

“Good.”

“I’ll show you my mural, too.”

“Mural?”

“For my dad.”

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me.

Miles nodded, smiling. She nodded back, humming in reply.

Miles had always been so much like his father. The same smile, the same attitude, the same wit.

Y/N looked at Miles curiously, and Miles became painfully aware of that fact. Birds sung in his lungs and trees grew in his mind. Fresh air.

“Let’s go, Miles. I’m expecting a tour.”

In the jingle jangle morning I'll come following you.

#earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #spiderman #miles morales #miles morales x reader

192 notes · View notes

momotorin · 9 months ago

Text

you cling to your papers and pens (wait until you like me again)

sana x fem!reader — angst, fluff | cw: mention of cigs, weed

it's been a rough, gruesome six months. you've locked yourself away from everyone else, only focused on your work to keep your expenses in the living range, barely eating with the empty bottles of jack daniel’s and soju lying around the dinner table properly like it's your personal bar.

“holy shit,” your friend, nayeon laughs as she sees your wrecked state. “you look like shit,” she says as she walks in, removing her white leather shoes and tucks them away neatly at the step beside the doorway. “your house looks like shit,” she sighs, taking the bottles of alcohol away from your table to your kitchen top. “everything’s shit.”

“don't need to point out the obvious,” you sighed and followed, also cleaning your mess one by one. “i just want my life back, you know?”

she just laughs as she helps you wipe down the mess on your table, “no, you want sana back.”

“well,” you sighed deeply at the memory of what you once, well, whom you still love. “i don't know. she can't leave me like this when i didn't expect that this would happen.”

nayeon was one of the people whom you ranted and cried to the moment sana went m.i.a on you. honestly, you didn't even know the reason why she did. the days before that event of her leaving, you two were happy; you cooked breakfast together, you kissed every time you wanted to, you made love in every corner, you two talked about the most random shit in the world, you rode bikes beside the river, you went on dates, rarely fought, and solved everything by communicating— like in a deep, boundless honeymoon phase.

with sana, you thought that it was never-ending. unconditional. something you could never find everywhere, even if you tried to scurry the ends of the earth for a similar feeling.

but then, on one winter night, just a few days before her birthday, she disappeared like white smoke as cold as your breaths when you cried and screamed her name in the streets of seoul.

up until now, you call her number, text her number, go to the firm she works at (well, it's unavoidable, your workplace was across the street.), text her friends (which, were also your friends and had no clue that sana also left.) hoping for a little update from her, and why she left you.

after hours of cleaning, you finally found yourself satisfied with the step of making (at least) your house a little cleaner. now, everything's clear to you; how sana left you with an empty home— an empty dinner table, an empty bed, an empty sofa, an empty heart. you went into tears remembering almost everything like it all washed, crashed, and flashed in front of you.

she left you with ghosts that you didn't know how to manage, and you're the only one left to deal with it.

does it haunt her the way it does to you? you cursed that she’d be so haunted by it and come running back.

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

on the other side of the world, there's 8 empty bottles of wine on a kitchen top, a woman holding a glass as she wakes up from her ‘nap’ that lasted 8 hours on her couch.

new york. there was sana in the middle of a seemingly concrete jungle, the buildings looming into her as she walks, bigger than anything else she's seen before.

but, this was her escape. she didn't even know what she would escape from.

she confided in the wine glasses, pouring both cheap and expensive wine in one night, crying and lulling herself with your voice in her messages to sleep. it didn't help that it was cold, and your embrace was the only thing that she can ever confide in. it was awful too, how the memory of you talking about new york haunts her, how she imagines you in every street, in every store, in every corner of it and how much you'd enjoy it both.

she doesn't know why she needs time if she chooses to hurt. she's so afraid of the fact that she'll break you, that she can never give what you want.

she found a small, blue velvet box in your cabinet as she wanted to steal one of your hoodies (which happens more often than not) which sent chills to her spine. you wanted to marry her.

at first, she didn't really mind as maybe you'll give it another time, or maybe it's a different ring. but you've been hinting about it ever so slightly since, and that just kept her away. she didn't even know why she was so afraid of telling you just that.

but sana's smart enough to catch on, hearing you on a call with your friend at 3am, talking about the ring, and how you'd give it to her on her birthday, basically like a double thing where you'd propose and surprise her.

on the 28th, she decided, taking one of your hoodies with her as her pairs of shoes, clothes, things, and she herself, leaves your shared home.

she sighs, putting the wineglass to a safer place, her coffee table. it doesn't help that the layout of her flat was so similar to your shared home, and she sometimes just wakes up with tears in her eyes, knowing that she had dreamt about you.

she doesn't know. what she knows is that your hurting at the same time she was hurting.

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

“we're going to relocate you to new york for this project,” your boss says as he slides you a thick pile of manila folders, supposedly from the new client. “they liked your portfolio.”

“okay,” you leaned back at the cushioned chair. “what are the conditions?”

“what they've said is that you’ll be on the project for the whole duration,” your boss sighs against his own chair. “and then they’ll put you on their team of other architects in new york. they have a similar style than yours, but they'd make you the head.”

“when will i meet them?” i asked. “i mean, before i fly, there's an initial meeting, right?”

“it’s gonna be on friday,” your boss says. “read the profiles on those so that you could get a rough draft of what they want from you.”

“and surprisingly, they wanted me,” you laughed over the phone at just how ridiculous it was. you haven't had any big projects since six months ago, which was your break-up. you refused to accept, but then, this one's different. “plus, it's a two year contract. they want me there until the building stands upright.”

your friend, momo, laughs in absolute delight. “great. you'd meet me often then,” she joked, but then, you don't see why not. “and, i assure you that i've got the stuff, you know? girls, booze, and even the devil's grass— i have them.”

“god, can you calm down for a second, i'm not even there yet,” you joked back. “wait, isn't weed illegal in new york?”

“yeah, it is,” momo chuckles. “well, you've got to get your ass to other states too to live a little. that's why it's called the united states of america, not united state of new york.”

“i can't believe you can't even stay still,” you sighed over the phone. it was a classic, momo was an adventurer all on her own, so you couldn't blame her. “anyways, meet me at the airport, okay?”

“yes, sure,” she sighs over the phone too. you could just feel the eye roll from thousands of miles away. “you better get me what i've said to you.”

“of course,” you affirmed. it was a list of her favourite snacks and some other asian kitchen staples, since she does cook often. “half of my luggage is like your stuff. don't even complain if the jjapaggeti noodles are broken.”

“yeah, whatever,” momo chuckles over the phone. “just bring yourself here in one piece. you already have a place?”

“yup,” you breathe, remembering how much you were looking forward to that house. it was supposed to be your home after you've proposed to sana. “i, um, kept it for a while.”

“alright,” momo replied. “i gotta go.”

you then smiled, “okay, see you.”

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

momo fetches you from the airport with a silly little sign that read: “WELCOME TO NEW YORK Y/N!” then, she happily shows you around the new york city like a tourist before going home.

“is this it?” momo asks, looking up through her window to see if she was in the right apartment complex.

you nodded and said, “yes, this is it.” you smiled as you got off the car, helping momo unload the luggage. you took out a big bag and a small plastic bag out of your luggage, and gave it to momo who was already smiling with joy. “snacks.”

“you're my bestest friend ever.” she says, quite sarcastically as she loads the stuff back to the backseats of her sedan. “you really sure that you can't spend the night out?”

“i need to deal with the jetlag first,” you explained as you closed your luggage. “plus, i have a meeting tomorrow. i need to deal with that first.”

“okay,” momo smiles and hugs you. “just give me a call whenever you need someone, okay?”

“yes, yes,” you smiled and hugged her back. “you go home now.”

“yup,” she says, going back to the driver's seat. “good night, y/n!”

you smiled and waved at her until she disappeared from the street, as now you're left with your heavy luggage and your stuffed backpack. you get your keycard from your wallet and slowly went up the stairs, having a breath of relief seeing the entrance to go up the complex.

it had an elevator, luckily, it was working, and you pushed the button to the 4th floor. your door was to the left, a huge studio unit facing the street. although it isn't that busy, you really liked it as there were trees, and it was downtown.

god, you wished that sana could live in this beauty with you. the apartment, by your design, had taken inspiration from the 60s, mid century modern at it's very best. you turn on the lights to see the furniture still covered with what you left it.

you quickly remove it to take a seat on the sofa. you couldn't believe just how much it feels this big. it was like someone was meant to be beside you, but now you're left all by yourself.

the big windows show just what's outside. another complex, another window, weirdly, your neighbor's windows were open. you didn't have your glasses on, so you didn't really mind, but there was a woman who held a glass of wine, her hair tied into a bun as she read a book. it was a quiet life, and you were sure of it.

you take out something from your backpack, a little journal for your sketches. you draw the lines of your window, and draw the woman just across you. you don't know her, but you smile at the sight of her just turning pages and drinking her wine. you finished your sketch, smiling, and you passed out on the same sofa.

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

sana, after a while of drinking wine and reading, takes a look across the road. it's the first time she sees the lights open from the neighbor's window, and she sees just how big the windows were compared to hers. must've been great to live there as she sees the furniture. it looks like a damn museum in soho.

she doesn't miss the sight of a person, still wrapped up in their most uncomfortable clothes, a brown, long trench coat, dress pants, and a dress shirt; passed out on the sofa. that's how she remembers you sleeping when you've had a bad, excruciating day from your work, and she chuckles at it. she must've been so drunk to think that it was you, so she gets her eyeglasses.

“fuck.” she cursed. she rubs her eyes in disbelief, maybe she's going crazy that now you haunt her. “fuck, this can't be.” she slaps herself, trying to make sense of it all as she hurriedly closes her windows shut.

she knows you've had a couple of apartment complexes in new york way before she ghosted you. she knows that you own several here— one in the upper west, one in soho, and this one, all of it being rented. she was going crazy and filled her wineglass again, trying to relieve her veins.

she couldn't sleep that night without trying to look at the other side. seeing you sleep like that, so uncomfortable and busy. her heart aches as she still knows just how much your forehead creases like that, at just how much she knows your heart sleeps heavy too. she wants to hold you like she always does, and wants you to let it all out on her.

sana cries herself to sleep that night.

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

you wake up to the bright sunlight seeping into the corners of your home. you even forgot to take out the lights before you slept so uncomfortably on the sofa. you looked at your watch, seeing that it was already 9 AM, just an hour before your meeting, so you hurriedly stood up, cursing as you pulled down the blinds of the window to have some privacy before you left. you didn't miss how the woman across you had shut her windows down even if she was letting it all open at night. weird.

you then chuckled at the thought and got rid of your other clothes to take a bath and hurriedly made yourself presentable for the meeting.

you just thanked god for the subway system, and how fast you can run. you arrived at the meeting room 10 AM, on the dot, and you immediately took out your laptop to present.

it went well, and now you're reassigned into a team on the 14th floor, working on the same project as you. it's a two year contract with them, so you made a promise to yourself that you'll not slack off about it. well, it's just that you can't. it's a big project and you need to design both interior and exterior.

the same night, since it was a weekend, you decided to get a couple of drinks from the deli just right at the corner of your street. you were already dressed comfortably, and you're now looking at the selection of alcohol in the back of the deli. you can't deny that you've been drinking more now than ever, even when you were partying. you sigh as you get two bottles of smirnoff mule, a staple since you've been spending time here and not finding cheaper-than-water soju.

you went to the cashier and saw a woman getting in, hair falling down to her shoulders, wearing a comfortable pair of slides, with a pair of black rimmed round glasses and one of your favorite hoodies. wait. what?

you look at her again, her back facing you. that mclaren formula one hoodie. it was plain in the front, just having the team’s logo, and it had a huge print of the car at the back. it was a gift from her since she knows just how much you like formula one.

“that'll be $5.28.” the cashier reminds you. “anything else?”

“a pack of marlboro reds too, please.” you smiled, and you heard the woman, whom you think was sana, clear her throat. she knows you've been trying to come clean, and since the four years you've been together, you haven't touched any type of cigarette. she can't bear the feeling that pangs in her chest, knowing that you'll relapse because of her.

“that'll be $22.28.” the cashier says. damn, that expensive? you thought in your head. it was just a fake buy, yeah, you'd put it, but you'll leave it rotting. you become sick at the smell of tobacco in your system.

“have a great night!” you greet as you went outside the deli, waiting for the woman to come out. you don't plan to confront her, but you do plan to get something out of her. you don't care if she'll nag at you, or hit you, or ignore you. you just want her to know you're here and you've found her.

you put a stick of cigarette between your lips, and you pull out your lighter (you keep it as a fidget toy, and you recently put some fluid on it.) you spark it as you saw, at the corner of your eye, sana leaving the deli to go to your street too.

you took a sickly puff out as she passes by, and she coughs loudly.

“what? have a problem with it?” you confronted her. “it’s not like it's your first time seeing me like this, minatozaki.”

you quickly disposed of the cigarette. you hated it already, and it was no use. she stopped in her tracks, hearing her last name come out of your mouth.

“just stop running away.” you chuckled to yourself. “you already know i can never get mad at you.”

“i live at number 14, 4th floor, number 229, the door's always open.” you shouted as she continues walking. you didn't care if you just exposed your room number, or your literal address to everyone. not that they’d care. what's important is that sana does. “i want my hoodie back!”

“well fuck you!” she shouts back, and from that, you can see her tears run from her face. “it's mine now!”

she runs to her apartment, and you observed, it was the one just across yours. you waited until you knew which floor she was on. you knew it the moment the second unit of the third floor opened their lights, and it was the one directly in your direction. you laugh at the realization that she was the woman whom you were drawing the first night you were here.

“god, i can't believe she's still this stubborn.” you say to yourself as you keep smiling your way to your apartment. thank god you have a hundred papers for creating your blueprints, and you lay one out on your drawing table to write ‘give me my hoodie back!’ in big letters, enough for sana to see the next morning when she opens her windows.

days passed. you haven't been opening your window since she still isn't giving you back your hoodie.

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

“damn, it's dark in here,” momo laughs as she puts down her chinese takeout, seeing your apartment this dim in the afternoon. the only one with a light was your work table, which had most of your blueprints. “i know you hate overhead lighting but don't fuck your eyes up more.”

“yes, i know,” you sigh as you open the lights. “i'm just trying to cut down on the costs.”

“you own the damn building,” momo scoffed as she opened her box. “plus, you have more money than you think.”

“please don't get me to try weed again.” you joked as you also took a box, opening it to smell the most scrumptious chow fan you've ever smelled. “this is enough.”

“yeah, it's great, probably the greatest one around here,” momo smiles as she takes another bite of her food. “sana lives just right across from you then?”

you just nodded as you went to get some water from your fridge. “she just said fuck you.”

“i mean, she would,” momo joked. “but like, that's kinda asshole-y of her to just ignore you.”

“she ghosted me, of course she would ignore me,” you laughed. “no one gets friendly with people they've ghosted.”

“why didn't you like, pull her to you?” momo asked. “you know. like ones in dramas?”

“nothing would ever come out of it either.” you sighed. “plus, i didn't have the guts too. maybe i was so upset that i really just wanted my hoodie back. don't even try to sound me out. i know that you'll say you kissed mina the moment you reconcile. but she didn't ghost you!”

“okay, yes, that's right, but still.” momo holds you by the shoulders to calm you down. “get your girl back.”

“i can't,” you laughed. “i'm so busy that i didn't even remember that i got dumped. honestly, at how busy i am, i might even forget that she lives just right across from me. i haven't called her number, i haven't texted her for days. the last text i sent her was i told her that my detergent was still the same.”

“why the hell would she want to know that?” momo laughs.

“dunno,” you pouted. “she has my hoodie, might as well make it smell like me.”

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

“i fucking hate that she hasn't even changed one bit,” sana sobs as she confides in her friend's side. “it’s so annoying.”

sana remembers the way you screamed. the way you faked buying cigarettes and taking one stick that you immediately threw as she turned her back against you. the way you called her last name. the way your voice cracked in pain. the way you drew your note with a silly character. it annoys her that you keep on staying on her mind. she was supposed to forget you.

“i'm,” she sobs more, nursing a bottle of some alcohol she got offered with. “so annoyed that i still want her.”

“then get her back,” mina laughs as she hugs sana. “honestly, she'd understand it. like she always would.”

“i don't wanna hurt her anymore,” sana sobs as she takes another sip. “i never deserved her.”

“she pursued you back then,” mina remembered, rubbing her hand across sana's arm to calm her down. “what makes you think that you don't deserve her when she literally wanted you?”

“i just can't.”

“do you still want her?” mina asked.

“yes,” sana chuckles through her tears. “a little too much.”

“then pursue her,” mina whispered. “try to win her back.”

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

sana kept that in mind. that night, she wanted to go home by herself, and mina let her do so, even if she was too concerned. sana got too annoying and mina just dropped her off by the subway instead.

sana stops by the corner deli to try and see you.

you were at the deli to grab a little snack, and you opened the door to go outside but you almost hit someone, “shit, look where you're going!” your stuff fell to the ground and you heard the person chuckle.

“sorry,” you looked up at the person. “i shouldn't have.”

you realized it was sana. she wasn't standing upright, her outfit looked like it was chilly, and her eyes were almost closing. “sana,” you held her by the waist, trying to get her upright. you pull her close to you as she pulls you by the waist too, her head leaning to your neck. “goddamnit.”

“don't say that,” sana laughs against your skin. “but i get it though.” she slurred her speech. it was probably the copious amount of alcohol she consumed.

“i swear if you ever vomit on me i won’t meet you again.” you've seen it all. she vomited on you the first night you went out and she was too drunk. “i'm serious.”

“i know,” she whined as she hugged you again. “just take me home. i don't do that anymore, baby.”

“stop,” you tried to unclasp her from you, but her hold on you was tight. “i can't walk properly.”

“you do,” she looks down and sees that your steps were completely fine. how the hell is she still this conscious? “please.”

“we're gonna trip.” you chuckled. “get off of me first.”

she did get off of you, but she continued pouting, and you see her tears pooling around her lower eyelids.

“okay,” you took off your jacket and let her wear it, then you carried her with your arms, which took her by surprise and she immediately wrapped her arms around your neck. “don’t think that i'm still head over heels for you,” you warned. “i'm doing this because your feet are fucking swollen.” you were right. she was wearing those heels with such a steep form, and it was inches away from the ground too. you're surprised that she haven't even removed it yet.

she just nods, and her tears fall down. she can't believe that you're not mad. that you're not fuming. that you haven't even refused her yet. you don't hate her.

you take her to her apartment, lay her down on the couch, and you search for a glass to pour some water in. “here,” you handed it to her. “sober up.”

“thanks.” she smiles and wipes her tears.

“don't even,” you said. it hurts her to hear that you're almost monotonous. “where's my hoodie?”

“i’ll return it to you,” sana says as she rests her head on the couch, surrendering her whole drunk body in it. “it's in the wash basket. don't even bother to find it. i promise.”

it was an excuse for you to get her a blanket, which you got from her bed. you saw that her eyes were already closed, and you're even more surprised that she's actually already sleeping. you laid the blanket on her legs, and she pulled it up to consume her whole body with it.

you don't know why, but you watched her sleep. you watched if her eyes also tear up, or if she mumbles your name. you heard it and sana full on sobs, you saw at just how much her hand tightens around the edge of the blanket, how her breath heaved as she mumbled your name.

you don't understand. why does she seem more hurt than you? you're the one she left, and not the other way around. did that drunk curse work that well for her to miss you this much?

you find yourself crying. you just can't bear it so you left, but you didn't miss to tuck her hair behind her ear, and you didn't miss to wipe her tears by the tip of your thumb. you just couldn't bear seeing her this hurt.

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

sana grunts as she sits up from the couch, feeling her head throbbing against her skull. she was warm, having the jacket on and a blanket. she saw that she had water and hangover pills just on the table where her night lamp was placed. well, fuck.

she looks at her phone hurriedly, wanting to see if she got a new message or a new call from you. she opened her windows and saw a new note saying: drink your meds!

she forgot for a moment that you were there with her last night, that's why she has your black puffer jacket, and that there's a note on the table too. it was your number, and you wrote: “whenever you're ready.”

she just couldn't believe how calm you were. she just can't bring herself to admit that you don't hate her.

her eyes run a tear once more. she doesn't even know why she's this hurt. she chose to leave, didn't she?

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

sana conquered the fear of texting you first. but after telling that the number she texted with is her active number, you just left her on read.

her day passes by like that, looking at her phone every once in 30 minutes, staring at her phone the whole lunch break, and her heart races everytime she gets a notification, hoping that it was from you.

honestly, she doesn't know what she'd say to you. maybe you were busy, or maybe you just chose to ignore her to pay back what she did. (which, honestly, isn't that bad.)

she pouts, staring at the text. still on read.

sana: are you free this weekend?

she asks. in over a record time, you read it and you reply.

y/n: yeah, why?

sana: i was wishing if we could talk over dinner and hopefully i could give your jacket and hoodie back.

y/n: don't bother to return the hoodie.

sana: why?

y/n: i changed my mind. plus, you technically bought it and you just handed it to me as a gift, right?

sana: yes, but what about your jacket?

y/n: i have three of those. that one's already wearing off and it has holes anyways.

you were honest. you do have three of it in similar styles, sana knows of it, doesn't know why, and you don't even know why.

sana: but what about dinner?

y/n: i can cook 🙂

sana pouts, but she knows you're playing with her to get something out.

sana: please. let me treat you out.

y/n: you don't need to. why?

sana: yes, i don't need to, but i want to.

y/n: then?

sana: i’d talk with you.

y/n: aren't we technically talking now?

sana: look, i just want to spend time with you.

y/n: minatozaki, this is leading to nothing.

sana: please let me treat you out to dinner.

y/n: we're going in circles. why?

sana: i need you to hear me out.

y/n: okay.

sana: 6pm. pontios.

y/n: okay. anything else you need to say?

sana: your jacket doesn't have holes.

y/n: just keep it.

sana smiles. it was such a you thing to do, letting her get away with your jackets in her closet. it's the best thing that keeps her warm, wrapped around the similar woody vanilla scent of your perfume.

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

the weekend comes quickly, and you were so exhausted to finish checking and doing what seems like thousands of blueprints in a span of a day. you need to clear your schedule for saturday and sunday to finally get some rest. of course, to also finally meet sana.

it's the time where you'd actually find why she left. why she made you cry. why she moved to new york.

you sighed as you put on your best outfit, and went out just before 6pm. you went to the restaurant to see her already waiting for you in a table closed off from the windows, in a more intimate area of it. you looked around and saw the interior, and you guessed that it's sana's favourite. it had the same mid-century feel to it, but it was more of a diner, and it was very bright with the presence of fluorescent light bulbs.

“did you wait long?” you asked as you looked at your watch as you sat down on the sofa right in front of her.

“not at all,” she flashes you a tight lipped smile. “i arrived a couple of minutes ago.”

“good,” you said as the waiter makes their way to your table. “should we order now?”

“yeah, go on,” she says, handing you a menu. “pick anything you like.”

you just hummed and you flipped the menu to every page. apparently, it was an all day breakfast restaurant. most of the meals only consist of either coffee, pancakes, sausages, fried chicken, bacon, and eggs.

“i’d get the chicken platter, please,” you dictated. “plus a can of coke.”

“i’d get the same.” sana closes her menu as well and hands it over to the waiter with a smile.

“so,” you sighed as you adjusted yourself, leaning back on the cushions of your seat. “what am i even here for, minatozaki?”

“do you really want me to make it quick?” she sighs.

“i thought you were ready?” you scoffed.

“i know what to say, yes,” she said. her eyebrows were already meeting in the middle of her forehead slightly. “where do you want me to start?”

“where do you want to start?” you chuckled.

sana knew you were toying with her with your little repetitive questions. “since you wanna play that way,” sana sighs. “i left because i knew you were gonna propose to me.”

your jaw immediately drops to the floor the moment you heard her, but you tried to pull it back before flies could come in.

sana smiles at your reaction. “i didn't want to reject you, so i chose to leave instead. i thought there was nothing else i could do. it was either to reject you and break your heart like that; or break your heart by leaving and ghosting you.”

“okay,” you breathed and collected your thoughts. “why didn't you tell me that?”

“i'm not a party pooper, y/n,” she joked as the food arrived at your table already. “i didn't want to ruin your surprise either.”

“so you surprised me instead,” you joked, eating a slice from your pancakes. “nice one there, minatozaki.”

she sighs under her breath. it was hard for her to process just how much she hates being called by her last name from you. it used to be so sweet. now it's just plain, boring, and hurtful— like a dull knife piercing right through her stupid little heart.

“what i was trying to say,” you said as you gulped on the cola. “is that why didn't you tell me the day before? there was plenty of time for me to blow up my surprise.”

“yes, but it's your surprise,” she sighs as she takes a bite from her chicken. “it’s foolish if i find it out first when i am the one who'll take the surprise, right?”

you smiled at her, “yes, but what made you think that i’ll look at you and love you differently if you say no?”

“because you were so sure of it.” she says, looking at you right in the eyes. “you don't want your expectations to be broken, and that's the first thing i knew about you when we met. i just couldn't let it happen.”

“i just couldn't let myself see you cry because of me.” she sighs, interlocking her hands together as a relief. you see the tears pool around her eyes as she looks down on her untouched pair of fried chicken and waffles.

“okay.” you just took a bite out of your food once more, ignoring the overwhelming feeling in your chest. “is that all of it?”

she just nodded as she sniffled.

“eat up,” you smiled, quite foolishly and teasingly. “you said you wanted to take me out to dinner, right? it ain't fair if i'm the only one actually having dinner.”

sana chuckles to herself. this was how you usually are, trying to ignore the feelings that come from everything.

“but you made me cry still,” you laughed to yourself as you spoke. “you made me drink, you made me lonely, you made me coop myself up at home when i should be celebrating my birthday, made me think so much where did i go wrong when i remembered that i kissed you to sleep. you made me question everything i did from the start, sana. and at some point, you even made me doubt you.”

you're quite surprised that you're not shedding a single tear. maybe it was the relief of getting the point across to the person that you really want to talk with, and getting the answers you wanted for such a long time.

sana realized that you're awfully kind. it hurts for her to hear that there are nights you spent drinking on your own, thinking about what you could have done to get her back.

you hand her your handkerchief, but you can't bring yourself to dry her tears just yet.

she gladly takes it, and she smiles, finally calming down from the heavy feeling. it soothes her that you never lost yourself, even if she left you clueless.

“i'm sorry, y/n.” sana sighed deeply as she wiped her tears down with the soft cotton of your hanky.

you then chuckled again, “what for? are you leaving me again?”

“no,” sana pouts. “i'm just sorry for everything that hap-”

“it's all in the past,” you smiled again. sana missed seeing that, but she felt that something was lacking. “and your food is getting cold.”

“oh, right,” sana then picks up her cutlery and gets into action. she must've been hungry too. “why are you in new york, though?”

“do you want a stupid answer or a good answer?”

“both.”

“i'm tired of finding girls in seoul,” you joked. “and my, supposed to be, our apartment was rotting so i had to stay. plus, i got a two year contract for building a 35-storey office in manhattan. although it's technically a refurbishment project, since it has so many floors it'll probably take some time.”

“oh, that's why…” she then ate away what she was about to say. she knows you were joking from your first statement, but she can't help but think about it.

“i was too busy finishing my job before i can even party, don't worry about that,” you said. “anyways, why new york though?”

“no one knows me here,” sana says as she chews on her syrup drizzled waffles. “although, i did meet an old friend, no one knows me here.”

“hm, okay,” you just nodded. “and the old friend?”

“mina.” she smiles.

“wait, sorry? mina?”

“yeah!” she says, quite amused at the situation. “i think i told you before that i had a friend that went to the states and grew up here too.”

“hm, yeah you did,” you muffled as you were still eating. “do you know her girlfriend? momo?”

“yeah,” sana nodded. “wait. you know momo?”

you just nodded. “she's a friend from college who moved here immediately after getting a good hire from a famous firm.”

“oh, so you know momo.” she laughed to herself. she just can't believe how small the world is, and she ends up always having to meet you. it just seems to her that you'll always find her.

“do you have like,” you looked at her again as you took a sip from the cola. “a job?”

“oh, yeah,” she smiles. “i work at a company and it's just in soho,” she explains. “what about you?”

“i'm in midtown manhattan,” you said. “it's quite terrifying to get lost in the subways, though.”

“you still work late?”

you just nodded, “of course. i can't avoid it.”

“hm,” sana thinks. you work late. you rarely open the windows. you work at the most exhausting part of new york. she clears her throat. “um, do you have a, like…” she hesitates. it's quite the dumb question to ask if you ghosted someone. “girlfriend or a fling?”

“honestly?” you asked in a sharp tone that gets to her ears so well it makes her heart go faster. “i would love to.” you teased. “but, i'm too busy with work, still very stuck up with this one person and that one person happens to be just in front of me.”

sana just watched you eat away the final bites from your food as you smiled to yourself. she just can't figure it out. you were straightforward back then, and it's the same case up until now.

“what if i'm not here?”

“i'm still going to be very busy though,” you said. “so my thoughts really can't escape beyond what i do for work, and you.”

sana, unbelievably so, blushed. “oh.”

“it's kinda scary and amusing, actually,” you said, reflecting on the past few days, weeks, and months. “it's like i'm just thinking of you. when i'm not thinking about how i’d do my work and evaluate my team’s work, i think about if you already had lunch, or if you got late at work, or if you had your morning coffee— you know, trivial stuff like that which i usually ask you.”

“really?” she then beams, the situation making her overly happy. “i, um,” she calms herself down and breathes deep before saying, “think of that too. if you're pissed off because you don't have the right pencil to draw with, or if you got your favorite coffee, what did you eat for breakfast, what do you wanna eat for lunch… stuff like that fills my mind all the time.”

you just nodded. you don't know what to feel about it. you don't even know what to feel about anything that's happening right now. it seems like you really needed her in front of you to explain what she did, but a part of you thinks that this isn't enough. a part of you was still doubtful of it, but a part of you wants to just engulf her in your hug, knowing just how much she hid from you.

she had every right to be scared. you just don't know how she had the heart to leave.

“when i left,” sana sits back on the couch again, sighing deeply. “i don't want you to pity me or anything, honestly i want you to be super angry at me,” she joked. “i hesitated. i didn't like imagining how you'd lose yourself, get drunk, find another girl,” she emits a weary breath. “but then, i flew here and lived by myself as i promised, ignored your calls, your texts— just to find myself still listening to your voice at night, looking at the photos of us to relive those moments that i had with you. i was so stupid.”

“you are,” you said. “but i can't be mad at you.”

“why?”

“i just can't deny the fact that i have a lot of love in my heart for you that it consumes any other feeling that i have in me,” you explained. “i’m fine with it now since you admitted to yourself. i'm sorry too if i got too ahead, sana.”

“you don't need to be.” she smiles. “you were just expecting the obvious.”

“why did you get scared of it, though?”

“i know that you'll treat me right, but there are so many doubts that i had,” she pondered. “but it's mostly on my part. i didn't like seeing myself not being able to commit to you. i hated that at some point, i’ll be the one to leave, so i left before anything worse can happen.”

“okay,” you sighed. “what do you wanna do now?”

sana softly laughs, “ah, well,” she looks down on her food again. “i honestly want to win you back.”

“i'm not a trophy, sana,” you joked. “but then, if that's what you want,” you looked at her, that feeling of spark rising within you as she let her honey brown eyes meet yours. “i’d let you do it. it's not going to be easy though.”

“i know,” sana murmured. “and i'm gonna try my very best.”

you laughed, seeing the determination that rises in her— cheeks flushed, eyes sparkly, just like how you remembered her. “good luck.”

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

that night was the first time you slept well without alcohol, and sana, as you saw from across the window, slept on the couch comfortably as she watched her favorite tv show. (you bet that she finished the series already, and that she's only rewatching it.)

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

the morning comes and someone comes knocking at your door, calling your full government name like you're getting arrested for tax fraud.

“yeah, wait,” you rub your eyes, trying to get all the morning dust out of the way. you opened to see sana, smiling like she was the sun. “oh, hi.”

“hello,” she sing-songed. “i just wanted to drop by,” she handed you over a bag. you wondered, one of your eyebrows lifting as you held it. “breakfast. your favorite,” she chuckled as she pats down the stray hair from your sleep. “eat well.”

“nice,” you chuckled, prying the bag open. “have you eaten already?”

“uh, yeah,” she said, nervously palming the back of her neck. “i'm about to go now, actually.”

“are you sure? this is a lot,” you smiled, seeing the big container of your favorite breakfast. “you know i don't eat that much.”

“you know what,” sana laughs. “just tell me if you wanna eat with me.”

“i have extra plates, come on,” you respond, letting her in your apartment. she was resisting at first, stepping away from the door, but then, you showed her the best puppy eyes that she'll always fall for, and she's trapped when you said, “please.”

“okay,” she smiles and comes inside your apartment, leaving her shoes by the step before going in. “looks warm here.”

“hm,” you nodded, taking out the big container out of the bag. “you really cooked, huh.” you saw that it really was your favourite breakfast, one with fried rice, eggs, and spam. it was a simple meal you always shared with her in your apartment before you went to work.

you move to pull out a chair for her, and you get the cutlery from your kitchen. “do you want coffee?”

“yeah, that'll be nice,” she smiles. she doesn't know how weird it feels how you easily go into the routine that you had when you two were still together. it was always like this, your back facing her as you were busy in the kitchen, making sure that her breakfast is great, and that she'll start her day as great as possible. “can i have it i-”

“iced, three pumps of cream, and vanilla.” you recite as you run your espresso machine. “i still don't know how you like your coffee so sweet.”

“well, thanks for remembering that,” sana laughs, glad to know that you still question the amount of sugar to coffee ratio on her drink. “how about you? still a shot of espresso, a pump of creamer, and iced?”

you nodded, funnily so. you didn't expect that you've spent that much time with sana that she knows you, down to your littlest, mundane, and absurd routines.

you smiled at her as you made way to the table, sitting across her like you usually do. for a while, you forget that sana ghosted you for months.

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

to say that you were sana's love of her life was an understatement. seeing you again, like this, eating your favorite breakfast after not reaching out to you for months makes her throat and eyes burn. it's ridiculous of her to let you live alone, to let you be deprived of her love.

it continues, you two fall back into a simple routine.

sana spends the mornings with breakfast she makes at the crack of dawn and you two share, you fix yourself as sana waits, and you get unexpectedly early at your office.

during the afternoons, you have coffee that she bought in hand, something she's been weirdly doing every now and then, even dropping by to your office. during the night, she fetches you, saying that: “it's gonna be a waste of energy if you go home by the subway, we're literally living across each other.”

occasionally, and during the weekends, sana, if time permits, takes you to restaurants, bars, or parks to ease your mind. new york was huge, and you're surprised she knows it down to a t, and to it's hidden spots.

──⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆──

she knows that the schedule of yours was very hectic. she dreads that more as you spend less time with her, since recently as you held the ground-breaking for the site.

“it was a mini project that they didn't tell me about,” you munched on the churros she bought you before you sat down on one of the steps facing the vast, winding hudson river. “and you know, it made me much busier than i am.”

“you need a raise,” sana laughs. “and 20 leaves.”

“they're giving me a raise,” you laugh as well, finally easing up. “so yeah, but i still became more busy.”

sana sighs as she stares off at the sight. the skyline of new york fades away as the sun starts to set, and the lights of the buildings slowly turn on.

it was a moment. it reminded you that you needed time, whether productive or not.

you just needed time.

“sana,” you then looked at her. “what do you think about coming back together?”

“what do you mean?” sana nervously laughs. she didn't expect for you to say it sooner. it's only been two months since you started reconciling.

“us,” your eyes stared at her honey brown ones like they're the only things you've ever known. “look, i just-”

“i realized that i can’t go a day without you,” you sighed in relief as you then held both of her hands, saying your truth. “i figured that i was thinking too ahead, and i didn't give you time and i ruined that for us. i'm sorry-”

sana then pulls you into a warm, loving hug, “you don't need to be. i'm the one who left, right?”

“yeah, bu-”

“i'm the one who left,” she repeats, trying to sink those words into your head. “and i think i'm not trying my best getting you back just yet.”

“but you are,” you whispered. “i just want you to call me yours again, please.”

“god,” sana lowly chuckled as she ran a hand behind your back, comforting you. “you don't know how much i've been waiting for this, my love.”

you sinked your head into her neck, trying to suppress your feelings as you heard that one phrase you've wanted to hear from her for months. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” sana then kisses your forehead gently as you close your eyes, savoring this little moment in time with her. “i hope i could prove that every day.”

“you don't need to,” you held her hand again and kissed it. “just stay by my side. it'll be enough.”

sana held your cheek with her hand, soft against the surface of it, as she brushed her thumb below your eyelid, something she always does like a little habit. “okay,” she comes closer to meet her forehead with yours, and locks your lips as you two share a longing, electrifying kiss. she smiles, lips inward as you pull away. “i waited for that, too.”

“well, that's just fair.” you then held her hand as she wrapped her arm on your shoulders, letting you lean onto her. you two stared off at the view, just admiring the warmth of the sunset before it gets cold during the night.

“and i’ll always wait,” sana whispered. “i won't get tired.”

you then smiled, now holding the hand that was on your shoulder as you stared off the river in a comforting silence. “as long as you're with me,” you then looked at her. “i won't mind taking time and waiting.”

#twice imagines #twice fluff #twice angst #sana imagines #sana fluff #sana angst

244 notes · View notes