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hiraethwrote · 3 months ago

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A TICKET IN YOUR NAME

pairing : tobio kageyama x f!reader summary : the charity auction you're in charge of is closing in, and there's still a ticket reserved in his name. your executives are on your neck about wanting a clear answer if the pro player will be able to attend - with no regards for the fact that you broke up three months ago cw : pro player!kageyama, break up, post-timeskip, reader wears a dress, angst, bittersweet, heavy yearning, regret, slight profanity, lowkey self indulgent lol, no use of y/n word count : 5.8k

“Kageyama? Hey, it’s me.”

A ray of cold ran down his spine as your all too familiar voice rang in his ear, tearing painfully at his heart from the first syllable. God, how he had missed those melodic vibrations he now only heard in his dreams.

When the unknown number popped up on his phone screen, his first instinct was to let it go straight to voicemail. But for whatever reason, the voice in the back of his mind told him he should pick it up — he definitely didn’t expect to be greeted with the unforgettable tone of your voice, causing his heart to bang against its cage.

And you had called him Kageyama, instantly pulling out the amateur stitching he had applied to the tears in his heart.

It made him feel a little sick, his last name sounding foreign on your tongue. You never did that, because he hadn’t allowed it. When it came to you, he wanted to be close, intimate, especially since distance came so naturally to all of his relationships. And one thing that separated you from the rest, you called him Tobio.

Or you used to.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything-“

“No,” he said a little too quickly. “No, you’re good.”

“I’m just gonna cut to the chase-“ the sentence came to an abrupt halt when he swore he heard you take a sharp breath, as if you had to contain deep emotions that threatened to overtake your sense of calm. “Management keep bugging me about your ticket for the charity auction.”

“Right,” he said it so quietly he wasn’t entirely sure the microphone picked it up.

“I don’t even know if you’re in town then,” lie — a complete and utter fabrication to try and convince him, but also yourself, that you weren’t still hung up on the past — like you didn’t have his schedule for the next seven months logged into your phone, knowing very well he was in fact still available that evening. “But the ticket is still reserved in your name, and I promised my executives I would provide them with a clear answer if you were attending or not.” Again you cut yourself off, a shaky breath traveling the line, something he had learned long ago was a clear indicator that you were fighting back tears. “Told them I’d have an answer by the end of the week.”

Of course he hadn’t forgotten about the auction — you had stressed about it for months even before you broke up, being in charge of putting the whole event together. The red circle in his calendar marking the date kept coming closer and closer, and he had wondered if you would reach out to ask about it — now he had his answer.

“I’m in town,” he muttered simply, closing his eyes as he just waited for your voice to return.

“Look, I don’t want to pressure you into attending or anything. If it’ll make you uncomfortable, I’m sure I’ll figure something out-“

“It won’t make me uncomfortable.” He was a little surprised by how soft his voice came out, but it was true — he would never be uncomfortable around you. “Next Saturday, right?”

“You remembered?”

“Got it circled.”

“Figured.” Silence swallowed the conversation, and it felt so unnatural. It was only with you he was able to engage in a conversation that flowed like a peaceful stream. He had been deprived of that privilege for so long, and his strangling feelings were slowly piling up inside him, weighing heavy on his heart.

He could picture you so clearly, down to the smallest detail. Right now you were probably sat behind your desk in your office, resting your forehead in the palm of your hand. And if he was still able to interpret your behaviour correctly, simply based on your tone, he suspected there were salty pools welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill over any second.

At this hour, you were probably left alone in the company building, everyone else having gone home already. And he pictured you were longing to go home too, so you could change out of the boring corporate attire he knew you hated with a fiery passion. The second you were to set foot inside your apartment, you would walk straight for your closet to put on your favourite slacks — maybe, if you hadn’t thrown them out already, you would wear his old hoodie as well. “They feel like home,” you always used to say before melting into the piece of clothing that was too big for you.

It was most likely a naive fantasy, but Tobio liked to toy with the image nonetheless.

You stole his attention from his spiralling when you sighed, shifting the entire tension of the conversation into something more serious, deprived from emotion. “Black tie event. Prepare for press, the company won’t be shy about any notable names. Pro player Kageyama Tobio is one of those names. Just let me know where you’re staying, and we’ll send a car to take you to the location.”

The business voice had taken the phone call hostage, barely recognising the voice on the other end of the line. The only time you used it for not work related occasions was when you were mad at him...

“Great, thank you.”

A beat of silence. “Again, sorry to bother you. I know it’s late.”

“It’s fine. You couldn’t… bother me.”

It felt awkward now. The ice was broken, the no-contact had failed, and now neither of you wanted to let go despite not being able to find any words to feed the conversation.

For a split second Tobio was overcome with courage, having to clear his throat before he opened his mouth, “hey, how are you-“

“I’ll see you next Saturday.” His attempt was shut down instantly, rushing to hang up after blurting out your goodbyes.

Your phone hit the desk with an obnoxious rattle before your hands came flying to cover your face, aggressive sobs tumbling past your lips.

Even though you missed him, his voice, the comfort he provided, you just did not have the strength it required to indulge in casual conversation with him. It hurt too much.

Time heals all wounds — what a load of bullshit, because here you sat, three months after the most earth shattering heartbreak you had ever experienced and it still served as an aching gash in your life.

Since that horrid night, you had delved head first into work to distract yourself as best as you could. It had been a privilege to be able to fill your time so you could ignore dealing with the issue at hand — a privilege you had taken for granted as your sobs filled the vacant space of your lonely office.

In less than two weeks, you would be forced to look him in the eyes again. You had to paint your face with a smile, smother your sorrows for the sake of the company as he was expected to stay at your side for the evening.

You weren’t sure you’d be able to pull this one ashore after all.

As promised, a fancy black car had pulled up exactly at the time you had texted him.

The entire car ride was spent in a one sided conversation, where the driver tried to initiate polite small talk only to be met with quiet sounds that barely confirmed Tobio was even listening.

He was too busy trying to plant his feet back on the ground, nerves traveling his body from head to toe. Every ten seconds he tilted his head to check his phone just in case you had sent him any further information about tonight that he needed to be aware of. He was left disappointed every time when there never appeared a notification with your name attached.

Sooner rather than later, flashing lights surrounded the car and he knew they had reached the destination.

This was a part of the job he had never gotten used to, and some part of him would probably always struggle with the attention that came with his career path.

Reluctantly stepping out of the car, he braced himself for the overwhelming noice of the press shouting to grab is attention.

It was only so much his PR training sufficed. He would wave awkwardly, try to smile and present himself as nicely as possible so his managers wouldn’t be on his neck about the bad impression he’d given off — but no amount of training was able to calm his nerves.

Only you did that.

Whenever he had to make public appearances, you were the one to help his feet back on the ground and remind him it wasn’t scary. You would lace your fingers with his, gently press your body against his side with such grace. And you would look at him, your eyes whispering quiet affirmations; you’re doing great, okay? I’m with you every step of the way.

Deprived of your safety, he was overthinking every move he did. Was it obvious how fake the small tilt of his lips were? Who was he kidding, they probably didn’t even see what was his attempt at a smile. Was the outfit okay? Had he picked out the wrong outfit, showing up underdressed to your special night? No, he had purposely chosen a safe option, one he knew you liked. Was his steps towards the entrance too slow? No wait, shit- now he was walking too fast.

He couldn’t be too sure he had been able to pull off the image his managers wanted, but he had at least gotten himself through the doors of the venue.

He had no time to react before he was approached by a neatly dressed individual with a clipboard in her hands. “Mr. Kageyama? Follow me.”

Croaking a quiet ‘okay’, Tobio didn’t know what else to do than do as she said, eventually ending up in a secluded, yet spacious hallway. There were only a few people scattered about, all seemingly rather busy.

Then his eyes landed on a familiar frame that he would recognise any time and any place, forever burned into his memory. Your bare back facing him, phone to your ear as frustration pulled your shoulders high.

Everything else seemed to disappear when he heard your voice, “no, no, it’s supposed to be four-“ you spun around, and the sentence died instantly once your eyes automatically locked with his.

He fell for the temptation, trying to be as subtle as possible as he let his eyes travel you up and down. You were breathtaking, all dolled up in a floor length, satin gown in deep maroon. There was a shy slit in your skirt, and your exposed arms were decorated with the prettiest jewlery.

But what had his breath catch in his throat was the familiar pendant resting right on the centre of your chest — the dainty necklace he recognised as his gift for you for your first anniversary.

“Mr. Kageyama, as requested,” the stranger said before hurrying away to attend other tasks.

“Just… I trust you’ll be able you fix it,” you spoke softly into the phone before hanging up, never breaking eye contact.

He swallowed the lump in his throat that had formed the moment he had seen you again, “hey.”

“Hi,” you said weakly, your nerves driving you to pull at your own fingers. The action captured his eyes which instantly had you hide your hands behind your back. You knew all too well what was running through his mind at the moment, having a nearly primal desire to interrupt it.

One could cut the tension with a knife, thick and suffocating, with so many lingering feelings resting in the prolonged eye contact.

You reached within yourself, closing your eyes for a second to force away your uneasiness. Once they opened, and met his again, all evidence of previous sentiments were gone and replaced with business. Your shoulders lowered slightly, arms moving in front of you again and your entire stance straightening with a newfound sense of confidence.

“Great! You picked a good outfit,” was the nicest compliment you were able to pay him without completely succumbing to the sadness that was walking a fine line, ready to overtake you at any second. “It’s perfect for the evening.”

He tilted his head forward bashfully to hide the small smirk of amusement that formed at his lips because he knew you were being modest in your observations. It wasn’t unintentional that he’d put on the all black, three piece suit you had helped him purchase when he was first signed.

It seemed like a lifetime ago now, but he remembered how you had gladly joined him when he was in such a desperate need for a formal wear he could pull out on special occasions. He would never forget how your lips had parted and eyes widened when he came out in that suit, unable to peer your eyes off of him. He’d watched as you had actively swallowed the lump in your throat before nodding in approval, rather enthusiastically.

“Glad to hear it,” he sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You look great, by the way. But that’s no surprise.”

For a split second your front wavered with a weak smile. You wouldn’t allow the fragility to settle — you could not afford that tonight, of all nights.

You spun on your heel, walking down the hall in the opposite direction. Tobio didn’t hesitate to follow.

“They’re opening the doors for the other guests very soon, and in roughly twenty minutes I have to go up on stage to welcome everyone. The auction will start shortly after that.” You stopped abruptly outside a huge door, nearly causing him to crash into you. Resting your hand on the handle, he watched how it clenched around the metal. “I’ll find you after. You’re technically still my da-… my plus one.”

Without sparing him another look, you simply opened the door and entered the ballroom, leaving the word ‘date’ hang unfinished in the air.

How had the two of you gotten to this point?

His future used to be so clear — he saw his entire life headed in a direction he had never dared to dream of, based on the fear of its unlikelihood. You brought safety and comfort to his life, which had grown somewhat turbulent after garnering some fame within the world of athletes — no matter how things turned out, it would be okay, because he still had you.

But now he had to control how he didn’t let his gaze linger for too long, because it could be crossing a boundary that previously didn’t exist. He had to hold his tongue so he didn’t bombard you with all the affection he still had for you, because that wasn’t his job anymore.

Slowly but surely, the ballroom started to fill up with an assortment of characters, all ready to spend their money on the extravagant auction. Tobio found himself standing awkwardly in the same spot you left him, along the outskirts of the growing crowd, feeling beyond uncomfortable.

And though he knew he should mingle, all he was able to do was let his eyes follow you when you eventually made your way onto the stage. The music came to a slow stop, the crowd calmed down and everyone’s eyes were on you.

To everyone else, you probably seemed in control of yourself, confident even — but Tobio was still able to read you like a book, rarely having seen you as nervous as right now. Your smile was bright, but very clearly forced as your eyes roamed the audience frantically.

Suddenly you looked at him, meeting his eyes that were always so soft — a feature that somehow always caught you a little by surprise. He was often so stoic, his eyebrows always just slightly tilted in a frown. But his eyes betrayed his cold exterior, conveying a tenderness you had never really seen in anyone else.

With the familiar safety of his gaze, your breathing evened out and shoulders relaxed, which he noticed. He flashed you a small smile before giving you a reassuring nod, telling you there was nothing to be scared of — because after everything, he would still catch you if you were to fall.

Exhaling deeply, you started the welcome speech, your smile now genuine. He followed every single word that fell from your lips with immense professionalism, and every once in a while when your eyes found him in order to ground yourself, his heart would skip a beat.

“Once again, thank you all for attending and I hope you all enjoy the evening.” The crowd erupted into polite applause while you walked down from the stage gracefully.

“You did great,” Tobio breathed as you had joined him again.

“Thank god,” you sighed. “That speech has kept me awake all week.”

“No, it was good. Very professional.” You turned to look at him, a beautiful smile painting your lips as old habits steered your hand for his face.

When you realised what you were about to do, your face fell, hand freezing inches before making contact with his cheek. In all the stress of being up on that stage with everyone’s eyes glued on you, you had forgotten the nerves caused by your ex boyfriend.

It had just come so naturally to you, to caress his cheek. It was a gesture you always did whenever he would come with one of his simple compliments.

“Sorry,” you whispered, quickly retracting your hand.

“No, no, it’s okay,” he stuttered sadly. Tobio had held his breath from the moment he’d noticed your hand raise from your side.

He had frozen still once he realised what was about to happen in hopes that if he didn’t move, you would continue in your trance and he’d eventually feel your flesh pressed against his face. He’d been deprived of the sensation for so long, and he was left disappointed when the feeling never arrived.

Was this how the evening was going to play out? Standing beside each other for hours in an awkward and unnatural silence, both too scared to do anything in fear of offending the other?

Tobio wanted to say something, but small talk had never been his strong suit — that was always your area of expertise, fill the void with chatter so no one was left feeling uncomfortable.

“You planning to bid on anything?” It was as if you had been able to read his mind, saving him from his ever spiralling mind.

“No, not really,” he said simply. “You?”

He turned to look at you, feeling a sense of relief as you let out a small snicker, observing how the auction was about to start.

“I may be in charge of this entire thing, but that doesn’t mean I have the money to get any of the things they’ve put up,” you sighed. “That trip to the Maldives looking really good right now, though.”

For a split second, Tobio heavily considered putting all his money on that trip for you. He imagined being able to walk beside you along the crystal blue shores of the Maldives, peace and relaxation washing over you to the point where you would finally have the time to take proper breaths.

But it was but a mere dream, only a reality in the depths of his mind where he was allowed to fantasise that you were still his.

For the next three hours, you stood side by side as you witnessed all the luxuries items being auctioned off one by one. Every once in a while you would shoot a casual comment in hopes it would lighten the looming cloud that hung over you — it remained persistent.

It didn’t go unnoticed, how the tension in your shoulders never completely evaporated. Even when your bosses came to shower you with praise for all the hard work you’d done, or when you were updated on the insane sum of money that would be donated, your shoulders remained permanently raised half an inch.

He could only suspect it was his presence that caused the strain. Maybe it had been a bad idea of him to attend.

In hindsight he could see how it was nothing short of selfish — because what other reason for attending would he have than only wanting to see you again? He didn’t serve any more purpose than decoration. His name wasn’t even among the most noticeable, so it wasn’t like he brought any more traction to the event than it already had.

Maybe it would be best if he just bolted, let you be able to enjoy what could be considered your evening. You should be proud, celebrate the success of your hard work.

As the auction had slowly evolved into a party, several pairs had decided to move along to the beautiful rhythm that filled the ballroom. Tobio would shoot shy glances towards you, spotting how you were staring longingly at the dance floor.

“You want to dance?”

“What?”

Shit — he hadn’t meant to blurt it out. He genuinely thought the question simply floated in his mind to entertain his fantasy. Seemed like his subconscious had more power than he thought when the words slipped past his lips.

And now you were stood ogling him in shock, arms wrapped around yourself as you were visibly trying to comprehend his question.

He cleared his throat, trying to find the confidence he used to have with you once upon a time. “Would you like to dance?” He asked again, voice steadier than he would have anticipated.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you considered his request. “Okay,” you whispered, his heart skipping a beat.

This was not the time to let his confidence waver, offering his elbow like a gentleman, holding his breath as he waited for you to hook your arm with his.

Stood in the middle of the dance floor facing each other, you tried to calm your rapid breathing as you waited for him to take the lead.

With slight hesitation you placed your right hand on his shoulder. And it seemed like he picked up on the reluctance in your movements, because his right hand grabbed a hold of yours to have it stretched out — reminding you how big they were compared to yours.

But when you felt his left hand make contact with your bare back, you couldn’t help but draw a sharp breath, igniting memories you had so sorely tried to forget.

In the dead of night, when it seemed like the two of you were the only people left in the world, he would place his lips tenderly along your back, pulling soft giggles from you as his breath tickled you when it brushed against your skin.

And now his warm hand was resting within the ghost of those kisses, reminding you not only of the private and intimate moments shared together, but also just how gentle he was with you.

To say Tobio was a little rough around the edges was an understatement. He could definitely be crass, tone bordering on cruel when talking to someone, despite having no ill intentions whatsoever. His face was nearly permanently stamped with a frown, seemingly always in a bad mood to the untrained eye.

The Tobio people saw on court was also ruthless. Always giving it his all, whether if it was his calculated sets or his powerful serves — he never showed his opponents mercy.

But the second a match was over, and he was reunited with you, all edge seemed to disappear. Same strong hands that had recently performed fiercely on the court, would now cup your face with utmost care while you shied away from prying eyes.

Same tender touch was pressed lovingly against your back in this very moment — and it felt so safe. The security he always supplied in his embrace came to show so easily. Taking care of you was second nature to him, even now after everything.

“Never known you to be a dancer,” you said carefully as he started to take the lead, moving surprisingly graciously along to the music.

“I’m full of surprises,” he dared to joke with the faintest smirk.

“Never known you to be a guy of surprises either,” you quipped, having his smirk stretch a little wider.

He turned to scan the other couples, leaving you to just admire him.

He really was beautiful, and he didn’t even seem to be the slightest bit aware of the fact. When going about his day, he never brought attention to himself so it was easy to forget — until it struck you like lightning from clear skies, suddenly and all at once.

“You’ve outdone yourself tonight,” he breathed, shifting his attention back to your face. It caught you off guard, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment, scared he caught you in your admiration.

“You really think so?”

“Definitely. I’m really impressed.” Again you had his heart skip a beat, when for the first time this evening, you flashed him a wide and genuine grin.

“Thank you.”

“Then again-“ he began, a little scared to continue when you raised your eyebrows in curiosity. “You’ve always been impressive.”

Finally your stress released. Your shoulders lowered and you relaxed in his arms, a softness in your features he had been waiting to reunite with.

This was Tobio — the person you had shared countless conversations about all and nothing with, who knew you inside out. There wasn’t any reason for it to be uncomfortable. Why not make the best out of the situation?

“Volleyball’s going great, I hear,” you breathed, a newfound, though a little unsteady, contentment in your voice.

He nodded slowly, “yeah, you could say that,” a shameless smile of pride curling his lips upwards.

“Bet you can see the end of the road to being the best, now?”

“Staring to spot it,” he mused, acting a lot more humble than you were used to.

“Only Oikawa ahead of you now. Heard he’s still considered to be a remarkable setter-“

“Oh, shut up,” he said with a roll of the eyes, your words trailing into soft giggles.

“You know I’m just kidding. I’ve known you to be the best all along,” you said softly, slowly melting into his embrace more and more by the second.

And by the way he was looking at you right now, with a sense of safety that would always make you feel some sort of belonging, no matter what, you’d never be entirely lost when with Tobio.

It seemed like he felt it too. So many shared moments was coming back to him when being allowed to gaze into your eyes again, especially after all this time — he was scared he might end up spiralling if he let himself sink too deep in the familiar comfort of you.

You couldn’t help but flinch when he broke the eye contact, clearing his throat when he once again observed the surrounding crowd. “Do you think…”

“Do I think what?”

“Do you think they’ll write about this?” He scoffed, nodding in the direction of the not so subtle press who had very clearly been snapping pictures of you.

You shrugged. “I’m not worried,” you breathed, “we were never really public enough to be prolific, were we?”

The soft sound of your nervous chuckle drew his attention right back to you. He shouldn’t be too surprised that something as simple as the sound of your laugh and the twinkle in your eye could threaten to have him fall back in again — he knew he was weak. He felt it every day, with every beat of his heart, how it pulled at him to return to you.

You were dangerous that way, both to him and yourself. Your eyes would always betray you when they were staring at him, your devotion clear as day. It was always simmering just below the surface no matter how far apart you were.

“Besides, I mean, I am really just some nobody working behind the scenes in some big company. I’m no one really cares about-“

A frustrate groan shot past his teeth, spotting how his eyebrows narrowed in the angle he so often sported. “You’ve never been a nobody.” He drew a breath, a distinctly sharp one, his lips drawing in a thin line as he churned what words to say next. “You’re more than a nobody. You’re more than a somebody. You matter. You’re the only one who matters.” His voice was stern, but surprisingly calm — which only made it worse.

You couldn’t wrap your head around how he managed to serve such insanely deep and powerful declaration as it was nothing. It was like he had no idea what kind of weight his words carried, no regard for what impact it might have on you.

And there was a very simple explanation to that — because to him it was nothing. It was just the truth, which always came easy to him.

He noticed the inner corners of your eyebrows tighten, painting your face with sorrow as the corner of your lips drooped south.

“There were reasons, right? Reasons we broke up?” He asked carefully. As his volume lowered, he tilted his head forward, bringing him so painfully close.

Your sad eyes flittered between his, his crystal pools of blue that always enforced the intensity of his messages, and you began to think.

When you could feel his love still pulsating off of him, and his slightly calloused thumb sending sparks throughout your body as it subconsciously moved back and forth in soft swipes along your spine, it was hard to remember any one reason for why things ended at all.

“Yeah,” you sighed solemnly, nodding slowly, “yeah, I’m sure there was.”

The deep breath he took brushed against your face, and you had to swallow the little sob that harboured deep in your throat. “Do you miss it?”

You instantly knew what he really asked — did you miss him — the real meaning wasn’t hard to deduce, Tobio had always been horrible at hiding his real intentions.

“Sure, some days more than others,” your voice cracked slightly. It was only for a faint second, but it flashed across his face how it wasn’t necessarily the answer he wanted, a hint of anger threatening to scrunch his face. But it evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. “It’s not easy, if that’s what you’re really asking.”

“You see right through me, huh?” It sounded as he was attempting to pull the mood up, but when there was no rise in his tone nor an optimistic twitch in his expression, he failed miserably.

“Well, still know you better than I know myself.”

Silence fell between you, still letting the safety of his arms guide you along to the symphonies that filled the ballroom. You were so close to falling in, completely surrender to the serenity you knew would come over you if you just gave in.

“You know, if there was something I did, I am really sor-“

“Can we pretend?” You cut him off. “Just for tonight, can we just forget everything and pretend?”

His lips parted in surprise. Your antsy nerves creeped back into your body when he slowly pulled back, certain he would turn the request down.

And he knew he should. In a matter of seconds, the healing you’d both gone through up until this point would be undone. But he wasn’t strong enough, especially after having been at war with that antagonising devil on his shoulder all night. With your request egging it on, he was going to let it win.

“Okay,” he whispered, straightening his posture.

With the blink of an eye, you had turned it all off. A smile adorned your lips before simply inching closer to rest your cheek against his chest, reunited with the sound of his heartbeat that you were so used to falling asleep too.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him rest his cheek on the crown of your head, his limbs squeezing you just a little tighter, as if it was somehow going to prevent you from slipping away when the evening came to a close.

You had expected it to pick up its pace, beat like a hummingbird — but it was steady.

Maybe his heart was finally beating steady, after stuttering in his chest for months, lost as it tried to find back to its purpose. And now it had been reunited with it, instantly recognising the euphoria and quickly settling into its supposed rhythm.

Bittersweet — that was how it felt. You were allowing yourself to completely bask in the comfort of Tobio. You hadn’t felt such contentment and rest since the split, and it felt nice to breathe calmly for once.

But he was still your ex, and it would come to an end eventually, again going your separate ways.

Those were sorrows for tomorrow.

You allowed yourself to dance with him, your tears quietly wetting the fabric of his jacket until the evening came to an end.

Looming in the shadow of the auctions success was a sight no one had expected to see.

She’s the cute face behind the whole event, having worked countless hours to pull it all together for it to turn out the way it did, and it’s safe to assume she is probably thrilled with the sum they were able to rake in for the sake of a good cause.

However, you’re probably reading her name and finding it awfully familiar — but you can’t seem to understand why; there’s no reason for you to know the name of some random employee at a big shot company. The name probably rings a bell because she is better known as the ex girlfriend of star player Kageyama Tobio, seemingly home in Japan for a visit. Was the reason for his unexpected return solely to attend the big evening of a special ex-someone?

During their time together, they rarely made headlines as they were notorious for keeping their relationship private. But once the handsome Ali Roma setter became available, people were quick to show their interest.

Though we were not lucky enough to be of attendance at the charity auction, we’ve gotten our hands on exclusive pictures from the night. Not only were they spotted together for the majority of the evening, these photos show they didn’t seem shy when sharing a rather intimate moment on the dance floor.

One can start to speculate if the corporate sweetheart has once again swooned the sought after Kageyama.

Fret not, because we got a rare statement from the woman of the hour, and she says : “I have nothing but respect and adoration for Kageyama, but-“

Tobio shut the magazine, unable to finish the article.

tags : @hiraethwa ﾉ @shouyuus (hope you dont mind i added you love)

an : dedicated to tobio nation <3 lets go with the angst, it is obvi what i love. idk if you guys picked it up, but to me it's sooooo clear where my writers block started to disappear lol comments and reblogs is much appreciated

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tootoomanycats · 4 months ago

Text

Hi.

I think it’s a travesty that Gil-Galad has barely a crumb of fanfics or even head canons.

So I’m working on something to add to that sexy, sassy, big boy’s fandom.

I definitely have a type, and it’s men who have their shit together, have goals and a very good sense of self control but are pent up…so I can watch them snap.

This is rough draft, unedited and just thrown down to keep my idea going but dang nabbit, the thirsty folks deserve a drink!

I present the first teaser for *drum roll*

The Plan

UPDATE: 1/27/2025 First chapter has been posted HERE!

Desperation pushed you to find the guest quarters and put distance between the High King and yourself. After what you just did, you can’t look him in the eye, gods you don’t want look yourself in the eye.

Dammit, was that the same door with a potted plant you passed a few minutes ago? You were going in circles, fast pacing, and red faced from embarrassment. He knew, he had to know you were lost and still Gil-Galad followed while offering no help in your escape from him.

“How long shall I expect you to hide away this time? I was under the impression that it was too precious to waste-being as short as it is.” Gil-Galad knew that his words were sharp, their sarcasm laced like a blade with poison. He could feel his pride pulsing like an open wound after what you just did. Emotions raw from weeks of you seesawing both towards and away from him.

“How dare you!” Came your rage in a whispered hiss, spinning on your heels to glare at the tall elf who followed behind so closely.

How dare he?

Gil-Galad could feel his neck heat as the temperance of his frustration grew. He was not the one disillusioned from reality. “I believe the offense is mine to have. For I was not the one to run and cower after you kis-“

“Shush! Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

Not once in the entirety of his life time, centuries long that it was, has anyone ever dared to ‘shush’ him. His posture straightened, the tips of his ears faintly hued red as frustration turned to insult.

“First you run is cowardice from your own actions, now you not only refuse to acknowledge them but have the gall to shush me?” He glared from where he stood, watching as each word cut through your panic and your eyes shamefully turned to the ground.

Gil-Galad’s pride raged like that of a wounded beast trapped behind the bars of well trained control. Had he not been kind in taking in you and your small group? Housed and feed you, treated the wounded and sick to health, all to see your worries lessen?

He had no expectation of receiving anything in return, other than a thank you for the kindness- which you and your small group had given ample times over. Nor was no expectation to have the fluttering feeling of attraction reciprocated, his only hope was to continue the friendship he enjoyed in your company.

But he did not deserve the inconsistencies of your actions and words. Spinning his minds thoughts and hopes in circles that dizzied and confused. So many times you flirted back, even flirting boldly at him, flustering him. How much he had held self control in his desires to reach out to you, feel the grasp of your hand in his. Even for you lean on him when sitting together.

Just moments ago when you kissed him so tenderly, he had been frozen, his mind trying to confirm what he had hoped for had finally come true. But before he could reciprocate the action, you fled. No more. He could take this no more.

Update post for this story here -----> Update 10/17/24

Update #2 for this story here ----➡️ Update 12/26/24

#gil galad #ereinion gil galad #gil galad x reader #Gil-galad x you #Gil galad fanfic #Gil-galad smut #rings of power #rings of powerful

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ceesimz · 10 months ago

Text

Our Sun Is Setting

TW: mentions of homophobia and grief for a parent. It's quite a heavy fic, please keep that in mind.

"I told my Mami about you today."

You didn't think it was possible for a relatively normal, short sentence over the phone to make you feel sick to the pit of your stomach, but it did.

"Oh." That was all you managed.

Your mind was in overdrive as you stood in the middle of the grocery store, buying ingredients for the dinner you were preparing for later that evening when Alexia was going to come over. Any other person would have reacted better, wouldn't have been frozen to the tiles of the shop in the middle of the breakfast aisle, wouldn't have been on the brink of a panic attack from a simple statement.

"She was very happy. And she would like to meet you soon, whenever you like."

Another punch to the gut.

"She also teased me for talking about you so much. I couldn't stop myself." Alexia paired her words with a shy laugh.

The sound of it grounded you slightly as you moved out of the way of an old couple walking in your direction, but your head was still being insistently ruthless as you wandered mindlessly through the rest of the shop. Alexia was still talking over the line, seemingly not noticing your silence, but you couldn't work out what she was saying due to the unbearable ringing in your ears.

You were in shock.

"Are you still there?"

"Y-yeah, sorry. I think the signal went a bit weird, I didn't catch much of what you said." You reply in a shaking voice.

On the other side of the phone, Alexia frowns ever so slightly - she can almost sense something is wrong, but she can't quite figure out what or why. She hopes that when she sees you later, you are perhaps feeling better or if not, at least she's there for you.

"Okay cariño, would it be better if I left you to your shop?" She suggests, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel of her car where she was parked outside of the training complex before an afternoon training session.

"Yeah, probably. Sorry, I'll see you later."

And with that, you hung up.

As you went to slide your phone into your pocket with your shaking hands, you missed, causing it to clatter heavily against the tiles. It earned a few stares from the people around you, only intensifying the jittery dread that surged through you. Pins and needles encapsulated your body as you crouched down to pick up your now-smashed phone, but currently that was the last thing on your mind.

Alexia's statements circled relentlessly around your head - to literally anybody else in the world, hearing those words from someone they had were seeing would be enamouring and seen as a key, heart-warming milestone. But to you, it opened up a dark spot in your mind that you had shunned to the side for some amount of time. It seemed now was the right moment for that unidentifiable problem to break free from its shackles and make itself known, and you were terrified of what those repercussions would be.

You carried out the rest of your shop on autopilot, shoving a handful of notes into the cashier's hand before rushing out without a clue of how much you just gave them. For all you know, you could have massively overpaid them or robbed them in broad daylight. You were so out of touch with the world right now.

So much so, that you were unlocking the door to your apartment before you realised. How long did it take you to get home? Did your phone still work? What time is it? Did you walk, get a taxi, catch the bus, how did you get here? What did you even buy at the shop? Why won't this fucking door open-

A neighbour walked past hastily as you barged a shoulder against the door and almost crashed through it as it finally opened. You sent them an apologetic smile, though there was no doubt in your mind it was more of a manic and unnerving look than anything else, before slamming it shut behind you. The icing on the cake to this whole thing was the fact that the bottom of your shopping bag split open, scattering your groceries across the floor of the entryway. At least now you could see what you had bought.

Whether your legs failed you and buckled or you put yourself on the ground, you kneeled on the floor and gathered everything into your arms to transport it to the kitchen. It was a struggle, your trembling arms barely having the strength to hold themselves up, but you managed to dump your belongings on the kitchen side. Once you'd done that, you rested heavily against the counter, desperately trying to replenish the oxygen that had been stolen from your lungs some point along the way to this moment here.

What the fuck do you do now?

You turned to lean back against the counter and slowly slid down to the ground until you were sat on the floor, head back against the cupboard. There were too many conflicting thoughts and emotions rushing through you that all you could do was sit and stare. Feeling nothing but everything at the same time, thinking nothing but everything all at once.

Seeing Alexia tonight might tip you over the edge. You hope it doesn't end that way. You hope that her presence eases you. You hope she saves you from falling, sinking, spiralling into an irrevocable state of mind, whether she recognises that she's doing it or not. You hope, hope, hope.

Time seems to be a temporary concept for today, because before you've even had the chance to start preparing dinner for tonight, Alexia is at your door. Her voice calls out from behind it, asking if you're in there and if you're okay, because you've zoned out again. You're on the sofa, your cross-body purse still hanging off your shoulder, your jacket still zipped up to your chin, your shoes still on. Your groceries are still strewn on the kitchen counter, and the torn bag is still in the entry way.

"Amor, are you in there? Let me in." Alexia calls out, her voice tainted with concern.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm coming!" You jump up, kick your shoes off, throw your bag onto the small dining table, and open the door. She visibly deflates at the sight of you, her tense shoulders dropping, but her face contorts at your attire.

"Why do you have your chaqueta on?" She asks, and you're beyond grateful to hear it's said in an amused tone.

"Bit cold s'all. Come in." You're not cold. You live in Barcelona, and it's the middle of the spring.

You step to the side and she walks in with a tiny smile on her face. She's glad to be here, you realise. She seems to be in a light and happy mood, carrying no extra stress or other burdens, and, rather selfishly, you're glad.

"How was training?"

You plaster a smile on your face as she takes her shoes off and drops her bag beside them, turning to you and opening her arms. You walk into them with no hesitation, but the feeling isn't as relieving as you desired it to be.

"It was good. I did a amazing free-kick, I will show you the video." Alexia beams, and that does warm your heart somewhat. Her passion for her work, her career, her life, was forever an invigorating thing to witness. It's a shame you weren't in the right mood to appreciate it.

"That's great, Ale." You smile genuinely up at her, more than happy to return the soft kiss she offers.

It momentarily calms and heals a small part of you you'd been hoping she would subconsciously fix, but it wasn't enough and you recognised that straight away. You'd get on your knees, beg, and pray to any higher power that would listen to you just so you'd feel okay for one more day. Except, who do you pray to when you don't believe in God?

"What's that?" She points to the white plastic bag from earlier.

"Oh, the bag for the groceries ripped as soon as I walked in. Must have forgotten to pick it up." You shrug it off, wishing for her attention to be elsewhere for the time being. "I haven't started dinner yet, sorry."

"That's okay." She smiles, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly and kissing your cheek. "How was your day?"

Tough question.

"It was alright, haven't done much." You brush it off, taking her hand and leading her to the kitchen... where the whole area was still a state.

"Oh, what happened here?" Alexia frowns.

If it was just a few items, she wouldn't be so puzzled, but when a good portion of the food left out was fridge and freezer food? Strange.

"I... I, when the bag ripped before, a jar smashed by the door and, uh... I took a while cleaning it and forgot to put the rest of the stuff away." You ramble unusually quickly. It was a blatant lie, but she didn't need to know that.

Except, Alexia was an incredibly attentive person, and she knew straight away that something was amiss. The first sign was that, in her intelligent mind, she knew that theoretically if a jar filled were to smash by the front door, the white bag from earlier would have been covered in its contents - but that wasn't the case. The second sign: whenever you cleaned your apartment, you used a very strong smelling citrus scented spray - she often complained about it and nagged you to get one that smelt nicer. Your apartment didn't smell uncomfortably citrusy right now. Funny observation, sure, but these two pieces of seemingly inconspicuous evidence gave away the fact you weren't right. Oh, and your strange behaviour showcased on the phone earlier and a few moments ago didn't help your case either.

But, she chose not to pressure you about it yet. She wanted to wait until you perhaps opened up to her some point this evening. However, that didn't entirely stop her from speaking up.

"Ven aquí, amor." Alexia demands calmly, reaching a hand out to you. Suppressing a sigh, you take it, and she looks down at you with a pressing stare. "Answer me honestly. Are you okay?"

No.

"Yes, I'm okay. I'm fine, Ale, I am." You try to reassure her, squeezing her hand and smiling up at her.

"You promise?" Alexia raises her eyebrows and offers her pinky for you to seal your, rather untruthful, truth. "It's okay if something isn't right."

Pinky promises, as childish as they may come across to some, were never to be broken. Since the start of your relationship, they had been a thing that had been utilised by the both of you to ensure you are telling the truth. Alexia had broken one of her promises she had made to you before in the past, so why couldn't you do one in return? It's only fair, right? Relationships were meant to be equal after all.

"Promise." You smile again and raise your other hand to lock fingers with her. She smiles, though you can see she's not convinced, but nevertheless she kisses your knuckle.

"Can I help you cook?"

"I'm meant to be cooking for you. And you are a bit of a control freak in the kitchen." You tease, desperately trying to steer the night away from the morose direction it could go down, and instead towards the light-hearted, content way you so needed.

"I think I am just a control freak in general." She smirks at you before turning to put away the disregarded shopping. You would also happily accept that direction too, you supposed. "Venga, I am so hungry, I skipped lunch at training for a meeting and now I regret it."

To your relief, you both make peaceful conversation once you've told her what you planned on cooking, and it's so peacefully domestic as you do your individual tasks beside each other. Every so often, Alexia will joke and bump her hip into yours as you giggle, and this version of your girlfriend is exactly what you needed. For a moment, you feel the cloud over your head slither away, until the topic you wanted to avoid came up.

"So, what do you think of me telling my Mami about us? You never gave me a response on call earlier."

You freeze momentarily, Alexia thankfully not noticing from the corner of her eye. With a subtle clearing of your throat, you continue cutting up the chilli peppers on the board in front of you, but your now shaking hands pose as a slight kitchen hazard considering the sharp knife you were wielding.

"I, yeah, it's nice. Nice that you, um... did that." You stutter out anxiously, nausea settling cruelly in the pit of your stomach. Alexia takes in your reaction and laughs under her breath, turning briefly to leave a kiss on your forehead.

"No need to be nervous, amor. We have been together for many months now, it was due to happen soon. And M-"

"Ow- fuck!" You gasp sharply, dropping the knife immediately and cradling your hand as blood began dripping from the middle joint of your index finger.

"Woah, amor, what happened?" Alexia winces at the sight, grabbing a few squares of kitchen paper and pressing it against your cut.

"I- my hand slipped and I obviously cut myself." You grimace, eyes tightly shut to rid yourself of the sight. "It burns too, fuck."

Alexia knew you didn't handle blood too well, so she turned you away from the scene and wrapped one arm around your back, rubbing up and down comfortingly whilst she still applied pressure to the cut.

"It's okay, it's okay, it hurts more because of the chilli. Take some breaths, vale?" You nod hastily, not really realising your cheeks had puffed out as you held your breath. Alexia watches your face closely, eyes still closed as you took deep breaths to calm yourself. "You're doing good, bebita. Keep doing that, so good. Let's relax a bit, hm? We should sit down in case you get lightheaded."

The last sentence is her thinking out loud as she started guiding you towards one of the chairs at the dining table. Resting one elbow on the table whilst Alexia continued to hold your wounded hand, you lay your forehead against your uninjured hand as Alexia crouched beside you. Your joined hands lay in your lap as you calmed down, or at least tried to.

To Alexia, it would appear that you were just mentally recovering from the shock of the incident. But actually, you were trying to dispel the unsuspected horror that filled you to the brim at Alexia's earlier reminder.

I told my Mami about you today. She wants to meet you.

That line inevitably meant you had to tell your family too. Except, you couldn't. There was no way you would, no way you could, not without facing realities you had pressed down far into unreachable and forgettable depths of your mind. It was all too much, it was simply not a possibility for you. You knew what it would lead to, and you weren't ready for that.

For the past months you'd been with Alexia and the time you spent getting to know her before that, you had mostly lived in a bubble that dissociated you from the broken, cracked, ruined, utterly destroyed parts of your brain. It had been perfect so far, and you'd be fucking damned to leave that bubble now. But perhaps it was too late and the damage had been done long before Alexia said what she said earlier, maybe that darkness just needed a catalyst before it submerged you in its wake.

"Amor? Hey, come back." One of Alexia's hands lightly patted your cheek to bring you back into the room. "You scared me there. Your breathing got really bad and you were in a... a weird daze. I was talking but you weren't reacting or anything. Are you back now?"

You nodded wordlessly at her, still not entirely taking in what she was saying.

"The blood... freaked me out." You rasp breathlessly, shaking your head a little to rid the glaze over your vision.

"That's okay. Do you feel a little dizzy? I can get you something to help that. Clear your head maybe." You nod again, and she gently lets go of your hand. Cold shivers immediately burst through at the lost contact, but you had to get over yourself and get used to it.

Cautiously, you take the tissue off of your hand and inspect the damage. It doesn't seem deep enough for stitches, which instantly fills you with relief. If you weren't already in a state of intense dismay already, a trip to the hospital would cause a hurricane of emotions that left a lasting imprint on everything and everyone around.

"Here, some apple juice. To get your blood sugar back." Alexia places a mug of apple juice in front of you and notices your now bare hand. "Oof, amor, that looks painful. I'm not sure if that may need a doct-"

"No! No doctors, no hospital. It doesn't need stitches, it's fine." You rush out, eyes wide in what Alexia guesses is fear as you look down at where she's crouched again. "Please, no hospital. It just needs to be cleaned and wrapped up."

"Okay, if you are sure." Alexia replies, nudging the cup closer to you. "Drink that and I will get the first aid kit."

You do as she says, drinking the half-empty cup of apple juice whilst she searches through the kitchen for the green box of medical supplies. Her eyes hardly leave your slumped form at the table, filled with worry for you. Things weren't adding up now, it was obvious, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could ignore it.

A part of her feels afraid to push you; emotionally she wants the best for you and if subtly, or not so subtly, urging you to do that works then she'll do it, but intellectually she senses a deep, internalised issue that could rip through you if handled incorrectly. It's not up to her to cause that. So she asks a question that's so layered it flattens all remaining atmosphere in the room.

"Cariño, how do you feel now?" She pretends to busy herself with organising the already packed box of medical necessities you kept.

"Better." Phyiscally true, but mentally wrong.

"Why don't we order something for dinner instead?"

As if you weren't filled with disconcertion already, that suggestion signs, seals, and stamps the envelope set to be sent to the fucking psyche ward for your admission. Were you so inadequate now that you couldn't even cook a simple meal? Apparently so.

"O-Okay."

Alexia frowns and comes back over with alcohol wipes, antiseptic cream, and a box of plasters, placing her items on the table and gently tapping your chin to get you to look up at her.

"I love you, you know that?"

The words fell from her lips before she could stop them. Alexia maybe wasn't the most emotionally helpful person ever but she sure did try. She thought her saying that would comfort at least a small part of you, but she couldn't be more wrong. It planted the seed of an unforgivable idea in your head.

The realisation of what you had to do poured over you like cold water, washing away every ounce of the little remaining hope and positivity you had. A feeling akin to mourning settled in your heart, accompanied by the debilitating weight of this twisted entity in your mind seeping into your bones. Your body strained under the heaviness of it all, unable to capacitate for the burden of living life like this, only confirming that the thing you must do was your only solution. Your lower lip quivered as the thought consumed you, the devil in your head chanting it over and over and over and o-

"I do know." Your lips tug into a smile but your throat bobs to conceal the sobs bubbling at the surface. "I know that. I love you too."

For the remaining time you had with her, you would make sure she knew that too.

"Let's get you cleaned up, hm?"

It's silent between you both as she delicately cleans the wound before applying cream and wrapping it up in bandages. It's silent as she leads you to the sofa, silent as she ordered your meal for you from one of the common takeaways you always got together. It's silent as you wait for it to come. It's less silent when Alexia turns on Netflix and opts for a new TV show for you both to watch together. It's still fairly silent even as you sit beside her, back stiff and straight beside the woman whose heart you were soon to break.

Alexia has never loathed quietness more than she does right now. It was an occurrence she valued at any other point in her life; watching football, reading, studying a game, relaxing in a post-match bath, going on a solitary walk to gain some peace of mind. But here, in this moment beside you, her skin crawls at the unbearable stillness of the room. Sure, she did enjoy silence with you too, but it felt like the unavoidable elephant in the room was stomping on her heart with every beat of her heart. There was a hidden agenda in the belly of the beast attacking her, and for some reason it felt like she was running out of time to put out the fire.

Her spiralling was interrupted when the buzzer of your apartment rang through the room, letting you know there was someone outside of the apartment complex without a fob to enter the building. Alexia reluctantly gets up from the sofa to let them in and hovers by the door to wait for the delivery driver to find your flat. She keeps her eyes on you, subtly watching you attentively, but even if she stood face-to-face with you, noses touching and breaths mingling, you wouldn't have a clue she was there. Your senses were incredibly warped and you were so far detached from reality, it felt like you and Alexia were two worlds apart.

What's at stake right now is something that's much bigger than the both of you. The dynamic around you may as well have a 'fragile: handle with care' sticker slapped on it, except, even that wouldn't have stopped the hands of the puppets controlling the world from acting so cruelly. You'd taken constant blows for quite some time now with no respite. Just as you started to recover from one punch, another would come to hit you square in the face.

"Hey." Alexia lightly knocks on your forehead with her knuckle. Every concerned glance from the woman in front of you felt like a jab at your body, slowly working you down until you gave in. "You are here, but you are not here."

You blink gormlessly up at her, your shoulders lifting in a careless shrug before you took back control of your mind.

"Food's here?" You force a smile, taking the paper bag from her hand and walking on shaking legs to the kitchen. You get plates and cutlery out, dishing up your meals before joining Alexia back on the couch, the taller woman now the one seemingly stuck in her head. "Ale, your meal."

"Ah, thank you." She leans in to quickly kiss your cheek when you sit beside her again.

The blonde woman has one more trick up her sleeve to try and bring you out of your shell, and it's one she hardly ever played.

Immediately, she begins to babble on about her day and her teammates and her family and whatever new antics Mapi and the youngsters had got up to, going abnormally overboard with the amount of anecdotes she was spewing out. Everybody knew Alexia was not a talkative person, and she only ever acted like this when she was in a rare giddy mood. And that really was rare.

The Alexia on display so far tonight was not in a giddy mood. She was happy, of course she was, but factor in the concern she'd shown for you tonight and the giddiness she had not portrayed at all even recently, something was off. It threw you completely off-kilter, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why she was doing this.

"I'll tell my Dad about us tomorrow." You blurted out, interrupting another of her rambles. It's kind of the truth, not all of it, and it's not the biggest decision you've made for yourself tonight, but you owed her something at least for putting up with you.

"Que?" She frowns. Out of all things she'd expected you to say tonight, that wasn't one of them.

"You're talking a lot because you want to know why I'm acting weird. It's because I'm thinking about telling my Dad about us, I'm scared to do it but you told Eli so I'll tell my Dad." You explained, pushing your food around your plate as Alexia processes your words for a moment.

"You don't have to do that if you don't want to. I don't mind, I know things haven't been... haven't been great between you both since your Mu-"

"Okay, but he's still my Dad." You cut her off again. You're not in the mood to discuss what she was about to bring up.

"You don't owe him anything, amor. Sure, he's your Dad, but you said it yourself only a few weeks ago; he's an idiot. No one should treat their child the way he's treated you after they've just lost their Mami."

There. She said it anyway.

"Alexia, I know you're just trying to stick up for me, but please don't go there. This has nothing to do with my Mum." Another partial lie.

The subconscious, realistic part of you knows every issue you've had in the last two years has everything to do with... her. But right now, the impulsive side that has been at the forefront of your mind ever since it happened wants to blame everything on the world around you and not your flaws that you've ignored all this time. Anyone could see that your refusal to sit with your grief and just feel was your Achilles' heel.

"Okay. I'm sorry for mentioning it. But I am absolutely on your side, amor, I'm always on your side. So if you want to tell your Dad, tell him. If you want me there next to you or if you want me out of the country whilst you do it, then I'll do it. I will do whatever you want me to." Alexia tells you, her voice pleading as earnest swirled around the eyes that bore down into you.

Well, you thought, that's good to know.

"Thank you." You smile ever so slightly, dropping your fork and placing a hand on her leg. You squeeze her knee three times, one more chance for her to understand the love you held for her.

"De nada, amor. Now eat up, please."

The pair of you spent the rest of the evening delicately dancing around the untamed elephant from earlier whose patience was wearing thin at the prospect of going entirely avoided for the night. Conversation topics were kept light, finally giving you a brief reprieve from the onslaught of your mind, and Alexia kept her arms tight as they wrapped around you. It was as if with each breath you let out or with each twitch of your body, she held on tighter and tighter, every hint of movement from you a reminder of your presence and how much she ineffably adored you.

Yet, the sun began to set, indicating that it was almost time for Alexia to leave for the night. She had to get up early tomorrow whilst you had the day off, and initially Alexia always agreed that when this was the case, you should sleep separately so that you could rest. However, as she collected her bag and slipped on her shoes, she kept her movements purposely slow to delay her departure. The last thing she wanted to do was leave you alone.

"Are you sure you will be okay tonight?" Alexia sighs, a reluctant hand on the door handle.

"I'll be okay." You answer simply, hesitating for a moment to decide on your goodbye gesture, before settling for a lone kiss on the cheek.

"Call me, immediately, if that changes. If you wake up in the night and need me, I will be straight here. If you call me in the middle of training, I will be straight here. Please. Don't suffer on your own."

Oh Alexia. If only you weren't so late.

"Everything will be okay, Ale." You tell her, desperately trying to disguise the emotion threatening to break through. "Te veo pronto, sí?"

"Sí. I love you." Alexia smiles, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, then opening the door.

"I know." Is all you can say now to that declaration. And fuck, if Alexia hadn't felt so uneasy in her life after that.

Somehow, you managed to sleep that night. Maybe it was your body allowing you to build up all the strength you need for the day ahead, because your life was about to be irreversibly changed. And the worst was yet to come.

"Hi Dad." You murmur quietly from your place in the corner of your sofa, legs tucked underneath you as you pitifully hold onto a cushion for comfort.

"Well, it's been a while since I've heard from you." The man on the other side of the phone chuckles spitefully. "Remembered who I was again?"

"Hm. How have you been?" The best way to deal with such a man was to ignore his behaviour, in the hopes he dropped the act when you didn't give a reaction. Perhaps you underestimated him.

"That's a loaded question, you know that. It's all everyone asks nowadays and I'm fucking sick of it." He grumbled, and for the first time in a while it sounded like his anger wasn't directed at you.

"I do know that." You stated.

"So why ask then? Still as dense as ever, I see."

Okay, well, clearly you judged him too soon.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing." You mumble insecurely, a frown settling on your face as you try to hold back the emotions you knew would spill out sooner rather than later.

"Don't lie to me." He snapped through gritted teeth. "You couldn't give a shit about me if your life depended on it. Be honest and tell me what you want, I have better things to do than talk to you."

"I... I have a girlfriend, Dad. Here in Barcelona, I've met someone." You reveal with a hint of a smile on your face.

All morning, you'd been in over your head on whether to tell him about Alexia. Part of you thought it was futile since you had already decided on your future with her, or rather, the lack thereof. But the naïve and childish part of you painfully thought he could be happy. That wasn't a concept this man had understood as of late, so it was a wonder why you'd thought he'd be happy for you. Especially given his latest behaviour, and his long-standing opinion on your sexuality. If only your Mother was here.

"Wow. Because I couldn't give you the life you want after your Mum left-" he could never say the true reason for her absence out loud, "-you look for it elsewhere? What did I tell you about doing that? A home can't be a person, kiddo, you need to stop looking for that. Your Mother wasn't home, I'm not home, this new 'girlfriend' isn't home, a person cannot be a fucking home! You're just desperate to fill in the love that's absent in the death of your Mother. Get a fucking grip of yourself and get over it, this 'girlfriend' business. You know your Mum would never have stood for this."

Silence.

Of all the words in the world, across all languages and cultures, over all periods of time, there was only one description to be used of how you felt right now. In your little flat in the heart of Barcelona, cowering in the corner of the couch, you felt suffocated. Any semblance of clarity, peace, hope, love - suffocated, by the words of your father, by the events that had changed you for the worse throughout your life, by the burden of simply just living.

Except, the words 'living' and 'simply' could never be used in the same sentence, because that wasn't a possibility. Every aspect of human nature wasn't simple, that's the beauty in it. The thousands of tiny mechanical functions in your body that allow you to breathe, the hundreds of muscles exerting themselves daily for one small step, the twitches and spasms of nerve endings to feel just a little alive. And despite it only requiring thirteen miniscule muscles to smile compared to forty-seven to frown, the latter felt so much easier. The weight of a smile had never seemed so damning, so suffocating.

The promise of life was a unique one, that's common knowledge and yes, life is beautiful, but any glorification of the struggle of living was inefficacious, nothing could extinguish the flame of the fire inside of your mind that was already uncontrollably burning through your self-preservation. No promise of light one day shining in your world again was worth it; you were merely a shadow of the people you loved.

"Okay Dad." You choke out. Even uttering one word was such a fucking exhausting challenge. "I... I planned on breaking up with her anyway. I think I want to come home."

You expected the feeling of verbalising your plans to be freeing, but the gravity of what you were going to do grounded you so humbly it almost almost stopped your heart entirely.

"Wow, I mean, if I had known that you would listen to my opinion and follow my advice so quick, I would have given it more often." He laughed maliciously, his way of celebrating your fall from grace.

"Can I come home?" You can't stop yourself in time from asking that question in such a begging tone. Another victory for him.

"I don't think that's a good idea, sweetheart. If you're that desperate, maybe stay with your grandparents. Perhaps they'll want you." He sighed as he said it as if he was in a rush, acting like speaking to his daughter was such a chore. "Listen kiddo, you done now? I've gotta go."

"Yep, I'm done. Can I see you if I come home?" The question was paired with a hasty swipe away of tears as if the man hundreds of miles away could see them.

"Oh honey. You fascinate me. You're at danger of almost being interesting now, you know that?" He laughed once more at his own words before hanging up.

Silence again. Such a plaguing thing.

The weight of the conversation you just had collapsed down on you, a whirlwind of emotions surging through you as a result of it. Each beat of your heart served as a reminder of every word spat at you from the man you once thought held all the love you had to give, the thump against your chest echoing his disappointment and distaste for you. A daughter's love for their father was undoubtedly one of the most dangerous things to themselves, proving that point yourself as you mentally scrambled to find a way to mend the fractured bond, yet each time coming up empty, feeling powerless and minute in the face of your father's disappointment. Every response from that man carved deep wounds of guilt and regret into every crevice of your mind.

Behind a facade of stoicism, a torrent of emotions fulminated throughout your body - a spiteful mix of every insecurity, every doubt, every shattered dream, it all coming together to form the final piece of the puzzle that was needed to make the decision to break out of your life. There was no other choice.

Outwardly, there wasn't a hint of such breakage shown anywhere on your body. And that's how it had to be, that's how you had to be. Completely numb to it all until you had escaped this turmoil.

By 2pm, everything was different.

Flight booked. Every suitcase you owned bursting at the seams, waiting by the door. Apartment tenancy ripped up. Your resignation handed in to your work. Every bit of furniture, every little trinket, all of it ready to be left behind. Despite it all, the most heartbreaking symbol of your new start, was the cardboard box of Alexia's belongings sat in the passenger seat of your car as you drove, waiting to be dropped off discreetly outside her door.

Your life was the perfect image to sum up how quick things can change. Twenty-four hours ago, you were walking to the local supermarket to pick up the stuff to make a perfect meal for you and your girlfriend to eat and have a quiet, relaxed evening together. Now? You were driving to said girlfriend's apartment, equipped with the words to tear your lives apart.

Oh, how things change.

In the blink of an eye, you were parked up outside her apartment building. You had the key to her apartment in your hand and the code to enter the complex memorised for one more use. You failed to notice her car parked in her usual space as you walked through the car park. The heaviness of the box was nothing compared to the heaviness in your chest of what you were about to do.

Ears ringing, eyes blurred with unshed tears, throat burning and constricted, your bones aching under the weight of purely just existing, all of it immensely overwhelming. But you were numb still. Numb and out of tune with your feelings, because you had to be. Otherwise, all of this couldn't happen. There was no way any of this would be possible if you just listened to what your heart wanted. No, that devil on your shoulder had gotten its way once again.

"Oh, what are you doing here?"

Fuck.

You had truly done it this time, because here Alexia was, standing in the doorway of her apartment as you froze at the sight of her.

"What are you doing here?" You ask frantically, desperately praying for her attention to be anywhere but the box of her stuff in your arms.

"Well, this is my apartment, amor. I just got back from training but I left my phone in my car." Alexia answers, an eyebrow raised down at you. Of course she'd catch on that something was wrong. She always did. It was one of the things you loved her for. "What's this? Are you a delivery driver now?"

She laughs to herself as she says it, taking the box from your arms and placing it on the floor. You're still stuck to the spot, eyes wide in fear at what she was about to find, and your heart thumps angrily against your chest in protest, trying to get you to react in some way. But it's too late. Alexia has already opened the box and began to read the letter in there before you could stop her.

The smile on her face immediately dissipates at the first line.

"To Ale, I'm sorry... what do you mean?" She asks, glancing up at you briefly before continuing to read it.

That's when your body finally decides to react. You slowly back away from the woman in front of you, but Alexia grabs your wrist tightly to stop you from running away.

"No, you will not leave my sight right now. Explain this fucking letter, what is going on?" Alexia attempts to sound commanding, but there's a certain glisten to her eyes and a lump in her throat. "What is going on? Tell me, now, please."

"I... I'm sorry, Alexia." You croak out, rushing to wipe the tears already falling with the sleeve of your sweater. "I am sorry, you have to know that."

"Sorry about what!?" Alexia shouts, then takes a deep breath to compose herself momentarily. "Come inside, sit down, and please can we talk?"

"Everything I have to say is in the letter, Alexia, I-"

"No, no it is not. This letter is hardly a whole page. You've come to my apartment with a box of my stuff and a letter that starts with the words 'I'm sorry', I'm not letting you leave." Alexia says, and you have no choice but to listen to her. However, she softens for a moment, and the lost look on her face tugs on every one of your heart strings. She takes one of your hands and squeezes it three times, resulting in another stream of tears from yourself. "Please. Whatever is going on, give us a chance to solve it. I need you to explain what's happened so I can help you, amor. Please."

You relent easily, forever at her mercy, and follow her into her apartment. She leaves the stacked box by the front door, completely unbothered by it - in fact, she doesn't ever want to look inside it if this conversation goes the way she thinks it'll go. She's kicking herself mentally, her mind already skimming over every interaction she's had with you recently, desperately trying to plot a point in time where your attitude had changed. It's easy for her to do so, the moment jumps out almost immediately. If only she hadn't been so scared, so cautious, maybe she could have solved this before it was too late.

"What do you want me to say, Ale?" You sigh exasperatedly as you sit on the edge of her sofa, eyes fixated on your fidgeting hands.

"What do I want you to say? Amor, I want you to be honest and explain why you're sorry, why you've come over with all my stuff, why you've written me this letter. It's all come out of nowhere, I have no idea what's going on and I just want you to clue me in. Yesterday we were laughing together and having a nice evening, and now you're... I don't even want to say it." Alexia laughs nervously as she speaks, her shoulder stuck up in a shrug as her hands gesture eratically.

"It's okay, I'll say it for you." Your false facade takes over, body armoured with a hard exterior. "I'm leaving, Ale. I'm leaving Barcelona, leaving Spain."

To hear you say those words were perhaps the greatest pain Alexia has ever felt in her life.

"Leaving... leaving me?" She whispers quietly, the question punctuated with a gulp as she swallows her emotions.

She sounds eerily similar to a young, innocent child who's just lost all they've ever known. It makes you wonder for a brief second if you're a sick individual for causing such pain, but you shun those thoughts away for a later date, because right now you need all the feigned courage you can muster up.

"Yes." The ease with which you say it sends shivers down her spine. It's the hardest sentence you've ever had to say, and it's just one word - once more an example of how life can never be conformed to simplicity.

"Why are you being so cold? This is not the woman I know." Alexia practically pleads, inching closer to you on the sofa. Her hands land on your knees, but you're too far in to back out now.

"I don't know who I am anymore, Alexia. I need time and space to figure my shit out, that's what is best for me right now and that's why I have to go." She scoffs in your face once you've finished, and that's the moment this conversation goes far more downhill you could have expected.

"What about me? What about what's best for me? You're leaving me behind!"

"Leaving you behind? You're acting like a sad dog that I've just abandoned in the middle of nowhere! You were perfectly fine in your life, your very successful and established life might I add, before I came along and you'll be better off without me!" You snap back. This is not the direction you thought this would go. "Why can't you accept the fact I need to leave?"

"Because I fucking love you! I love you and I don't want to live a life that doesn't have you in it! But maybe I should grow out of that opinion since it seems so easy for you to turn off your feelings for me, so easy for you to be so selfish at the flick of a switch."

"Selfish? I'm being selfish?" You repeat her words back to her with an outraged laughter that sounds all too familiar to you. Is this who you've turned into? "I'm being selfish for choosing what's best for me? I'm being selfish for wanting to take time on my own to figure my life out? I'm being selfish for wanting to take time to grieve my own, dead Mother?"

Alexia's face falls as soon as those words come out of your mouth. Never in her life had a sentence caused such a visceral reaction from her because it feels like someone's just plunged a dagger right into her heart. She'd been too panicked, too focused, on her own feelings to even wonder why you had made this decision. She had been the selfish one for jumping to conclusions and now her lethal arguments had completely tanked the conversation. The possibility that there was no coming back from her vicious assumptions instilled a deeper, darker fear in her than she had ever felt in her life.

"No, no, I didn't-" She begins to dig herself out of the hole she finds herself in, but you're in no mood to entertain her begging.

"Good one. Really funny, that." You stand up and go to walk away, but not without one last attempt from Alexia to stop you.

"I didn't mean that, I swear, I am just so confused and scared and-"

"Do you not think I'm scared too? This will be the second time I've uprooted my life and regretted everything I have ever done. I'm terrified to leave, terrified to find out what's waiting for me at home, terrified to figure maybe this is all I am and that there's no better side of myself to find." Your voice trembles with a mix of fear and fury. "I've realised that throughout our whole relationship, from the moment I stepped into this country, I've been someone that I'm not. Losing my Mum was losing the biggest part of myself, and everything I've done from then 'til now has just been a poor attempt at filling in the hole in my heart-"

"S-so, what, you're saying our relationship was fake?" Alexia splutters out. You pause at her words, completely caught off-guard by her utterly stupid and inept fight back.

"That's what you caught from all that?" You ask, dumbfounded. "Right. Because it's always about you, Alexia, isn't it? This whole conversation has just been you talking about yourself. Have you even properly heard what I've said? Have you read more than the first line of my letter?" The guilty look on her face says it all. "That's what I thought."

"But I... I know what it's like to lose a parent, amor, I can help you!"

"Wow. For the sake of us both, don't go there, Alexia. Don't." You fix her a warning glare, shaking your arm out of the grasp of her hand.

"You can't leave. You can't, I won't let you. It's not right." She speaks sternly again now, a final plea for your relationship.

"Oh, fuck off Alexia. You have the emotional maturity of a teenage boy. I'm done with this now. Good luck at the World Cup this summer."

You walk out and slam her door shut without looking back.

Alexia's life had just taken a nosedive, because a breakup was absolutely not on her agenda for the day. The hand that had grabbed your arm earlier tingled with the stain of your touch and certain areas of the room were tainted by the lingering scent of your perfume. One conversation and you had vanished from her life - an excruciating result caused by her own incompetency to act like a decent human being.

For some time after you had left, she had been stuck rooted to her sofa, her mental temporarily ruined by the events of the day. A traumatic event had occurred, this was a natural reaction, to go into shock. To be so damaged by something that all she could do was sit and be consciously unconscious to the world around her until her body and mind could recover.

There was one phrase that ran circles around her mind. It isn't fair. What that defiance was directed at, she wasn't so sure yet. At first it had been you, but as the clouds cleared a little, it was obvious that it wasn't. Despite her words earlier and how accusing they came out, she didn't blame you. Not one bit. No, her anger was aimed at the so called 'fate' bullshit that everyone championed so often. How can people praise such a phenomenon when it had brought so much evil into people's lives? It felt like everything came at the price of something, and that's not fair.

For Alexia? It felt like her career came with the price of her Father. Everything she had done was because of him, and he couldn't even be here to see it. No, because fate or destiny or whatever other nickname it had, had taken that opportunity away from her. It isn't fair. For you? If anyone asked you, in the future when you're in your rocking chair, a knitted blanket draped over you and the waves of the ocean lapping away in front of your eyes, you'd say that in this period of time you had gained the world for the price of your soul. This dichotomy of good and evil sometimes felt like it wasn't worth the fight because in cases like this, it just wasn't fair.

The realisation of it all left a sour taste in Alexia's mouth. But something seemed to snap in her, some higher power finally giving her a backbone, and she sprung into action. You didn't deserve any of the stuff that had happened to you, and she sure as hell wasn't going to be another name on that list. One of her worst fears, a view shared by all of humanity, was to remember someone she loved in such a gut-wrenchingly awful way that it tarnished her entire memory of them. That's something she couldn't do with you. If you were to end this, it had to be on good terms.

So, she grabbed her keys and headed down to her car, where her phone still was. Alexia was a determined woman; when she put her mind to something, she got it done. This would be no different.

Call after call, after call, after call, came through on your phone from the one woman you probably least expected. There was only so long you could hold her off because, after all, you were once in a relationship with the woman, meaning you got a front row seat to her persistance.

"Hi, uh, Alexia. What do you want?" You say when you answer, finally.

"We have to talk more." Alexia rushes out quickly, for lack of better words and composure.

"I don't know if I want that after what happened earlier." You state in a defensive tone. But secretly, you craved nothing more.

"I know, and I am so so sorry for all that. It was so selfish and awful of me, I regretted every word that came out of my mouth the second I said it. I just... can we talk again? Please?" She begs, her hand fidgeting against the steering wheel of her car as tears silently rolled down her cheeks. "I would hate myself if I didn't at least try for this, amor, let me try."

"The decision is final, Ale, you can't change it. I'm sorry. You said yesterday that you would do whatever I wanted you to do. Well, this is what I need you to do, Alexia. I need you to let me go."

"Okay." Alexia squeezes her eyes shut, tears spilling out the corners, and her clenched fist comes to rest against her forehead. "Can I see you one more time? So I can properly apologise? I have no other intentions than that, I promise. I just... I can't remember you that way. I can't remember us in the way we left it. It doesn't give us as people any respect and it does not do justice to the beauty of our relationship."

That was the tipping point for you. There's the woman you love.

"Okay." You smile and sit up in your bed where you previously lay in a cocoon of your own pity. "How about we meet on neutral grounds this time?"

"Let's do that." Alexia responds, and you can hear the smile in her voice.

Some time later, you found yourself walking along the promenade of the beach, looking for where Alexia said she was seated on one of the benches. It was a chilly evening with no help from the sea, so you had your hands tucked into your coat pockets and your chin hidden under the zip of your coat. Alexia had spotted you long ago, a content smile on her face at the all too familiar sight of you and your distaste for the cold. You recognise her soon after, taking a deep breath before approaching her.

"Hi." You mumble, muffled by your jacket and the wind whipping around you. Alexia hears it of course.

"Hi. Sit down, please?" Alexia taps her hand on the wooden slats of the bench beside her, and you quickly follow suit. "I, uh... got you this."

She hands over a takeaway cup of hot chocolate. Your favourite.

"Thank you. Something to keep my hands warm." You say, happy to see her laugh quietly and nod.

"Exactly why I got it."

The pair of you sit in silence for a while, encapsulated by the serenity of the sky and the elegance of the ocean. Strangely, you realise, the two things resemble you and Alexia. Two things of beauty that never quite meet, never quite mend, just a parallel that reflects each other. You can't tell if that's a horrifying allusion or a calming one.

"So, what's this then, a... a post-mortem of our relationship?" You joke, giggling when Alexia scrunches her nose at the suggestion.

"I mean... you could say that." She shudders as she says it, not quite at peace with the new revelation. She's not sure she ever will be.

"I have to go, Alexia. I... it's so hard leaving you behind. It's the hardest decision I've ever made, but it's one I have to make. I hope you know that."

"I do. I do know that. I want you to know I understand. I'll never be... content with it, but... it's a necessary evil." Alexia has her eyes cast down on her coffee cup, fiddling with the lid. You notice and take hold of one of her hands, intertwining your fingers perhaps for one final time.

"It is. I've got no energy to fight anymore. I need to sit with my emotions and all that shit," You pause as you sigh dramatically, making her laugh once more. "So that I can figure out who I am after all this. Doing that whilst in a relationship isn't fair on either of us. It'll only lead to something more soul destroying, no matter how hard this conversation is."

"I know." Alexia purses her lips and nods, finding the strength to look at you. A genuine smile breaks out onto her face. "I had a feeling something was wrong a little while ago. I guess I'm just... angry. That I can't solve it."

"I'm angry that I can't solve it." You repeat, a sad smile on your face. "There's just a lot wrong with me, I think. And I can't burden you with it all. I have a lot of baggage I drag along and there's an awful lot of cracks in my mind-"

"There's cracks in everything, amor, that's how the light shines in."

You had half a mind to berate her for interrupting you again, but you find yourself at a loss for words. Why were you leaving this woman again?

"I'll value you forever, Ale. Nothing could make me change that, even if we left things at what happened before. You're the most astounding person I've ever met, and even when I'm breaking your heart, you still treat me better than anyone else. If we forget what happened at your apartment." You tease, the both of you chuckling lightly.

"It's hard to hate you when you're breaking my heart so gently." Alexia states. "I'll always love you. It's probably not the right thing to say but it's the truth."

"No, I... I'll always love you too." You respond, absolutely certain. Despite the predicament you both find yourselves in, Alexia finds every bit of relief and closure she could ever need in that one simple sentence.

"When do you... when do you leave?" She asks with a sniffle.

"I fly out later tonight." You answer quietly.

"Will you come back one day?" It's the one thing she knows she probably shouldn't say, but she can't resist. She has to know.

"I don't know, to be honest." She turns away and nods slowly. You squeeze her hands three times.

"If you do, will you let me know?"

You can't promise her that, and she knows it.

"I will." You smile softly up at her.

You both fall into silence once more. This one feels a little less suffocating than those of the past. There's still so much more to say, but as your head falls to rest on Alexia's shoulder and you both look out at the view that had been the background of your relationship, neither of you can name a reason to interrupt the peace that's settled. It's perhaps more peace than either of you had felt in a long time.

The thing is, about the ocean and the sky, is that they do meet. They're one and the same in their own essence, and in the distance, they do eventually meet. And the sun will rise again. Two inevitable occurrences that form at the hands of a little thing called fate. Or destiny. Or whatever it is.

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #woso community #woso imagine #Spotify

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therealcocoshady · 3 months ago

Note

Hey! Can you please write marshall's reaction when doctor tells him that his wife is pregnant with TRIPLETS and all of them are BOYS?

Boy dad 🩵

A/N : I find it absolutely hilarious that you sent this request right after I mention I had a soft spot for writing Eminem as the ultimate girl dad 😅. You’re challenging me and I like that 👀. Also… I had SO MUCH FUN writing this request. I don’t think I have written anything this fast ! I hope you enjoy it ✨.

CW : Mention of infertility diagnosis - surprise pregnancy - triplet - mention of abortive measures - angst - fluff

I imagine that he’d react differently to all these news, this pregnancy definitely bringing him on some type of emotional rollercoaster.

He absolutely did not expect you to tell him you were pregnant. You’d been together for a while and, early on in the relationship, you’d told him that you had endometriosis, and that the rather advanced stage of the condition affected your fertility. He didn’t mind it one bit, though. He already had daughters and did not necessarily want any more kids. If you had mentioned that being a mom was important to you, he would have done everything in his power to make your dreams come true, whether it was by doing IVF or adopting. But you didn’t. You’d known about the condition for more than a decade and, though it hadn’t been easy at first, you were at peace with the idea of not raising kids. As long as you had the love of your life by your side, you knew you’d be happy. The two of you went on to get married and enjoy life together. For years, you enjoyed marital bliss and a childfree home, his daughters being all grown up and out of the house. Never in a million years did you expect to get pregnant. The absence of period didn’t exactly tip you off, since your cycle had always been very irregular. And you almost laughed in the face of your GP when she suggested you get some bloodwork done and do a pregnancy test. Sure, you’d booked a consultation because of fatigue and nausea, but there was no way in your mind that the symptoms could be pregnancy-related. After all, the doctors had evaluated your chances of conceiving as « slim to none ». The only reason you agreed to the pregnancy test was because the bloodwork prescription also included other things, so you figured your GP would actually find the cause, probably anemia, and prescribe you some supplements.

You nearly fell from your chair when she called you about the result, and you had her confirm several times that there was no confusion, or that it was not a prank. When the call ended, you burst in a fit of nervous laughter, still in disbelief. Your laugh echoed throughout the house, causing Marshall to come to your office. You realized you probably sounded manic and demented when you saw your husband’s concerned expression. « Are you… alright? » he asked with a raised eyebrow. You didn’t even think twice abut breaking the news to him. « The doctor called. She had my results », you said, struggling to form a complete sentence. He looked at you, nervosity creeping up on him. When it came to you, he seemed to have the ability to get paranoid over nothing. And if it had you sounding this insane, he figured bad news weren’t exactly out of the question, especially with how sick you had been in the past few weeks. He kneeled by your side, holding your hand in his. « So… Is there anything wrong? » he asked in a concerned tone. « I’m pregnant, » you cackled, sounding like a hyena. « Fifteen years ago, they said I was infertile. I did three years of therapy after that and now… pregnant », you hysterically guffawed. You had tears streaming on your cheeks and you struggled to catch your breathing, the nervous laughter taking over your body. So much so that you didn’t even register Marshall’s reaction, or lack thereof. But, minutes after you said the word, you slowly realized he’d remained silent. He was still in the same position, staring at you without so much as blinking. For a spare second, you thought he’d turned into a wax statue and you suddenly understood why some people had described his stare as « creepy ». As your mind became clearer and the silence settled, you started freaking out. « Marshall…? » you asked. He slowly started blinking, looking at you as if he were a deer in headlights. « P-pregnant? » he whispered. « You’re… pregnant? ». You gently squeezed your hand and nodded, the news dawning on you in a different way. « I am » you confirmed. « And, uh… eight weeks along, approximately ». He let out a sigh, visibly surprised. Then, he took both of your hands and kissed them profusely.

« But you’re alright? » he asked, and you nodded again. « Fuck, babe, you scared me. I wasn’t sure if you were dying, or demented, or both » he let out with a chuckle. « Nope… Just… Pregnant », you giggled, still in disbelief over the word. « That’s wonderful » he said emotionally, a smile appearing on your face. You looked at him, scanning his face, just to be sure. « You really think so? » you asked. « Because I know it wasn’t planned, and… ». He gently pressed his finger to your lips and shook his head. « It wasn’t. Fuck. It really wasn’t. But if you’re happy about it… Wait. Are you? » he asked carefully. You gave him a nod and a smile. « I am. I just… I can’t believe it ». He cupped your face and smiled at you tenderly. « If you are happy about it, so am I. That’s great news, Y/N. We made a baby » he said. You couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear, happy tears welling in your eyes. « I thought I’d never be a mom » you whispered, waves of emotions crashing over you as you remembered the first time you were told you couldn’t conceive. « Apparently, you thought wrong » he said, happiness radiating on his face. « And I know our baby already has the best mama » he added emotionally, bringing you into a tight, heartfelt embrace.

The following couple of weeks was emotional but happy. The two of you were ecstatic, determined to welcome this baby as the most beautiful blessing ever. You were still sick and exhausted, but the perspective of welcoming a bundle of joy that was the product of your love certainly made it easier to bear, as did your husband’s gentle care. He seemed determined to make your life easier and give you the most beautiful pregnancy experience, constantly dotting on you and spoiling you. You thought he’d given you the princess treatment in your early courting days but apparently, he was able to take it to another level. You didn’t need the numerous bouquets of flowers (in fact, the smell made you nauseous but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that), nor the many presents, but you enjoyed them nonetheless. Most of all, you loved seeing his excitement and devotion for the baby, whom both of you had yet to see.

Both of you felt a sense of childlike excitement, going for the ultrasound appointment. The closest thing you could compare it to was your niece’s first trip to Disneyland, preparing to meet her favorite princesses. You were a little nervous, praying that the baby was healthy. You’d asked Marshall about the gender, and whether he’d rather have a boy or a girl, but both of you were in agreement that, as long as the baby was healthy, it did not matter. « You know, I always thought being a girl dad was what made me so soft, but I know the baby will have me wrapped around their finger, even if they’re a boy » he said. You knew that it was too early to know the gender anyway, but you couldn’t help it. You kept on trying to imagine what that baby would look like. Marshall held your hand in his as the doctor put the probe on your stomach, squeezing tighter as both of you noticed the furrowing of her eyebrows, looking at the screen. « Alright », she said. « It looks like I made a little mistake while interpreting the hormone rate results » she said, turning to you. You turned to Marshall, a sense of nervosity taking over, unsure what the implications were. Did she mean that there was no baby ? Or that there was some health issues? You felt a lump form in your throat, unable to talk. « What mistake? » Marshall nearly barked, nerves taking over his usual politeness. « Well, you see, we usually use the hormone rates to give an estimate, of how far along the pregnancy is » she explained. « However, we tend to assume that it’s a singleton ». Both of you opened wide eyes and you held two fingers up. « Twins? » you asked in a throaty voice. « Triplets » she announced with a smile. « You’re not as far along as I thought. About six weeks. But all three babies are healthy ».

Part of you wanted to sigh in relief, over the news that the pregnancy was healthy but learning that you were carrying not one, not two, but three babies sent both you and Marshall into a spiral. As you drove home, pictures in hand, none of you knew how to feel, and you both remained rather quiet, exchanging banalities, visibly in shock and in need of some time to process. Not so long ago, you were sure you’d never have kids and now, you had to wrap your head around the fact that you were carrying three. In a way, it was a blessing, for sure. But you’d spent so many years envisioning your life without kids of your own that even the perspective of raising one was overwhelming. Multiplying it by three left you speechless and terrified. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to do this. And you weren’t sure how your husband felt either. That would make him a dad to… Six kids. You spent the night in your bed, trying to get some rest and emotional clarity. You took to Google, typing vague and stupid requests such as « pregnant with triplets and freaking out ». You were hoping for some support, some testimonies of parents who had shared your concerns but made it work. Instead, you were met with hundreds of resources about selective fetal reduction procedures. You read a couple of them but, soon enough, you ended up bawling. You couldn’t bring yourself to consider it. You weren’t really churchy or religious by any means, but part of you wanted to believe that life had given you triplets for a reason, and there was no way you would get rid of one of your babies. They were there, and you already loved them so much, even if the perspective of running after three toddlers was nerve-wracking.

When Marshall walked into your shared bedroom and found you crying, he immediately engulfed you into a hug. « Babe, what’s wrong? » he asked softly. « I’m so scared. Three babies is a lot » you hiccuped. « But I don’t want to kill any of them ». He stepped back and looked at you in shock. « Woah, woah, woah. Calm down. Who said we needed to kill babies? » he asked. « I learned that there’s this surgery, that you… I don’t know. Apparently, people do that when they’re carrying too many babies » you tentatively explained in a shaky voice. « I’m freaking out, Marshall. And I know you are, too ». He hummed and nodded, not denying it. « Of course I am » he said gently. « I mean, I wasn’t prepared for a new baby. And now, knowing there’s three of them… It’s a lot. But we can do it. It’ll just take… a lot of logistics. And diapers, I guess. ». His tone was reassuring, though you could tell he was definitely stressed out. « But how are we going to do? With work and all? And do you think we’ll get any sleep at all? » you asked nervously. He shrugged and pressed a kiss to your forehead. « I don’t know » he admitted. « But we’re lucky enough that we can afford anything we need. If you want to quit your job, you can. Or we can get nannies, or a chef, or whatever. Or I can quit my job. But we’ll manage, I know it ». You let out a sigh and let your head roll on his shoulder. « It’s going to change everything » you said. « Yeah, it is. But we’re doing this together. » he replied. « So… You don’t want to get rid of two of them? » you nervously asked. « No. If you think you can’t handle three kids and you want to have that surgery, I’ll support you. But other than that, it’s not up to me to decide. It’s your body and your pregnancy. And whether we have one, three, or seven babies, I will love and support all of you ».

In the months that followed, Marshall continued to dot on you, trying to provide comfort and reassurance, but you could feel each other’s nervousness. This wasn’t help by the reaction to your pregnancy announcement. Your friends and family, though they were happy for you, were not exactly tactful about the huge change the triplets would bring in their life, sometimes making little jokes about Marshall being « too old for this shit ». They also seemed concerned about the impact on his career, though he made it clear that family would remain his priority, as it had been in the past, and that he would put his career on hold if need be. He reiterated the sentiment when you confronted him about it. « You don’t have to do this, you know? I know your career is important to you, and that you had so many plans in mind. The last thing I want is for the pregnancy to ruin it for you » you told him one night. « I know I don’t have to » he assured you. « But you’re my wife. You became my family the day I put a ring on your finger. We vowed to support each other and you held your part of the deal all these years. You supported me in everything. I want to be here for you and our babies. And it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to sacrifice more than you have » he said. You nodded, swallowing dryly. You had felt his tension and nervousness in the past weeks. He remained loving and caring, but you knew he was trying to anticipate everything. «Look, I’ve already talked to Paul. We cleared the schedule for a while. Two months before your due date, and six months after that. Then, we’ll reevaluate. But it’s not just all the career, you know? We’re welcoming three babies, everything is going to change and, some of it is going to be hard, but it’s also going to be happy. I don’t want to miss any milestone. The first time they smile, the crawling, the first steps… I want to be there. So, really, you giving me three amazing, beautiful, healthy kids is not ruining anything ».

As the pregnancy progressed, however, the nervousness remained. The two of you certainly had a few cold sweats when you tried to prepare for the birth, overwhelmed by the amount of baby stuff. Cribs, diapers, bottles, car seats… Everything was to be multiplied by three. In true dad fashion, he decided to buy a new car to accommodate the needs of your growing family, but you could see his frustration. « I think I’ll just end up repurposing a tour bus » he sighed. « The amount of stuff we’ll be driving around is insane ! Have you seen the space we’ll need, just to fit the stroller and diaper bags?! ». The more you tried to prepare, the less joyful it became. The two of you were still happy, determined to welcome the babies and love them, but you were both overwhelmed, especially Marshall. Carrying the babies, feeling them growing inside of you was your main source of comfort and reassurance but, even though your husband was involved, he didn’t have that bond. For him, it still felt distant and logistical. Until the gender reveal.

Prior to learning you were having triplets, the two of you had toyed with the idea of waiting until the birth to find out the gender. But now that the planning was overwhelming, it felt like knowing the gender would make things easier. You also suspected that it might help Marshall feel a little closer to your little ones, since he would be able to at least picture it a little better. However, you opted out of turning it into a huge event. Carrying triplets was exhausting and you were in no mood to be social for a whole afternoon. Instead, you decided to enjoy the moment, just the two of you. The doctor had given you an envelope with the gender of the triplets, which you have to the owner of your favorite bakery. You ended up with a three-layered cake, the color of each layer representing the gender of one baby. « Are you ready? » you asked as you opened the box, revealing an elegant cake, coated in white frosting. « Ready » he said with a smile. « Still no preference for the gender? » you asked teasingly. « I’m hoping for at least one son, » he admitted. « I love being a girl dad, but six daughters and a wife would feel… A little lonely » he chuckled before crouching in front of you and placing a loving kiss on your belly. « But I love y’all anyway » he whispered. You took a deep breath and cut the cake, careful not to look before he could. « I can’t do it! » you said. « I can’t look! You have a look and tell me! ». He chuckled as you closed your eyes. You heard the cluttering of cutlery, followed by a « HOLY SHIT!!! ». You immediately opened your eyes and saw all blue layers inside of the piece of cake on the plate.

Marshall was covering in mouth, in absolute disbelief. « Boys! All boys! » he said. « Looks like your wish came true » you whispered. He took your hands and kissed you lovingly. « You’re going to be a boy mom » he stated with a smile, knowing full-well you’d always said the boy moms were the most annoying of the species. You giggled and pressed your forehead to his. « Hopefully, I don’t become too annoying » you chuckled. « Do whatever you want, I’m definitely going to be an annoying boy dad » he grinned. «After we eat that cake, I’m ordering Lions jerseys for them. And Jordans. Oh my God, I’m having sons ». You watched lovingly as he rambled about how great it would be to introduce them to football, how much fun they’d have bonding over sports. His joy, which had seemed quieted by the logistical concerns, was overwhelming and he was positively beaming. « I’m quitting » he finally said. « You’re what?! » you asked. « Babe, picture this: you give birth to these three, and you do it twice more. Maybe just twins for the last pregnancy. We only need 11 players for the Mathers football team! ». You rolled your eyes at him and patted his chest. « We’ll see how you feel about it after the first night home from the hospital » you said. He rolled his eyes back at you and placed a kiss on your lips. « I can’t wait to meet these guys ».

#eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #eminem fluff #marshall mathers imagine #eminem imagine

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clappingandcheering · 25 days ago

Text

(Percy Jackson x Reader)

"Together Through It"

Warnings: Vomit, pregnancy.

Percy during your morning sickness, just being a sweetie pie.

The sun had barely risen over Camp Half-Blood, the first light creeping through the cabin window, painting everything in a soft golden hue. But the peaceful morning felt anything but serene as you lay in bed, your stomach twisting uneasily. Morning sickness had been a constant companion lately, and today it was making its presence known again.

You groaned quietly, pulling the covers tighter around you, hoping for a few more minutes of rest. But the nausea was insistent, and your body didn’t seem to care that it was still too early. You tried to sit up, but the moment you did, a wave of dizziness hit, and you barely had time to throw off the blanket before you rushed to the bathroom.

You hadn’t even fully made it when you felt the telltale surge, your stomach lurching violently. As you stumbled toward the toilet, trying to brace yourself, a familiar voice called out from behind you.

“Hey, you okay?” Percy’s voice was thick with sleep, but there was immediate concern as he rushed to your side.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, not quite convincing yourself. “Just… just the morning sickness again.”

But you didn’t have much time to finish your sentence. With a barely contained groan, you bent forward, and the wave of nausea overtook you again. You could feel Percy’s hands at your back, steadying you, and before you knew it, his warm hand was gently holding your hair back, keeping it out of your face.

“I swear, I don’t know how you manage all this,” Percy said softly, his voice tinged with both sympathy and admiration. His fingers ran through your hair gently, brushing it out of your face as you took another moment to breathe.

You could barely manage a weak laugh, wiping your mouth as you straightened up. “It’s the pregnancy. The whole ‘growing a tiny human’ thing isn’t as glamorous as they make it seem.”

Percy chuckled, the sound deep and warm, despite the situation. “Yeah, I don’t think anyone told me the ‘pregnancy glow’ came with, like, fifty pounds of nausea and constant trips to the bathroom.”

You smiled, turning to face him, his gentle touch still at your back as you steadied yourself. “Well, I guess they didn’t tell me about the constant ‘I feel like I’m dying’ moments either.” You leaned against the sink, looking up at him with a half-smile. “But it’s okay. We’ll get through it.”

“Of course we will.” Percy grinned, reaching over to hand you a glass of water. “I’m here for every single crazy moment of it. Even the ones that involve me holding your hair while you, uh, throw up.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, but the affection in his eyes made your heart flutter. “Well, when you put it like that, I feel so glamorous.”

He leaned against the doorframe, still watching you with a soft smile. “You always look glamorous to me.” His voice dropped, playful and tender. “I mean, who else could look this good even when they’re not feeling their best?”

You laughed weakly, sipping the water he’d handed you. “I don’t know if you’re just being nice, but I’ll take it. Thanks, Seaweed Brain.”

“You’re welcome, Wise Girl.” Percy winked at you, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You want to take it easy today? I can totally skip training and just hang out with you, make sure you’re comfy.”

You leaned back against the sink, your shoulders relaxing under his gaze. “I don’t want to ruin your day with my… growing a person drama. You’re not getting out of training that easily.”

Percy made a mock pout, crossing his arms dramatically. “But it’s for you! I can’t have my girlfriend feeling sick while I’m off battling monsters. The only thing I want to fight right now is your nausea.”

You rolled your eyes, but the affection in your gaze said everything you couldn’t quite express. “I’ll survive, Percy. But I think I could use a nap and maybe some ice cream… and I wouldn’t mind some company while I do it.”

A grin spread across Percy’s face as he took a step closer, his arms opening wide. “Now, that’s a mission I can definitely get behind.” He pulled you into a gentle hug, his warmth spreading through you. “We can nap, have ice cream, and I’ll even let you pick the movie—just so long as it’s not another one of those cheesy rom-coms.”

You laughed, snuggling into his chest. “Deal. But I’m warning you, there’s no way around the rom-coms. It’s part of my pregnancy cravings now.”

Percy groaned dramatically. “I should’ve known. But hey, anything for you and our tiny human.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, his hand resting on your back as he pulled you close. “Besides, I get to be the one who spoils you, so I’m good with it.”

You smiled up at him, the nausea momentarily forgotten in the warmth of his embrace. “I’m lucky to have you.”

“You’re the lucky one, trust me.” Percy grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Now, come on. Let’s get you settled and find you some ice cream. Pregnancy cravings await!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he guided you out of the bathroom, his arm wrapped around you, ready to tackle the day with you—nausea, cravings, and all. After all, with Percy by your side, you knew you could face anything, even the not-so-glamorous moments of pregnancy.

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nayeoniiz · 1 month ago

Text

I’m So Sick of Me Too

pairings ❥ jay x fem!reader (ft. eric from the boyz)

point of view ❥ third person, omniscient

warnings ❥ N/A

synopsis ❥ after what felt like a sudden breakup with her boyfriend of many years, y/n finds herself holding onto the remaining pieces chipping from a failed relationship. after wallowing in an isolated self pity, her two best friends convince her to go to a party where she meets the perfect boy to fill the void. unsure if her attraction is genuine or a distraction, y/n has one choice to makeㅡ be with her newfound lover or make it work with her first love.

genre ❥ angst, smut

word count ❥ 15,515

taglist: open, just ask!

author’s note: sorry i’m posting this a little later than i had hoped, i just wanted it to be absolutely perfect. ignore any errors, please and thank you. let me know how yall like it! and feel free to leave any future scene suggestions. the plot is set, but the story is an open book.

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT | ENHYPEN MASTERLIST

ONE.

“babe,” y/n’s voice pulled jay out of his thoughts. he turned his head to look at her, her expression filled with expectancy—the kind that made his chest tighten. he already knew where this was headed. another argument. “you good?” her question was simple, but jay knew any response could open the floodgates.

it was one of his only days off after a long, grueling week. he was utterly drained. all he wanted was a moment of peace. the energy to engage, to explain, wasn’t there. “yeah,” he muttered, giving her a small nod before turning back to the tv. propping his feet on the coffee table, he stared blankly at the screen, hoping she’d let it go. but the silence only seemed to amplify the tension between them.

y/n shifted in her seat, clearly unsatisfied. “okay…” she replied, her tone trailing off before she reached for the remote and paused the show. the sudden silence made him tense. “then why are you so quiet today?” she pressed, her voice carrying an edge.

jay’s fingers tapped idly against his phone. he exhaled slowly. “i just don’t feel like talking right now,” he said, his voice firm but measured. he hoped that would be enough, but he knew she’d likely not take the hint and let him be. “and i’m not trying to argue either.”

y/n’s eyes narrowed slightly at his last sentence, a feeling of defensiveness rising within her. “okay, well, you haven’t said anything in the past hour. you can save the attitude—i was just checking on you.”

his jaw tightened. “i don’t have an attitude, y/n,” jay said, his tone now laced with frustration. he set his phone down on the armrest, resisting the urge to rub his temples. his shoulders stiffened as he tried to focus on keeping his cool, though irritation bubbled under the surface.

y/n crossed her arms, her voice raising with aim. “and i’m supposed to know that how? show me, don’t tell me.” she tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in challenge, her expression poking at the remaining fragments of his patience.

he turned his head toward her, his gaze heavy. “can you not right now?” the plea in his voice wasn’t subtle and his request didn’t fall deaf on her ears. a flip switched inside of her. her angry facade seemed to quickly chip away, and her true emotion seeped through.

“not what? i’m just trying to spend time with my boyfriend,” she shot back, her voice cracking with the weight of unspoken hurt. “the boyfriend i haven’t seen in forever, mind you, because he’s been working all week.”

by now her voice was soft, trembling. each breath she took was weighted in fear of misinterpretation. “and i’m so sorry if it’s selfish of me, but if there’s any day you feel like ‘not talking,’ why does it have to be the one day we actually get to be together?” she averted his gaze, fidgeting with the buttons on the remote, a quiet plea for understanding.

the words hit him, leaving his breath caught in his throat for a moment. he opened his mouth, searching for any way to defend himself, but nothing felt right. “me not talking doesn’t have anything to do with you,” he finally said, leaning back to lay more on the couch. his voice was tight as he moved his gaze to look past her, crossing one leg over his lap, and tapping his foot on the floor with the other.

y/n let out a bitter laugh. “yeah? well, guess who’s the only one being affected by it?!” the volume of her voice caught both of them off guard. shit. she swore she didn’t mean to yell. before she was able to react, to apologize, or at least explainㅡ jay had already straightened himself up, shooting her a warning gaze.

“stop it, y/n.” his voice rose slightly this time, betraying his simmering frustration. her shoulders slugged, her face turning with every muscle trying to hold back the tears brimming. it only heightened their presence as she began blinking them away.

“i just want to talk,” she said, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions as they spilled over, unable to bear the sting of his distant demeanor any longer. “am i really that uninteresting that my own boyfriend doesn’t even want to have a conversation with me?”

the air between them grew thick with unspoken words. the silence stretched long enough for both of their thoughts to race. for jay, it was a desperate search for the right words, something that could fix this—or at least end it. for y/n, it was a growing ache in her chest, a sense that something irreversible was about to happen. she began rubbing her arm softly in a back and forth motion, anticipating.

when jay finally spoke, his voice was steady, deliberate. “i want to break up.” the words hung in the air. she found herself remaining silent as she looked at him, unsure of what to do. while this wasn't exactly something new for them, there was something different about the look in his eyes this time around. their eyes stayed fixed on each other, a distant gaze in place of connection. his words echoed loudly in her ears.

her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. she blinked, her mind racing to catch up. surely, this wasn’t real. surely, he didn’t mean it. her body stilled as she unconsciously dug her fingernails into her arm amidst the comforting massage. her eyes glazed over with tears, squinting in confusion, her heart racing as jay moved to sit closer to her. “what?” was all she could manage to get out, her voice barely above a whisper.

jay didn’t look away this time. his gaze was heavy, tired, but unwavering. “i mean it,” he said, quieter now, but no less certain. looking down, a sigh left his lips. he fought for a moment with her frozen grip before he was able to pry her arm off, stopping her from causing any further harm to herself. and now, all she could think about was how the feeling of his skin on hers hurt so much more. he was looking at her now, but the contact lasted no longer than a second before he turned away. “and i- i thought about it a lot. it’s what’s best for us. i just don’t think we’re good for each other anymore.”

“how can you say that, jay?” her voice cracked as she blinked, tears finally escaping along with a small sob that hardly went unnoticed in the now painfully silent room. she maneuvered, her eyes searching for something in his. he looked at her again with a look she’d never seen before. it scared her. “no. we’re not the kind of couple who breaks up. that’s not how this works, you said that yourself.” indignation clear in her voice, it was hard for her to hold back the resentment she was already starting to feel.

jay only sighed, regretful of his open and now outdated mindset. if he had known their relationship would turn out the way it did, he would have just stayed quiet. in the past she was successful in avoiding his serious attempts, several times, with that reasoning. it was always the most convincing point to get him to stay, she knew he hated not staying true to his word. he hesitated, his cautious gaze meeting hers before he continued. “i'm not happy.”

she had never heard those words before, and their weight hit her hard, leaving her stunned. this couldn’t be real. panic flared in her chest as she grasped for something, anything, to turn the conversation around. “i think this is just one of your moods—” she started, her voice trembling, a fragile attempt to mend what was breaking before he interjected.

“no, y/n. i mean it this time. i can’t do this anymore.”

reading the room became difficult, the usually familiar scene felt foreign now. she didn’t recognize any of the territory that was being invadedㅡ she didn’t know what to do. shaking her head, she offers a small, corner lifted smile. “but we always get through it, jay.“

“it’s different this time, y/n.”

“and why is it different now?” her voice wavered, caught between desperation, anger, and disbelief. her emotions swirled like a storm. staying composed felt impossible; every attempt to ground herself only deepened the ache in her chest. everything was hurting, and all she could do was wish, futilely, that none of this was real.

“this," jay said, physically motioning to the state of the conversation. he turned away to wipe away the stray tears that managed to fall in between blinks. “nothing ever changes. all we do is argue.”

“all couples argue, jay. that’s the reality of things,” she said, the calm in her tone an abrupt contrast to her previous attitudes. “relationships take work, jay. and we always make it work,” her eyes darted to his, desperately looking for any newfound doubt in his words. but there wasn’t any.

“it's not.. just about that," jay said, shaking his head, his voice barely above a whisper now shameful of what he was fixing to admit. “i've tried so hard to make it work, but i'm unhappy, y/n. and i hate that i feel this way, but sometimes it feels like i hate you as much as i love you. do you even know how much that tears me up inside?" his face was repentant at his admission, it was a sinful hidden thought that he previously denied since its first conception. he never wanted to verbalize it because it only highlighted how shitty he truly was to feel that way toward her.

"you don’t mean that." y/n shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut as if the gesture could block out the anguish his words just caused. her body went cold, her senses wasting no time overwhelming her all at once. jay bit the inside of his lip, his teeth silently clattering against the soft tissue.

everything in his heart ached, a deep, unrelenting pain that seemed to grow with every second. he was caught in conflict—the desperate desire to follow through with the breakup, to free himself from the heaviness that had been suffocating him, clashing with the torment of knowing how deeply his choice would hurt her. it wasn’t just her pain he feared; it was his own, the thought of watching her break because of him. but he had to do what was right.

"i wish i didnt, but it's the truth, y/n. i can't be who i want to be in this relationship. i can't keep living like this."

"jay…" his silence now weighed more than any words could, it tore through her like a jagged blade. "is this really what you want?" for a moment, his eyes softened, but it was gone before she could catch it. the silence stretched, heavy with all the words he couldn't say. she wanted to cling onto the fleeting feeling, to believe it meant he was having doubts. but when his lips parted, it wasn't the response she was hoping for.

"it's for the best."

“no, no, no, no,” the finality of his words shattered what was left of her hope. the barrier of control she had on her emotions ruptured as she shook her head. she hesitantly reached her hand out, pulling it away quickly to avoid any more possible rejection from the boy. her heart couldn’t endure much more. "please.. don't do this."

"i'm sorry, y/n," he slowly approached her, wrapping his arms around her. she let him pull her into a hug, holding him close and tight as she allowed all of her anger and grief to wash away along with the salty tears staining her cheeks. though allowing his embrace would only further affirm her acceptance of the end, which is the last thing she wanted, she needed to feel his touch. especially knowing this may be the last time he'll ever hold her.

her chest tightened as she buried her face in his chest, clinging to his steady heartbeat, a cruel contrast to her own. neither of them spoke or moved for a while. a couple minutes in, she noticed that he was now trembling against her. it broke her heart even more. from the way he seemed to hold her just as close for comfort, she knew it was hurting him too. she supposed, maybe, it was for the best. she pulled away slightly, quickly regretting it as she saw how his eyes were red and glistened over, cheeks wet with the silent tears he shed. "can we at least be friends?" the words felt hollow, a desperate attempt to keep him in her life, even though she knew it would never be enough.

he only nods though he knows she didn't truly want that for herself. placing his hold on her arms, gently before slowly removing himself from her embrace. he wiped away his tears and cleared his throat. the only thing on his mind now was getting out of there before he could go back on his word. he had to remind himself that this was the right thing to do. even if it meant hurting them both. clearing his throat he spoke up, regaining his composure to be the voice of reason they needed in the moment. "i guess i should head out now. i think we both need time to ourselves.”

"yeah.."

he took the time to quickly head to the door without waiting to see her reaction. his hands were shaking, the weight of the world only seemed to press down upon his shoulders, only now wishing he could've pushed through and tried to make things work one last time. but he knew that wasn't possible, and it just wasn't worth putting her through any more than he already had. the door clicked shut behind him, leaving an echo of silence in his absence.

the month after the breakup felt like a blur for y/n. while the world around her seemed to move forward, she remained stuck in a loop of missing jay, reaching out to him, waiting for his replies, and doing everything in her power to keep their connection alive despite the fact that he was clearly starting to pull away.

she couldn’t help it. every morning she found herself wanting to talk to him, by any means. today was no different as she looked at her thumb hovering over his contact. it had become almost instinctual, reaching out to him no matter how embarrassing it was starting to become. she took a deep breath, ignoring her reluctant thoughts and started typing.

heyy jay :) haven’t heard from you in a minute. everything okay?

she sent it before she could second guess herself, staring at the screen as the message went through. her heart raced as she waited for his response. then, the minutes passed, stretching into what felt like hours. she spent a while scrolling aimlessly through her notifications, trying hard to look for the one label that refused to appear. two hours had gone by, and still nothing.

she clicked the power button with a sigh, pulling her legs closer to her chest as she rested her chin on her knees, staring blankly at the phone. the silence of her lonely apartment felt so loud now. the lack of response made the small ache in her chest turn into a deeper, more persistent pain. she hated feeling this way, vulnerable, needy, desperate. it wasn’t like her.

she remained frozen in her spot on the bed, feeling like she couldn’t move until she got what she wanted. juggling through every scenario in her head, she almost began sinking into the self loathing feeling. but one look at the clock on her lock screen seemed to pull her out a little bit. she reminded herself that being pessimistic was the last thing she needed to do. instead, she should speak her desire into existence. “calm down, y/n,” she whispered to herself. “it’s still early. he’ll reply later, he always does.”

getting out of bed, she stretched a bit before making her way into the kitchen. at least, this time around, she could still make the most of her day. she was lucky in that sense; it was getting easier to distract herself from thoughts of him. before she realized it, hours had gone by and she was sitting in her living room watching tv when her phone finally pinged.

muting the sound of the show, she quickly glanced down, her heart nearly pouncing out of her chest. jay’s name. her fingers hovered above the screen, the moment she read his texts, that feeling of dread that she’d been holding back all day crashed over her. it felt like he’d handed her a piece of paper instead of a message from someone she’d spent every waking moment with for years. it was brief and impersonal, so unlike jay, yet so familiar as of late.

hey, yeah. things are good, just tired

she stared blankly at the message for a while, continuously rereading, mouthing the words in every tone she could, trying to read in between the few lines he offered her, but it was impossible to make something out of nothing. and it felt like he was doing the bare minimum, acknowledging her existence by replying as if it was an obligation he had to fulfill. she figured that her reply could spark a more active response.

i feel you. guess it’s been rough for both of us, huh. i hope you’ve been good otherwise. it’s getting colder these days, hope you’re staying warm ☺️

she waited in the chat upon seeing that he immediately opened her text, watching the three dots bubble up on her screen, only to vanish soon after. she stared at the notification as it remained unanswered for a while. “read at 2:23pm.” twenty minutes had gone by and she was unsure of what to say next or if she should say anything at all.

despite her first failed attempt, y/n decided to brush it off and push forward. biting her lip, she took her time drafting and perfecting her next message. whatever she was going to say next had to warrant a response. if he saw how bad she wanted to talk, surely he’d give in. jay was never the kind of guy to intentionally neglect her feelings. it wasn’t in his character to hurt her.

so, what’s been keeping you busy lately?

she typed, trying to sound casual, but her confidence faltered when she read it over. it was the kind of text she would’ve sent months ago, back when their relationship was solid and they could talk for hours without feeling the need for a pause.

this time, her message read “delivered”. but she watched as the three dotted bubble appeared again, and decided to leave the app while she continued waiting. this time, he would respond differently, she thought, he had to. holding on to a glimmer of hope, she gave it thirty minutes. but her phone only went quiet. what a waste.

opening instagram, she opted to scroll to distract herself from thinking of him further and that’s when she saw it. jay’s story. it wasn’t anything remarkable, just a picture of him out with some of their mutual friends. but the fact that he was posting on his story, without replying to her text, stung. she scoffed in an attempt to brush off the hurt she was beginning to feel, telling herself it was no big deal. it didn’t help much. no matter how she tried to view it, it was a silent reminder that his focus was elsewhere now.

but, maybe it was nothing. maybe he just didn’t feel like texting. she tried once again to reason, but the thought still lingered, gnawing at her. why couldn’t he just reply? it was evident now that jay just wasn’t going to reach out on his own; he wasn't going to do anything. she’d have to be the one to make the effort, while holding onto the hope of things going back to how they were. maybe she was being too much, doing too much. “if i leave him alone for a few days, he’ll feel it, too.”

it had been days now and the reality of the situation was truly starting to sink in. over the span of the weeks they’d agreed to be friends, jay’s attempts to deny more interactions had finally come to an end. they were flat out doing no contact now. she tried deactivating her social media accounts in an effort to stop hurting herself further by looking at his page, but all it led to was viewing anonymously online. she wasn’t talking to anybody at that point, burying herself deeper into isolation as she began ignoring even her own best friends. but, it wasn’t something the girls were taking lightly.

she was laid out on the couch, the living room becoming a pigsty she found refuge in. empty bags of chips, noodle packages, discarded water bottles, candy wrappers, as well as tear soaked tissues flooded the table and floors. she lay sprawled out on the couch watching a romance k-drama, feeling envious of the love that the main character was receiving though she was barely paying attention. she was moreso staring through the screen rather than at it, not bothering to retain much of the plot, just trying to fill the void in any way she could.

she barely flinched upon her doorbell ringing. in fact, she didn’t even hear it. pulling her blanket more over her body, she closed her eyes, not opening them until she heard the beeping noises her door only made when the passcode was being typed in. she shot up in a panic. only three people knew of her codeㅡ one of them being jay, and she could not risk him seeing her living in such an unkempt manner. making quick of her movements, she grabbed an armful of the trash and ran to the kitchen to toss it out. she stayed in the kitchen grabbing a trash bag as she heard the door open and shut, followed by light footsteps. a familiar voice called out.

“y/n, are you home?”

“yujin?” two girls, yujin and chaewon, walked into the living room grimacing at the state it was in. a small hint of rotting processed food was pungent in the air, to which the girls slightly scrunch their noses at. y/n couldn’t hide her disappointment as she walked into the room, the trash bag rustling with each step. “chae? what are you guys doing here?”

chaewon immediately recognized the girl’s expression and playfully rolled her eyes in an attempt to lighten the mood. “wow, we’re so happy to see you too, y/n.” her words make y/n mentally facepalm at the rudeness she’d unknowingly displayed, frowning as she walked closer to them. without a word, the girls begin picking up the trash, discarding them into the bag y/n held. yujin wasted no time wondering off to get cleaning supplies, coming back to wipe the table. it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence they sat in while they cleaned, but it was clear that something definitely needed to be confronted now.

“sorry guys. i was just expecting someone… you know, else.”

“like who? he who shall not be named?” yujin asked, referencing jay, but it only made y/n grimace. the girl had struck a nerve. the statement only made her think of him more. it wasn’t yujin’s fault, though. none of her friends even knew they weren’t on speaking terms anymore. a knot formed in y/n’s stomach having to silently acknowledge how silly her initial thoughts were. jay had made zero effort to even talk to her, what sense would it make for him to visit?

“i don’t know.” but she did, and so did they. that’s why they were here to begin with. after the mess was all cleaned up, and you could finally see the beauty that was y/n’s living room again, they guided y/n to sit on the couch. chaewon was perched on the arm of it while yujin sat cross-legged on the floor, both watching y/n like she was an emotional bomb ready to explode at any given moment. the tension in the room felt like a third guest.

chaewon, the usual mediator, broke the silence first. treading lightly on upfront confrontation, she decided to stick with a lighthearted approach to the situation. what y/n needed was a friend, not a therapist. “okay, spill. when’s the last time you left this place?”

y/n’s silence spoke volumes as she sighed, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. “i don’t know. a while?” it wasn’t like she wasn’t keeping track, she could tell you it's been 33 days since she last saw jay, 11 days since he stopped viewing her story, and 9 days since his last text to her. how long she had been in her isolation, though? she couldn’t say, all the days seemed to blur in that category.

yujin raised an eyebrow. “define ‘a while.’ days? weeks… a month?”

now, y/n’s voice was barely above a whisper. “two weeks, maybe.”

“two weeks?!” chaewon groaned, grabbing the throw pillow and swatting y/n with it, adding a bit of force in an attempt to knock some sense into the girl. she supposed she underestimated how much it was affecting y/n. though she was upset at the girl’s response to her breakup, she felt worse that she didn’t think to step in sooner. “babe, no wonder. you’re practically fermenting in here. i don’t hate to say this, but it’s time for divine intervention.”

y/n sucked in a breath, but didn’t argue. instead, she stared at the freshly cleaned coffee table, her thoughts wandering back to jay. the way he used to rest his feet there, watching tv, the way he—

yujin snapped her fingers in front of y/n’s face. “nope. i can see it in your eyes— we’re not doing that today. chae, tell her the plan.”

“ah, right! the plan,” chaewon said, leaning in with a grin and wiggling her eyebrows, “is simple: you’re coming with us to a party tonight. and before you even start, you’re not busy, you’re not tired. none of that. i don’t want to hear any excuses.”

y/n’s face scrunched as she blinked. “a party? seriously? what are we? teenagers?”

“yes, seriously,” yujin said, standing up and grabbing y/n’s hands to pull her to her feet, the girl not fighting back as she stood. “you’re never too old to party. and, girl… you need this. sitting in here is only hurting you, and you know it.”

“but—”

“yes, butts! that’s exactly what i expect you to be shaking tonight,” chaewon interjected. “yujin and i already have the vision. you’ll pop out in a bomb ass outfit, we’ll pregame to set the mood, you know just get the vibes up. it's gonna be fun!” her eyes twinkled as she envisioned the whole scene. she waved her hand, slowly moving it in front of her face as if the girls could see what she was imagining. “you’ll drink a little, dance a little, smoke if you’re feeling good, and maybe even forget about… him.”

the slight, bitter acknowledgment of the boy left y/n feeling a lump form in her throat, she tried to shake off the thought of jay from creeping up again. but it was hard to stop once she already started, and everything in her heart was telling her no. a party was the last thing she needed. she could barely hide her hurt from her own friends, how could they expect her to pull through for hours at a party?

“i just don’t think i’m ready.”

“is that not the point?” yujin said gently, softly caressing y/n’s face with a sympathetic pout. the girl could only look away, feeling as though her eyes would be a dead giveaway to the truthㅡ it would hurt too much. sensing the mood shift, yujin sighed. “hey. you don’t have to be ready to start moving on, we don’t expect you to. we know how much you lovedㅡ sorry, love that man. but staying alone like this isn’t good for you, y/n.”

“you’ve even pulled away from us, we’re worried about you,” chaewon nodded, walking over to the girls and grabbing y/n’s hand. “all we’ve been thinking about lately is you. how you’re feeling, how you’re doing, constantly wondering if you’re okay. and now that we’ve seen the mess you’ve found comfort in, in your solitude, you deserve to at least get your mind off of it for one night. then we can start helping you heal tomorrow.”

the unshakeable resistance y/n once had, started to falter as she looked at her friends’ determined faces. they weren’t just here to drag her out of the house, they genuinely cared. she wondered how much her absence, and wallowing in self pity, was truly affecting the people around her. even if she wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to go, maybe it was worth a shot. after all, they went through the trouble of planning things out, as well as helping her clean her depressive mess. it was worth trying for them.

“fine,” she muttered. “but if it sucks, i’m leaving early.”

“deal,” chaewon said, clapping her hands. “now, let’s find you something hot to wear. i heard jay’s not going to be there, but let’s make him regret losing you anyway.”

yujin laughed, linking her arm with y/n’s and leading her toward the bedroom. the world seemed to start shining brighter as they walked. “yup. and who knows? maybe you’ll meet someone new.” y/n could only give a small, reluctant smile at the words. she wasn’t sure she believed their optimism, but for the first time in weeks, she felt hopeful. even if the night didn’t fix her heartbreak, at least she wouldn’t be alone with it. and, well, she’s got a blackout long overdue.

after showering and getting ready on their own, it was time for yujin and chaewon to work their magic; “project sad bitch to bad bitch” as yujin proudly proclaimed. chaewon flipped through y/n’s closet quietly, her fingers brushing against the variety of fabrics and patterns hanging from the hangers. “god, y/n,” the girl giggled in disbelief. “do you even wear half of this shit?” y/n only shrugged from her spot on the bed, towel wrapped snugly around her body barely blocking the AC’s cool breeze on her moist skin.

“i don’t know. maybe.”

“seems like you don’t know a lot of things lately, huh?”

“hm, i guess not.”

yujin sat cross-legged on the floor, unpacking her makeup bag and moving a lamp to complete her little setup. huffing at the attitude her friends were catching with each other, she turned to y/n with pleading eyes. “look, we’re not leaving until you’re ready. and no,” she added, looking up at the shivering girl. “sweatpants are not an option.”

confusion flooded y/n’a face as she tilted her head at the girl. “i wasn’t going to wear sweatpants.”

“good,” chaewon said, getting to the back of the closet, a small gleam catching her eyes. pulling out a simple satin slip dress, eyes widening with a smile at the piece. the dress that was destined for setting the mood. “ooh, now this could work.”

y/n eyed the dress and shook her head immediately. it was a part of a lingerie set that she had misplaced, something not meant to be seen in broad daylight, let alone by strangers at a party. she coughed, swatting away the memories that flooded back at the sight of it. there was no way she could wear that. “no. it’s too… i don’t know. they’re pajamas, it’s too much.”

“it’s not,” yujin said firmly, standing to drape the dress against y/n’s frame, already planning out the makeup look she could do to compliment it. it was clearly the best option they had, its slight sexual undertones only further confirming it was the key to a perfect night waiting to happen. “pajamas or not, it’s perfect. beyond that even. tonight’s not about hiding anyway.”

y/n could only sigh in response, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her towel. “i’m not trying to hide, i just don’t feel like being seen.”

“is that not the same thing?” chaewon said, crossing her arms as she gave y/n a reassuring look. “look, we’re not saying you have to feel like a star tonight. we just want you to feel…you know, more like yourself again.”

yujin crouched in front of y/n, her expression softening. giving her best puppy eyes, she pouted and held hands up to the girl, begging with a small shake to emphasize her desperation. “just try, okay? it’s one night. you deserve to feel good about yourself, even if it’s just for a few hours.”

“i don’t feel bad about myself-” she paused when the girls gave her a knowing glance, making her stumble on her words. she glanced between them, her chest tightening. they weren’t forcing her, but they weren’t exactly letting her disappear, either. “you know what? fine,” she said finally, reaching out to take the dress. it was true, the dress was beautiful. the rose pink color highlighted by the sheen of the satin, with black laced edges adding the perfect contrast, made it a staple piece. she had forgotten all about its aura.

“that's what i’m talking ‘bout!” chaewon grinned and reached down to give yujin a round of high fives, their squeals only projecting a small portion of their excitement. y/n took the hanger and made her way into the bathroom. after a few minutes of staring at her reflection in the mirror, she stepped out in the dress. the fabric clung to her frame delicately, the soft sheen catching the light. she looked gorgeous, even with her hair undone. the room was silent as they shamelessly gawked at their best friend who only shifted awkwardly under their gaze.

“wow,” yujin whispered. “you look…”

“so fucking beautiful,” chaewon finished.

y/n only turned to look at herself in the mirror again, her lips pressing into a thin line. hesitant, she stared and tried to do some test poses. she just didn’t know how to feel. an internal scream match ensued, her thoughts becoming two conflicting forcesㅡ one side screaming no, the other trapped in a state, wondering: could i? shaking away her thoughts, she goes with her initial one. “i don’t know, guys. it's not me.”

“it is you,” yujin said gently. “maybe a part of you that you’ve forgotten about, but it’s still you. it wasn’t in your closet for no reason.”

while she wasn’t wrong, the reason definitely wasn’t for this. nonetheless she swallowed the lump in her throat, nodding slightly. juggling the pros and cons in her head, she made note of their actions that led her to this point. she owed it to them. “okay,” she said quietly. “let’s go before i change my mind.”

“makeup first~” chaewon sang out as she guided y/n over to the area where yujin had set everything up. “and i can do your hair, too. two birds, one stone. let’s go.”

the city lights blended into a colorful gradient of neon streaks as the taxi sped through the bustling streets. inside, the atmosphere was electric. y/n, chaewon, and yujin sat in the back, their laughter and chatter blending with the rhythmic hum of the car, the radio playing joyful tunes only further setting the mood.

chaewon, ever the instigator, held up a bottle of peach flavored soju, opening it and holding it to the roof. there was a gleam in her eyes that demonstrated her happiness more than words could explain. “to a night of unforgettable memories,” she declared, her tone light as she carefully waved the bottle mischievously. “with my very best friends.”

yujin grinned, lifting an imaginary bottle as well, reaching over chaewon’s lap to grab y/n’s hand and force her to do the same. “and to making sure y/n doesn’t regret this tomorrow,” she teased.

y/n chuckled a genuine, hearty laugh as she shook her head. “i’m not the one who needs to worry,” she retorted, her voice light but with a hint of challenge. she reached into chaewon’s bag pulling out a plastic shot glass. “is this even smart to be doing in a moving car?”

“yolo,” chaewon smiled in response, pouring a generous amount into the cup, nearly filling it to the brim. “bottoms up,” she urged, her tone playful yet insistent. with a resigned smile, y/n took the shot, the sharpness of the soju’s flavor warming her from the inside. she licked her lips and handed the cap to chaewon, who refilled it with a flourish.

“your turn,” chaewon said, carefully handing the cup to yujin who playfully raised an eyebrow, feigning fake reluctance. “peer pressure at its finest,” she laughed, but took the shot with no hesitation. the trio continued their pregame ritual, the taxi’s interior filled with their laughter and the clinking of bottles. as the cityscape passed by, the anticipation of the party awaiting them grew, each of them eager for the night that awaited them.

when the taxi pulled up, the bass from the party reverberated through the car, the music and laughter spilling out into the cool night air. y/n giggled, already feeling the happy buzz of the drinks from the ride over. chaewon and yujin, also tipsy, were practically bouncing with excitement as they stepped out of the car.

“drive safe, dear! have a good night,” chaewon waved to the driver. as they stepped through the door, they were immediately hit with the scent of perfume, alcohol, and excitement. the large living room was filled with people laughing, dancing, and chatting in their own little groups. y/n swayed slightly to the rhythm, the tipsiness from pregaming still actively lingering in her veins. chaewon and yujin were right beside her, their laughter bright and carefree, matching the energy around them. she pulled her jacket tighter, but it was more out of habit than discomfort.

at first, y/n did feel a bit out of place, but chaewon immediately linked arms with her, pulling her further into the scene. “you’re gonna love it here, i promise,” she grinned, her voice a little louder than usual to compensate for the music’s volume.

yujin, already catching the beat of the music, nudged her playfully. “yeah! tonight’s for fun, no worries.” they made their way over to heeseung, the host, who greeted them with a friendly smile and a quick hug. “hey, guys. glad you could make it! the party’s just getting started.”

y/n couldn’t help but stare at the man in front of her. he was tall, dark, and handsome. the small rose tint that coated his cheeks, caused by the alcohol, pulled the whole look together. it was hard to look away. wow. upon noticing this, chaewon leaned in, whispering to y/n, “heeseung’s the best. and he throws the best parties.”

y/n smiled as she finally broke her stare to meet chaewon’s eyes, her voice a little slurred but still light. “yeah, he seems chill.”

heeseung turned his attention to the girl who wasn’t as familiar with him, his smile faltering just a little. he leaned in closer to chaewon, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone so that y/n wouldn’t hear. “by the way, jay ended up changing his mind about not coming. he’s over there,” he said, glancing toward the other side of the room where jay stood talking to some guys.

his words seemed to sober chaewon up a bit as she tried not to make a reactive face as her eyes followed to where he was motioning to. there he was in the flesh, having the audacity to be enjoying himself while his ex-girlfriend still had the luxury of not knowing of his presence. and chaewon needed to make sure to keep it that way all night. instead, she flashed a quick grin, pulling y/n into the next part of the conversation. “man, we’re taking a cab home. you know what that means?”

“we can get fucked up,” y/n exclaimed doing a little happy dance, humoring the few that could hear what she was saying. heeseung only offered chaewon an encouraging smile, though he wasn’t sure her approach was the best. but what did he know, he was too drunk to really care about it past surface level. yujin, just as blissfully unaware of the situation, grinned ear to ear and high-fived y/n. “now that’s the energy i love to see!”

“yeah, yeah. let’s go mingle now!” chaewon said, waving to heeseung as she led the trio made towards the main area where majority of the people occupied. and of course, with no sign of jay. she spotted jake and sunghoon nearby, and with a social grin, she guided the girls along to greet them, reminding herself she needed to enjoy her time too.

“jake! hoon!” she called out, her voice full of energy. jake looked up from his conversation and grinned, his eyes trailing to each face as he greeted them. “chaewon, yujin, and… no fucking way. is that y/n?! in the flesh?!” he went over to give her a hug, and it signaled to her that he was definitely drunk. “finally, we get to see your pretty face again. it’s about time you join in on the fun!”

y/n, although a little confused, returned the hug and gave the boy a playful smile. “yeah. i guess i needed a little push to leave the house. you know how breakups get you sometimes,” she joked. probably not the funniest thing she could’ve said, but it was real.

sunghoon raised an eyebrow teasingly, making sure not to dwell on the literal aspects of it. he looked her up and down, almost drooling at the sight of her. the way the dress hugged her body, the way her jacket complimented the colors perfectly, even her flats fit the look. “well, i guess it worked out nicely. you look like you’re doing great now.”

yujin laughed, leaning in as if she were about to say something revolutionary. “it’s the party effect. you get here and forget everything.”

“just what i needed,” y/n said, letting herself get lost in the music. she wondered why she avoided everyone for so long. their presence made her feel ten times better in a couple of minutes than she’d felt on her own all month. it was refreshing.

“that’s the spirit!” jake grinned, looking past the girls to see jay walking over again with drinks in hand. thinking quickly, he gestured to the group behind him. “hey, rina and winter are over there. go give them a pleasant surprise.”

chaewon quickly perked up with enthusiasm at the mention of their other girl friends. “ooh! let’s go say hi!”

they headed over to karina and winter, who were standing by the snack table. karina greeted them with a playful smile. “there you guys are! i thought you’d bail on us. hey, y/n! it’s nice to see you again,” her eyes smiled at the girl, admiring the glow. maybe time away was what y/n needed to prosper. karina, like everyone else, was happy to see her again nonetheless.

y/n shook her head, her drunken voice bubbling with laughter. the world seemed to have a hint of saturation to it that she hadn’t seen in a while now. she couldn’t help but to pull karina into a hug, the gesture surprising both of them at the suddenness. “hey! and of course not. we just had to make sure we were up to par. can’t all be natural beauties like you girls.”

“oh stop it, y’all are gorgeous,” winter chimed in, raising her cup with a sigh of content before taking a sip. “man, i needed this after midterms. nothing better than a heeseung party to recharge your academic battery.”

“you know, for a guy that’s so popular amongst everyone, i'm surprised i didn’t know him before this,” y/n pondered for a second. the group laughed, “well, welcome to the real world outside of a relationship. people start existing again.” and soon enough, they were swept up in more conversation and dancing. after a few shots, y/n could feel herself getting lost in the rhythm, her laughter mixing with the music. as they moved back to the dance floor, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she could forget about the weight of it all—at least for tonight. her tipsiness had her in an effortlessly happy state, but she felt like it could be more hype. she leaned closer to chaewon and yujin, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the bass.

“i’m gonna grab a drink,” she said, her lips curling into a small smile. “you guys want anything? shots?”

yujin’s eyes lit up, and she nudged chaewon. “ohhh my god, yes. shots sound perfect.” chaewon grinned, raising her hand slightly. “tequila, if they have it. lime, salt, the good shit, you know how i like it.”

y/n laughed, making mental note of the girls’ orders. “got it, tequila on the rocks for the baddies. i’ll be back.” she spun on her heel, her steps sure as she wove through the crowd, the glow of the party lights casting a warm glow on her skin. emboldening her every move, the alcohol seemed to sink deeper into her veins, the electric energy of the room carrying her forward with effortless grace.

the kitchen set a different mood in contrast to the other rooms she and her friends had occupied that night. the loud, bass-heavy music from the living room was muffled here, replaced by softer chatter and the occasional clink of bottles against glasses. the room smelled faintly of spilled liquor and citrus wedges, surprisingly pleasant, and the counters were crowded with a mess of an inviting display of liquor bottles and red cups.

she ran her hand along the countertop that was cool on her heated skin. her eyes skimmed the options in front of her. there the tequila was for chaewon and yujin, but which brand to choose? she didn’t know. she bit her lip, trying to focus despite the pleasant buzz in her head craving excitement. she didn’t even realize a male figure had made his way over to her.

“tequila, huh?” his voice was smooth, unexpected, and it instantly pulled her attention to the right. there he was, leaning casually against the counter, his posture relaxed but commanding. the soft golden light from the kitchen highlighted his sharp features, a warm glow casting over his slightly tousled hair and the inviting grin that played on his lips.

she blinked, momentarily thrown off by his presence. there was something boyish about him, yet his looks contrasted the calculated composure in his eyes. once she realized her staring, she quickly recovered, her lips curving into a teasing smile unsure of where such confidence came from.“depends who you ask.”

he chuckled, the sound low and light, yet somehow warm despite its brevity. “true. i guess it depends on the night, too,” he mused, his eyes casually following her movements—curious, but not intrusive. his gaze lingered on the tequila bottles, gesturing to it. “bold choice, though,” he added, his tone easy and confident. “i guess it suits you.”

y/n tilted her head slightly, looking at the bottle she’d unknowingly chosen. her lips curved into a small smile, intrigued by his words. “what makes you think that?”

he shrugged with effortless charm, his laugh hypnotizing, like the world stopped with each chuckle that escaped his lips. and she was almost sure it did. “you’ve got this energy—like you’re fun, but there’s more to you than what meets the eye.” her eyebrows furrowed faintly in intrigue, but she kept her tone playful, tinged with a hint of caution. just because he seemed funny, and attractiveㅡ well, insanely attractive, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t keep her guard up; he was still a stranger. but his words seemed to draw her in nonetheless.

“you’ve got a lot of assumptions for someone i just met.”

“maybe,” he said with a slight shrug, “but i’m usually right.” he extended a hand toward her, his grin widening. “i’m eric, by the way. figured this was a good time to properly introduce myself since i’ve seen you around but never got the chance.”

she glanced at his hand before shaking it, his palm warm and his touch firm. “y/n,” she said simply, letting her name hang in the air for a moment. he shook her hand, slow and drawn out, before he reluctantly pulled away. it didn’t go unnoticed. he repeated it as if trying it out for himself, the syllables making themselves at home on his tongue. his grin softened into something more genuine. “that’s a pretty name. suits you.”

a faint warmth crept throughout her body at the compliment, but she quickly masked it with a smile, biting her lip as she tried to ignore the heat making its way to her cheeks. “thanks. so, you’re just out here handing out compliments tonight, huh?”

“only when they’re deserved,” he shot back smoothly, his gaze unwavering. there was something so captivating about him. his personality, maybe even ego, seemed big, but his confidence wasn’t overbearing. it was enticing and y/n found herself relaxing more, her initial purpose for coming to the kitchen already slipping her mind. “so, do you always pick tequila at parties, or is tonight special?” he raised an eyebrow slightly.

“tonight’s definitely special,” she replied, leaning against the counter herself now, mirroring his relaxed stance. the corners of her lips tugged upward, her drunken state aiding in loosening her posture. “but i’ll admit, it’s not my usual go-to.”

her words made him grin, his expression lighting up as if he’d just found the perfect opening to extend their conversation. his face seemed to soften slightly, and for a moment, y/n couldn’t help but envy how his confidence radiated. he knew how attractive he was, and knew exactly how to lean into it without making it feel forced.

“lucky for you, i’m a tequila enthusiast,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, already reaching for the bottle and two shot glasses. his movements were sure, natural, as if he’d done this a hundred times before. everything about this man highlighted how sure of himself he was, like he knew the line between charm and arrogance and danced on it perfectly. “mind if i join you?”

y/n let out a small laugh, her gaze following his every movement as he poured the tequila. there was something mesmerizing about the way his hands worked—the smooth, controlled motions, his fingers brushing over the counter as if every little touch was intentional, effortless. the lighting of the room seemed to accentuate the sensuality of the moment; it made the air feel charged. everything about him, from the casual lean to the way his eyes stayed locked on hers, felt like a slow dance, a tension hummed between them.

“you know what? sure, why not?” she finally managed to say, her voice a little breathless, though she couldn’t quite tell if it was from the alcohol or the way the scene had shifted. eric slid a glass toward her, his fingers grazing the edge of the counter, his movements slow as if savoring the moment. he leaned in just enough to hold her gaze, his eyes glinting with a playful spark, and she felt her heart race a little. raising his glass, his smirk widened. “to… letting loose and making the most of tonight?”

y/n’s lips parted in a smile that felt so easy, so unguarded, like it was the most natural thing in the world to let go and enjoy the moment. all her worries of the night seemed to slip her mind as she tapped her glass against his, the muted background becoming more apparent making the brief clink of glass feel louder than it should have. “cheers to that.”

they downed the shots in unison, the tequila burning a familiar path down her throat before settling into a warm heat in her chest. she grabbed a slice of lime as a needed chaser, squeezing the sour juices into her mouth. now, the buzz she’d felt earlier amplified, wrapping around her like a comforting haze. she could feel herself relax further as eric leaned in closer to keep the conversation flowing. their eyes meet again and an unfamiliar, yet alluring feeling crept up. he was so captivating. one look from him felt like transcending.

“so, what about you?” she asked, setting her glass down with a soft clink against the counter. she was becoming more curious about him. every second, imagining his life story, his reasons for coming, who he came with, she wanted to know everything. her tone carried a teasing edge as she raised an eyebrow. “are you the life of the party or just here to keep an eye on the tequila?”

he chuckled, his shoulders shaking slightly as if her words had struck the right note. there was something disarming about the way he laughed, and y/n couldn’t help but feel a small surge of accomplishment, her desire to keep conversing growing. “somewhere in between,” he admitted, his smile widening, the confidence in his voice undeniable. “but tonight, i think i’m here for more interesting conversations.”

the subtle compliment tugged at y/n, piquing her newfound confidence and before she knew it, she was leaning in just a little more, drawn into the rhythm of his words. she’d forgotten how much fun it was to flirt, how desirable she was over the years. none of this was one sided. “well, lucky you ran into me, then.”

“lucky, indeed,” eric replied, his voice dropping just enough to carry weight, and his gaze shifted to hers with intensity, the moment stretching out longer than expected. her breath hitched. it felt like time slowed down for just a second before she regained her composure. before she could fully process the warmth creeping up her spine from eric’s gaze, a shift in the atmosphere almost caught her attention. across the kitchen, jay walked in, his empty beer bottle dangling carelessly from his fingers, searching for somewhere to dispose of the glass. his expression was relaxed at first, but the moment his eyes locked onto her frame, he froze.

y/n didn’t notice him immediately either. her back was turned to him and she was much too absorbed in her conversation with eric. but jay was peeping everything. the way she laughed, the way she leaned just slightly toward eric, and most notably, that dress. it wasn’t just any dress. it was his favorite, the one she had only worn on special occasions, none of which ever saw light beyond the bedroom.

a knot twisted in jay’s chest, and his mind spun with a rush of emotions—anger, jealousy, and regret. he couldn’t pinpoint which hurt more, but they all clawed at him. was she just here for sex? and was she wearing that to enhance her attraction? he was convinced the second he heard the sound of her laughter, consumed by whatever sweet little nothings eric was telling her as she leaned in toward him. it stung. he hated how much power she still had over him, how she could still hurt him so deeply without even realizing.

eric, perceptive as ever, immediately caught the shift in the air. when his eyes flicked over jay and back to y/n, his grin widened ever so slightly. without missing a beat, he poured another shot, his movements casual yet carrying a certain smugness as he slid the glass toward y/n. “ready for another?” he asked lightly, though his gaze hardly wavered from jay.

“absolutely,” she replied with a laugh, oblivious to the silent exchange happening right in front of her. she was too intoxicated, both from the liquor and eric’s attention—to feel the tension brewing. the scene unfolding in front of her went unnoticed. eric, with his charm, was asserting his dominance over jay in a way that was bold, yet subtle enough to fly under y/n’s radar.

eric poured his own shot with an almost lazy confidence, his movements smooth and conceited as though every action was meant to say, i’ve already won. raising and clinking his glass with y/n’s, his lips curved into a subtle smirk as he downed the drink. while she threw her head back to get the shot out the way, his eyes were locked onto jay’s. the air in the kitchen thickened, growing heavier with the unspoken tension that hung between the two men. jay’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling firmly around the neck of his bottle as he forced himself to relax. but his pride just wouldn’t let it go. he needed to act, to remind this guy—this nobody, who y/n truly belonged to.

his steps were calculated as he moved further into the kitchen, making it seem as if he hadn’t noticed them at all. his presence, though originally unacknowledged, was impossible to ignore. without sparing so much as a glance their way, jay reached for a bottle on the counter, his movements nonchalant and composed.

“hey, eric, pass me the bottle opener,” he said, his tone calm, detached, as if the moment held no significance. but the sound of his voice was enough to pierce through y/n’s bubble of drunken bliss. her laughter faltered, the warmth that had fueled her moments before were replaced by a quick, relentless, almost sinking ache. eric, with his focus now shifted to jay with a scowl, straightened up as he titled his head. they were now challenging each other in front of their pursuit.

“it’s right there, get it yourself,” eric made no effort to mask the irritation the boy’s presence brought him. y/n turned slowly, her heart lurching at the sight of jay. what the fuck was he even doing? did she even actually like eric? the thoughts ran through her mind, quick and unforgiving. as her gaze remained on jay, everything else faded into the background. eric’s presence, his charm, the tequila-fueled buzz— all evaporated. jay’s movements were precise, impersonal. though he stood just a few feet away, his eyes never met hers. it was as though she didn’t even exist to him, a realization that stung more than she’d anticipated.

with a swift motion, he grabbed the opener, popped the cap off the beer, and set it back on the counter. without another word or glance, he turned on his heel, a smug scoff leaving his lips as he disappeared into the crowd. his shoulders were tense, and his strides were agonizingly slow. y/n watched him leave, her heart sinking further with each step he took. her fingers curled against the countertop as she let out a sigh, gripping it tightly as she struggled to steady herself, her knuckles paling from the effort.

“you okay?” eric’s voice softened, his earlier confidence giving way to a tentative concern. his hand brushed her shoulder lightly, but the touch barely registered. all her thoughts, all her feelings, were consumed once again by jay, and the space he left behind. eric felt like a distant blur in comparison.

“yeah,” y/n replied quickly, though her voice was tight, almost robotic now. she forced a smile, but it was weak. she averted her eyes, unsure of where to look anymore. she was too ashamed to be present in the moment now. “it’s whatever. i don’t even know that guy anymore.” the words were meant to sound indifferent, maybe even lighthearted, but her tone betrayed her, emotions seeping through.

eric hesitated, his eyes studying her face. he could see the way her confidence had crumbled the moment jay walked up and felt a pang of guilt knowing he’d inadvertently caused it. but an unfamiliar feeling sparked within him as well. he wanted to make her forget about jay entirely, to erase whatever hold he still had on her. what had started off as an obvious attempt at a one-night stand, had suddenly turned into something more. eric wanted to be the one she thought about, the one she wanted, the one who could make her feel again.

y/n leaned against the counter, her glass clutched tightly in her hand, staring at the floor like it could offer her some kind of escape. it was quiet as the pair decided not to say anything. she didn’t mind it though. the weight of jay’s acknowledgment—or lack thereof— was still hanging over her like a storm cloud. and in her drunken state, she didn’t know how to process what she was feeling now. chaewon and yujin‘s comfort was rooms away, which she supposed was for the better. she didn’t want to bring their mood down with hers anyway. the dull thud of bass from the next room gave her a headache, and the warmth of the kitchen suddenly felt stifling.

she poured another shot and quickly downed it, sucking in a deep breath as the warmth shot throughout her body. her mind replayed the earlier scene on a loop—his voice, the dismissive tone, the way his eyes never bothered to look her way. a desperate part of her had hoped for more, craving at least some shred of emotion from him. instead, all she’d gotten was proof of how much she still cared, and how little he did. she bit the inside of her cheek to keep her tears at bay, her pride refusing to let them fall.

“hey.” y/n’s head snapped up, startled by the soft voice that cut through her thought process, reminding her she was still at the party. eric now stood a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets, a relaxed posture with a steady gaze. he tilted his head slightly, offering her a small smile in an attempt to ease her mind. “wanna just get out of here for a bit?”

for a moment she just stared at him, her brain debating on his offer. the idea of leaving the kitchen, and the weight of jay’s presence hanging over her, felt like relief. but going somewhere with ericㅡ a near-stranger? she wasn’t sure. her grip on her drink loosened slightly, her nails no longer digging into the condensation-soaked glass. “where would we even go?” her voice came out quieter than she intended.

“don’t know,” he shrugged, now leaning against the doorframe. “anywhere but here. upstairs, outside… we could raid his snacks, whatever helps.” his tone was casual, but there was something in the way he watched her that felt intentional. he sensed the remaining turmoil in her heart and wanted to pull her away from it.

y/n glanced at the doorway he motioned to, then back to her drink. the thought of staying here, rooted to this spot, after jay’s appearance felt unbearable. so, without answering, she set her cup on the counter with a soft clink and gave him a small nod. eric’s smile widened just slightly, enough to make her cheeks flush again. “come on,” he murmured, motioning for her to follow him.

he led her to a quiet balcony on the second floor of the house, away from the pulsing music and swarm of people. the cool night air hit her face, and she zipped her jacket as she wrapped her arms around herself. she was thankful for the moment of calm that wasted no time washing over her. eric handed her an unopened bottle of patron that he’d snagged on their way up, giving her a reassuring smile.

“for the record,” he said, leaning against the railing, his tone measured, almost casual, “whatever he did to you? screw him.” his eyes stayed fixed on the city lights below, the ambient hum of distant car horns and the occasional gust of wind filling the silence. he didn’t look at her, as if giving her the privacy to feel whatever she needed to without his gaze adding weight.

y/n let out a weak laugh, but it cracked halfway through, dissolving into a shaky exhale. leaning on the railing herself, her eyes wandered to the darkened yard below, its emptiness mirroring the void she felt in her heart. her voice wavered when she spoke. “it’s not that simple.”

“maybe not,” eric shrugged, the softness in his voice tugging at her like a thread, unraveling the tight knot she’d been holding together. “but he doesn’t get to ruin your night.” he turned slightly toward her, his expression thoughtful, though his gaze never pressed into hers too directly. her throat tightened, and before she could stop herself, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, blurring the faint glow of the city. she swallowed hard, shaking her head as if to ward them away. turning from him, she choked out a laugh, “god, i’m sorry. this is so stupid.”

“it’s not stupid,” he said with quiet conviction. he didn’t step closer, deciding it was best to keep respecting the fragile space between them, but there was something solid and grounding in his presence nonetheless. “you’re allowed to feel how you want to feel, y/n. no one gets to decide that for you.”

her fingers hastily brushed at her cheeks,trying to swipe away the evidence of her emotions as shame crept in. traces of her makeup found refuge on her jacket in the process. she was sure she looked as much of a mess physically as she felt mentally. his words lingered, and she appreciated him not demanding a response, just offering a truth she hadn’t yet been able to admit to herself. “i don’t even know why i’m crying. it’s just… all i wanted was to be able to forget about him for one night.” her words hung in the air as she tightly crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to hold herself together. saying it out loud made the hurt feel all the more real, the pressure pressing harder against her ribs.

“getting over someone takes time,” eric said, his voice steady and thoughtful, as though he’d carefully considered every word. his eyes flickered toward her briefly, searching for a reaction before continuing. “especially someone who meant a lot to you. i heard you guys were together for a couple of years; i don’t think anyone expects you to bounce back quickly. and just because you’re not there yet doesn’t mean you won’t get there.” his words settled over her, profound, like the softest form of reassurance she had been needing. y/n felt her shoulders relax and she finally exhaled, her breath fogging in the chilly night air. the weight of her emotions felt a little lighter now. eric held up the unopened bottle between them, his grin softening the mood further.

“how about this? one drink, and we’ll make a pact: no more thinking about jay tonight.”

her lips twitched into a small, reluctant smile as she reached for the bottle, the faintest trace of amusement breaking through the fading sadness. when in doubt, drink it out. “deal.” the bottle moved back and forth between them as the conversation flowed, each sip peeling away the mysterious layers between the two. eric had a way of drawing her out. his humor was witty, his stories were full of vivid details that made her forget the remaining ache in her chest, little by little. she felt like she could breathe again.

the two talked about everything and nothing: bad movies, dream vacations, even the weirdest things they’d done as kids. eric was so easy to talk to. in a way that felt natural, his teasing was playful but never too much, and his laughter warm and infectious. with every story exchanged, y/n found herself leaning further into the conversation.

at some point, the conversation slowed, the hum of the city below filling the quiet. y/n’s gaze drifted to eric, who sat just close enough that she could feel the warmth of his presence. the soft glow of the house lights framed his features—his sharp jawline, the slight curve of his lips, and the depth in his eyes that seemed to catch everything without needing to say much. she had noticed before how effortlessly handsome he was, but in the stillness, she could see it in all its glory because now he wasn’t even trying.

“what?” he asked, his voice breaking through her thoughts, low and teasing but not unkind. he kept his eyes on her, a gleam shimmering ever so slightly. she blinked, her cheeks heating as she fought hard not to look away.

“nothing.”

eric tilted his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “you were staring. i’m not complaining, just… curious.”

y/n’s heart stuttered, her defenses unraveling under his playful yet gentle tone. she dropped her gaze to the bottle between them, her fingers brushing against the cool glass. “i wasn’t staring,” she mumbled, though the blush deepening on her cheeks betrayed her. he leaned in slightly, not enough to overwhelm but just enough to close the gap, his voice quieter now.

“sure you weren’t.” their proximity was close enough to feel his breath warm on her nose. a closeness that felt almost forbidden. it felt good. there was something in the way he looked at her, prolonged and intent, as if he could see past what she was trying to hide. it made her stomach flip, her mind race. the space between them felt charged, the kind of silence that wasn’t empty but filled with things neither of them knew how to say.

she tried to focus on the city lights, the buzz of music from the party beneath themㅡ anything but him… but her gaze betrayed her again. when she looked back up, he was still watching her, his expression shifting into something unreadable.

“you know, you’re… different than i expected,” he said finally, his voice soft, almost hesitant. he was peeling back a layer of himself that he didn’t often share.

y/n’s brows furrowed slightly, her mind catching the weight of his words. curiously, she leaned closer despite the space being noses apart as a result. “different how?” she asked, her voice quieter now in fear of the moment shattering if she spoke any louder.

“in a good way,” he replied, the corners of his lips lifting in a slight smile that was both shy and sincere. the energy picked up, dissipating from its once lustful state into something new, softer and more vulnerable. “like… i don’t know. just better.”

the simplicity of his words struck her harder than she expected. there weren’t any grand gestures or overly thought-out declarations with them, yet somehow, it made them feel all the more genuine. she didn’t know how to respond, so she didn’t. instead, she just looked at him, her lips parting slightly as if the unfolding moment had stolen the air from her lungs. the outside noises of the world faded into nothing, narrowing to just the quiet breaths they shared on that balcony.

time seemed to slow as the remaining space between them shrank. his gaze dropped, flickering to her lips for the briefest moment before meeting her eyes again, a silent question lingering in the space between them. she felt renewed, her heart was racing as her mind scrambled to make sense of it. but there was no time to think, no time to overanalyze; her body moved before she could stop it.

her lips met his, softly at first, testing the waters. there was hesitation on both ends, a mutual uncertainty. then the kiss deepened, the weight of the night pouring into every movement. she leaned in closer, her hands finding their way to his shirt, gripping it tightly as if afraid he might pull away. his fingers ghosted over her jaw, anchoring her in the moment, grounding her as the rest of the world seemed to spin. it wasn’t perfect, it was messy and uncoordinated, a clash of emotions and impulse—but it felt real, raw in a way that made her melt into his touch. and for the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself be vulnerable. she let herself feel.

but just as quickly as it started, the kiss ended as reality crashed back in. y/n pulled back abruptly, her hands flying to her stomach as a sudden wave of nausea hit hard, quickly climbing its way up from her stomach. “oh no…” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper as she almost teleported to the other side of the balcony. there was no way. eric’s eyes widened, concern flashing across his face as he instinctively moved to reach out toward her. “you okay?” he asked, moving his hands back after seeing her lack of response to the gesture. she shook her head, the motion only making her feel worse.

“i think i’m gonna—” she realized she pushed herself to her feet too quickly, her delayed reaction to the sudden movement sent her balance teetering. eric was beside her in an instant, steadying her with a hand on her arm as she stumbled toward the railing.

“whoa, whoa—hold on,” he said, his voice calm but urgent. “deep breaths, okay? i got you.”

y/n clung to the cool metal railing, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to steady her breathing. the nausea roared louder, her stomach churning violently. she hated how vulnerable she felt, she hated that she couldn’t keep it together.

“i’m so sorry,” she whispered shakily, leaning forward in case the inevitable happened. her whole body was in panic mode, trying to ground itself but every attempt it made only escalated the situation. the only thing saving her from completely coming undone was her pride. she refused to embarrass herself in front of the handsome man that kept her company.

“don’t apologize,” eric said softly, his hand still resting on her arm. the touch was enough to distract her as her senses focused on the warmth it offered. “seriously, it’s fine. just focus on breathing. we’ll get through this.” her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but there was no judgment in his voice, no awkwardness, just comfort laced with concern. he was drunk too, anxiety building at how the situation could possibly unfold. y/n clung to the railing as the nausea finally overwhelmed her. the world around her blurred, and every sound muffled like she was underwater. her knees buckled slightly, and eric was quick to catch her as she vomited over the balcony, quietly thanking god that nobody was in the backyard.

“yeah,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “i think you’re done for the night.” she tried to mumble a response, but her words came out slurred and incoherent. her body felt heavy, the buzz of alcohol overpowering every sense as she vomited again. now she was sobbing curses keeping her eyes squeezed tight, as if it could block out the predicament she was in now. eric had to think fast, he couldn’t just leave her out here. but he also cared for her reputation, and taking someoneㅡ in her state, back with the majority was just begging to be social suicide.

“okay, hang tight,” eric said, carefully easing her down to sit on the floor of the balcony, leaning her against the railing for support. she was barely responsive, her eyelids fluttering as exhaustion took over. he wanted to bring her inside the room, but if she kept going at the rate that she was, laying down would be a safety hazard. he hated it, but the best option would be to leave her outside. he sucked in a breath, crouching in front of her, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face. “i’m gonna find your friends, okay? just stay right here.”

y/n’s head lolled slightly. he made his way back into the main, more populated areas of the house, scanning the crowd for any sign of the two girls she’d been with earlier. it took a few minutes and some questions to a few strangers, but eventually, eric found chaewon and yujin near the living room, both mid-conversation with a group of people. “hey, uh,” eric interrupted, his tone urgent enough to grab their attention immediately. “y/n’s on the balcony. she’s not feeling great. i think she needs you.”

chaewon’s eyes widened as her head snapped towards yujin, they had forgotten about y/n in their inebriated state. they actually learned of the kitchen situation shortly after it happened because jay had come by and interrupted their conversation with jake to vent about it. they only let her be after hearing of her moment with eric because a distraction was what they were originally hoping for. they didn’t take into account it could go left. “what the hell is she doing out there? is she okay?”

“she’s like… out of it,” eric said, his hands still in his pockets but his shoulders tense as they picked up the words he wasn’t dropping: a few too many drinks, half of which her body weight couldn’t hold. “she needs to go home.” yujin didn’t hesitate, grabbing chaewon’s arm as they followed eric back to the balcony. chaewon couldn’t help but cry the whole way up.

“fuck, we might just be the worst friends alive,” she sobbed, her feet scurrying to keep up with the other two as each sob slowed her down. yujin, sensing the need for a level headed person in the room, pinched chaewon’s cheeks once they reached the bedroom leading to the balcony. “we can unpack that later. she needs us now. so suck it up cause we have to act like we know what we’re doing.” her words leave no word for arguments, so chaewon just nods putting on her best poker face despite the regret that still panged at her heart.

when they opened the door to finally arrive on the scene, y/n was no longer slumped against the railing. she was laying on her side curled into a ball, eyes closed as she emphasized each breath she let out to calm her nerves. “oh my god, y/n,” chaewon muttered, kneeling beside her. the girl only croaked her name in response, a pout eliciting a downpour of tears. she felt a sense of relief washing over her at their presence. yujin crouched down as she and chaewon lifted her body up, y/n doing her best to push herself up with her arms. “what made this happen?”

“it’s kind of my fault. jay upset her while we were taking shots. it bummed her out, so we came up here to recharge… drank a whole bottle of patron,” eric trailed off as he recollected their actions leading up to it, the impulsivity being highlighted as a disaster waiting to happen. rubbing the back of his neck, he cleared his throat. “yeah, so it’s totally my fault.” chaewon and yujin wasted zero time verbally agreeing with him. he didn’t take it personally, thoughㅡ in hindsight, he could’ve approached the situation better. “sorry, i wasn’t really thinking. i just wanted to make her feel better.”

“well, thank you,” yujin said, her voice sincere as she looked at him. chaewon and yujin carefully helped y/n to her feet, draping her arms over their shoulders. eric lingered for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked at her one last time. she looked an absolute mess. her mascara ran in uneven streaks tracing her cheeks, while smudges of foundation, blush,and faded lipstick clung desperately to her skin. he felt horrible for how bad her night turned out. “she’s gonna be okay, right?” he asked, his voice a tinge quieter now.

“yeah,” chaewon said, tight-lipped with a small nod. “we got it from here, thanks for looking out for her.” eric nodded, stepping back as they carried y/n away. he stood there for a moment, watching until they disappeared into the house. with a deep breath, he turned back toward the balcony railing, running a hand through his hair as he tried to shake off the lingering worry. what a shitty first impression to leave. he almost wished that they had saved some alcohol, he needed another shot.

in the backseat of the taxi, y/n slumped against chaewon, her head heavy with a mouth that insisted on being anything but quiet. “i wanted to stay with him,” she mumbled, her words slurring together. her voice hiccuped slightly, carrying the unmistakable edge of drunken frustration. she replayed fragmented memories of their time together from the kitchen to the balcony. “why’d you make me leave? he was—he was so damn nice to me. oh my god, he was so sweet y’all. and he was so cute.”

chaewon yawned with a sigh, exhausted and clearly drunk, but trying her best to be a comforting friend, rubbing y/n’s arm. “yeah, yeah, i’m sure he was cool. but we had to leave, y/n. you could barely stand.”

“you were blackout drunk,” yujin chimed in from the passenger seat, twisting around to face them, her own cheeks flushed from the night’s drinks. “like, not just tipsy. you were gone, babe. eric literally told us to get you home.”

but y/n wasn’t having it. she sat up abruptly, her movements wobbly as she gestured with exaggerated fervor. “i liked him, though! he was—such a sweetheart. like, he said all this nice stuff. and we—” she paused, her drunken mind struggling to piece things together. rubbing her thighs together, her mind went straight to the kiss they shared. knowing chaewon and yujin, they wouldn’t let her hear the end of it if she dropped that kind of info. so, she opted to stop herself, quickly changing the subject. a little secret never hurt anybody.

“he was—he was talking to me, and then you guys just pulled me away.” images of how she interpreted the situation plagued her mind, as if they were plotting against her to keep her from her prince charming. “it wasn’t fair… what if i never see him again?” she slumped back dramatically, her head falling against the window with a loud thud but she wasn’t even phased by the pain. “this is so unfair.”

chaewon’s expression softened, her teasing edge melting away as she gave y/n’s arm a gentle squeeze. her voice was quieter now, reassuring, like she was trying to ground her moody friend. “you know you can keep talking to him, right? it’s not like you’ll never see him again.”

“how?” y/n exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically. her voice carried the same exasperation as a frustrated child, her bottom lip already jutting out in a pout. it seemed impossible, like meeting him was a once in a lifetime chance she’d fumbled.

“i don’t know, romeo,” yujin quipped, glancing back at her. “you got his number, didn’t you?” there was a glint of amusement in her tone, and it took everything not to laugh at y/n’s growing dramatics.

y/n blinked, suddenly caught off guard. “damn it,” she groaned, flopping back against the seat as the realization hit her. “i didn’t even think about that!” her voice rose in pitch as her frustration bubbled over. with another groan, she slumped forward again. “how am i supposed to find him now?”

yujin shook her head, her own buzz making her grin widen as she scrolled through her phone. “hold on,” she mumbled, squinting at the screen as she scrolled past posts and messages. “i think we follow him on instagram. chaewon and me, at least.”

“you’re kidding,” y/n said, her tone filled with disbelief as her wide eyes snapped to yujin. she was almost jealous, she wanted him to follow her too. well, maybe more than a follow. she had a list of things she now wanted from the boy, few of them being internet bound.

“mmm, nope. see? it’s right here,” yujin turned her phone toward y/n, showing her eric’s page. it wasn’t much from what she could see. just a regular layout, posting at normal locations yet somehow making the mundane parts of life look vibrant. so dreamy.“i’ll send you his profile.”

for a moment, the drunken haze clouding y/n’s mind seemed to part, and a flicker of hope broke through her frustration. her face softened, and she looked at her friends with a mixture of gratitude and awe. “you’d really give it to me?” her voice was quieter now, almost shy, but the happiness behind her words was hard to miss.

“of course,” yujin said with a shrug, her fingers already flying across the screen to send his profile link. her tone was casual as her eyes flicked to y/n. “but, like, maybe don’t embarrass yourself, okay? just be chill.” she raised an eyebrow, her gaze flickering between concern and amusement. “if you’re even capable of that right now.”

chaewon snorted beside her, the sound sharp and short, like she’d tried to suppress it but failed miserably. the corners of her lips twitched upward as she pressed her knuckles against her mouth, shaking her head at the scene unfolding before her.

“hey,” y/n shot back, the sound more of a whine than a true protest. her pout returned in full force as she crossed her arms over her chest like a petulant child. “i am capable of being chill.” but the way her words were slurred slightly at the edges and so over-exaggerated, made her claim hilariously unconvincing. her friends didn’t need to say anything, her actions spoke loud enough.

“sure you are,” chaewon said, laughter bubbling up from deep in her chest as she leaned back into the seat, shaking her head. the way she said it seemed to playfully poke even more holes in y/n’s already shaking defense. her amusement was contagious, setting off yujin, who burst into laughter that echoed through the car. “there, it’s sent,” yujin said between giggles, her cheeks beginning to ache from smiling as the notification lit up the screen.

she waved it at y/n who then grabbed her phone and stared down at the notification, her lips twitching as her pout faltered. even though she tried to hold on to her dramatic indignation, the warmth of her friends’ laughter was pulling her out of her sulk. she wasted no time exploring his public profile, staring down at it like it held all the answer to life’s mysteries. a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

as the taxi rolled to a stop in front of y/n’s apartment, her eyes stayed glued to one of eric’s posts. the glow of the screen illuminated her face as she scrolled through his pictures, lingering on one in particular—a candid shot of him laughing, his head tilted back and his smile wide. “he’s cute, right?” she slurred, her voice tinged with both awe and disbelief as she held the phone up for chaewon and yujin to see. “yeah, real cute,” yujin replied without even looking, her tone dismissive as she hooked her arm under y/n’s to help her out of the taxi. chaewon grabbed y/n’s other arm, the two of them exchanging knowing glances over her head.

“now come on,” yujin added, her voice straining as y/n leaned heavily on her. “let’s get you inside before you pass out in the hallway.”

“i’m not gonna pass out,” y/n protested, though her sluggish movements and the way she was tripping over her own feet, told an entirely different story. her attention drifted back to her phone. “he’s so cute,” she declared dreamily, clicking on another one of eric’s posts. she zoomed in on his face scrutinizing every detail like she was solving a puzzle.

her knees buckled slightly as she let out a squeal that blended into a wistful sigh, her head tipping back dramatically. the sudden motion nearly sent all three of them tumbling to the ground. “y/n, focus!” chaewon scolded, groaning as she tightened her grip to keep her upright. together, they stumbled through the front door, chaewon’s voice laced with equal parts exasperation and amusement.

“i am focused!” y/n shot back, though the way she swayed suggested otherwise. with a flourish, she exited out of the post and opened eric’s dms, her fingers flying across the screen. “i’m texting him right now,” she announced proudly, her voice brimming with determination.

“just don’t say anything stupid,” yujin laughed, typing in the apartment code and holding the door open for them. her tone held a faint edge of concern as she glanced over at y/n, whose fingers kept typing away. y/n, entirely oblivious to her surroundings, was deep in concentration, her thumbs working faster than her intoxicated brain could keep up. she hit send on one message, then another, a giddy smile spreading across her face as the chat filled with her messages. “he hasn’t seen them yet,” she mumbled, almost like a child waiting for a toy to arrive.

chaewon and yujin exchanged a look, their laughter bubbling up again as they guided her toward her room to toss her on the bed, watching as she remained entirely consumed by her mission. “you’re a mess,” chaewon teased, shaking her head, though there was no mistaking the fondness in her voice. after ridding themselves of their shoes, the three girls were quick to undo the chaos of the night. yujin wiped away her smudged eyeliner with one of y/n’s makeup wipes, while chaewon rummaged through a pile of clothes, discarding her dress before tossing a baggy hoodie on.

y/n, still buzzing from both the alcohol and her excitement, sat cross-legged on the bed, clutching her phone. amidst the silent ruffling of materials as the girls were focused on their respective activities, her phone buzzed. the room was momentarily filled with a high-pitched squeal as she threw her head back dramatically. “he replied!”

“oh my god, already?” yujin asked, peering over y/n’s shoulder.

“what’d he say?” chaewon added, leaning in, her curiosity piqued.

but y/n didn’t answer, her face going slack as she hunched over her phone, completely absorbed in whatever eric had sent. the other two exchanged glances before shrugging, quietly finishing up their nighttime routines while y/n sat frozen, eyes reading each thing he sent. suddenly, she let out a gasp, breaking her silence once again. “he gave me his number!” she screamed, clutching her phone to her chest like it was a prized possession.

chaewon raised an eyebrow. “well, are you gonna call him?”

y/n shot her a look that screamed duh, her fingers making quick to save his number. without hesitating, she dialed it, ignoring the way her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest. “oh my god, you’re calling now?” yujin asked, half-laughing as she tossed herself onto the bed.

“shh!” y/n hissed, holding a finger up to quiet them. she brought the phone to her ear, biting her lip as the dial tone hummed in her ear. the sound seemed to stretch on forever, each ring louder than the last.

“what if he doesn’t pick up?” chaewon whispered, leaning closer to yujin with wide eyes.

yujin grinned. “then she’ll probably—”

“hello?”

his voice cut through the line, smooth and casual, yet undeniably familiar. y/n froze, her lips parting as the realization hit her. “uh—” she started, but her voice caught in her throat, her mind racing to find the right words. chaewon and yujin exchanged a glance, their amused smiles fading as they watched y/n’s expression shift into something softer, more vulnerable.

“hello?” he said again, a touch of curiosity creeping into his tone.

y/n exhaled slowly, closing her eyes as if bracing herself. “hey, eric,” she finally said, her voice quieter than she intended. muting, she turned to the girls. “i’ll be back.” and with that, she slipped out of the room, leaving her friends behind as the door clicked softly shut.

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roosterforme · 10 months ago

Text

In the Line of Duty | Rooster x Reader

Summary: During preparations for a dangerous mission, Bradley finds comfort in writing his thoughts down for his unborn child to eventually read. There's always a chance that he won't make it back, and his final plans involve safeguarding the most important item he brought on his deployment with him.

Warnings: Angst, deployment, pregnancy topics

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley was in the same tiny room with the same seven people for the nineteenth day in a row. He was sweating, too aware of his surroundings. He could hear Reuben breathing next to him. He could hear Admiral Turner's wristwatch counting off every second. He could hear the plans being laid out, but he could barely focus on them.

"The political climate is rapidly changing," the admiral said. "This bombing run is essential, however it will undoubtedly lead to a hostile environment for our allies. Getting the timing just right is essential to a successful mission."

He'd been telling the aviators the same things for days, and while Bradley knew somebody's best interest was at heart, he wasn't really sure it was his. Or Reuben's. Or anybody's in this fucking claustrophobic room. But what choice did he have but to sit here in his flight suit, reeking of jet fuel until he was released?

"Also," Admiral Turner said, his voice laced with exhaustion, "we'll be keeping a close watch on the weather. If you fly this mission, it's going to be a rough takeoff and an even rougher landing. And that's not even mentioning the elements you'll encounter in the air."

Bradley could feel it. The aircraft carrier was a massive vessel, nothing like a cruise ship or anything smaller. It was built to withstand typhoons and hurricanes, but he could still feel it. The movement was getting worse by the hour now. There were deckhands and petty officers walking around with seasickness bags. People were running from the mess hall left and right. The only thing that could be said of this small group of aviators in this tiny ass room was that professional fighter pilots had all traces of motion sickness eliminated from their bodies during flight training, never to be heard from again. He wasn't uncomfortable, but he could still feel it.

"And with that final precaution, I've made my selection for the three pilots who will fly when I say it's time to go." Bradley knew it in his bones even before he heard the admiral say, "Vandal. Patches. Rooster. Everyone else will remain on standby. You're all dismissed."

As he stood, Reuben stuck his fist out. "Congrats, man," he said, and Bradley reached out as well to bump fists. Being chosen was an accomplishment; Bradley always wanted to be chosen. He always wanted to perform to the best of his ability. But his thoughts were so heavy now, filled with new hopes and fears.

"Thanks, Payback," he replied, following his friend from the room and into the noisy reprieve of the cool hallway. There were people rushing around as the two of them made their way to the mess hall. "But if I have to sit in that room for another day, I'm going to lose my mind."

Reuben laughed as he started to load a tray with food. "I love how the weather is too bad for us to do any training runs, but in the same sentence, we're told to be ready to fly a mission in this. It's like they're steering us right into the worst of the storm."

They were. Bradley could tell they were. There was something strategic about the open water location, but they were absolutely heading into the worst of it. He just hoped it would clear up before he was called out on deck to fly.

"It's a good thing I haven't barfed in a Super Hornet since that very first time," he said, also piling food that he knew would taste like cardboard onto a plate.

"This shit sucks," Reuben muttered, biting into a roll once they reached an empty table. "We got any more of your wife's cookies back in the bunk?"

Bradley smiled as he looked at the questionable meal in front of him. "A few." He bit into the steak and grimaced. Everything you cooked at home was better than this. He'd trade his whole plate of food right now for half of a grilled cheese sandwich made by your hands. Just thinking about it had his stomach growling louder. "You already ate most of them."

Reuben popped another roll into his mouth and chewed it up before saying, "Rooster, you've got a hot lieutenant commander who can cook for a wife. And a baby on the way. Come on, man. The least you can do is spare some more of those cookies."

Once he let his thoughts drift, Bradley knew it would take hours to get focused on his job again, but he couldn't help it. When he left home, you looked the same as you always did. You'd been complaining about your weight gain and bloating for weeks, but you looked just perfect to him. He wanted to get back home to see if you had a bump yet. He wanted to get home and talk to the Nugget. But he'd already been gone for three weeks, and he hadn't been given a single chance to call or FaceTime with you.

He hated having no idea how your most recent doctor's appointment went. There were probably new ultrasound photos sitting right on the kitchen counter, but it could be weeks before he got to see how much the Nugget grew since last time. He should be a home, catering to your every whim and building the massive jungle gym for the backyard.

"Are you excited?" Reuben asked, breaking through his thoughts. "You've got what, like five more months to go before you're a dad?"

"One hundred and eighty-six days until the due date," Bradley replied with a grin. "And yeah, I'm pretty fucking excited. It's all I can think about." He tried to finish all of the food, but he set his plate aside and said, "Let's go eat some of those cookies."

An hour later, Bradley was sitting in his bunk, nibbling on the rationed baked goods while Reuben snored across the room. He took this opportunity to get out the pink and blue striped notebook which he affectionately referred to as the Nugget notebook. He'd filled half of it with his musings, and he figured it would be full by your due date. It was silly, just his random thoughts and some sporadic story telling, but he liked the idea of his kid having all of this to look at later. He uncapped his pen, jotted down the date, and started writing what was on his mind.

You'll never guess where I am right now. No really. It would be impossible, because even I don't really know where I am! But it's somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, I know that for sure. And while I'm really, really far away from you and your mom right now, the two of you are all I can think about....

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

The weather was so bad a few days later that the gym was closed. Bradley and Reuben stood in front of the locked door in their gym clothes looking at each other.

"This is fucking wild," Bradley muttered, deprived of the only activity he could think of to keep himself busy. The hallways were pretty empty at this time of night, but everything still felt more deserted than usual. The dining menus had been pared down, presumably because half of the kitchen staff was too seasick to make everything. He was starting to feel anxious. "Let's go workout in the bunk and then finish the cookies."

"Sounds good," Reuben replied. They took turns churning out sets of fifty push ups while the other ate a cookie. They did this until they were both sweating and all of the cookies were officially gone.

"Now what the fuck are we supposed to do?" Bradley asked, but any response was cut off by a knocking on the door. He jumped up, glanced at Reuben, and then opened the door for a petty officer.

"Bradshaw?"

"Yeah?"

"You requested a FaceTime call? Report to the lounge in thirty minutes."

"Thanks," he said, heart beating wildly as he closed the door. He rushed around the room, grinning and grabbing everything he'd need to take a quick shower.

Reuben just laughed and said, "Please thank her again for the cookies."

"Will do," Bradley replied, making a mad dash for the showers. If he did the math correctly, he figured it was between four and five o'clock in the morning back home in San Diego. He hated calling you in the middle of the night, especially when you were pregnant and exhausted, but he knew you'd forgive him. And he desperately needed to see your face and hear your voice.

His hair was still damp when he jogged along the quiet corridors toward the lounge and took a seat in front of one of the computers. He quickly entered his credentials followed by your phone number, and then he waited and waited. "Shit," he muttered, gripping the edge of the table, afraid the call was going to ring through and then cut off. But then he heard you screech his name and saw you as you reached for your glasses while the light from the lamp on your nightstand illuminated your face.

"Bradley!" you practically screamed again, your voice scratchy from sleep. "Roo! Are you okay?"

"Hey, Baby Girl," he said, feeling calmer than he had in weeks as you juggled your phone around and tried to sit up fully in bed. "I'm fine. Sorry it's so late."

"No, no, no, this is perfect!" you insisted, rubbing your eye behind your glasses as you tried to stifle a yawn. "This is great."

Bradley laughed and said, "I miss you so fucking much. Wish I was in bed right there with you."

"Me too," you insisted, and he could see the sincerity on your face. "It got chilly here tonight, and Tramp isn't as snuggly as you are."

He wanted to kiss you. He wished he could somehow dive through the screen and end up next to you where you'd pull him right into your arms. His voice was just a whisper as he said, "Tell me about the Nugget."

Your smile was soft, and you bit your lip. "Dr. Morris said the Nugget looked great when I was there two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago," he groaned, rubbing his rough hands along his face. "Sweetheart... I already missed so much." When he looked at the screen again, you were out of bed and on the move. "Where are you going?"

You flipped on the hallway light and said, "To get the ultrasounds to show you. I left them on the kitchen counter."

The fact that he knew that's where they would be made him smile. When you propped your phone up next to the stove and turned on the light, he felt tears stinging his eyes. You held up one of the photos so he could see the baby, and he had to blink past his blurry vision. "There's my Nugget," he said, voice thick with emotion as you held up a second image. "Fucking cutest baby I've ever seen."

Your laughter sounded beautiful as you showed him a third one. "I liked this one the best. I think it looks like the baby is waving hello."

"Shit," he gasped. "You're right. I can't wait to wallpaper our bedroom with copies of these."

You pulled the baby picture away, and he could see your face again as you said, "You're probably not even joking."

"I'm definitely not even joking."

You leaned on the counter and got a little closer to your phone as you said, "Another week or so, and I can go in for an anatomy scan."

Now Bradley felt like crying for a totally different reason. "You get to find out if the Nugget is a boy or a girl."

"Yeah," you said with a nod. "But I don't really want to do that without you there too."

Bradley looked at your beautiful face and the perfect curve of your cheek. He imagined a little baby in your arms with the same flawless features. "I wish I could get home in time to hold your hand and find out in person. But you know I don't care one way or the other. The only nice thing is that we can start narrowing down baby names soon. I actually wrote down a few that I kind of like in the Nugget notebook earlier."

Your smile was brilliant as you told him, "I can't wait to read all of your notebook entries. And if you're not home for my next appointment, I'll be practically vibrating with anticipation until I get to tell you if it's a boy Nugget or a girl Nugget."

Bradley opened his mouth to say he couldn't wait to come home and spend a full day curled up with both of you. He was about to ask you to pull his UVA shirt up and let him see what your belly looked like now. But the lounge door swung open so hard, it sounded like it was going to fall off the hinges.

"Bradshaw!" barked Admiral Turner. "It's time. Get into your flight suit."

"Yes, Sir," he said before glancing back down to see your face as you started to cry.

"You have to go," you sobbed.

"I do," he said quickly. "Right now. Listen, I love you. More than anything. You and the baby both, okay? I love you."

"I love you, too," you sobbed as your lips trembled. "So much."

"I'll be home soon," he promised, even though he knew he couldn't guarantee anything of the sort. "I love you."

After he ended the call, he ran back to the bunk where Reuben was already in his flight suit and pulling on his boots. It was late enough now that it had to be dark outside, so he was either about to fly another mission without the use of one of his senses, or they were sending him out at first light. Either way, he knew what he had to do, so he pulled his own flight suit on with shaky hands.

The call with you had calmed his nerves right up until the point when he had to abruptly end it. What he wouldn't give to be back home within a week. He'd drive you to the appointment in his Bronco and hold your hand the whole time. Dr. Morris would let you know if he was going to be the dad to a daughter or a son. His little Nugget.

"You ready?" Reuben asked as Bradley finished lacing up his boots.

He looked up at his friend as he stood. "Actually, no," he said, pulling his duffle out from under his bed. He started rooting through it as he said, "I need you to potentially do me a favor."

"Sure," Reuben replied, "but we gotta get to the meeting room now, Rooster."

"I know," he mumbled in response as his hands connected with the most important thing he had with him. He held up the pink and blue notebook, his voice calm in spite of his nerves as he said, "Just real quick, you see this? I need you to take this back to my wife if anything happens to me."

His friend was silent for a beat before he said, "Alright. I can do that."

Bradley's fingers tightened around the spiral binding holding together all of his thoughts about fatherhood and how much he loved his unborn child. And now his voice shook a bit as he said, "This is very important to me."

Reuben nodded and said, "Understood. I promise I'll take care of it if the need arises."

"Thank you." Bradley kissed the striped cover and propped the notebook up against his pillow, giving it one last look before he followed Reuben from the bunk.

At first light, Bradley made his way out onto the carrier deck through the rain and whistling wind. The mission was on. The weather was miserable, but the plethora of Naval officers deemed this the best opportunity they were going to get to help their allies.

It was time. Time for Bradley to trust himself. And if he failed, he trusted Reuben to take the notebook back to San Diego and get it into the hands of his wife. Then you'd take care of the notebook for the Nugget. Because if there was one person who was never going to let him down, it was you.

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

I can't deal with how much I've been hurting my own feelings with these two. Should we start a new series? Would that be okay? A tragic, new series? Thank you for reading about and loving them! Please stay tuned. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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dr5amatic · 6 months ago

Text

IN THE ASHES ,

a sentence starter prompts list comprised of quotes from the novel an ember in the ashes by sabaa tahir. please be advised that this list may involve topics including, but not limited to, murder, death, and violence. change verbiage as needed.

why do keep disappearing when i need you?

i wasn't spying.

what you saw is dangerous. you can't tell anyone about it. not ever.

keep your secrets close, love.

i'm not working for them.

don't be afraid [name], i won't let anything happen to you.

what are you doing down here?

much as i hate to admit it, you're not usually wrong.

the field of battle is my temple.

the dance of death is my prayer.

the killing blow is my release.

aren't you a pretty one.

who trained you?

keep it safe for me just until i come back.

unless you're stupider than you look, even you can see how this appears.

you worked hard. you did everything right.

go, [name]. go get some air. i'll handle this.

the ghosts of our misdeeds seek vengeance, but the cost will be high.

you are an ember in the ashes, [name]. you will spark and burn, ravage and destroy. you cannot change it. you cannot stop it.

we don't abandon our own!

who do you want me to spy on?

shadows will bloom in your heart and you will become everything you hate.

so my choices are either to stay and be evil or run and be evil. wonderful.

they always underestimate me.

this isn't a mission for the fainthearted.

go away. you're not real.

you're distracted when you can ill afford to be.

if you want to win this, you need to wake up.

i've already wasted too much time cleaning up your messes.

lay low. don't risk spying until you're certain you won't get caught.

fail me again, and we're done.

these are my friends, my family. people i know. i wouldn't hurt them.

how do i make it stop? i have to make it stop.

until you conquer your fear, the dead will remain with you.

i won't kill you. i swear it. by blood and bone, i swear it.

you're going to be fine. i'm going to fix you right up.

fight, [name]. you have to fight. you have to win.

death before tyranny.

if what you say is true, then the balance is upset, and we must restore it.

you look terrible. come into the shade.

you really should run. you’re just going to die.

wait, you idiot! it might be a trap!

i won’t let you fall, i promise.

i want you to know that i think what you’re doing is brave. really brave.

it’s not a stupid idea, just dangerous. i don’t want you getting hurt.

you’re trying to sneak out.

i wouldn’t have traded this for anything.

i live with my sins everyday. i live with the guilt.

i’ve never asked you for anything. i’m asking you now.

you think i can’t defend myself? you think i need bodyguards?

i’ve been distracted worrying about you.

i’ll kill him for this.

don’t talk. just keep quiet and… let me think.

you’re in love with me! but i'm not in love with you, and you hate me for it. you’ve let that ruin our friendship.

i could never be in love with you.

you have no idea what I’ve given up for you, the deal i made.

who did this?

look at you–look what they’ve done to you.

you don’t have to be brave.

do you have what i want?

i have something, but i need more time.

if you have nothing, then this mission is a failure.

don’t have time for that. I’ve got other things on my mind.

if i wanted to hurt you, i’d already have done it.

as long as there is life, there is hope.

either way, you’d have blamed yourself.

either way, people you cared about would have suffered.

i should have stayed, even if it meant dying.

they won’t let you have compassion or kindness. they won’t let you have a soul.

my soul’s gone. I killed it dead on that battlefield.

there are two kinds of guilt. the kind that’s a burden and the kind that gives you purpose.

you have a soul. it’s damaged, but it’s there. don’t let them take it from you.

you don’t need to be so cat-footed. i’m not armed.

you’re surprised? you’re naïve, is what you are. you’re a fool.

you’re sick. don’t you have any regret? any remorse?

i’ll celebrate them. i’ll mourn them. but i won’t regret what i did. i did it for the empire. i did it for my people.

don’t make vows when you can’t know their cost.

i crossed a line, and i won’t cross it again.

do you know what i do to spies?

be strong. if you don’t win this, everything is lost.

i will be your blood shrike, your second-in-command, the sword that executes at your will, until death. i swear it.

in the night, your loneliness crushes you, as if the sky itself has swooped down to smother you in its cold arms.

there is nothing of me that is worth anything.

tell me, or i slit your throat here and now.

you’ll pay for this. i swear it to the skies, to the stars. you’ll pay.

just because he’s a good leader doesn’t mean he’s a good person. he lied to you.

for the first time since i can remember, i don’t feel alone. because of you.

i can’t–i can’t stop thinking about you. i’ve tried not to. i tried to push you out.

i’ll take care of everything. i promise.

the moment i knew you existed, i hated you.

if i feel regret, it’s that i wasn’t willing to die sooner.

i’d rather die than live with no mercy, no honor, no soul.

fear is only your enemy if you allow it to be.

too much fear an you’re paralyzed. too little fear and you’re arrogant.

i’ll watch your back if you watch mine. we can make it if we stick together.

#rp sentence starters #rp prompts #rp memes #inbox memes #roleplay memes #inbox prompt #roleplay prompts

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huskersbooze · 11 months ago

Text

Sick

Alastor x Reader

Summary : You get sick and Alastor keeps you company <3

Warnings : Swearing(lots of it)

Pairings : Alastor x F!Reader (M!Reader here)

Additional Tags : ALASTOR POV CUZ YES. Sick reader, implied relationship, h/c, fluff, comfort

Word count : 1.01k

“Hey, you alright, kid?” Husk tilts his head to the side, wiping down the last glass of the day.

You don’t respond. Instead, you’re staring off into the distance, dozing off in your own world.

“Kid?”

“Huh? What?” You finally snap out of your thoughts.

“Geez, ya’ look like hell.” Husk acknowledges. “Are you sick?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I don’t think so?”

“Go rest. I’ll work alone today.”

“What? No! I’m fine I swear-” Before you’re able to finish your sentence, Husk flips you off.

“Bullshit. Go find your radio boyfriend.”

“Don’t bullshit me-”

You try arguing but Husk only smirks when he catches a glimpse of Alastor who’s appeared right behind you.

“Well, I just did.” He says. “Now stop being so stubborn.”

“I’m not being stubborn I-”

You feel a hand being put to your forehead and try to fight back, only to realise it was Alastor.

“High fever.” He lets go. “You’re being stubborn.”

“Oh, fuck you, Al.”

“We’ll fuck when you’re better, darling.”

You blush. Alastor grins. Husk tries to hold in a laugh but ultimately fails.

“You’re sick and you need rest, my dear. Come along.”

“I’m fine-”

Alastor can only sigh, picking you up as you yelp.

“This is completely, and utterly, your fault single-handedly.” He smiled as you pouted. “You're very much welcome, darling.”

“Whatever.”

-----

You managed to escape Alastor as he leaves to mess with Vox. (Ep2 lmao)

Upon returning to the bar, Husk was not pleased to see your ass out of bed, emphasising on how important sleep was to someone sick.

You couldn’t care less.

Though, after wiping down a few more bottles with him, your eyes doze off and your eyelids feel droopy.

“Kid?”

The world spins and fades away.

“Fuck! Kid, ya’ alright?! Alastor!”

-----

[Alastor’s pov]

I heard a little groan as my eyes widened.

"Darling." I whispered, hoping not to startle her.

"Al..?" She breathed out.

"Good morning." I joked, though so grateful she was now awake.

"Wha.. What time is it?" She asked, struggling to get up.

"Be careful." I ushered, helping her sit. "I'm not so sure myself. It's very late at night."

"Where am I?" She asked, finally waking up as she stopped slurring through her words.

"My room. ‘I’m not sick’ my arse." I replied.

"Oh. Well, I guess you and Husk were right. I just thought I was a little sick." She murmured.

"You are sick." I replied. "Just worse than you expected."

"Real humorous, Al." She gave a small, yet weak, giggle.

Silence filled the air between us, and we didn't say anything else after that. That was, until she gave a small sneeze. I could tell she tried to suppress it, but seeing it was late at night and so quiet, it was hard not to notice.

"Are you cold?" I asked. I could barely make out the silhouette of her nodding lightly. Without hesitating, I took off my coat and handed it over to her. "Better?"

"A lot. Thanks, Al." She replied. After another few seconds of silence, she spoke up once more. "Why aren’t you asleep?"

"You do remember your dear partner does not need, nor does he enjoy, sleep?"

"Excuse, excuses." She joked, earning a chuckle from me.

"I can't really sleep now." She suddenly says out of nowhere. One thing I really like about this girl, she says the most random things in the most random situations. "Could we do something else?"

"Are you trying to get me killed?" I laughed. "You need to rest."

"I'm aware. That's the initial plan, anyways." She joked. At least, I hoped she was joking.

"You sneaky little deer."

"Yes. That's me. Hello." She replied, sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed as she proceeded to look at me in the dark room. “Besides, it’s not like anyone here at the Hotel is actually powerful enough to kill you.”

"Very well, then. What do you have in mind?"

“Some jazz and cuddles would be nice.”

-----

She chokes on another cough.

"Are you sure you're alright? You should really rest in such vulnerable state."

"I'm," Another cough. "Fine. I swear."

"If you insist."

After a while, I turned to face her, worried she wasn't enjoying herself anymore, only to find her sound asleep, clinging lightly to my shirt. See? I told you were sleepy. You just refused to listen to me. I stopped and watched the girl, moving little by little, afraid of waking her up.

She looked so peaceful. Though, it wouldn't be the first time I find her sleeping in my presence. I tugged a small strand of hair behind her ear as she shifted a little. I immediately paused. Shit, had I woken her? Though she soon returned to her slumber and she curled up into a ball in front of me.

I suppose this would suffice.

"Goodnight, darling." I whispered softly, laying next to her in the bed. "See you in the morning."

-----

[2nd person]

You awoke early in the morning, feeling well rested. Your bed was awfully more comfortable than you had remembered. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, finally opening them for the first time, only to find that you weren't in your own room. It took you a while to let things simmer in.

That's when you heard snoring next to you.

You turned to find the Radio Demon cuddled into a ball next to you in bed sleeping oh so soundly. The poor man probably hadn't had sleep in days. Before you could process what was happening, you checked the time and realized you had to be back at the bar for work in 5 minutes. Not wanting to wake Alastor up, you left him a quick note to thank him and left.

----

The whole day passed and you never caught sight of Alastor. After closing the bar, you headed to Alastor’s room,hoping to find him there.

You stop at his door and break out a tiny laugh.

On the door, a rushed sign saying — Sick. Keep out.

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remotewatch · 6 months ago

Text

nothing but a sentence 🩸

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 1.8k wc

summary: period sex with jack for anon ‼️ hope you enjoy lovely 🤍

cw: period sex, period head, certified boyfriend material jack, domestic bliss, whereee did all this fluff come from, sacrilege if you squint, messy eating, unprotected sex (VOTE IF YOU WANNA RECREATE ETC ETC), shoutout to my darling editor Sabrina @mystardustmelodyyy for saving this from limbo 🙏

minors dni get off my lawn

At this point in the relationship, Jack manages your period more than you do. You tend to forget that it requires actually going out and purchasing supplies unless he calls you from the pharmacy to complain.

“Why would they stop carrying ultras? That’s so fucked up! And the boxes are getting smaller, it’s sick what they’re doing to you guys!” It’s too easy to picture him waltzing around with three cases of san pellegrino under one arm and an overflowing snack basket in the other, phone pressed between his ear and shoulder while he yaps about pink taxes.

“Do you want canned or fresh lychee? Never mind, I’ll get both.” he decides before you can respond. “Did you want anything else?”

“I want to sleep,” you mumble. You were currently being throttled on two fronts by nauseating cramps and a vicious migraine, leaving no energy left to manage his shopping list. It was hard enough just to reach and grab the ibuprofen without alerting your uterus that you had moved, yet he’s still talking as you doze off:

“We’ve got edibles and melatonin in the cabinet, but I’ll get some mag glycinate, and are you SURE you don’t need…”

“Dealer’s choice, I trust your judgement,” you murmur. “When will you be home?”

“Alright, fair enough. I’ll be back around 6.”

“See you then. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He finds you wrapped in two heating pads, face pressed into the couch, full water glass in the same spot he left it on the coffee table.

“I feel like I just died,” you groan, rubbing your eyes and tentatively stretching your legs.

“Come on, you gotta hydrate,” Jack rustles through the grocery bags looking for a loose water bottle with a sport cap before pressing it against your mouth. He frowns and doesn’t take it out when you try to move away.

“At least half a glass, come on. I’m following orders here.” He’s very gentle not to flood your mouth and make you cough, but you can see his eyes flicker down to watch your lips wrap around the cap (he’s only human, after all).

“Thank you,” you croak when he finally sets it down, voice slightly less raspy than before.

“Do you want a tea? I’m making you a tea.”

He’s off rustling through the kitchen for the ginger lemon amid the boxes of just ginger or just lemon, but despite his best efforts, the noise is killing you. Every shut drawer sounds like a door slamming with this headache, and Jack sounds like he’s still speaking into your ear even though he’s mainly talking to himself.

“And I’ll get started on dinner-what would you like? I’ll figure something out, don’t worry. Oh, also! I got those vaseline body balm rollers you like.”

Your eyes shoot wide open and light up as he trots over to hand you your treat.

“Oh my god, and you found the cocoa butter kind! You’re the best!”

The rich, nutty scent of the balm floods the room when you unscrew the top and gives you a second wind. This and a shower will fix you for sure, just as soon as you can make your way to the bathroom.

Jack fills in the blanks as soon as you look back up at him apprehensively and start with the vague gesturing and “would you mind…”

“Of course not. There’s no need for you be walking right now, that would be crazy!” If you weren’t in so much pain, you’d be swooning at the way he effortlessly scoops you up and walks over to set you down on the glossy teak shower stool (a million percent worthwhile at times like this).

“Do you want any more help in there?” It sounds like a joke, but you know he’d wash you in a heartbeat if you asked. You can’t help matching his smile.

“I think I’ve got it handled.”

“I’ll put dinner on, then.”

When you emerge, your headache has all but subsided, and while you’re still pretty out of it, the heat has done wonders for your cramps and stiffness. You can’t be bothered to do anything but throw on a pair of thinx and flop down onto the bed, slathering on more of your new balm just to keep smelling it.

Jack knocks at the open bedroom door with your tea and a fresh glass of water.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were baking in here,” he teases as sets them on the nightstand. “Dinner is on in 30 by the way.”

The idea of leaving your bed right now sounds about as appealing as getting all your teeth pulled, but you’d never dream of eating on the scrumptious new Matouk linens; the utter disrespect!

“Can you just put me back to sleep instead?”

“Sure, of course. You want a gummy or-“

“Jack!”

“Right, got it!” And he’s skittering off to grab a vibe and towel while you untangle yourself from heating pad cords.

Jack is nearly skipping coming back from the hallway closet with a fistful of toys before rolling you as little as possible to tuck the towel under your lower half. As soon as he’s back within reach, you grab a handful of his hair and drag him down to kneel next to you. He nods at the pile of silicone on the nightstand as he playfully snaps at your elastic: “Are we feeling manual or automatic?”, but you’re already bucking your hips up to shove the underwear down your thighs and wincing at the sudden movement.

“You ok?” He drops the playful tone immediately and furrows his brow in concern. You throw your arm out to grab a toy at random, landing on a satisfier. Perfect.

“Ask me again in ten minutes,” you sigh dramatically to lighten the mood, but you’re still not feeling great.

“Roger that,” Jack bites back a smug grin -as if he’s ever needed all ten- and crawls gingerly into bed to snake one arm under your waist and accept the toy with the other.

It has to be some sort of sick joke how you’re this unbelievably sensitive when you still feel so shitty. Every single nerve ending in your clit is humming in tandem with the pulses of the satisfier; the delicious sensations ricochet up and down your body enough that even your eye sockets feel tingly.

He’s entirely absorbed in making you cum and tuned into every move you make, still glancing up now and then to check for any hint of discomfort. As much as he’s committed to pleasing you, he can’t conceal the blush creeping up his neck and down from his temples, nor his ragged breathing. There’s barely enough time to acclimate and enjoy it before you feel yourself getting drawn right over the edge.

“You’ve got it-don’t fucking move-so good to me, Jack, fuck-thank you,”

You screw your eyes shut on pure instinct while your orgasm rolls through; one of your hands fumbles for purchase in his curls as he mouths sloppily over your breasts. When you manage to take another peek at him, his eyes are all crinkled up like he’s smiling while his mouth remains focused on the task at hand. A little tug on his hair and he’s cheerily licking his way down your abdomen, really letting his tongue drag so he has more time to grind against your thigh. You can already feel the wet spot forming on his boxer briefs, such a romantic!

“Having fun down there?” you purr. Jack jerks his head up, revealing a red splotch on the point of his chin.

“God, yes. Can I lick you? Please?” You’d think he’s the one who’d just came from how breathy he sounds. You cross your ankles between his shoulder blades and readjust your grip on his hair.

“Always.”

For once, Jack shows some restraint eating you. It’s all broad, slow licks in time with your heartbeat; he falls right into a natural rhythm that reminds you of crashing waves. His fingers lace together across your stomach like he’s praying, and each adoring exhale only adds to the effect. Every time he dives back in after catching his breath, a new drip flows out hot and coppery to coat him from the nose down. It’s such a perfect mess; the harsh-edged, gleaming paint job stretching ear to ear and the little smear between his eyebrows make him look like he’s been baptized in your blood.

It’s a wonder he can even hear your faint whispers of “Jack, just-just fuck me, please,” over how shamelessly he’s dragging his face through you, but he’s always been something of a miracle worker.

There’s a long, indulgent slurp like a bathtub finishing draining that makes your thoughts blur around the edges before he allows you to pull him off you and slide your feet languidly under his shorts. You’re way too sleepy to be of much help, but he’s happy to shove the waistband low enough to tuck under his balls and half wipe his mouth with the back of his hand as he crawls back up to you.

The blood pools sluggishly towards the high points of Jack’s face, and a drop splatters onto your cheek before he can stop it. Without hesitation, he swoops down to lap it up and kiss a fainter mark in its place. Barely audible, you somehow remember to pant a reminder into his ear.

“You just gotta be careful right now, my cervix is like-”

“-right up front, I remember. I gotcha, no worries,” he presses another sticky kiss to your temple as he pushes halfway in, abs clenching to keep from slipping too deep. He’s delightful as always, but each thrust is winding your nerves tighter, making your clit ache just as much as the rest of you. Fumbling once again at the nightstand, you find another vibe designed to rest snugly between you two so he’s got both hands free to rest his chin on, just rocking away while he watches you drift off. When he hits at just the right angle, you back bows up hard enough to audibly crack in relief. Those waves of relaxation mixing with the constant rumbling from the toy overwhelm you once again, dissolving what’s left of your discomfort and tugging you towards unconsciousness.

Jack can’t hold himself back when he feels you practically sucking him back in on every outstroke, and a brazen whine bursts from his throat as he pulls out, freeing a gush of pink tinged cum. It only feels natural to lean up to kiss him and lap the residual streaks from around his lips.

“Feel better?” he sighs against you, grinning so wide the drier patches on his dimples crack and start to flake off onto the towel.

“So much better,” your words slur together, and the rest of your thoughts scatter once your heads falls back onto the pillow

“You want a hot washcloth?”

“Mmmm,” It takes you a second to piece the simple sentence together; you’re still blinking away the residual stars from your vision.

“In ten minutes?”

#jack schlossberg #jack schlossberg x reader #freak nasty #get a running start put ya javelin in it!!!#anon you pushed a gross button in my head I’m real sorry if it’s too nasty #but also not that sorry #paint his face 2025 #this fic is #branded #Spotify

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yandere-yearnings · 6 months ago

Text

Know Me Like the Devil Knows My Sins (Loser!Yandere x GN!Reader)

feat. genie's loser yan

♡ oneshot, approx. 1.5k words

♡ post-specific warnings: yandere themes, implied kidnapping, violence, strangulation, implied death

♡ a/n: thank you to @moyazaika for letting me write abt his oc, loser yan!! genie, if you read this, pls ignore the fact that my characterisation sucks ass. this was over 3k but i went back and cut out the waffle bc there was a lot of it lmao, so ig it's technically edited, but not proofread.

♡♡♡

This basement was cold.

Heated blankets and warm meals, however many times a day they were brought to you, didn’t change much. No windows or light for even a semblance of passing time, all you had was the annoying draft that skimmed through the door at the top of the staircase — the one you weren’t allowed near. You wouldn’t have been able to escape even if you wanted to, not with the chain around your ankle. For as free as he tried to make you feel, the heavy metal was a constant reminder that there was no liberty in his love, if it could even be called that.

You were waiting for his return, less because you wanted to and more because it was the only thing you could do other than read the books he’d given you. They were all your favourites, from the stories your mother used to read you as a child to the ones you’d pick up on your way home when you’d grown up. At first, you’d found the thoughtfulness of it endearing, feeling seen and understood and catered to. Somewhere, kept within his walls, you didn’t blame yourself for becoming as delusional as he was.

How could you enjoy anything anymore, with no one to share it with?

Each new day that passed, every page you would read and read again, only accomplished you in realising the loneliness that coiled around you. Second by second, growing larger than your life had been before this. Soon, your loved ones would stop looking for you. Soon, you’d be considered dead — and in death you would be all his. You knew that was what he wanted.

You had made yourself comfortable on the vulnerabilities he presented to you, in the way he shook when your fingers stroked his skin, his shudders at your calling his name. That was all too good to be true. If you had actual control in this, he’d have surrendered to you long ago. You’d been testing it. Playing mind games, pushing limits — he’d shut you down quick, then cover the shrewdness in his eyes with a bashful smile. You were no fool, and clearly he wasn’t either.

Your bitterness surmounted with the echoing of locks clicking open. There wasn’t a need for as many as he had placed to keep you here, you weren’t sure you could even run anymore. You hadn’t used your legs in so long. He’d surely catch you. He’d rip your throat out like he did in your nightmares. You had no faith you wouldn’t become another layer of red on the white paint surrounding. Perhaps you should’ve been thankful, if fear were to be a knife, he’d certainly dulled it for you — slinking in, shoulders slumped and looking as meek as ever. Really, from the first glance, he didn’t look like he could hurt a fly.

“Darling…” there was that tone, demure, like you could do anything to hurt him from your place on this filthy mattress, your place on the floor as he stood above you. Towering. This entire thing felt like a sick joke. You’d once considered there being a chance for you. Hope crumbled just like he did, to his knees to look into your eyes. “I missed you so much today, my love.”

You blinked at him. You knew where this was going.

“I mean- I miss you every day, don’t get me wrong!” Sheepish laughter, twitching fingers — all signs of his wanting your validation. “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you, not at all. Work has been so hard, and you’re the only thing I can look forward to truly and- and I really, really wanted to come back home quickly and ask if you’d...”

His sentence trailed off, and it took all you had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. He wasn’t very creative, that much was obvious. You’d initially chalked it up to some cute sort of performance anxiety that he experienced because he wanted to come off as appealing to you. Now, it had begun to dawn on you that he was simply struggling to keep up the pathetics. As you curled your digits into his hair, as you tugged him closer and let him muffle his weak moan into your neck, you wondered why either of you were bothering anymore. No audience except for the earwigs that crawled about, no one who’d watch this stupid, repetitive show.

“I’ll hold you,” you whispered, tired enough that even your dishonesty could be mistaken as gentle. “I’ll hold your heart. Don’t worry. I know.”

You could feel his lips on your skin, chapped, scraping where he tried to formulate words. You were sure he too felt this warring between the both of you, this constant fight, teasing superiority, challenging who would take the reigns in this sombre dance. Bored out of your mind, anticipating when he’d get tired of you — but you were his infatuation so that could never happen.

“Not enough about me,” he breathed, “my sweetheart, my entire world, you wouldn’t know what I’ve done for you.” His hands dug into your waist where they rested, gripping flesh over fabric like it would give him warmth. It wouldn’t, because it was freezing in here.

“Won’t you tell me?”

Quiet laughter. “You’d be scared if I did.”

“I already am.” Your words made him pull away, made him peer at you with those eyes. You held his gaze. “I already am afraid of you. I already know who you are. Tell me anyway, since-”

“Since you love me.” He interrupted you, finished your sentence with words you had not been planning to utter. He didn’t say it tentatively enough; gave himself away with that and the severe expression on his face that his hair did not hide. It was a shame that now wasn’t one of your better days, lest you’d have heeded the silent warning.

“Since I can’t leave,” you corrected. No energy for even a single ounce of regret, none to even whimper at the violent pressure of his grip on your collarbones.

Sometimes, he’d come to you with blood caked under his fingernails. Sitting there like he was sinless, mouth running for hours about you in every way he could. All your likes and dislikes, all your habits, all your life — as if you didn’t know yourself. Again, those lips were moving, spitting at you like it could quell the anger you could see bubbling beneath the surface.

Your perfect person, he spilled descriptions like the ideals you once had were his intimate study, asking you why. Why wasn’t he enough even though he’s everything you’d ever wanted? When he’d made sure of it? Your chance to answer was taken by lithe fingers on your neck, but if you could, you’d have told him that at its core, it was just that every desire you had, looked like something disgusting on him.

“Sweetheart, this isn’t like you, c’mon,” his words came ringing, buzzing, an entire choir of metal scraping metal underwater, your world spinning and head pressed back into the mattress too fast to stop him from climbing on top of you, “don’t deny your feelings for me.”

Your eyes rolled back and his hold on you only loosened a fraction. Staring at the dark inside your own skull, gasping breaths through bruised tissue. You thought you heard knocking, and surely it’d be death at your door if you didn’t backtrack now, didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear, like you had been until you’d lost yourself in your own lies.

Survival instinct should’ve kicked in, but then sight and sound returned to you, and you accepted that you wouldn’t be the hero in your story. You’d get yourself killed, yet, how could you love a man that loomed over you with eyes on fire? He’d burn you up to make it through the winter, and find another once your ashes were blown away.

Even if it made you a villain, drowning in the blood pooling from your ears, you owed yourself your last rasp to him. “I hate you,” broken and choked on tears cutting through the numbness. Your nails clawing everywhere you could reach, on this bed of springs that felt nothing like the one you so desperately wanted to return to, you mourned all you were losing.

Limbs going numb — salt — you’d never see home again.

When under constant observation, there’s only so much one can conceal about themselves. He knew that well. From the pictures of you in his gallery and the endless notes with your name repeated over and over and over — he’d chosen to obsess, and you were forced to, and you became his mirror the longer he kept you. Going mad, crazy, insane because his was the only face you could remember anymore.

You knew his moods from his scent and his needs from his touch, you knew him to the heart of the blank slate he’d always been, you knew him rooted carnally to you because it was the only thing grounding him. He hadn’t needed to tell you anything really, and you didn’t need to push. You knew him like the devil knew his sins.

And he’d take you to hell for it.

#lovelettersfromdar #yandere x reader #x reader #gn reader #yandere oc #reader insert #male yandere #yan x reader #yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #gender neutral reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #yandere original character #yandere x y/n #yandere x you

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familiarscars · 2 months ago

Text

Drive You Insane | Noah Sebastian 01

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Noah Sebastian X psychiatrist!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. A mysterious new patient arrives at the Grimshade sanatorium and you have been tasked with taking care of his case.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). disturbing environment, violence, unconventional treatments, manipulation, questionable relationships, explicit sex and profanity.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

Grimshade Sanatorium, an isolated island of Blackridge in southern Canada.

It had been six long hours by plane from your city, three hours by boat, and now an hour and a half crammed into a private car with closed windows, traveling along a bumpy road that bordered a cliff as it climbed the hill. Your heart threatened to leap out of your chest at any moment, and your hands were sweating so much that they alternated between hot and cold.

You adjusted your glasses on the bridge of your nose after checking the map for the eighth time, dividing your attention between the aged paper in your fingers and the fog outside that made it impossible to figure out where you were. From what you could decipher, Grimshade Sanatorium was at the top of a hill, while the rest of the island was shrouded in dark, untamed vegetation. There was a single small town miles away from your lodging, and reaching it seemed daunting given the path ahead.

At that moment, you hoped you wouldn’t need anything from it anytime soon.

When you chose psychiatry as your specialization, you never imagined how difficult it would be to find a job in the field, especially as a newly graduated professional. It was tough for reputable clinics to give you a vote of confidence, given your youth and limited experience beyond mandatory internships and extracurricular activities in college.

Everything changed when a letter from Grimshade Sanatorium arrived—a glimmer of hope. You had applied to so many places you’d forgotten about that one. They sent a notice on vintage paper, resembling a direct invitation from Hogwarts, which you found amusing yet intriguing due to the details.

They were looking for a psychiatrist for the ward housing inmates awaiting their final sentences—many of them serving their time as residents. It wasn’t exactly what you had envisioned, especially after researching Grimshade and discovering it functioned like a maximum-security prison for the most dangerous, mentally unstable criminals.

“This is where the road ends for cars, I’m afraid. You’ll have to continue on foot,” the driver said over his shoulder, turning to look at you in the back seat.

Your slightly wide-eyed gaze shifted between the dark dirt road ahead and his drooping eyes beneath his cap. You didn’t want to let on that you felt a faint shiver running up your spine.

“I don’t know how to get there alone,” you said, trying to mask the panic in your voice. “Okay, I have a map, but what are the chances it won’t confuse me? Is there somewhere I can get Wi-Fi or better cell service to use GPS?”

Rebert—that’s how he introduced himself—merely furrowed his brows and shook his head briefly, as if the words that had left your lips were absurd.

“With all due respect, miss, but a cellphone on Blackridge Island is the most useless device you could own. There’s no signal tower; we barely manage to watch TV or get news from the outside world,” he chuckled.

“What do you mean?” you asked, frowning as you adjusted yourself in the seat. “How do people communicate here?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

Probably through letters and carrier pigeons, like a century ago.

“I need to ask one more thing. If I need to go into town, how can I call a taxi or get transportation?”

“When you get to this very intersection, you’ll see cars like mine heading toward the town. Since you’re a Grimshade employee, you’ll have unrestricted access with your ID badge. Just pay attention to the schedules and days of the week; town visits are limited to avoid coinciding with the arrival of new inmates.”

“They seem very strict about security,” you said, flexing your lips in mild surprise.

“Given the abominable creatures they house there, perhaps their measures aren’t strict enough. Strict is how I chain my dog to a post to keep him from running away. Those killers shouldn’t even have the privilege of eating and sleeping in that place,” Rebert said with a tone of contempt that left you slightly uncomfortable.

You hated when people spoke about patients that way, no matter who they were. But your beliefs and values didn’t matter much now.

“Well...” You cleared your throat, grabbing your coat and bag from the seat beside you, slinging it over your shoulder. “Thanks for the ride and the tips, Rebert.”

“Not at all, miss.”

You hauled your suitcase out of the trunk, grunting at its weight, and dragged it toward the narrower stone path. In the distance, you heard Rebert’s car pulling away, its tires crunching against the gravel. Ahead, you could make out the mansion after a steep climb, with old tree branches and dry leaves forming an archway over the path.

The journey was silent, with nothing but the sounds of nature—the raspy chirping of birds—accompanied by the soft rush of water from the cracked concrete fountain decorating the front of the sanatorium as you crossed its gates. You walked slowly around it, grimacing as you noted the general state of neglect on the facade.

The circular driveway around the fountain had cracked and darkened tiles, and the mansion’s paint was as old as the building itself, appearing white under layers of creeping vines and cracks that altered its color. You couldn’t help wrinkling your nose at the sight, the chirping of birds replaced by the distant clang of heavy metal and muffled screams as you approached.

“You must be the new doctor!” A cheerful male voice addressed you from behind, startling you as you turned fully. “I’m Travis Rune, head psychiatrist of the custody ward. I’ve been assigned to welcome you to Grimshade!”

For a moment, you considered refusing the hand he extended toward you. He could’ve arrived a little earlier and helped you carry your heavy suitcase up the hill. On the other hand, the blond man with perfectly aligned hair and broad shoulders seemed far too pleasant to snub.

“Thank you! Have you been here long, Dr. Rune?” you asked, prompting a smile as Travis gestured with his chin for you to follow him inside.

“Please, call me Travis. We’re colleagues now.” He smiled, looking at you over his square glasses, winking one strikingly blue eye.

“That’s precisely why I prefer to keep things formal,” you said without intending to sound rude, though the words slipped out as you continued assessing the mansion’s interior.

A grand staircase led to the second floor, where nurses bustled about, and various patients were being moved from one place to another—some restrained, others not. Passing by a woman banging her head against the staircase railing, Travis led you upstairs, signaling to another staff member to take care of your suitcase.

“We’ve divided Grimshade into wings and levels. You’ll identify them by the bracelets on each patient’s wrist,” he explained as you moved down the corridor, ignoring the shouting coming from one of the consulting rooms. “Level One: green bracelet. Elderly patients abandoned by their families in our asylum. Their needs are managed by the nursing staff, so you won’t have contact with them.”

You absorbed the information, looking from side to side, thinking that abandoning a family member in a place like this was the ultimate proof of someone’s character.

"Level two: yellow wristbands. Patients of random age groups with mild mental disorders also abandoned by their families, or severe cases requiring institutionalization. They are monitored by the mental health team and have a monthly consultation with me for medication adjustments."

"So, they pay to be here?" Perhaps it was a naïve question, but you needed to know.

"Their families pay an annual fee and cover the costs of keeping them here. Unless it's a custody patient, we don’t treat anyone for free, if that’s what you’re wondering."

If they had so many patients and all of them paid to be here, why keep the sanatorium in the state of an ancient asylum? You wondered as you walked past a leak dripping water from the ceiling onto your hair.

"Understood, Dr. Rune."

He seemed quite young.

Okay, he was definitely good-looking and had a pleasant way of speaking. The age gap between you and him couldn’t have been more than two years. He was definitely the kind of guy you might have had a crush on in university, without the slightest reciprocation given the countless other, more interesting options he probably had. Not that you were particularly extroverted or social, especially when it came to interacting with men.

Locking yourself up at home with your face buried in books might not have been the best idea after all.

"Last but not least, level three: red wristbands. Custody patients awaiting trial or serving sentences at the sanatorium. We use treatment to extract information that can assist authorities and contribute to investigations."

He pointed toward a consultation room where a man in a dress shirt was speaking to a girl with her head down.

"Because these are highly dangerous criminals who can’t coexist with other patients, we keep them in a separate wing, which we call the Hidden."

Dr. Rune turned the next corner, and you followed him. As you passed through the doors and descended the stairs leading to the outside, the cold hit your face, and it was impossible not to cross your arms, trying to pull your sleeves further down.

You thought the scenery couldn’t get any worse, but with each step, it became darker. As you passed through gates and two guards, it felt like stepping into a TV prison show, walking along a corridor of iron cells.

A strong stench burned your nostrils, and the screams of patients mixed with the sound of something hitting the iron were enough to make your ears ring.

"This place is the reason you’re here. Our last professional resigned, and we urgently needed to fill the position before the next evaluation cycle started," Travis shrugged as he walked.

Your confidence dropped by a few percentage points upon realizing that your hiring was out of sheer desperation. Fine, you’d deal with that later.

"They resigned?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, dodging a stream of urine aimed in your direction by a patient. "Not exactly motivating to hear that on the first day."

"It’s a tough ward; it’s not for everyone." He smiled, and you hesitated immediately. "Besides the patient files you’ll handle, you’ll need to prepare for a new detainee arriving soon."

"A new detainee?" For the first time, your question sounded genuinely intrigued.

"He’s being tried for a brutal murder. There’s little information about the case, like his motivation or even confirmation that he did it. He hasn’t spoken a word since it happened, and the judge concluded he’s not mentally sound." Travis rolled his eyes. "They dump any trash here, and it’s up to us to sort through it. Along the way, we see if we can help at all."

He was definitely fed up with this job.

"So, let me guess... you think I can make him talk?" you asked, playing with a hint of innocence as you watched Travis stop in the corridor.

"I don’t think someone as inexperienced as you can go that far, no offense." He spoke with a touch of sarcasm. "We just want you to follow protocol with him, and I’ll handle the rest."

Something prickled at the back of your neck at the way he dismissed your years of study as absolutely nothing just because your resume wasn’t as extensive as his. Your hands curled into fists, your fingers pressing into your palms, and you took a deep breath before responding.

"Of course, Dr. Rune."

The tour of the Hidden was over, and you were exhausted. Travis left you at the door of your small room with its jammed window and dusty ceiling fan. Before leaving, he emphasized the importance of being well-rested to receive the new patient the next day. After your shower, you wanted to call your mother and let her know you had arrived safely on the island after hours of travel, but without any signal, no matter where you moved in the room, this mission was impossible. Tossing the phone onto your pillow, you promised yourself you’d give her an update as soon as you had a break and could visit the town.

With a tired sigh, you sat at the desk next to the bed, drying your hair with a towel while flipping through patient files. You weren’t sleepy yet, and without the entertainment of the internet, all you could do was work.

Patient File 1: Ash A., 39 years old - Admission: June 2019 Preliminary Diagnosis: Severe psychopathy; dissociative disorder.

History: Ash was admitted after being declared legally insane during the trial for a series of brutal murders. He worked as a taxidermist, and his obsession with preserving "human perfection" led him to conduct grotesque experiments on his victims, all meticulously chosen. He claimed he was "saving" their souls by preserving them in an "immortal" form. During initial sessions, he displayed a complete lack of remorse and a disturbingly detailed recounting of his actions. Current State: Apathetic during interactions, except when discussing his “art.” Shows no signs of rehabilitation or acknowledgment of the atrocities committed.

You raised your eyebrows and jotted down notes in your notebook before moving to the next file.

Patient File 2: Mariene G., 27 years old - Admission: October 2021 Preliminary Diagnosis: Schizoaffective disorder with violent tendencies.

History: Mariene was found in a state of shock next to the body of her older brother, stabbed 23 times. Apparently, she believed he was a demonic entity trying to steal her soul. According to family testimony, Mariene began exhibiting paranoid behavior months earlier, hearing voices instructing her to protect herself "at all costs." In one interview, she stated she "had no choice" and that "his eyes burned like embers."

Current State: Alternates between periods of lucidity and paranoia. Aggressive during confrontations, requiring constant supervision.

“Mariene is a pretty name…” you murmured, assessing the photo of the woman with blonde eyebrows.

Patient File 3: Brady P., 52 years old - Admission Date: January 2020

Preliminary Diagnosis: Antisocial personality disorder; extreme persecution mania.

History: Brady was a former financial executive who believed he was being pursued by a "secret society" responsible for monitoring his every move and manipulating his life. This paranoia culminated in a public attack at a shopping mall, where Brady set fire to three stores and stabbed two security guards, claiming they were "infiltrators." He maintains that each act was a measure of self-preservation against an invisible enemy.

Current State: Rarely sleeps, claiming that "they will find him" if he closes his eyes. Displays consistent delusions despite intensive medication.

With the third file finished, you exhaled sharply, letting your lips vibrate, imagining what could have driven the previous psychiatrist to resign, leaving this position open for you.

Patient File 4: Noah S., 24 years old - Admission Date: February 2024

Preliminary Diagnosis: Psychogenic catatonia associated with borderline personality disorder and severe dissociative episodes.

History: Noah was found at dawn in a grove near the university campus, kneeling beneath a large tree. Above him hung the mutilated body of his ex-girlfriend, Rachel E., 23 years old, suspended by her ankles and bearing signs of extreme violence: deep cuts marked her skin, symbols carved into her torso, and her frozen expression suggested a slow and painful death.

Noah was covered in blood, both his own and Rachel’s. When approached by police, he remained motionless, staring blankly at her hanging body. Initial investigations revealed the two had been seen together the night before at a rival fraternity party where, according to witnesses, a heated argument occurred. The circumstances of the crime raised questions of premeditation and symbolic rituals, but Noah never provided an explanation. From the moment of his capture, Noah had not spoken a single word. Extensive psychiatric evaluations concluded that his muteness and apathy were not conscious choices but the result of a profound dissociative state combined with severe trauma. During the trial, his inert posture and lack of defense led to an insanity plea and his transfer to Grimshade Sanitarium.

Current State: Noah remains in complete silence, minimally interacting with his surroundings. Nurses’ reports mention he is often found staring into space for hours, particularly near windows or trees. His only movements thus far have been sudden bursts of rage when provoked.

Closing the file, the feeling lingered — a deep chill seemed to originate from the center of your chest, raising the hair on your arms. Noah’s face in the photograph seemed almost alive, his intense, furrowed gaze carrying something impossible to name. For a moment, you wondered what it would be like to stand face-to-face with someone harboring such silence and horror within.

But your curiosity wouldn’t have to last long — you would meet him tomorrow.

The day began with an unusual restlessness. The hot water from the shower didn’t dissipate the cold that seemed to settle in your nape, and Noah’s face from the photograph lingered like a shadow, even with your eyes closed. It was as though the intensity of his gaze was imprinted on your mind, and more than once, you caught yourself trying to divert your thoughts — unsuccessfully — while instinctively clutching your thighs.

The tattoos — intricate and dark — covering his neck and peeking from the collar of his shirt didn’t help, drawing attention to themselves. Something about that man disturbed you more than any other patient you had encountered, and the feeling only grew as you prepared, choosing an outfit that projected professionalism, though a hint of nervousness threatened to show.

Descending to reception, you found Dr. Rune waiting with a calm smile and a hot coffee. You thanked him, holding the cup with both hands, trying to savor the warmth as a fleeting comfort. Walking together toward the outside, he explained some logistical details, but his words soon faded as a growing noise filled the corridor.

Crossing the main entrance doors, you stopped abruptly, startled by the scene unfolding before you. Journalists crowded like a compact swarm, camera flashes firing in rapid succession, and visibly overwhelmed security guards struggling to contain the horde. It was a chaotic visual and auditory assault, intensifying with each passing second.

“I should’ve warned you,” Travis murmured beside you, noting your expression. “Not only is his case infamous, but Noah comes from a very influential family. The owners of Blackridge, basically. They have fortune, power... and apparently no hurry to help their precious son.”

“They’re not trying to prove his innocence?” you asked innocently.

“All signs point to them wanting to stay out of the case due to the exposure. We’re in the isolated area, but Blackridge’s noble district is so conservative it’s believed that land still exists in a time capsule that hasn’t evolved.”

“That sounds... complicated.”

“Just another piece of gossip about a random patient.”

The information landed heavily, given Travis’s mocking tone, and you tried to ignore him.

“They won’t back off anytime soon,” Rune commented, his eyes scanning the commotion with a weary expression. “Be prepared — this will complicate things inside as well. Friends of mine at the penitentiary said this guy has an ego to match.”

The chaos ahead seemed to swell with the arrival of the convoy. You barely had time to process everything — the blinding flashes, the cacophony of voices shouting questions — when the door of the central car opened. Two guards stepped out first, taking rigid positions, before pulling Noah out.

He emerged with a surprising posture. There was no resistance in his movements, but neither was there submission. With his chin raised, his face remained expressionless, his eyes fixed on an undefined point on the horizon, avoiding the cameras with a determination that seemed almost practiced. The tattoos, now more visible, climbed along the side of his neck and hinted beneath the collar of his gray shirt, creating an almost hypnotic contrast against his pale skin.

Noah seemed unperturbed, untouchable, as though the swarm of journalists and flashes were nothing more than a breeze around him. But then, something shifted. His firm steps faltered for an instant, almost imperceptibly, and he stopped abruptly.

That’s when you realized: he was looking directly at you.

The air around you seemed to freeze under the weight of his gaze, as overwhelming as in the photograph, but now there was something more — an intensity that seemed to pierce through you, as if examining something far beyond what others could see. His eyes were a blend of ice and fire, fixed on you with such deliberate focus that your stomach involuntarily tightened.

The moment lasted only seconds but felt like an eternity. One of the guards touched Noah’s shoulder impatiently, and he resumed walking as if nothing had happened. Yet, the impact of that brief exchange lingered.

“He usually doesn’t react to anything,” Travis remarked beside you, his voice low but tinged with curiosity. “That was... strange.”

Strange.

The word felt insufficient to describe what you had just experienced. As Noah was led inside, you remained frozen, trying to understand why that fleeting instant made your skin tingle, as though something inevitable was about to happen.

You were in the asylum’s forest, each step swallowed by the oppressive silence, broken only by the crunch of dry leaves beneath your feet. The air was dense, almost suffocating, and you knew you weren’t alone. Something—or someone—was behind you.

Your breaths were shallow and quick, every fiber of your being urging you to run, yet your legs felt rooted to the ground. Then, you heard it.

A whisper, far too close, as though it came from inside your mind:

“Run.”

The word was a command, and you obeyed without hesitation. Your body lunged forward, crashing through trees and brush with an urgency that felt primal. But the ground seemed to fight against you, each step more laborious than the last. Heat built between your thighs—confusing, strange—mixing with the adrenaline surging down your spine.

When the sound of footsteps behind you intensified, the adrenaline peaked. You could no longer think, only run, but you knew it was futile. He was too close.

Suddenly, something yanked your hair with brutal force, jerking you backward. A scream tore from your lips as your back collided with the rough surface of a tree. The pain of bark scraping against your exposed skin was eclipsed by his presence—a towering, menacing shadow.

His face was obscured, hidden in darkness, but the patterns on his neck were unmistakable. You recognized the intricate lines of tattoos that had haunted your thoughts all day. The broad shoulders and the strength with which he gripped your jaw confirmed your deepest fear.

It was Noah.

He tilted his head, studying you with a terrifying calm. The sound of his breathing was heavy, almost animalistic. Before you could react, he pressed his body against yours, pinning you between the tree and his overwhelming presence.

The heat pulsing between your thighs became unbearable, tangled in terror and tension. You tried to speak, but the words lodged in your throat as he gripped your neck with a possessive firmness, his fingers digging into your skin.

And then, like a violent wave, you woke up.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, breaths coming in ragged gasps, and cold sweat drenched your skin. The darkness of your room was suffocating, though not as much as the weight of that dream. It wasn’t merely fear—it was something deeply visceral, almost tangible, making your skin crawl and your entire body rebel against what you had just experienced.

That man was going to drive you insane.

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