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oneshotwonderz · 2 days ago

Note

Could you do Angst w/ a happy ending between Megan and fem!reader please?

Left On Read | Megan x female!reader

Pairing: Idol!Megan x female!reader

Genre: Angst with a happy ending after idol!megan starts to forget her girlfriend whilst on tour.

CW: Heartbreak, emotional neglect, anxiety spiral, lots of tears, ANGST

Request: Could you do Angst w/ a happy ending between idol!Megan from katseye and fem!reader please?

Authors note: Why is angst so fun to write??

It started with missed calls.

At first, she would phone every night without fail, sometimes even twice. Once when she woke up, once before you’d go to bed. Asking about your day, what you ate, if your cat Tigger was still trying to chew through your charger cable. You’d fall asleep to the sound of her voice like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Then the calls started coming every other day. Then once a week. Then… nothing.

At least she still texted. Usually little things, sent between soundcheck and sleep.

Megan: Morning my love 🫶🏼 Megan: [Image sent] Saw this and thought of you 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 Megan: Night baby, thinking of you 💤

But even those began to fade. First they lost the detail, then the emojis, then the nicknames. Then they just… stopped altogether.

You told yourself it was the time zones, busy rehearsals for concerts, or it was jet lag from the constant flying, oh and the press interviews make her very busy. But even the reasons started to sound like apologies and bad excuses you were making for her.

Now all you had were ghost messages. Unanswered bubbles hanging heavy in the thread.

Y/N: How was rehearsal today? 💞 [read] 7 days ago Y/N: Miss youuu🫂 [read] 5 days ago Y/N: Great performance today Mei! [read] 2 days ago

There was no reply straight away but then it turned into two days, four days, a week. Tonight, you didn’t even try to message, there was no point in trying.

You curled deeper under the duvet, phone pressed against your chest like some last desperate attempt to hold her warmth. But all it held was silence. And the ache, that gnawing, rotting ache felt deep in your stomach, all came from not knowing if you were still hers.

You’d seen her livestream earlier that day. It was supposed to comfort you, maybe give an insight into why she had been distant.

Instead, it cracked something open.

She was on a backstage couch, legs draped over Manon’s lap, both of them giggling into the camera. Daniela leaned in from behind and fluffed Megan’s hair, and Megan had laughed so hard she’d nearly dropped the phone.

It didn’t help that she looked good. Glowing. Her voice was hoarse from the show, but her smile was full, eyes bright. Like the girl who used to cry when leaving your bed for early morning dance practice had never even existed.

You watched her read fan comments aloud. “‘Are you dating anyone?’ Nahhh,” she’d grinned, tossing her head dramatically. “You guys know the only relationship I have is with eyekons and the stage.”

That stung, there was no hesitation, no joke like usual that hinted towards a secret partner, just a clean perfect answer that did not consider you.

You wanted to be happy for her. She was on a world tour, living her dream. But weren’t you part of that dream? Hadn’t she once promised you that “no matter where I am in the world, you’ll always be home”?

Two years. That’s how long you'd been together.

You remembered her whispering forever into your neck during that final night before she left for tour. Fingers tangled in yours, pinky promises made under covers. She’d kissed your tears away and said, “I’ll never make you feel like you’re not loved, not once.”

And yet here you were, trying not to cry over a phone that hadn’t lit up in days.

You woke up the next day debating whether it was worth it, whether you could take it any longer.

Evening hit and you came to a decision.

By the time your voice note started recording, your hands were shaking. Your voice came out so quiet, so raw, it didn’t even sound like you.

“Hey,” you started, barely louder than a breath. “I don’t even know if you’ll hear this. I don’t know if you check anymore. Or if you even care to.”

Your lip trembled, and you bit down hard to stop it, but the tears came anyway.

“I don’t want to be mad at you,” you whispered. “I don’t. I know this is everything you ever worked for. I know this is what we talked about, what I swore I’d support.”

The next words were harder.

“But I didn’t think supporting you meant losing you. I didn’t think I’d be the only one holding on while you got… brighter without me.”

The screen blurred as your tears fell, dripping off your chin.

“I feel like I’m yelling into a void, Mei. Every text, every missed call, it’s like I’m talking to a ghost. And I told myself it’s okay, that you’re busy, that I could be patient. But now I’m just… hurting.”

You paused, voice breaking into a sob you couldn’t swallow.

“I don’t want to be the girl who begs to be remembered. So I won’t. I love you. Fuck, I love you so much. But I think I need to let you go now… Good bye Mei.”

Your thumb hovered.

Then, before you could take it back-

[Voice Note sent]

And then you turned your phone off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Backstage, Megan was still catching her breath. The lights had just gone down, the echo of fans still vibrating in her chest. Sweat clung to her skin as she peeled off her in-ears, heart still racing from the final dance break.

She should have felt high. Alive. Unstoppable, but instead, she felt empty.

Her phone buzzed in her jacket pocket.

Y/N 🖤 — Voice Note (1)

She froze.

Her thumb hovered, breath caught in her throat. Something in her gut twisted. She knew this wasn’t a “miss you” or a “good luck tonight”.

She pressed play.

And everything stopped.

The dressing room blurred. The voices faded, and the adrenaline drained from her limbs.

The sound of your voice, shaking, broken, on the verge of collapse, hit her like a knife to the chest.

She staggered back, hand gripping the edge of the table. “No. No. No, no-”

Daniela glanced up from across the room. “Megan?”

She didn’t answer. She was already typing, calling, leaving messages, but your number was off. Dead. Gone.

“Fuck I need to get to LA,” she said, grabbing her bag with trembling hands.

“Megs- what? Seoul’s in less than twelve hours, we haven’t even-”

“I don’t care,” she snapped, voice cracked and frantic. “If I wait another day, I’ll lose her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was raining by the time you opened the door. Of course it was. Cold, unforgiving sheets of rain that soaked your socks through the welcome mat. Wind curling into the doorway like it, too, wanted a front-row seat to whatever this was about to be.

But none of that mattered.

Because there she was.

Megan.

Hoodie drenched. Shoes caked in mud. Hair plastered to her face in dark, heavy strands. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days, eyes bloodshot, cheeks hollow, mascara smudged. Her chest heaved like she’d run the whole way from the airport just to get to you.

You stared at her, unmoving. Fists clenched at your sides, jaw locked tight. Every part of you screamed to shut the door and run.

But your heart, traitorous, stupid heart, stayed exactly where it was.

She looked at you like she was seeing you for the first time, like you were oxygen.

“Don’t say anything,” she choked out, voice barely holding together. “Just, please let me talk first.”

You nodded once, sharp. Arms crossed over your chest like armor. The kind you’d had to build up every day she didn’t call.

“I messed up,” she started, stepping into the light. “I thought I could juggle it all. The tour, the fans, the chaotic days… and still keep us safe. Keep you safe. But somewhere along the way, I started dropping the wrong things.”

You scoffed, sharp, bitter. “Yeah. Like me.”

She winced. “I didn’t forget you.”

“You didn’t have to forget me,” you snapped. “You just had to ignore me until I felt like I didn’t exist.”

Megan stepped forward, cautious, like approaching a wounded animal. “Every time I didn’t call, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to. I was drowning. I didn’t know how to talk to you without-”

“No,” you cut in, voice rising. “No, I want a real answer. Why did you stop messaging me? Why did the texts stop, Megan? Why didn’t you call me back?”

She faltered. Her lip trembled.

“Because every time I picked up the phone,” she said, voice thin, “I felt like I couldn’t be enough. Not for you, not for everything. And I know how that sounds, I know it’s selfish. But I was so tired, Y/N. I was scared if I let you hear me like that… tired and numb and bitter… you’d hear something in me that you didn’t love anymore.”

You stared at her, stunned. Your heart cracked just a little wider. “You thought I’d stop loving you because you were struggling?” you whispered, disbelief laced with hurt.

She nodded helplessly, eyes glossy. “I thought… if I kept quiet, if I could just push through, I could come back when I was better. Put the smile back on, be the girlfriend you deserved again.”

“But I didn’t want better, Megan, I wanted you.” Your voice broke. “Even if you were tired, even if you were falling apart. That’s what you promised me, you don’t shut me out.”

“I know,” she said. “And I broke that promise.”

“You didn’t just break it,” you snapped. “You shattered it. I was sitting here, sobbing into texts and phone calls you weren’t even opening. I was begging for connection while you were livestreaming and laughing like I didn’t exist. You made me feel small, invisible.”

Her eyes flooded. “You were never invisible to me.”

“Then why did it feel like it?” you demanded, chest heaving. “Why did I have to keep reminding myself I wasn’t being dramatic? That I was allowed to be hurt that the person I love just… went silent?”

Megan’s voice was barely a whisper. “Because I was scared that if I showed you how broken I felt, you’d realize I was too much.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me,” you said, voice shaking. “You don’t get to protect me by erasing me.”

She stepped forward again, just close enough that you could feel the rain dripping off her sleeves onto your skin.

“I didn’t need you to protect me from the mess,” you said, low and sharp. “I just needed to feel like I still mattered.”

Silence. A beat. Then another. And then-

“You should’ve dragged me in,” you whispered. “You didn’t have to do it alone.”

That was all it took.

Megan surged forward, crossing the threshold, wrapping her arms around your waist like it was instinct. Her face buried in your neck, her tears hot against your skin, mingling with the cold rain already soaking through your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “y/n/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you. I just… I was holding it all in and by the time I looked up, I thought I’d already lost you.”

Your hands hovered in the air for a moment, uncertain. Then you caved, sinking into her like she was the only home you’d ever known.

Your fingers tangled in her soaked hoodie, and your voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “You could’ve just called.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I should’ve. I should’ve done a hundred things. But I’m here now, and I swear to you, I’m not letting go. Not again.”

You finally looked at her.

Swollen eyes, red nose, lips trembling. The rain was clinging to her eyelashes.

“I hate you,” you muttered, voice cracking, “for making me feel like I didn’t matter.”

“I know,” she said again, broken and honest.

“I cried, a lot.”

“I know.” Her hands tightened at your waist.

“…I still love you.”

“I’ve never stopped.”

And then you kissed her.