#and talk and be together and come together once in a while

[kxsagi]

hiii can I request the bllk boys reacting to you pregnancy “problems” like weird cravings, hormones going wild and maybe low self esteem?

“𝐡𝐨𝐭, 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝”

a/n: apologies if this is too short, but i hope it brought some comfort/fluff 🥹

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, ness alexis

isagi yoichi

the second you cry over a dropped spoon, he’s kneeling on the kitchen floor holding it like he just witnessed a tragedy. 

“it’s okay, love, we’ll get you a new one. a prettier one. a golden one. maybe platinum. do you want it engraved?” 

makes you a snack tray at 3:21 AM after you whispered "i could really go for pickles and whipped cream.” 

tries it with you to make you feel normal. regrets it instantly. “this tastes like ass.” 

when you get emotional over stretch marks, he kisses each one and says, “battle scars from building our tiny legend. you’re beautiful.” 

actually tears up during every OB appointment like “omg that’s our baby. that’s our baby. that’s our baby.” 

itoshi rin

hormonal outbursts? he stands there like a soldier in a war zone. you’re screaming? he's silently offering you water. 

you once yelled "THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” and he nodded and said “you’re right. my bad.” 

he googles every craving. will travel for 40 minutes to get that one specific brand of kiwi yogurt. 

you say, “i feel huge,” and he deadass frowns. “don’t say that. you look good. really good. like ‘pregnancy-glow filter’ good.” 

holds your bump while you sleep. sometimes whispers to it when he thinks you’re not listening. “i’m gonna protect you. and your mom. always.” 

offers his hoodie as a bribe when you cry. “you want my hoodie? it’s soft. i warmed it up for you.” 

itoshi sae

you tell him you’re craving grapes at midnight. he says, “no,” then shows up five minutes later with four different kinds. 

lowkey terrified of your hormones. says the wrong thing once, gets silent treatment, and now triple-checks every sentence. 

“you’re glowing” = safe. 

“you’re big” = instant death. 

he watches your belly move and gasps like he saw god. “that was a kick. i felt a kick. that’s my kid. holy shit.” 

when you cry about your changing body, he gently drapes his jacket over your shoulders and kisses your neck. 

“don’t cry, love. you’re literally growing a whole human. you’re like the final boss of women.” 

kaiser michael

the moment you say you feel unattractive? he does a photo shoot. sets up lighting. poses you. takes 67 pictures. 

“look at this. are you seeing what i’m seeing? mother of my child and also mother of my dreams.” 

goes completely insane over cravings. makes entire menus out of your weird combos. “tonight’s special is hot cheetos dipped in vanilla pudding. chef’s kiss.” 

calls your baby bump “his little heir.” talks to it in german. rubs it like it’s a magic lamp. 

when you start tearing up at a commercial, he climbs into your lap. “if you cry, i cry. we suffer together.” 

kisses every inch of your body while murmuring praises. “you’re perfect. inside, outside, hormonally deranged and all.” 

shidou ryusei

“so what you’re saying is… you want spicy noodles with a side of cookie dough?” 

“yeah.” 

“say no more. i’ll cook it in the kitchen. shirtless. just for you.” 

has zero fear of your mood swings. actually kind of enjoys them. “you gonna cry again, baby? should i grab the tissues or my camera?” 

kisses your swollen ankles and rubs lotion into them while talking to your belly like “you better come out cool, ‘cause your mom’s a goddess.” 

calls your boobs his “pregnancy prize.” you slap him. he says “worth it.” 

says he’s gonna teach your baby how to throw hands if anyone ever makes you cry. 

bachira meguru

you say you’re craving cotton candy and salami? he gets it, but also adds gummy bears and says, “it needed more color.” 

randomly draws cute smiley faces on your belly with eyeliner. “look! it’s our son! happy little guy.” 

emotional? he gets emotional with you. “you’re crying?! then I’M crying!! look at us!!” 

makes up songs about your snatched pregnant body. sings them off-key. 

“she’s glowing, glowing, pregnancy showing, my wife is so fine, she got me goingggg~” 

if you ever say you feel gross or bloated, he gasps like it’s blasphemy. “how dare you insult the QUEEN who made a whole new organ!” 

nagi seishiro

“you want me to get up and go get chips?” 

you pout. 

he’s up in 0.3 seconds. “ugh. fine. for our baby.” 

surprisingly excellent at calming you down when you’re moody. just lays down with you and softly pets your hair like a sleepy cat. 

massages your lower back with one hand and snacks with the other. multitasking king. 

says your pregnancy is “cool” and that your belly makes a good pillow. 

when you start feeling down about how you look, he literally lifts your shirt and plants a kiss on your stomach. 

“you’re perfect. even if you throw a shoe at me later. still perfect.” 

ness alexis

he’s the guy who brings you twelve snacks, three juices, a cooling pad, and a plushie because you sniffled once. 

“she’s growing a whole baby, not just any baby, our baby. she deserves luxury.” 

if your cravings are weird, he tries to “enhance” them with magic. 

“honey, i added a sprinkle of cinnamon on your hot dog. trust the process.” 

draws little stars on your stretch marks and calls them constellations. “you’re the whole galaxy, babe.” 

you get insecure once and he’s writing poetry like “her hips held life. her stomach, strength. her heart, eternal.” 

tells his baby bedtime stories about how their mom is a radiant queen and he’s just her humble jester. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[hyunjinsmuze]

Game over, baby

warnings: unprotected sex (don’t do that!), rough felix, dirty talk

contains: ⛔️smut

summary: felix was never dominant, not till tonight, not till you teased him a little too much.

pairing: felix x reader

words: 2k

You and Felix had been together for a few months now — that kind of soft, magnetic love that made everything feel warm and a little dizzy. There were late-night walks with your fingers tangled together, shared playlists, matching hoodies, and long weekends spent doing absolutely nothing… except touching, talking, kissing. Falling a little harder each time.

And Felix, your golden boy, had layers you never got tired of peeling back. He was sweet, cuddly, and eager to please. But under all that softness, there was heat. A quiet sort of hunger that only came out when you poked the right spot.

Like tonight.

He was planted on the couch, hunched over the controller, headset slung messily around his neck. The glow of the monitor flickered across his cheekbones, illuminating the slight furrow in his brow as he focused hard on his game.

“Fucking campers,” he muttered, thumb flying over the joystick. “Bro, there’s no way that hit, did you see that?!”

You smiled, lingering in the doorway for a moment, just watching him. He was so locked in, jaw clenched, brows drawn together, he didn’t even notice you coming up behind him until you draped your arms loosely over his shoulders from behind.

“Hi, Lixie.”

He glanced up and his whole face changed. Smile blooming. Eyes softening. Voice suddenly boyish and warm.

“Hey, baby,” he said, tipping his head back for a kiss.

You pecked him quickly, then let your arms slide down his chest before stepping around the couch. Oversized hoodie swishing around your thighs, pleated skirt barely covering anything.

He watched you settle onto his lap, his brows lifting just slightly. “Mmm. Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you whispered, tucking yourself neatly onto his thighs, straddling him with ease.

He adjusted to you out of habit, one hand loosely resting on your hip while the other stayed on the controller.

His sweatpants were soft beneath you — but not soft enough to hide how fast he started to grow under you. And you were bare. No panties. No shorts. Just skin and heat.

You rocked your hips just slightly, letting your bare folds graze along the thickening shape beneath the fabric.

Felix twitched. You felt it.

His voice caught. “Wait… baby—”

You leaned in close, brushing your lips against his ear. “Keep playing.”

He blinked. “Y-you’re not wearing anything?”

You smiled. “Nope.”

A choked sound left him, and his hands stuttered on the controller. “Holy shit.”

You nuzzled into his neck, lips grazing skin. “I just wanted to feel you.”

You shifted again and he gasped, because now he could really feel you. Wet, warm, dragging right over his clothed cock. A twitch. A pulse. Another inch of him hardening beneath you.

His voice was higher now. “You’re—fuck, babe—if you keep moving like that I’m gonna lose—”

“I don’t care if you win,” you murmured, fingers curling around the waistband of his sweats. “I just want this.”

He watched you, dazed, needy, as you slid your hand into his pants, curling your fingers around him and slowly tugging him free.

Felix hissed through his teeth. “Oh my God.”

You held him for a beat, feeling how hard he was already. Then, with no warning, you lifted your hips and lined him up, pressing the head of his cock against your entrance before easing down. Inch by inch.

The moan he let out was almost wounded. Deep and helpless.

“Shit— you’re—fuck—baby—”

“I just want to stay like this,” you whispered, fully seated now, buried to the hilt. “No moving.”

Felix’s mouth hung open, his whole body trembling as you clenched around him once. Just once. Slowly. Cruelly.

“...Are you serious?”

“Mhm.” You licked his earlobe. “Be good. Play your game.”

He tries.

For two full matches.

Sweat slicks at his temples, his voice tight when he talks into the mic, hands gripping the controller like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

But you keep pulsing around him. Your heat, your breath on his skin, your soft little sighs every time he shifts under you. He’s leaking. Twitching. A mess.

And the worst part? He knows he’s not allowed to do anything about it.

He tried, he really did, the feeling of your wet, gummy walls tight around his cock was too much.

He snapped.

The controller hit the carpet with a dull thud, but neither of you looked down.

Felix’s hands gripped your hips like they were the only things tethering him to Earth. His head dropped forward, nose brushing your collarbone as he let out a trembling breath — and for a second, he just stayed there. Breathing you in. Letting the heat simmer.

Then he looked up at you.

Eyes dark. Jaw tight. That soft, golden boy of yours?

Gone.

“Do you think this is funny?” His voice was low, a warning. More gravel than air. You swore your whole body pulsed at the sound.

Your breath caught. “I… I just wanted—”

He cut you off by rocking his hips up once, hard, making your eyes roll back instantly.

“No.” Another snap of his hips, rougher this time. You gasped, grabbing his shoulders. “You wanted to play games.”

You nodded helplessly, already trembling from how deep he was, the sudden stretch making your thighs shake.

“Well, guess what,” he growled, standing up with you still on him. “Game over, baby”

He dropped you onto the bed face-down, making you bounce slightly on impact. You didn’t even get a second to turn before he was on you, chest to your back, one hand pressing between your shoulder blades to keep you down as he lined himself up again.

“Lix—wait—” you started, voice barely a whisper, “you’re still—”

He thrust in without warning.

You cried out, not from pain, but from the shock of it, how deep he buried himself in one smooth, merciless stroke. His cock had been nestled inside you the entire time, twitching, leaking, waiting, and now it was unleashed.

“You don’t get to tease me like that and then pretend you’re innocent,” he hissed in your ear, hips already rolling in hard, sharp strokes. “You sit there with nothing on. You grind on me. You fuckin’ clench around me while I’m trying to concentrate—”

“I didn’t mean—fuck—” You were gasping, arching up into him as your thighs shook. The angle was brutal. Deep.

“Yes, you did. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

He gripped your wrists and pinned them above your head, hips never slowing. The slap of skin-on-skin echoed through the room, lewd and rhythmic, interrupted only by your moans — and his growls.

“You like teasing me?” He leaned down, biting at your shoulder. “You like being a needy little brat?”

“Yes—yes—Lix—please—”

“You like getting used like this? Bent over with your legs shaking while I fuck the attitude out of you?”

You moaned, high and desperate, burying your face into the sheets. “I’m sorry—”

“Oh, you will be.”

He flipped you suddenly, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder and pushing in again from the front. Your hands flew to his chest, nails digging in for any kind of control, but there was none, not with the way he was looking at you.

Hair sticking to his forehead. Lips parted. Eyes locked on your face like it was the only thing that existed.

And God, he looked wrecked. Flushed, panting, sweat dripping down his neck — completely feral.

“I’ve been so fucking patient,” he rasped, driving into you over and over. “You were sitting on my cock while I tried to ignore it, tried to focus—but you just kept clenching. You wanted this.”

“I did,” you sobbed, wrapping your arms around him. “I wanted it—I wanted you to lose control—”

He laughed, short and breathless, like he couldn’t believe how far gone he already was.

“Yeah? You want to see what losing control really looks like?”

Then he slammed in, one final thrust that made your whole body jolt, and stayed there.

Deep. Still. Pulsing.

He bent down, mouth right at your ear.

“Ride me.”

You blinked through the haze, brain barely working. “W-what?”

He pulled out, roughly grabbed your hips, and dropped back onto the mattress, flat on his back, cock glistening, hard, flushed, insanely ready.

“You wanted this,” he said again, voice rough, “so come take it.”

You crawled into his lap, thighs shaking as you hovered over him, sinking back down inch by inch, both of you moaning the moment he bottomed out.

Your hands braced on his chest. His eyes stayed locked on yours. And this time?

You started moving.

First slow, grinding your hips in tight circles. Then faster, up and down, thighs burning, nails digging into his skin as you chased the edge that had been taunting you all night.

Felix groaned beneath you, grabbing your hips and meeting your rhythm now, pushing up into you on every bounce.

“That’s it,” he gritted, “fuck, just like that—taking it so well—so tight around me—”

You whimpered, eyes rolling. “I’m close—Felix, I’m so close—”

“Then come.” His voice was a snarl now. “Soak my cock. Show me how much you needed this.”

You shattered.

It hit you like a wave, violent, full-body, clenching around him as your legs locked up, thighs trembling. You collapsed against his chest, moaning into his neck.

But he didn’t stop.

He flipped you again, slamming in from behind, hands gripping your waist like you were his to break.

“You think we’re done?” he growled, rutting into you with ruthless rhythm. “You cockwarm me and then make me wait? Nah, baby. I’m taking every fuckin’ second back.”

You were babbling now, words falling out with every thrust. “Too much—can’t—it’s too much—”

“Yes, you can.” He leaned over you, lips brushing your ear. “You’re gonna take everything I give you.”

And you did.

Until you were sobbing. Overstimulated. Fucked out. Barely able to move.

Then finally — finally — you felt it.

His hips stuttered. His breath caught.

And with a low, broken moan, Felix came inside you, hips flush, arms wrapped around your middle as he buried himself as deep as he could go.

“Mine,” he panted into your shoulder. “All of you.”

You nodded weakly, shivering in his arms. “Yours.”

@hwangjoanna @penguins-in-space @sammhisphere @skyearby @hwangjoanna

A/N; comment if you wanna be added to the tag list and if you have any requests send them to my page <3

[rafeslvbug]

Reader wants nfl!rafe to reconcile with ward (after years of having kids etc.) because she wants her kids to get to know their grandfather and rafe can't take it anymore and accepts and they go back to obx for the summer. ward plays with his grandchildren like a sweet grandfather at first and then the whole family eats dinner together but ward starts criticizing rafe about his career etc. rafe doesn't respond to him and continues eating his food until ward says something negative about reader and rafe slams his hand on the table and says "i don't care what you say about me but you can't talk to my wife like that" then he grabs reader's arm and says "this is over with this nonsense" and takes his kids and wife and leaves

“rafe, i promise it won’t be so bad!” you tell him, hurrying your son along with his little hand in yours while rafe strides up the gravel path to tannyhill. his grip on your other hand is bone-crushing, and your daughter is tucked into his chest, the tenseness emanating from rafe onto the little girl in his arm.

you had begged him to go back to the outerbanks with you, reconnect with old friends and even stop by his dad’s. ward had been trying recently to reconcile with you guys, only for rafe to ignore every try. but upon your insistent pleas, he’d finally gave in.

“sweetheart, it’s always bad.” rafe stops at the door, facing you for the briefest moments and pressing a kiss to your lips like it might just be his salvation. you’re sure you can spot the worry creasing his forehead before he swiftly turns and knocks. despite the dismissal, you still try and chase the look on his face even when the door swings open.

“rafe! y/n! it’s good to see you two!” ward exclaims, a smile on his face when he pats a stiff rafe on the back and hugs you. “and who have you brought with you?” he grins, looking at the two children, one clutching your hand, the other attached to rafe’s hip.

“yeah, ‘s..fine seeing you too,” he mumbles, earning a sharp nudge from you in the side, covered up by your smile as you introduce each of the kids to their estranged grandfather.

leading you in, ward made an effort to point out everything that had changed since you had last been here (since you and rafe ran away), which rafe took as subtle jabs and you brushed off as poorly made comedy. there was polite chitchat on the couch, and then the introduction of your kids’ favourite time - toy time.

your kids learnt to soften towards him, it wasn’t hard after all, it only took the rare toys rafe hadn’t gotten them yet to sway their opinion. peering out the window to the backyard you watched as he played with the kids, moving around with the vigour of a man perhaps ten years younger. “see rafe? they look happy; this was a good thing,” you say to him, letting him tug you into him with a strong arm around your neck. he lowered his mouth to your ear, as if trying to conceal what he was saying from ward in the way you used to when you were younger, murmuring, “good for now.”

rafe didn’t know if he was glad to be right, or disappointed.

dinner was calm, for once, you dishing out for the kids and rafe doing his best to engage in conversation. until it steered in an unwanted direction. “y’know rafe..i always thought you made such a mistake doing what ya did,” ward muses and rafe stiffens, sensing the path this was going down. not one of admittance, where he accepted his wrongs, but one of obstinancy, where he decided rafe could do better, still. “and i mean it worked out wonderfully.” rafe held his breath. “but i always wonder what you could have been.” first blow. shortly followed by incessant jabs and punches against his career path, the scandals, the rumours, the lack of formality of his profession. some footballer, like he was playing a child’s game.

rafe kept his jaw wired shut, opening it only to force ward’s food down his throat, clogging the words threatening to come up and encourage his daughter to eat her food too. your hand occasionally brushed against his like a silent reassurance, and your face didn’t betray the hurt you felt on rafe’s behalf.

but then rafe’s time had run out, like a bomb on the verge of an explosion.

“and, no offence to you y/n, you seem lovely, but i always hoped rafe would find someone who wouldn’t give up so easily on their academics, because you had such a promising future, only to waste–“

rafe’s hand slams down onto the table, palm connecting with oak, and sending food and forks quivering away from him. “i’ll tolerate any of that bullshit you feed yourself ‘bout me, but don’t you ever, fucking dare to say a word against my wife,” he seethes, causing even you to look up him with fractionally wider eyes. ward even gapes up at him, the face of a man who seems to have forgotten that his son is not weak, and will not fall under his thumb.

not dignifying ward with a response, rafe gets up from his chair, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him while he scoops your daughter up and you’re left to hastily call your son to follow. he slams the door behind him, slams the car doors too, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel agitatedly the whole drive home.

your son plops himself onto the couch when you get home, and rafe settles your daughter next to him before bounding up the stairs. not hesitating to follow, you close the door behind you softly when you notice him escape into your bedroom. “rafe…?” you ask tentatively, approaching him as he lays on the bed, hands covering his face. “rafe, what are you doing?” you chuckle at his state, climbing onto the bed while his hands drag down to find your hips and guide you on top of his lap.

“i’m an idiot; i never should’ve agreed to bringin’ us there, i should’ve known what would’ve happened,” he groans, eyes squeezed shut before he relaxes them to look at you.

“no no, i wanted to go—“

“yeah but sweetheart, you’re trustful, i shoulda warned ya better,” he shakes his head, pulling you down from your hips to lay in bed next to him, wrapping you into his chest. “do you think..that i made you waste your talents? in school? you were pretty fuckin’ clever, d’you give that up for me?” he asks in the short silence, voice consumed by a guilt that’s always lingered over the years, only brought to life now.

your brows pinch together, turning your head to face his side profile, the creases by his eye and on his forehead. “no..no. i don’t think so, i still finished my degree, and i know you’d support me if i wanted to get a job, do something with it. but i am doing what i want, i gave up nothing, i have everything in this family.”

he rolls his head over to face yours, scanning your eyes for genuineness before he smiles softly. “you sure?”

“i’m sure.”

he gives a barely-there nod, leaning closer to press a kiss to your forehead. “i love you, and we’re never gonna see that fucker again.”

taglist : @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616 @csturnioloswifey @silkylovey @mak1777 @rafesapple @octoberbxbyy

[jjsmaybank20]

an inch away (from more than just friends)

Alexia Putellas x Fem!Reader

Summary: 4 times you and Alexia almost kissed and the one time you did

Warnings: literally nothing, this is just fluff

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: This took me forever, but I'm actually really proud of it! I kind of hate the ending, but its whatever. I hope you guys like it! This is set during the 2023-2024 season.

navigation  woso masterlist

---

When you first moved to Barcelona to play for their home team, you didn’t know a lick of Spanish outside of the basics. The beautiful yet overwhelming city that you called your new home paired with the obvious language barrier caused you to feel a bit unmoored and alienated, as if you had entered a whole new world.

The team had been nothing but welcoming, each player making a clear effort to befriend and get to know you. Their warmth and easy affection left you reeling a bit, not used to that type of environment, as your old team had been the complete opposite. The person that shocked you the most with her open friendliness was la Reina herself, Alexia Putellas.  

At your first few training sessions, she went out of her way to pair up with you so that she could help with translating the coaches as they yell out instructions in rapid-fire Spanish. The two of you would talk tactics, spot each other in the gym, even assist each other with taping ankles and knees. 

Alexia quickly became your closest friend in Spain, even in your short time with the superteam. 

---

1.

You couldn’t help but smile at the endearingly awkward Barcelona captain in front of you as she enthusiastically describes a new café that she had gone to, stumbling over some of her words as she talks faster than she can mentally translate at times. 

“That sounds really good, Ale,” you smile at her, earning a grin in return. You can see her thinking something over for a minute, and you patiently wait for her to speak as you pack up your bag, ready to go home after training.

Finally she asks, “Would you like to…ah…acompáñame?” 

You take a second to translate, before clarifying, “Go with you?” She nods. “Yeah, for sure! Just text me when you’re free.” You watch as she hesitates again, fidgeting with her bag handle nervously.

“I was thinking… ¿nos vamos ahora?” Your eyes widen, clearly showing your surprise. Alexia refuses to make eye contact with you, but you duck your head down until your eyes finally meet.

“I would love to.” Now it’s Alexia’s turn to show her surprise, but her shock quickly morphs into adorable excitement. Adorable? Where did that come from? You shake the thought away before easily matching Alexia’s wide grin. 

---

The two of you agreed to drive separately and meet at the café. You spent the quick car ride there trying to no avail to tamp down your giddiness. While the two of you had become good friends, not much time had been spent together outside of team events. In fact, you don’t think that you had ever hung out with Alexia one-on-one. That thought brings the joyous smile back to your face.

Once you had parked and walked to the address Alexia had sent you, it wasn’t hard to spot the Barça captain, staring ahead with an intense look on her face. As soon as she spots you, her features instantly relax and light up. 

She stands up and meets you at the front of the café, pulling you into a hug even though she had seen you just minutes earlier. When she pulls back she doesn’t fully let you go, using her arm still around you to guide the two of you into the line to order.

You decide what to order, then you turn to Alexia. “What are you going to get?” 

She points it out on the menu for you just as you get to the front of the line. Alexia gestures for you to go, prompting you to recite your orders to the barista in broken Spanish. “Yo tendré la… Choco-Bombón y un croissant, y ella… tendrá la… Capuchino Especial.” You finish with a pleased smile on your lips.

The barista nods, tapping at the screen in front of her. “Su total es de 7.87 euros.” You nod, fishing out your wallet. Confused, Alexia stops you before you can pay for her drink as well. 

“What are you doing? I pay for mine,” she inquires. You easily wave off her protests, passing the correct amount of money over the counter and accepting the change. She gives you a grateful smile, and the two of you walk towards a table, taking a seat until your order is ready.

---

You talk for hours, enjoying each other’s company and the good food and drink. Finally, you realize just how late it’s gotten. You and Alexia pack up your things and you walk her to her car. Before she gets in, she begins to lean towards you. You turn your head slightly in confusion, causing her lips that were aiming for your cheek to fall dangerously close to the corner of your mouth.

A furious blush appears on your face, and you think you see a matching one on Alexia as she just smiles at you before climbing into her car. 

As you watch her drive away, you can’t help but touch your face in the spot where her soft lips had met your skin. Holy shit.

---

2.

After your coffee date, you and Alexia started to hang out together all the time. That experience kicked your friendship into another gear, and it quickly became extremely common for your teammates to find one of you at the others’ house, and both of you had a key to the other’s home. 

Many times after practice the two of you would go back to your place, order in some food, and watch a movie or play some video games. Well, more like you absolutely demolishing Alexia at FIFA and trying to ignore how fluttery your chest gets when she pouts after losing. 

It was incredibly easy to fall into a pattern with Alexia, the Barcelona captain filling your days with warmth and laughter. You recognized the joy your friendship brought you and tried to show your appreciation for Alexia whenever you can, and clearly the brunette feels the same way. 

Which is why you are so confused when you are met with the sight of Alexia desperately trying to air out your kitchen which has filled with smoke as you enter your house, having left earlier for a meeting. The woman clearly hasn’t noticed that you have arrived home yet, and you can hear her cursing up a storm in Spanish as she desperately waves her arms, trying to somehow push all of the smoke out of your now-open window.

“Are you trying to burn my house down?” You ask, mild amusement mixing with the concern you are feeling. Alexia startles, and you can’t help but laugh out loud as she whips around, eyes as wide as saucers.

“Cariño! When did you… for how long…” Alexia stumbles over her words, but you don’t notice as you try to ignore how her pet name made you feel. You snap out of your daze as she comes towards you, now with a clearly guilty look on her face. “I am sorry. I just wanted to… cook para ti. To thank you for when you cook for me.”

You giggle at the scolded-toddler look that the woman has on her face, but stop quickly as she pouts even harder. You pull her towards you, wrapping your arms around her in a hug that she easily sinks into. “It’s alright, Ale. You don’t have to make it up to me, I love to do things for you.” A sly grin develops on your face. “Plus, not all of us can be master chefs.” The Spanish woman grumbles against your chest, but you can feel a slight smile pressed into your chest.

After a minute, Alexia pulls back and tilts her head up slightly so that she can look you in the eyes, still having a slight frown on her face. As you look down at her, you are suddenly filled with the overwhelming urge to kiss the pout right off of her lips. 

You almost give into the urge right then and there, and you think that with the way Alexia is looking at you she would maybe not be opposed to it, but then you smell yet another burning smell. The moment is broken, and as you scramble into your kitchen, you miss the flash of disappointment in Alexia’s eyes.

“Alexia Putellas! You left the fucking oven on!” 

---

3.

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Alexia since the two of you had shared that moment filled with definitely-not-friendly tension. Well, at least you thought so on your side. You weren’t sure if Alexia was reciprocating your vibes, so you had not made a move out of fear of it ruining your practically perfect friendship with the Spaniard.

The two of you continued to hang out constantly, and as your teammates continued to watch you interact with each other, they clearly began to pick up on your crush on your best friend. 

One day at practice, you and Patri (who you had grown close to as well over your time in Barcelona) were walking out to the pitch together when she stopped suddenly and grabbed your arm. You shot her a confused look, making a move to continue walking. She yanked you back before gesturing for you to bend down slightly so she could speak lower.

“When are you going to make a move on her, chica?”

You gave the shorter woman a bewildered look. “Make a move on who?”

Patri smacks you on the back of the head, causing you to wince and glare at your friend. “Alexia, idiota!”

The midfielder watches as a thousand emotions flash across your face before you finally settle on an expression of forced denial. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Where would you even get that idea?” You scoff unconvincingly. “She doesn’t even feel that way for me,” you mutter under your breath, tone switching from dismissive to almost longing. 

“¡Ustedes dos son tan estúpidas! ¿De verdad no has visto cómo te mira?” Patri watches as you translate in your head before fixing her with a confused stare.

“What do you mean?”

The shorter woman grabs your face in her hands. “She looks at you like you are el sol y las estrellas.” She pats your cheek gently before walking away, leaving you to process everything she had just told you.

--- Later that night, you find yourself thinking about Patri’s words as you clean up from dinner. Her words ring in your ears even louder as you walk into your living room and see the Barcelona captain on your couch, searching for a movie for the two of you to watch.

You can’t help but watch her, your eyes filled with admiration. She seemingly feels your gaze, glancing up and smiling softly at you before refocusing on finding a film. 

As you finally settle in and Alexia turns the movie on, you smile to yourself at the warm weight by your side. Suddenly, your arm is lifted up and Alexia quickly cuddles into your body. You drop your arm around her with a laugh, able to see the smug expression on her face. “Are you comfortable?”

The brunette hums cheekily, before leaning up and pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your face heats up, and suddenly Patri’s words are roaring in your head again. A part of you desperately wants to turn Alexia’s head back towards you and kiss her like you have been wanting to for weeks, maybe even months now. 

But a bigger part of you is too scared to do anything, especially if it means ruining your friendship. So you swallow down your feelings and press a loving kiss to the top of Alexia’s head, beating yourself up inside for being such a coward with your feelings. 

---

4.

You feel nerves taking over your body as you sit in the locker room as you get ready to play in the Champions League final. Alexia makes her way over to you, sitting next to you and easily taking your hand.

She doesn’t even need to speak, her presence so easily bringing you a sense of calmness. She smiles at you, and you suddenly recognize that subtle pain in her eyes, the yearning to be in the starting lineup, to be on the field for the full ninety. You lean against her and squeeze her hand.

“You will play. I know it. And when you go in, you will do what you do best and you will win,” You smile at her, conveying as much of your faith in her as you can in the simple expression. She looks at you, seemingly searching your face for something, and the expression on her face makes your stomach flutter with a fully different kind of nerves. 

You aren’t able to ask her what though, as the team is collected to line up in the entrance tunnel. The two of you share one last look before you separate, and you join your teammates as you get ready to walk out and into the biggest game of your career. 

---

As soon as the whistle blows, you collapse onto the pitch in pure happiness. You did it. Your team won the Champions League, beating Lyon for the first time ever. Around you you can hear your teammates celebrating this massive victory.

Suddenly, you feel someone throw themselves against you. You feel the breath get knocked out of you, but you don’t even care as you embrace Alexia in a tight hug. You can feel her quick breath on your neck, and as you feel your shirt get wet you realize that she is crying. 

You move your mouth right next to her ear, holding her even tighter than before. “Estoy muy orgullosa de ti. Has ido más allá de lo que te dije y no podría estar más orgullosa.” 

You hear her huff out a soft giggle. “Tu español ha mejorado mucho.”

You can’t help but laugh as well, but you stop as she pulls back to look you in the eyes with an intense expression. “I scored… for you.” You don’t know how to respond, and you feel happy tears begin to prick at your eyes. Instead of saying anything, you just pull her back into a hug before you are hoisted up by your teammates and led to the line to receive your medals.

---

You catch Alexia before the team fully enters the locker room, pulling her into your arms. The two of you stand in each other's embrace for a while, allowing yourself to feel all of the emotions coursing through your brains. 

After a bit, you pull back slightly. You look down at the Barcelona captain, suddenly realizing just how close your faces are. As your eyes flit across her face, a rush of affection floods your body. As you watch her, you can see how her eyes settle on your lips and yours finally do the same.

You begin to lean in, and just as your lips almost meet, the locker room door slams open and an already drunk Claudia Pina bursts out in search of Alexia. The two of you jump apart, faces almost as red as the color on your jerseys. 

Patri quickly follows her girlfriend, slightly less intoxicated as she assesses the scene in front of her before apologetically pulling the shorter striker back into the locker room. The two of you quickly follow, still blushing hard and both thinking about what almost just happened.

---

+1.

That night as you celebrate, your almost-kiss with Alexia constantly plays in your head. As the celebrations go on, you seem to be filled with a deep sense of clarity and purpose.

Periodically, you and Alexia would meet eyes across the crowded room, and each time you could feel your urge to get her alone grow stronger. After a while, the normally stiff-in-public captain pulled you onto the dance floor with her. 

Your hands find her hips as hers wrap around your neck, and you dance closer to her than you ever have before. At a certain point, you begin to just sway, not even dancing to the music playing, instead moving to the beat of a song that is only playing for the two of you.

As the celebrations finally begin to wind down, Alexia takes your hand and leads you towards the elevator so that you can make your way up to your shared hotel room. You walk down the hall and open the door, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to you once you see your bed.

You quickly get ready for bed, and as you settle into your bed, you watch Alexia decompress. That same rush of affection that you got earlier courses through you again, and this time you finally think you are ready to do something about it.

“Ale,” you softly call to get the brunette’s attention. You take a deep breath before saying, “I love you.”

Alexia smiles at you, not fully understanding. “Yo también te quiero.”

You push through your nerves, letting all the confidence from today fill your body. “No, Ale, I… Estoy enamorada de ti.” 

You watch the slightly shorter woman’s face carefully as she walks towards you, unable to read her expression. She sits down next to you on the bed, and you push yourself up on the headboard, fidgeting with your hands anxiously. 

You glance down at your lap before well-manicured fingers gently grab your face. You are forced to look Alexia in the eyes, and she softly smiles at you before finally replying, “Yo también.” You don’t even have time to fully process her response before you are pulled into a kiss.

As soon as your lips meet, it is like everything is set right in the world. All thoughts and feelings except for Alexia and your love for her escape you as you wrap your arms around the other woman and pull her even further into you. 

Quickly you discover that Alexia kisses with the same passion that she displays on the football pitch. You match her energy, and the two of you kiss until you have to pull back for a breath. Your forehead rests on hers, and the rise and fall of your breath are in sync. 

“Te he amado en silencio durante mucho tiempo,” Alexia breathes out.

“Me too. But it doesn’t have to be in silence anymore,” You reply, voice dripping with all of your feelings for her. 

In that moment, you realize that you have never loved someone the way that you love Alexia, and you don’t ever want to love anyone else in the same way. You wanted to be with Alexia every day, and hopefully for the rest of your life. 

---

@awfcloml

Join my taglist!

[emeraldserenade]

Joaquin getting baby fever ?

-🐞

Baby Fever ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: You babysit for your sister after getting hit with baby fever, only to accidentally trigger Joaquín's as well

tw: fem!reader, reader has a sister and niece, suggestive (obviously), barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Hi, 🐞!! Joaquín would get hit with baby fever so bad.

➽──────────────❥

It started with a TikTok trend, you saw the "What kind of bed bug is this?" and immediately sent it to your sister. You were hit with baby fever hard and needed your fix, so your sister let you take her daughter for the day while her and her husband went on a day date.

Joaquín came home to you curled up in your bed with your niece fast asleep on your chest. One of her tiny hands clutching your hair and the other clutching your shirt. One of your hands rested on her back while the other was holding your phone. You didn't even notice Joaquín walking in, not until you felt his eyes on you.

The sight of you looking over at him, a bright smile on your face with a baby resting on you changed something in him. "Hi, amor," Joaquín breathed out like he couldn't say the words fast enough.

"Hi, Quino," you put your phone down and held your arm out for him to come join you. Joaquín didn't hesitate before slipping his jacket off and getting into bed with you.

Joaquín curled into your side, his head resting in the space between your neck and shoulder while placing small kisses there. He heard you sigh in contentment while turning your head to kiss his forehead. "How long do we have this little one?" Joaquín questioned, gently brushing one of his fingers down your niece's face.

"Until my sister and her husband are done at the movie theater," you told him, taking a glance at the clock neatly hanging from the wall above the TV. "So about another half hour or so," you added.

"Hm, ok," Joaquín mumbled, his thoughts running faster than his mouth. He imagined you round with your growing child, how he'd help you with anything and everything you wanted. How he'd stand behind you and hold your belly up the farther along you got just so you could have some relief. How, when your baby was born, he would wake up at every feeding even if he couldn't do anything at first before slowly taking them over once the baby started taking bottles. How he'd come home to you two, a smile firmly planted on his face just at the prospect of seeing you two. Maybe having another if you wanted it and/or could handle it. The firsts of everything, the pictures and videos you already send when he's on a mission suddenly having little people who were the perfect mix of the two of you.

"You're thinking quite hard there," you muttered, glancing down at him. "Is something wrong?" You sounded concerned and a little confused.

"Nothing's wrong," he quickly assured you with a kiss pressed to your lips. "Just thinking about our future together," he admitted and you hummed.

"What's it look like?" Joaquín paused at your question, children was something you two had discussed but never fully sat down and talked about. He decided now was as good as time as any, even if you were trapped by a baby, he decided he would leave the room if you wanted space.

"A kid, maybe two, me coming home to you guys with a smile. How I'd do everything in my power to help you any way possible throughout everything," he admitted, his voice soft.

"Sounds perfect," you told him, not even trying to dismiss him, you were just so happy you couldn't form any other words.

"Do you... not like it?" Joaquín paused in the middle of his sentence, and if it weren't for the baby still sleeping soundly on your chest, you'd tell him to put a baby in you right at the moment to ease his fears.

"What? No! I love it, I'm just having trouble putting it into words," you assured him and then you kept talking. "If it weren't for her," you took a glance at your niece, "I'd be telling you that right now is a good as time as any to start on that future." The meaning of your words weren't lost on Joaquín and he was slowly sitting up.

"So as soon as you sister gets back and takes her," he also glanced at the baby, "you'll let me put a baby in you?"

"Yes, as soon as she's gone, we will try," you affirmed, kissing him as he leaned back down.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[patchwork-crow-writes]

I was discussing the new Deltarune chapters with a friend yesterday, and in the wake of Chapter 4 and some of the foreshadowing surrounding Asgore, something struck us about him.

Asgore comes across as a goof, a complete wreck of a man who gives away his flowers instead of selling them, to the point where the Mayor Carol is apparently threatening to kick him out. His constant attempts to woo his former wife Toriel are as doomed as they are cringeworthy. He comes across as an all-around loser who can't get his act together, neither for love nor for money, who has to resort to eating free pickles from Sans, the man who we now know is cavorting with Toriel.

...and yet.

Asgore was the chief of police, before he was apparently forced to step down in disgrace (the details of which are unclear to us due to Kris's avoidance of the topic) - this is a role that would require a great deal of competence and expertise, not to mention strength and dedication. It's mentioned that Undyne, his successor, struggles to fill his boots in the position, which suggests that he was respected in his role, and supposedly did a satisfactory job in it.

Now, in Chapter 4, we see Asgore emerge from the bushes after church to try and gift Toriel yet another bouquet. She, of course, beats a hasty retreat, whereupon he gives Kris a single rose (remember this - this will be important later).

Then, at the Holiday Residence, while clambering through the air vents as the SOUL, we can find Asgore in the bathroom, apparently employed by Carol as a housekeeper, at which point he'll talk about settling something "once and for all" and that he's "got to look again". We can find him again in Carol's bedroom, mentioning something about showing Toriel "what really happened" and that she'll "have to believe me" that he was "just trying to protect everyone."

It's clear that Asgore is using his access to the Holiday household in order to find some sort of evidence that will shed light on an unspecified event... which we would assume to be Dess's disappearance, the event that would have seemingly resulted in his dismissal from the force. All of this to say that Asgore is not quite the complete failure of a person he's made out to be in prior chapters - he's looking for something, and he has a plan to set some kind of record straight and make it so that his family can be happy again.

Right, and what does any of this have to do with Kris, exactly? Why is the giving of a single rose to his child significant? Well, the short answer is - I think that Asgore knows, or has figured out, that Kris is being manipulated and coerced by Carol. It's not much of a stretch to assume this - Kris is his child who he loves dearly, enough to bearhug them when we first meet him in Chapter 1, and he could have deduced that something was amiss with them through his skills as a former police chief. But he wouldn't be able to act directly to help them, seeing how Carol has such a tight leash on the both of them. So they'd have to communicate in secret.

In code.

Look again at the screenshot at the top of this post. Look at how Asgore is winking, and how he says "Our secret." We didn't think about it before, because we just assumed Asgore was being his usual hopelessly Divorced self... but stop now and consider how ridiculous this premise is. It's NO secret whatsoever that Asgore gives his flowers away, and many of them to Toriel. On top of that, there's a decent chance he KNOWS she won't even look at them, even if Kris DID give them to her. Because they were never meant for Toriel in the first place.

Asgore is giving flowers to Kris as a coded form of communication - something that I expect he'd have good knowledge of as, again, a former chief of police. And it's not unreasonable, again, to assume that perhaps Kris might have picked up on some of this, growing up with their adoptive father being in the force. And Carol would have great difficulty detecting the code in the first place, because that's just what bumbling old Asgore does - he gives flowers away to EVERYBODY. And even if she thought something was up, surely he's not sending coded messages to everyone in Hometown, right? Of course not - they're chaff, noise to obscure the fact that he is communicating with Kris right under her nose.

We can skip the bouquet in chapter 1, but we cannot skip the rose in chapter 4. Whatever message he meant to impart to Kris, they WILL have picked up on it, and it's something that may become significant in Chapter 5, which is heavily implied to take place in Asgore's flower shop.

Has Asgore had us all fooled this entire time?

[presepohne]

nsfw. john soap mctavish x reader

Johnny has a habit of making you sit on his cock while you both do the most relaxing things ever possible. You both are gonna talk about work? He'll sink his cock in you, all warm and wet always because of his constant intimacy of sneaking kisses, slapping your rear, cupping your cunt while your cook and press kisses along your neck.

It's literally so fucking mundane when you both are together, you both have to keep special attention when someone comes over.

This habit of Johnny, of sinking his cock in you while you babble about your day, frustrated from work, sometimes cry over it while squirming and eventually getting worked up that you start rutting on him.

That's his favourite part.

That's the whole reason he sinks his cock in you and lets your walls clamp them until you're all hot and bothered, arms wrapped around his neck while you coo and whine rolling your hips and slowly riding him. It's the way your walls flutter around him and with each movement your lips part and you let out a pathetic whine that hardens his cock even more, if that is possible.

And eventually, he'll lay back and let you take the lead, his hand wrapped around your jaw as you pant and lick your lips— face leaning towards his for a kiss. He does give you a little peck and takes your lower lips in his mouth, biting on 'em hard making you yelp and whimper, each languid movement now frantic.

He honestly enjoys how you get so frustrated and worked up when he stills your hips and rubs his fingers over your swollen bud, all perked and hard with the blood. It makes him grin, that shit eating smirk that makes you all whiny and pouty as you try to move your hips even more— but he's trying to get you all riled up.

He thrusts up once and that gets an overwhelmed choke from you, trying to grip on his neck and fingers tangled in his dog tags.

God he loves it when he edges you like this, all frustrated and teary eyed.

[lascvitae]

BOUT MINE ✵ LARA RAJ.

❀ ༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ alt. I BET YOU KNOW I

DON’T PLAY ABOUT MINE .ᐟ

ᝰ.ᐟ during katseye’s calvin klein shoot, a guy asks for a photo with you — and lara shuts it down before you can give a proper answer.

ᝰ.ᐟ pairing. lara x 7th member of katseye!reader ᝰ.ᐟ genre. fluff ᝰ.ᐟ warnings/tags. jealous && pouty lara, kissing

ᝰ.ᐟ wc 2.9k

ᝰ.ᐟ katty katseye x calvin klein when... also requested by anon

(🎧) now playing — bout mine by mariah the scientist.

masterlist.

THE AIR IN THE STUDIO IS THICK. you can feel the heat from the lights, hear the buzz of cameras clicking, and someone calling for more gloss. you’re standing in front of a white backdrop in calvin klein briefs and a white tank top, and the hem of the shirt just barely covers anything. it clings to your body like it knows who’s watching.

and you know who’s watching.

lara hasn’t taken her eyes off you once.

she’s off to the side, still in her solo set outfit: jeans and a calvin sports bra with one arm slung over the back of a metal stool. there’s a bottle of water in her hand she hasn’t touched. she’s just sat there the whole time, gaze fixed on you like she’s not in a studio surrounded by stylists, lighting techs, and your bandmates.

you flick your eyes toward her mid pose. she doesn’t flinch or look away. she smirks.

“lift your arms just a little. perfect. chin down, eyes right here.” the photographer says.

you hold the pose and let your mouth fall open just slightly. and still, somewhere behind all of the heat coming down onto you, you can feel lara’s stare dragging down your legs.

it’s not the first time she’s seen you in this outfit, but it’s the first time anyone else has.

you’re toweling off sweat and oil near the monitor when someone taps your shoulder.

“hey.” he says while grinning. it’s one of the male models from the joint campaign. you’ve spoken, like, twice.

“you killed it. wanna get a shot together?” he adds.

you raise an eyebrow. “a photo?”

“yeah. just us. for the campaign. you looked… insane.” he glances down your body slowly, running a hand through his hair afterwards.

then he laughs like it’s a compliment. like lara isn’t standing ten feet away.

you glance down at yourself — tank still sticking to every curve, briefs showing just enough — then back up at him.

“insane, huh?”

he smiles again. “yeah. you’ve got good chemistry. we’d kill a frame.”

your lips twitch. you’re two seconds from saying something unserious — maybe “you couldn’t handle it” — when a voice cuts in coming from just behind him.

“she said no.”

he turns slightly.

lara’s standing now.

she must’ve moved while he was talking, because she’s right there, still in her calvin sports bra and jeans, arms crossed under her chest, not smiling. her eyes flick from his face to yours and back, slow and sharp, and her expression is unreadable.

the kind of unreadable that makes people nervous.

“she didn’t say anything yet.” the model says, trying to keep it light.

“she doesn’t need to.”

he laughs. awkward. “didn’t mean to step on any toes.”

her jaw ticks. “then don’t.”

you press your lips together to hide the smile threatening to break out onto your face. you love this version of her — cool, protective, and intimidating.

the guy mumbles something like “got it” and backs off without another word.

only once he’s fully gone and out of view does lara finally exhale. her arms drop from her chest and she moves toward you with a sigh.

you tilt your head. “you good?”

she frowns at your water bottle. “you let him stand too close.”

you laugh. “you were right there.”

“he was flirting with you.” she says, voice quiet but pouty.

you smile a little. “maybe. you were watching?”

she rolls her eyes. “i always watch.”

you lean closer, hand brushing her wrist. “and?”

lara’s lips purse dramatically. “and he was touching his hair. who even does that?”

you laugh and she frowns even more, bottom lip stuck out just a bit. she shifts her weight like she’s still a little annoyed. it’s like she’s trying to be mad but barely holding the pout back.

“i didn’t like the way he looked at you.”

“i liked the way you looked at me.”

her breath hitches and you squeeze her hand. “cmere.”

she steps closer automatically and you lean in to press a kiss, soft, short, and sweet, right to her mouth.

her eyes flutter closed for just a second.

and when you pull back, her lip gloss is on your mouth and her face is just a little less tense.

“still mad?” you whisper.

lara shrugs, but it’s useless. she’s already leaning into you again.

“you’re so dramatic.” you murmur, tugging her hand.

“he was annoying.”

“you’re jealous.”

“not jealous. i just don’t like sharing.” she says, eyes flicking down your tank top like she’s lying.

you smile wider. “you don’t have to. i’m all yours, remember?”

she hums, lashes fluttering. “say it again.”

you say it softer. “i’m yours.”

she tugs the hem of your tank a little lower, like it suddenly bothers her how much skin is showing. “good. then don’t let anyone else look at you like that.”

and even though it’s barely above a whisper, you feel it all over.

taglist — @saysirhc @m00nqvv @yuyuy90

[sycamore55]

Hiii can you do a Vi x fem!reader where they are in a long distance relationship? I have this idea that reader surprises Vi by coming to her place saying I'm living in this city from now on. Vi cries like a baby and cuddles Reader all night, they watch movies, they cuddle, maybe they'll make out😉

girlllll I love this sm. I gotchu

Home For Good

Vi x fem!reader

synopsis: after you left your hometown years ago, you finally find a way to come back. the best part of returning? seeing your girlfriend, Vi, who stayed back to take care of her siblings. now, after all these years, you could finally see her in person.

contains: fem reader, long distance girlfriends in an established relationship, higschool friends to lovers before events of this story, modern au, 16+ (no 18+ content but some suggestive stuff).

WC: 2.62k

a/n: hello spectacular homo sapiens. responding to this request, for vi and reader in a long distance relationship. lowkey I did not proofread this so yeah....have fun lmao

August

You sighed, putting the phone down away from you on your desk. You knew she was right. It had almost been an entire year since you had been home. Yes, you had been busy. Maybe, you'd been avoiding seeing your family. Just a bit.

But dammit, you missed Vi.

You'd been her girlfriend for almost four years officially. Things between you two had been going for a while longer than that, starting when you were sixteen and in still in high school.

You could still easily remember when you first met; it was both of your first days of high school. You hadn't known anyone, and Vi, besides her brother Claggor, hadn't either. You'd been paired up with her at random for an icebreaker in class, and she'd been your best friend since then.

Once you met her family, it became a running joke that you spent more time at her house than you did at your own. Which may have been true, but it wasn't like you didn't have a good reason for it. Things with your family weren't exactly.....great. But Vi's family?

They were maybe the most warm people you'd ever met.

And they were nothing like your family.

You learned a few months into knowing her that Vi's parents had died when she was a kid. You didn't exactly know what happened, because she didn't talk about it a lot. But she had a father figure of sorts; Vander, who had been her mother's friend when she was still alive. He'd taken care of Vi and Powder ever since their parents death.

She always referred to him as her father, and to Silco, who also helped take care of them, as her uncle. Mylo and Claggor had lost their respective parents too, were her brothers. Blood didn't matter. What brought them together was the bond that they formed through their shared pain.

Vi's sister, Powder, absolutely adored you. You were always kind to her, and Vi swore up and down that the highlight to her day was when she saw you, and got to show you all the gadget's she'd been building. You already knew Claggor from school, as he was in the same grade as you and Vi. You didn't know Mylo, but you got to know him quickly too. He gave you a harder time than the others, but that was just how he was.

Vander loved you just as much, and the door was always open when it came to you. You spent almost all your afternoons and evenings on weeknights, and practically entire weekends, with her and her family.

The first kiss you shared was about a year into knowing her. It was after school, in the art room. The blob of paint that Vi had accidentally smeared on your shirt when it happened was still there to this day. Sometimes, when you were feeling especially lonely or lost without her, you put that shirt on.

You wished things had wrapped up neatly from there, and you had spent the time with her admitting that you were happy and in love. What actually went down was almost two years of a weird, on again-off again, situation where conveniently neither of you had to verbalize how you actually felt.

Flash forward to senior year, and you decided to apply early to college. You found out winter of senior year that you got in. And when Vi found out, she finally worked up the courage to ask you to be her girlfriend. And of course, you said yes immediately.

You spent eight happy months together as a couple before you left for college. Vi was taking some classes at a local school, but she felt too much responsibility for her family to leave Zaun. Instead, she spent her free time working with Vander at the bar he ran, the Last Drop.

You used to come back to visit for every single break and long weekend you got. But as you got further along, and found a regular, stable job at a local diner, you had less and less time. You hadn't seen Vi in almost a year now.

You really wanted to. Of course you did. But you had to think about your future now, about getting into a career that would give you a comfortable life.

And although you hadn't told her yet, you wanted more than anything to share that future with Vi.

October

The last semester had been hell.

After you had talked to Vi in August, before the semester started, you thought for a while about what you should do next. Your solution?

Overload your credits and courses to graduate a semester early.

Was it practical? No.

Were you functioning? Barely.

Would it be worth it? Absolutely.

So in a couple months, you would be headed home for good this time. The other part of your decision was that you had found an opportunity for a job somewhat close to an apartment, that was five blocks from the Last Drop.

Needless to say, it had been a week since you'd slept more than four hours. You were barely awake and functioning as is. But with most of the planning out of the way, you just had to focus on finishing up your classes before you left.

Now, it was waiting that was the hard part. That, and fighting the urge to just blurt out your whole plan to Vi. You wanted to make it a surprise for her. You knew she could definitely use it.

Vi had a tendency to push herself far past her limits, and put on a brave face for everything. That, or she'd punch her way through her emotions until she could function again.

She'd basically lived in her boxing gloves, besides the punching bag settled in the corner of her bedroom during the rougher moments in life. You understood it. And you'd promised to never judge her for it. But you always worried whenever it got harder to get her to talk with you about her emotions.

November

The last exams that you'd be taking before graduation were approaching. And boy were you feeling the pressure.

The hours upon hours of studying would all pay off once you could graduate, and finally go back home. You honestly hadn't even known if you would want to spend your life in the same town you grew up in.

When you and Vi were still teenagers, you'd spend hours sitting on the roof of the Last Drop, talking about what the future might have in store for both of you.

During the two years where what you and Vi were had been unclear at best, you spent even more time there. That rooftop had been witness to many romantic moments, stolen kisses, fights, and reconciliations.

Vi told you all about her dreams. She also told you about her burdens, and how responsible she felt for her siblings. Her dad had always expected her to be responsible, and for all the good that he had done for her, he had instilled the idea that what happened to her siblings was her responsibility.

You always reminded her that being the oldest daughter didn't mean she had to take care of everyone else. Some days it got through to her. Some days, there was no changing her mind.

She was so stubborn. Always had been. But there was an element to that, which made her impossible not to fall in love with.

God, you were so in love with her that it physically hurt to be separated. All you wanted right now was to hug and kiss her until you were both out of breath.....and maybe do some other things too.

But it'd have to wait until December, when you finished your exams. Then, you could finally go to really, truly be with her.

December

The plan was set.

With Powder's help, you had got everything in place. She would get Vander, Mylo, Claggor, Vander, and Silco all together for dinner with Vi. She said her boyfriend Ekko was also coming, and that they were the only ones in on it.

You had taken your final exam that morning. Assuming everything went well, which you were fairly confident it had, you would be all set to make the big move back home.

Your new apartment was waiting, so once you got there, you'd drop your stuff (and hopefully get a quick shower and change of clothes) before you went over to the Last Drop.

The flight went quickly. So did the taxi ride to your new apartment. You got an hour to yourself to get your stuff inside and get somewhat set up. You didn't have any furniture yet, but you had a feeling you'd be spending the night at Vi's anyways.

You got a quick shower and changed into an outfit that you had picked especially for this night. You redid your hair and makeup, putting some extra finishing touches on the look.

And then you were off.

About five minutes before you got to the Last Drop, Powder called you to let you know that everyone was sitting at a table in the back, so to sneak up on the table, you should take go in the front and then go around the bar counter.

The door creaked exactly the way you'd remember it as you pushed it open. In what had almost been two years, the bar had hardly changed. You immediately spotted Powder sitting by Ekko at a table in the back, like she had said. Her face lit up when she saw you, but she quickly pulled it into a neutral expression, focusing back on the conversation at the table.

You saw Vander and Silco sitting at either end of the table. Mylo and Claggor's heads were turned away from you, but you recognized them by their hair. Sitting beside them was Vi.

Your heart fluttered in your chest when you saw her. Her hair had grown out, and you could see the new tattoo that she'd sent you a photo of peeking out from behind her hoodie.

Jesus, you forgot how much you missed her.

As you approached the table, you caught Vander's gaze for a second. You quickly pressed your finger to your lips, and he nodded slightly, giving you a knowing smile. The closer you got, the more of the conversation you could pick up on.

"I told you, it wasn't me that time1" Powder protested.

"Riiiight. Of course it wasn't," Mylo argued back.

"It was both of you. Now can we be done with this please?" Claggor sighed.

"He's right. Besides, this was years ago," Vander said firmly.

"What makes you think that would make them let it go?" Silco chuckled.

"Yeah, we all know they're not going to," Vi laughed.

"Definitely not," you finally interjected. Powder, Vander, Silco and Ekko smiled as Vi whirled around, her jaw practically dropping when she saw you.

"Hey, Vi," you smiled. Mylo and Claggor looked back, their faces lighting up as they saw you.

"Holy shit," she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand. You laughed softly, covering your own mouth, and your wide smile. She quickly stood up, and you opened your arms to her as she practically tackled you in a hug.

She wrapped her arms around your waist tightly, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. You wrapped your arms around her neck, hugging her back just as tightly. You'd almost forgot how fantastic it felt to hold her. And now that you were there again, holding her, you thought that you never wanted to let go.

"You're really here," she murmured into your shoulder.

"Surprise," you whispered back. She pulled back slightly to look you in the eyes as she loosened her hold, setting you back down.

"How long- when did you- god, I have so many questions," she chuckled, the relief in her voice clear.

"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to make it a surprise for you," you replied.

"It was making me anxious- and it wasn't even my surprise," Powder's voice came from behind the two of you. You gave her a quick hug, and a smile.

"Thanks for helping me make it work," you told her.

"Wait, you were in on it?" Vi asked, her eyes widening slightly.

"Yeah..." she admitted. "And Ekko. But only because I had to tell someone, or I'd go crazy."

"Well, it's a pretty good surprise," Vi said. You smiled back at her as the rest of the family stood up to greet you. When you finally sat down beside her, you squeezed her hand under the table.

Vander had made dinner for everybody, and when your stomach grumbled (at an embarrassingly loud volume), you realized just how hungry you were. Dinner was delicious. You held Vi's hand the entire time, as you talked with her, and caught up with the rest of her family as well.

When you were done, Vi told Vander that the two of you wanted to spend some time by yourselves. Despite the immediate teasing from....pretty much everyone, Vander agreed that it would be good for the two of you to have some time for yourselves. So you finished up quickly, before heading back to her bedroom.

---

The second the two of you were alone, her lips were on yours in an instant.

Her hands travelled down your body, as if she was re-committing every part of your body to her memory. She slammed the door behind the two of you, immediately gripping your thighs to pick you up. You quickly wrapped your legs around her waist, and the both of you toppled onto the bed.

Her lips moved against yours feverishly, like she was breathing air for the first time in years. Your hands moved into her hair, and she groaned into the kiss.

When the kiss finally broke, both of you were breathing heavily. She placed her hands by your shoulders, hovering over you.

"I was kinda planning to crash here tonight," you said, looking up at her.

"I'd be kind of offended if you didn't, honestly," she replied, smirking down at you.

"That might involve me borrowing pretty much everything."

"Well, it's a good thing I still have that hoodie you like then." She sat down on her bed, leaning backwards slightly. "It's hanging up in the bathroom if you want."

"I'm definitely taking you up on that." Vi rolled of you and sat up, as you pushed off the bed and went to grab the hoodie from off the hook, pulling it over your shoulders. Vi watched carefully as the sweatshirt fell over your body, and you shook your hair out of it.

"I almost forgot how much I like seeing you in my clothes," Vi grinned at you.

"Well, I almost forgot how much I like wearing them." You slowly made your way back over to Vi's bed. Vi patted her thigh, smirking as you crawled onto her lap, straddling her.

"I have another surprise for you," you murmured to her.

"Mhm? What's that?" she asked, her hands moving down her sides.

And so you told her all of it. About graduating early, the job you had found nearby, and most of all, the apartment nearby.

"So, what do you think?" you asked her, with a tinge of nervousness in your voice. Suddenly, she flipped you over on the bed, pinning your wrists in one hand.

"I think you're perfect," she murmured, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

"I missed you so much," you murmured to her. She smirked down at you.

"Baby, I'm gonna show you just how much I missed you."

---

end note: tysm @llllzn9090 for requesting this! I'm still accepting reqs so if you have one, drop it! ILY

[shosweet]

toru baby: you hate me

you look at the screen then upwards to a hidden camera — is this a prank??

???

toru baby: why aren’t you back yet

i just got there???

toru baby: so u don’t love me anymore

you had to put down the phone. what in the world is this boy talking about, you thought to yourself.

your friends, already seated at the table, noticed you and started calling you over. putting your phone in your pocket, you walked over to them, greeting them with open arms and wide smiles.

now sitting down, you feel your phone vibrate like crazy.

toru baby: come back COME BACK WHERE DID YOU GO PLEASE THIS IS THE END OF ME YOU HATE ME YOU HATE ME

oh. my. goodness.

i’m going to block you

toru baby: NONONONO NO PLEASE

you crane your head up at one of your friends calling your name, asking how you’ve been.

toru baby: fine just LEAVE me ig…

you sigh as you put your phone on do not disturb (as if that’d do anything), put it in your purse, and carry on with your dinner plans.

“ ‘toru?” you call out. all the lights were turned off, but the tv in the living room was still on. walking closer, you see those familiar, messy, white strands falling onto the couch.

leaning over the armrest, you see your boyfriend having a quiet tantrum — pouting, brows furrowed, arms crossed.

“you hate me,” he grumbles. you smile and sit next to him, cupping his cheek as you kiss the other.

“no i don’t,” you respond, satoru’s face still not budging.

“you do,” he persisted, eyes glued to the screen in front of him. you kept kissing his face, trying to get him to reveal his true colors.

“dooon’ttttt,” you sang. he fought the smile creeping on his face. once you saw his lips twitching, you took that opportunity and smushed your face into his cheek, a loud “muuuuuuuah!” staining it a glossy, rose color.

he finally gives in, smiling and pulling you into his body as he fell onto the couch. he pampered your face with kisses, letting out what he held in. after a good minute of laying there together, you sighed and sat up.

“i’m gonna get ready for bed, ‘kay?”

his heart broke, utterly shattered by your words. he groaned like he was shot in the chest, cried like some older kid bullied him on the playground.

“just tell me to die while you’re at it!” he wailed.

“you can come with me if you want, y’know,” you said, rolling your eyes as you pushed yourself off the couch.

“no,” he deadpanned, too distraught to even look at you.

“baby…”

“no.”

“ ‘toru—”

“okay fine if you insist!” he sprung up from the couch, a complete 180 as he turns off the tv. you gave him the dirtiest look as he waits like a dog by the door just before a walk.

“you love me,” he smirks, getting so close to your face your noses touch. you only sigh and playfully push his face away.

“unfortunately, i do.”

[gojoidyll]

no good until it is

retired!tf141 x injured!reader

due to your head injury that you received from getting shot in the head during a terrorist attack (you were at the wrong place at the wrong time), you were sent to the country side in hopes of a peaceful recovery.

“The country would do you some good.”

You hated those words, and you hated that it came from your own family, your own friends, your own coworkers as they bid you farewell at your “we have to let you go” party. Six months ago, you got shot in the head during a terrorist attack. How you survived was a wonder in and off itself, and, of course, with survival came drawbacks. One of the main side effects being cognitive. Your doctors telling you that it will be a decline from here on out. That you’ll experience problems with stringing words together and saying them, how you’ll start to forget things and probably never be able to remember them, how you’ll have trouble learning new things, making decisions, paying attention. How you’ll have trouble in social situations too. Your doctor told you that there will be pain, there will be headaches, that you may get seizures – and life .. just wasn’t the same the moment you left the hospital.

But you wanted to try.

You wanted to get back to work only to find that you were slow, your brain couldn’t keep up – no … maybe your body couldn’t keep up? You weren’t sure. Your family noticed, your friends noticed, your coworkers noticed.

You weren’t the same anymore.

And the bustling city wasn’t helping you. Despite being in your early twenties, it was like your life took an abrupt stop just as that bullet did inside your head. So, your family proposed a solution. A new environment.

Everyone seemed to be in agreement even though you didn’t want to give up the life you already had. But it was no use, not when you had trouble voicing what you really wanted to say. Which was how you found yourself at a new house in the countryside. Due to your “disability” that you had now, you had a check come in every month, not to mention that your parents bought and paid for this house just for you and your recovery. (Furthermore, due to your injury being related to a terrorist attack, your country was more than happy to make sure you were well taken care of along with any other survivors.)

While moving in, you didn’t know how lonely it would be, and you certainly didn’t expect to be left alone at this house. You family and friends promised to visit you when they were free, but you finally understood after the first week went by in solitude.

They still had lives to get back to in the city while yours stopped the moment a gun barrel was pressed the back of your head.

And true to their word, the people you knew and loved visited when they could, but gradually the visits would be less and less and less. Until it would only be your parents that would stop by every three weeks or so.

Knock knock knock

Getting off your sofa and hugging your blanket close to yourself, you opened the door and smiled a little.

“Good morning, y/n!”

You nodded to the lady, her name was Adeline, a realtor and the person who sold this place to your parents.

“What brings you here?”

Despite your injury, you still managed to say sentences and questions that were easy to say, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to engage in a conversation like you used to. Not anymore. Not unless some doctor or physician actually wanted to put in the time to help you regain your speech to how it once was again. But doctors have better things to do. The bullet is out of your head, their job is done. And your monthly check wouldn’t cover another doctor to waste their time in talking with you every single day just so you could talk normally again. Your friends and family, frankly, don’t have that time either.

“I just wanted to let you know that you got new neighbors yesterday! And they just finished moving in and signing the documents an hour ago.”

You scrunched your nose. Due to this place being the countryside, your neighbors were … lacking. As in there weren’t many people around to begin with. The closest house that was for sale was the one a mile or two away, the house as clear as day in the field. You didn’t realize that it was for sale or that someone hadn’t been living in it until today.

“Neighbors? Like a family?”

You hated how long it took you to say those words. Like there was cotton in your mouth and your brain was lagging on a disconnected internet line.

Adeline, at least, never made you feel inferior, and kept on.

“No, no, from what I gathered they are a team from the military – discharged together and staying together,” she piped up, “I asked them and they said that times were tough and they found that it would be easier to just get a place together and look out for each other. Like what friends do when they get apartments together or small houses.”

“So they are all retired?”

She didn’t seem to mind how slow your questions were, you liked how understanding she was.

“Yep! Oh, but don’t worry, they are all nice. And don’t worry, even though I mentioned that you lived here I didn’t, well, you know, tell them about …,” she gestured to your head and where you head been shot.

You smiled a little at that, “thanks.”

“Of course, anyway, I better get going. I have another house to sell and it’s a three hour drive from here, so I’ll see you around, ok?”

You nodded as she gave you a hug.

“And before I forget, they said to tell you that they plan on introducing themselves, so don’t be surprised when you see four men at your doorstep.”

You nodded again as she let you go from her embrace, waved to you one last time, before heading out the door.

You glanced towards the clock. It was still early morning. If they were already moved in, then you were quite impressed. They were way faster than you at least. You tossed the blanket towards your couch and went to go get changed into some jeans and plain t-shirt along with a sun hat.

Since coming to this place, you have tried a lot of different things to keep you occupied. One of those things was gardening. Stuffing your feet into your slightly worn sneakers and opened the door again to head straight for your garden set up front in a nice patchy set of soil.

In the distance, you could see the house and four silhouettes moving about. Your neighbors, you presumed. Shrugging, to yourself, you went to your garden. It was small, but you were proud of it. You weren’t confident in growing vegetables, so you took to flowers instead, and today you were looking to plant some sun flowers. You never seen any in person before, so you decided to might as well try your luck with growing your own.

Besides, work like this helped with your headaches and kept your mind from thinking to much. Your doctor saying that the repetitive action helping you recover some mental stability and cognitive function. It may not have been the work you were used to back in the prestige office you worked at, but it was work and it made you feel useful even if you were only doing for yourself.

And it wasn’t until you heard someone clear their throat behind you that you realized you lost track of time, an occurrence that started rather recently, much to your dismay. Wiping the dirt off your pant leg, you turned to see your neighbors. You didn’t think all four of them would come greet you and it did unsettle you slightly with how quietly they moved.

Even with your head injury, you still had a sense of your surroundings even when you lost track of time… then again, Adeline mentioned how they were military, so them moving quietly shouldn’t be surprising…

“Hello, love, m’ name’s John,” he held out his hand to you, “we’re your new neighbors over in that house that way.”

You hated how slow you were in taking his hand and hated how even slower you were when shaking it. It was like your mind was trying to keep up, then again maybe your mind was just used to Adeline… maybe you weren’t making progress in your recovery after all if you were this slow to begin with.

“Y/n…,” you managed to say, “sorry if I seem slow to you,” you decided to just get out and say it. You would much rather these strangers know then form their own speculations. It just made things easier, “I was shot in the head.”

You let go of his hand then, “and no. I’m not joking.”

And instead of deafening silence or quick apologies or even the slightest bit of sympathy, someone else took your hand and shook, “shit, for real lass? Did you get it in service?”

You looked up at the man, he had a mohawk which was literally the first thing you noticed about him, “no… there was a terrorist attack. I was taken hostage and when negotiations failed I was shot in the head.”

Someone else took your hand and shook it, he had soft eyes and warm hands. His handshake was gentle too, “would it perhaps be the terrorist attack six months ago?”

You nodded, not at all bothered by their questioning. Because you were used to it. The questions. The prying. But…

Finally the fourth took your hand, “Simon,” he said. He asked no questions which was when John took back over.

“Sorry about that, love, some of us need to learn manners.”

You heard the one with the mohawk scoff making you smile a little, “it’s fine. The questions are normal, but when you all lose interest, the questions stop altogether.”

“Lose interest?”

You shook your head, “it’s nothing. Anyway, it was nice meeting all of you, but I … want to get back to gardening. I hope you all like it here.”

You gave them a slight nod before turning around to tend to your garden again.

The country would do you some good, you thought almost solemnly, when in fact the countryside was just a scapegoat so no one else had to offer to take care of you or just simply be there.

“Sunflowers, aye?”

You startled a bit when a pair of hands were next to your and helping you dig with that tiny shovel, “I’m Johnny by the way.”

“And I’m Kyle, did you grow these by yourself?”

You nodded, “yeah…”

You noticed how Simon was going to grab a water hose and john was grabbing the extra bag of soil that was resting on your front porch.

“What are you all-“

“Just getting to know our neighbor, love.”

You don’t remember ever hearing anything about a neighbor helping plant flowers the first day they meet someone, but you decided to hold your tongue.

Maybe they were just weird.

[lucy-literates]

I got a new ideea !!!! Y/n walks into a coffee shop to buy some things (she just moved in Monaco from another country) and the Leclerc family is there and Pascale looks at her and remembers that when Arthur was 5-6 y old and they went to the Eiffel tour, while they were waiting in line, Artur made friends with a 4-year-old girl (but they never talked after) but everyone says it can’t be so Pascale goes to YN and shows o photo she took with Arthur and YN while yn was kissing Arthur and she recognized it and goes to say hi to “her first boyfriend I could say” and Arthur is all flush and red and ask yn if she wants to go to a party that night.

At the party when Arthur see her, in that tiny and short dress he khow he got to have her so at one point after some drinks he ask yn if he can have his kiss back and they kiss and go to her appartment and while they having sex he whisper dirty things to her and wants to make her cum many times after the first time because she squirts and he says sth like “I just knew you were a squirter” (and she got shy but Arthur doesn’t let her be shy around him)

I was obsessed with the other 2 stories I sent you and you writed my ideas perfectly so i can’t wait to read this story!!!

Love you😍😍

A/N: Holyyyyy this is cute, and HOT. Enjoy!!! Requests are stil opennn :)

First Kiss, Second Chance

You’d only meant to grab a coffee.

You’re still getting used to Monaco — the steep hills, the sea air, the way everyone seems to dress like they’re heading to a yacht party. Your hair’s a bit windblown, your makeup minimal, and you’re in an oversized hoodie and bike shorts, jet-lagged but craving caffeine.

When you step into the café, you don’t expect it to feel so... warm. There’s laughter at one of the corner tables — a close-knit family, clearly. Three men with familiar bone structure and one elegant woman with kind eyes.

It’s the woman who notices you first.

She tilts her head, squinting slightly like she’s trying to remember a dream. Then she whispers something to the young man beside her — tousled brown hair, delicate lips — and his face scrunches in confusion.

You don’t notice them staring. You’re distracted by the pastry case.

But then she approaches you, polite but curious. “Excuse me,” she says softly, in French-accented English. “You must think I’m strange, but… did you ever visit Paris when you were a child?”

You blink. “Um… yeah, once. I think I was four?”

She smiles knowingly. “Did you go to the Eiffel Tower?”

Your breath catches. “Yeah. We waited in line forever. Why?”

She pulls something from her phone. A photo.

A little boy with wild brown hair… and a smaller girl, giving him a messy kiss on the cheek. Both of them grinning, their parents blurred in the background.

You laugh, startled. “Oh my god. That’s me.”

Pascale grins. “That’s my son, Arthur.”

You look past her, locking eyes with him. His face is so red.

You walk over slowly, a teasing smile on your lips. “Hi. I think I was your first girlfriend.”

Arthur swallows. “I—I think you were, yeah.”

He asks you to come to a party that night — nothing huge, just friends and drinks by the water. You say yes before he can even finish asking.

When you arrive, heads turn. Your dress is short, tight, barely there. It’s Monaco. You wanted to fit in. But when Arthur sees you, his jaw nearly hits the floor.

You don’t miss the way his eyes trail up your legs, slow and hungry. The way he can’t stop sipping his drink like it’ll help cool him down.

Later, when the music’s low and the champagne’s fizzing, he leans in close. “You still owe me a kiss.”

You raise a brow. “I gave you one already.”

“I want it back,” he murmurs. “Properly. Now that I’m not six.”

You’re kissing before you can answer, lips crashing together, years of distance evaporating between you. His hands roam down your sides, pulling you flush against him. “Come home with me,” he breathes against your mouth.

You pull back just enough to whisper, “My place is closer.”

The second the door closes, he’s on you.

Clothes scatter. Your dress is on the floor. His fingers are under your panties before you can blink.

“Been thinking about this since I saw you walk in,” he groans, kissing down your chest. “So damn pretty, baby. Couldn’t stop imagining how you’d sound.”

And when he finally slides inside you, slow and deep, he curses against your skin.

You weren’t expecting to come undone so fast — your body tightening, heat coiling, and when it hits, it bursts. Wet and wild. You gasp, your thighs trembling.

Arthur freezes, then pulls back slowly — smirking. “Fuck. You just squirted.”

You cover your face, breathless. “Oh my god—stop, that’s so embarrassing—”

“No, baby,” he says, pulling your hands away, eyes dark. “Don’t hide from me. That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

You bite your lip, still flushed. “I’ve never done that before…”

He kisses your throat. “I just knew you were a squirter. Guess I brought it out of you.”

His voice drops an octave. “Let’s see how many times I can do it.”

Your breath catches.

And he does.

He eats you out, slow and dirty. Fucks you again, harder this time, not stopping until you're soaked and shaking, your moans echoing through the apartment.

“You’re mine now,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear as you fall apart again. “Told you I’d get my kiss back.”

Tag List:

@livelaughleclerc

@alexxavicry

@ariellovelynn

@linnygirl09

@softhyunieeee

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-BLpv0xQYd1bTlaP7l1gAg8AgCyLE_yvrtljpCzlJhY/edit?usp=sharing

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Tw: Implied murder, yandere character, self-esteem issues, delusion

Yandere! best friend who's known you for years, since middle school, really. Moving to a whole new school building was a big adjustment for the both of you, but you had found comfort in each other after being assigned to sit together during one of your classes. It was a friendship built to last, one the two of you would continue to grow and treasure for years to come.

Yandere! Best friend who values your friendship like no other, and you do the same for him. The two of you have always prioritized time together, hanging out or talking whenever you got the chance. Sure, life would get in the way sometimes, it always does, but through all the change growing up brought, the two of you managed to maintain a wonderful relationship.

Yandere! Best friend who’s always been kind and chivalrous to you. He’s a real gentleman, but he’s not weird about it. You can tell he genuinely cares for you as a person, and it brings you all the closer to him.

Yandere! Best friend who’s been there for you since the day you met, always looking after you whenever you needed support. No matter the problem, he’s always there for you, listening and comforting you with a warmth only he can manage.

Yandere! Best friend who's never told you how enthralled he was with you, from the second you entered his life.

Yandere! Best friend who didn’t mean to become obsessed with you. It was just supposed to be a harmless little crush, fading in and out as you both grew older. But instead, he grew more and more obsessed with you, every interaction with you filling his heart with so much desire that he felt he would burst from the pressure. He doesn’t understand it, but he’s far past wanting to fight it. You’re just so…perfect!

Yandere! Best friend who’s spent years trying to get closer to you, soaking in the joy you bring him like a dry sponge. He’s tried to be the perfect friend, always answering your calls, always accepting sporadic hangouts, always showing you the kindness and affection you deserve. He does everything in his power to make sure you’re comfortable while also making you feel adored. He’d do anything for you, a truth anyone who sees the two of you can understand.

Yandere! Best friend who becomes crestfallen every time you refer to him as “just a friend” or “like a brother.” He loves you so much, why can’t you return the love? What is he doing wrong? He treats you so well, he’s your closest confident, so what is he missing?

Yandere! Best friend who cannot for the life of him understand why you don’t see how much he adores you.

Yandere! Best friend who becomes even more destroyed once you enter the dating scene. Of course, he’s be over the moon to date you, but it’s not him you’re with. No, it’s never him. It’s always this person you met on an app or that person you know from somewhere, all sleaze bags, all inevitably breaking your heart. He watches time and time again as you date people who obviously don’t care for you, lending you a shoulder to cry on when they inevitably cheat on or break up with you. He pretends to be devastated for you, but it’s hard to hide the hope in his eyes. He hates to see you hurt, but surely you’ll understand now, right? Surely you’ll see how much better his for you, right?

But no. You never do. The cycle continues, and your best friend is left in the dust, pining desperately after someone who doesn’t love him back.

Yandere! Best friend who doesn’t get it. He can’t get it. He spends hours sorting through everything in his head, trying to figure out where he’s going wrong. What was he doing to make you prefer these other people instead of him? Was he really that unappealing to you? What could he possibly do to make you fall for him the way he fell for you?

And then it hits him. It’s so simple it’s almost laughable: You don’t think you deserve him!

Yandere! Best friend who understands now. It’s all become clear. You haven’t fallen for him because you won’t let yourself fall for him! After years of knowing you, it’s no secret to him that you’ve dealt with some self-esteem issues. Now that he thinks about it, your little insecure spells always happened around the time you found another person to date. Maybe you were only getting with these losers because you’d been brainwashed into thinking that you don’t deserve anything nicer. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself that you could never be loved by someone like him, someone who would give you the world and love you unconditionally.

Yandere! Best friend who couldn’t disagree more with you. It’s ok though, it’s not your fault! Rest assured, he can fix it. And fix it he will.

Starting with the terrible influences in your life.

Yandere! Best friend who becomes a needed comfort in your life when the guy you’ve been messaging suddenly ghosts you out of no where. He tells you you’re not missing out on much, that the guy seemed like a sleaze anyway, but it still hurt to be rejected so cruelly. But after a couple of weeks, the stings disappears, and you find yourself back to your regular state.

Yandere! Best friend who’s there for you when you discover the sudden murder of one of your more…interesting ex’s. Sure the guy had cheated on you, but he didn’t deserve to die, especially not so brutally! If you had stayed, would this had happened?

Yandere! Best friend who makes you feel better about the whole situation, reminding you that it wasn’t your fault and you couldn’t have known the future. Besides, the guy was terrible! Surely you can’t actually feel bad for him, right?

Still it messes with you. And that just isn’t acceptable.

Yandere! Best friend who learns from his mistake. He won’t be so careless again, not when it puts your mental health at risk.

Yandere! Best friend who makes sure you don’t see the missing signs and news reports on his newest victims, ones you’d be all too familiar with. He has to be careful if he doesn’t want to be caught, but it’s much easier for both of you this way. He didn’t like the mess anyway.

Yandere! Best friend who becomes even more involved in your life after that one guy ghosted you, growing touchier and more sappy as each day goes by. You don’t mind, he treats you right, and with all that had been going on, maybe it was best if you took a break from dating. You were happy to settle for just having your best friend by your side, at least for now. You hoped you could find a guy like him to get with one day.

Yandere! Best friend who’s determined to make you his, even more so now than before. He’s so, so close, he can feel it, he just has to get rid of a couple more people. He just has to do a little more work and then you’ll be his! He can guarantee it!

Yandere! Best friend who’s patient. He’s waited this long, he can wait for a couple more months…or weeks…or days, preferably.

He’ll make it happen. It’s just a matter of time.

[eggcats]

Complicated and sad omegaverse RadioStatic.

Vox is an omega that can smell other's scents, but his television head mutes it severely so it needs to be extremely strong for him to realize.

Alastor is an alpha who has been scenting Vox as his to drive off any other alphas since they’ve met. The silly television is his, and once Vox realizes it and asks him then he'll claim him officially. (He doesn’t want to ask himself because he's Alastor, lmao.)

Vox does not realize that Alastor is doing this. At all. He sees every other alpha avoiding him like the plague and thinks it's HIM that's the issue. Cue him never even considering telling Alastor about his feelings, because if even LESSER alphas want nothing to do with him then Alastor would absolutely not. He doesn’t want to ruin what they have with his "silly little feelings."

Bring in a Valentino who sees this silly little omega with some alpha's scent all over him but no official claiming bite. Wouldn't it be fun to take him for himself?

Vox comes home to Alastor one night smelling like Valentino - whether they actually did anything or Val just decided to cause waves by scenting Vox himself, completing covering Alastor's scent, is up to you - and here we have the huge fight that broke them up and made them enemies.

(I'm bad at unhappy endings, so I think Valentino also doesn't claim Vox with a bite because it would "look bad for his image to be tied down like that" (aka he doesn't want a needy omega bothering him at all hours or preventing him from fucking other omegas), and one night while they're drunk Valentino accidentally admits to having stolen Vox from Alastor. And when Vox is like "What are you fucking talking about, I was NEVER Alastor's?" Valentino reveals to him that, up until they got together, Vox had REEKED of Alastor's claiming alpha scent.)

(What Vox does with that information is up to you, but I like to think he shows up at the hotel to yell at Alastor for "never fucking TELLING him he wanted him for himself, you selfish obnoxious radio prick" and then before Alastor can even properly respond to whatever the fuck THAT means Vox like, idk kisses him or something, lol.)

[ellswritings]

You Never Noticed

Emotional cheater!Cody Rhodes/Runnels x reader

TW: Emotional cheating on Cody’s end. Lots of angst. Heartbreak. Use of real names. I know a lot yall wanted another Cody imagine, and I’m sure this isn’t what was wanted, but I’m in a sad mood 🫠.

Tags: @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Being the quarterback of the company wasn’t easy. Cody always wanted to be at the center of it all. To fight for his legacy, his family’s legacy, to show the people he was their champion. He threw himself into his work, never giving up even when things seemed stacked against him.

That’s one of the many things that drew Y/N to him in the first place. They had bumped into each other years before when Y/N herself was a wrestler in the company. However, accidents happen, and when she broke her back after a botched belly to back suplex from Charlotte Flair, returning in-ring became nothing but a fever dream.

Thankfully, she had created a big enough name for herself to be offered the general manager position on SmackDown. It broke her heart to lose what she loved, but she learned to love her new role as well.

But when Cody Runnels came back to the company, that’s when her life changed. It started off slow, but The American Nightmare was quick to charm the normally professional and witty GM.

When they started dating, no one was surprised. In fact, it was almost expected. They never were unprofessional onscreen, but everyone knew how they felt about each other. They were easily the blueprint to a perfect relationship, well, for the first year or so at least.

The cracks started forming a few months ago. It originated with him coming home or back to their shared hotel rooms later than expected. Then it turned into him flaking on plans they had made before shows to go to the arena early. Him choosing to go to the gym alone instead of with her. Forgetting important events that meant something to her. To even avoiding her at work because he was so “busy.”

For a while, Y/N understood. She knew what kind of pressure he was under. She was under it once too. She never took it personally until she heard him walk into their hotel room late one night, clearly on the phone with someone.

His voice was soft, delicate, the one she hadn’t heard in months. The one that used to be reserved for her. His infectious laugh was low and gravelly, no doubt trying to keep his voice down so he wouldn’t wake her. He just didn’t know she never slept until she knew he was back.

At that point, she wished she would have been asleep. Then maybe she wouldn’t have had to deal with that gut wrenching feeling hearing him talk so freely with someone who wasn’t her. Her heart wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. That maybe he was talking to his mom or his sister, the two most important women in his life. But her mind knew better.

He was still there with her physically, but it’s clear his mind was somewhere else. Y/N didn’t know how to approach him anymore. She didn’t know what to say or how to say it so it wouldn’t come off as an accusation. It terrified her to accuse him of something he might not even be doing, but it’s eating her alive not to know if her anxieties are right.

She’s never been one to let her personal life impact her work, but watching the man she gave everything to, gave everything up for, moved to a completely different state away from her family just so they could be together, it messed with her mind. She didn’t trust easily, she never has. But with Cody, it was easy. She let her guard down for him but now it feels like he doesn’t even know her at all.

Or maybe he doesn’t want to. Not anymore.

Y/N ran a hand over her face in frustration as she read over another email from a faceless exec who has never even stepped foot into one of their training centers, telling her that new releases would be coming up soon. This was the one part of the job she hated. She was expected to pull up numbers and hand them over to Paul so the board could decide who they wanted to cut from the company.

Having to look at someone who she’s no doubt known for years and let them know they would be losing their job had to be the hardest thing in the world. And having her internal struggle with Cody only made it that much more stressful.

A knock sounded on her office door, forcing her to look up. “Come in,” she tells whoever is trying to get her attention.

“Hey Y/N,” Andrew Galloway’s Scottish accent filled her office as he slowly opened the door. He popped only his head in, keeping the rest of his body outside as if he was afraid of interrupting her. “Someone said you wanted to see me?”

“Hey Drew,” Y/N smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, come in.” She moves some scattered papers out of the way as the six foot five male enters, shutting the door respectfully behind him. Y/N continues shuffling around. Anyone else would’ve thought it was just her reorganizing, but Drew knew her better than that. He could see something was bothering her. It had started a while back when he first noticed, but Y/N’s always been independent. She doesn’t need or want anyone’s help. However, it still concerned him to see his close friend in such a state.

“I just wanted to call you in here and go over some last minute changes with the script for you and Luis’ segment,” she huffs, finally taking her seat again. Once she meets his eyes though, he can visibly see how tired she is. She may not have any bags under her eyes, but it’s not hard to tell there’s something taking a toll on her.

Drew didn’t look down at the pages.

Not immediately, anyway.

His gaze stayed fixed on her—on the hollow look in her eyes, the tightness in her jaw, the way her knuckles paled from how hard she was gripping the edge of her desk. He couldn’t remember the last time she smiled like she meant it. Not in weeks. Maybe longer.

Y/N tapped her pen twice against the table, the rhythmic click sharp against the low hum of the office lights. “It’s just minor stuff, nothing crazy. I moved you guys a bit earlier so it flows better after the tag match. I’ve already run it by him, and he’s good with it. I just wanted you in the loop.”

She sounded normal—too normal. Polished, professional. Like nothing in the world was wrong. But her voice had that practiced crispness people used when they were hiding behind it.

Drew nodded slowly, still not touching the papers. “Got it.”

She looked back down at the emails in front of her, pretending to scroll, eyes darting too quickly across the screen to be reading. Her leg bounced beneath the desk. The pen clicked again.

He hated seeing her like this. Like she was trying to convince herself she could just power through whatever storm she was drowning in.

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?” he asked, voice softer than usual, cutting through the quiet.

That made her pause. The pen stopped. Her eyes flicked up to him.

She smiled—too fast, too forced. “What? Of course I have. Just a long week. You know how it is before a PLE.”

Drew tilted his head, unimpressed. “You forget how long I’ve known you?”

She laughed, but it was paper-thin. “I’m fine, Drew.”

She wasn’t. Not even close.

Her skin was a shade paler than usual, eyes rimmed faintly in red like she hadn’t cried but had come dangerously close. There was a weariness to her movements, like even reaching for her water bottle took effort.

He let his eyes drift down—nails chewed to the quick, the thin crescent indents in her palms from where she’d clearly been clenching her fists too tight for too long. And that photo frame. The Polaroid. Her and Cody. Still facedown, like she couldn’t bear to look at it anymore.

The most damning thing, though, wasn’t the physical evidence. It was the absence of something she used to carry without even trying: light.

She used to walk into rooms and make people feel like they belonged. She used to throw out quick-witted banter with a glint in her eye and fire in her chest. She used to look at him—Cody—with this soft, unshakeable kind of love that made people jealous.

Now, all anyone saw in her eyes when he was around was quiet disdain.

A cooling resentment. The kind that built slowly, in silence, like snow on a rooftop just waiting to collapse.

And Cody didn’t even seem to notice.

“I know it’s not my business,” Drew said finally, voice firmer now, “but you should know you’re not fooling anybody.”

Y/N’s smile faded, her jaw flexing as she stared at a spot on her desk. “There’s nothing going on,” she murmured. “Really.”

“Bullshite.”

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing in offense—but Drew wasn’t backing down. “You think I don’t see it? You’ve gone quiet, you hardly eat, and you used to look at him like he hung the bloody moon. Now I see you in catering pretending not to notice when he walks in. And when you do look at him, it’s like your chest physically aches.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed, eyes glossy.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice.

“I know you, Y/N. Better than you think. You keep everything bottled in until it eats you alive.” Drew stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Whatever’s going on between you and Cody… don’t let it break you before you’ve had a chance to fight back.”

“I am fighting,” she snapped quietly, voice cracking. “I have been. Every single day. But you can’t fight someone who won’t meet you halfway.”

Silence stretched between them.

Drew’s jaw clenched as he looked down at her—shoulders drawn up like she was holding her world together with both hands, just waiting for one more wrong word to make it all collapse.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he admitted, eyes softening. “You don’t deserve to become a stranger to yourself just because someone else forgot who you are.”

Y/N’s eyes stung. She bit her lip hard enough to leave a mark. “I just want it to go back to the way it was. Before all of this. Before I had to wonder if I was enough.”

“You are enough. Always were.”

She closed her eyes. “Doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

Drew let that sit there for a moment before stepping back, nodding quietly, as if he understood all too well.

“If you ever need someone to remind you who the hell you are, you know where to find me.”

Then, after one last glance at the photo frame, he left.

The second Drew stepped out of Y/N’s office, the door clicking shut behind him, a breath left his chest that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His footsteps echoed faintly down the hall, the weight of everything she didn’t say pressing down harder than the words she had managed to get out.

He had known something was wrong.

But now, he was certain: she was breaking. Quietly. Elegantly. In that terrifying way strong people fall apart—only when no one’s looking.

Drew didn’t go back to the locker room. Didn’t bother with the script changes she’d handed him. He was already moving, heading toward catering where he knew he’d find the one person who could pry open what Y/N kept sealed shut: Jessica Woynilko.

He found her perched at a table, platinum hair swept over one shoulder, AirPods in and phone in hand as she scrolled absently through social media. Her heels were kicked off beneath her chair, a cup of iced coffee melting slowly in front of her.

“Jess.”

She glanced up, brow lifting in surprise as she pulled one earbud out. “Hey. What’s up?”

Drew didn’t waste time. “It’s Y/N.”

That got her attention.

She straightened immediately, her playful ease vanishing in an instant. “What about her?”

“She’s not okay.”

Jessica blinked, slowly setting her phone down, the full weight of his tone sinking in. “What do you mean?”

Drew folded his arms, lowering his voice. “She’s trying to act like everything’s normal, but she’s worn down to the bone. Said she’s sleeping, but her hands are shaking. Said she’s eating, but I doubt she’s had more than coffee all day. That photo of her and Cody’s been facedown for who knows how long.”

Jessica’s expression hardened.

She had been watching it too, from a distance. The way Y/N stopped sitting with them at catering. The way she started staying back in her office between segments. How she laughed less. Smiled less. How her presence had dimmed.

But hearing it confirmed by someone as observant as Drew made it all feel real. Tangible.

“Has he done something?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Drew admitted. “But whatever it is, it’s killing her. She won’t say it, not yet. But you can see it in the way she moves. Like she’s carrying the weight of both of them alone.”

Jessica stood up, already gathering her things. “Where is she now?”

“In her office. But she’s got that look—the one she gets when she’s on the edge but doesn’t want anyone to see it.”

Jessica nodded, jaw set. “Then I won’t let her be alone.”

She slipped her heels back on and tossed her empty coffee into the bin before brushing past Drew.

“Oh, and Jess?”

She turned halfway back.

“If it is Cody, which I’m sure it is,” Drew added, his voice lower now, clipped and tight, “I don’t care how good his intentions were. If he let her get like this without noticing… he doesn’t deserve to be near her.”

Tiffany’s eyes flashed. “He won’t be. Not unless she says he can.”

Then she disappeared down the hallway, leaving Drew standing there, tension still coiled in his chest.

Because if there was one thing more dangerous than a woman hurt—it was the people who loved her stepping in to pick up the pieces.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

The silence in her office had become a living thing.

It breathed alongside her, settled into her bones, wrapped around her like smoke. The faint hum of the computer, the gentle tick of the wall clock—none of it pierced the fog in her mind.

Y/N stared blankly at the monitor in front of her. The email she was meant to be responding to blurred out of focus, the cursor blinking endlessly like a reminder she was still here. Still functioning.

Except she wasn’t. Not really.

Her fingers hovered above the keyboard, unmoving, until her vision glazed. Her gaze dropped to the framed photo still facedown beside her mousepad. She reached for it but stopped halfway, her hand curling into a soft fist instead.

And just like that, she was somewhere else.

The hotel room was dimly lit by the lamp beside the bed, casting long shadows on the carpet. Y/N stood frozen by the sink, toothbrush idle in her hand, her eyes locked on the soft glow of Cody’s phone screen across the room.

She hadn't meant to look.

She wasn’t the type to snoop. She respected privacy—respected him. But she’d heard the soft chime. That familiar vibration against the wood. And when she glanced over, her stomach dropped.

Madeline.

A newer girl on RAW. Bright-eyed. Athletic. Still finding her place. Cody had mentioned her in passing before.

Her message was right there on the lock screen.

"Kinda missed you today. You gonna come say hi before call time tomorrow? You owe me a story from the plane 😘"

Y/N didn’t move for a moment. The emoji. The tone. The casual warmth. It didn’t scream affair, but it whispered something close. Something intimate. Something that used to belong to her.

The bathroom light behind her flicked off with a quiet snap.

“Hey babe,” Cody said as he stepped out, rubbing a towel through his hair, shirtless, relaxed.

She didn’t respond right away.

“Cody,” she said finally, slowly. “Why’s Madeline texting you this late?”

He paused—half a beat too long. She noticed. She always noticed.

He glanced toward the phone, saw the still-lit message, and his jaw tensed before he smoothed it away. “She’s just reaching out as one of the newbies to talk to veterans about ring advice” he said easily, shrugging like it meant nothing. “She’s cool. Young. Ambitious. Reminds me of what it was like to be starting out.”

Y/N turned slightly toward him, voice quiet but steady. “Didn’t seem like she was messaging you for advice. Sounded a little… personal.”

He chuckled. “She’s just friendly.”

“Cody…” Her fingers tightened on the counter edge. “That’s not how it reads. She misses you. Wants stories from the plane. Why is she comfortable texting you like that?”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t raise his voice.

“Because she gets it. She understands what this life is. The pressure. The grind. She’s in it. Every day. She’s on the road. She’s tired and sore and still has to smile through press.”

He stepped closer. “You used to get it, too.”

That cut deeper than anything else. He said it like she’d aged out of relevance. Like her pain, her past, her sacrifice didn’t qualify anymore.

“I do get it,” she said, her voice cracking despite herself. “You think because I wear heels and book segments now that I forgot what it’s like to wake up sore, to miss birthdays, to be exhausted but still go out there and perform?”

He looked at her, jaw flexing. “It’s not the same anymore, Y/N.”

She blinked, as if struck.

“You’re not active,” he continued. “You don’t train the way we do now. You don’t have to get in the ring and cut a promo with jetlag, or eat a clothesline ten minutes after touching down in a new city. You just don’t… live it the way we do anymore.”

We.

Him and Madeline.

Not them—not anymore.

She swallowed, hard, her throat suddenly raw. “So that’s what this is about? You have more in common with her now?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples, already tired of the conversation. “No, it’s not like that. You’re twisting it.”

“I’m not twisting anything. I’m just trying to understand why you don’t look at me like I matter anymore.”

That made him pause. But only briefly.

He reached out, pulled her into a loose embrace, resting his chin on top of her head.

“You do matter,” he murmured, kissing her temple. “You always will. Don’t let your head make up stuff that isn’t real.”

But it was real.

His arms were around her, but his mind was somewhere else. Maybe still in the arena. Maybe still with her. His kiss didn’t linger. His hold didn’t tighten. And when he pulled away, it felt like a relief for him—not her.

She stood in the bathroom doorway after he turned off the light and crawled into bed, feeling hollow.

Because that’s when she knew.

It wasn’t physical.

But she’d already lost him.

He didn’t need to touch Madeline for it to count.

He’d already given her what used to be sacred—his softest voice, his attention, his light.

Back in her office, Y/N blinked hard, pulling herself out of the memory. Her hands were clenched in her lap, nails leaving new crescent shapes in her skin.

She used to wake up every morning excited to see him. To hear his voice. To be in the same room.

Now, when people looked at her, they didn’t see that woman anymore.

They didn’t see the softness, the warmth, the light that used to follow her like a second skin.

They just saw a woman slowly disappearing.

They saw disgust in her eyes when he spoke. And maybe it wasn’t even for him. Maybe it was for herself—for still loving a man who didn’t see her anymore.

And then a knock pulled her violently out of her own head.

“Y/N?” Jessica’s voice.

She took a shaky breath. “Come in.”

The door eased open and Tiffany stepped in quietly, her signature pink heels unusually muted against the floor, as if she was trying not to startle her. Her usual bright energy was toned down, carefully measured.

Y/N didn’t look up at first. She was still staring down at her hands, silently willing herself to get it together before she had to.

“Hey…” Jessica said gently, closing the door behind her.

Y/N’s lips parted, but no sound came out. She cleared her throat quickly and forced her voice to stay even. “Hey. Something wrong with your segment?”

Jessica blinked, then let out a soft, exhale-laugh. “No. Not a thing. Andrew just mentioned you seemed a little… off today, so I figured I’d check in.”

Y/N’s jaw tensed. “Drew’s being dramatic,” she murmured, grabbing a random pen off the desk just to give her hands something to do. “I’m fine. Just a long week.”

Jessica didn’t answer. She just walked slowly toward the desk, those ice-blue eyes taking in every inch of her. The slouched shoulders. The distant gaze. The thin smile that never met her eyes.

“You haven’t been fine in weeks.”

That hit harder than Y/N expected it to. She looked up sharply, but Jessica wasn’t accusing. She was just there. Solid. Soft. Concerned. And it made something ache behind Y/N’s ribs. “I’m just tired,” she tried again, shaking her head, as if the motion alone would convince them both. “It’s a lot of responsibility. It catches up sometimes, that’s all.”

Jessica leaned on the edge of the desk, one hip perched, hands folded neatly in front of her. “That’s not all.”

Y/N felt her throat tighten. Her eyes burned before she could stop them. She blinked quickly, glancing away like the filing cabinet had suddenly become riveting.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” Jessica said without hesitation. “I already know.”

That was the worst part. The knowing. Because she hadn’t told anyone. Hadn’t said Cody’s name in this context out loud, not even once. But it was obvious. It lived in the way she carried herself. The way she didn’t walk the same anymore. How she didn’t crack jokes with the talent as often. How her backstage segments seemed shorter to avoid being out of her office. The way she was going through the motions with every bit of her but her heart.

She used to look at him with so much love, it made other people believe in forever. But not anymore. Things changed between them, and it showed. Not in her words. Not in dramatic gestures. But in the silence. The way her eyes dulled when he walked into the room. The way she always found something else to focus on when he spoke.

“I’m still trying,” Y/N whispered, voice so raw it scraped her throat. “I keep trying. But I feel like I’m screaming underwater, and he doesn’t even notice I’m drowning.”

Jessica reached across the desk and gently took Y/N’s hand in hers.

No big speech. No forced advice. Just steady, grounding warmth.

“If you ever need a break,” she said softly, “you can come stay with me. Doesn’t matter how long. You don’t even have to call. You just show up, and I’ll be there.”

Y/N finally looked at her. Really looked. And in that moment, the tears welled too fast to catch. She blinked again, a single one slipping down her cheek. She didn’t brush it away.

Jessica didn’t mention it. She just squeezed her hand a little tighter.

“Even strong girls deserve to fall apart sometimes,” she said. “Especially the ones who hold everyone else together.”

Y/N nodded once, small and quick. Like if she did it too slow, she might break open. And maybe she will eventually, but at least she has friends like this to be there when she falls.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

The hallway lights felt too bright.

Y/N’s boots echoed down the concrete floor of the backstage corridor, each step measured, precise, like she was holding herself together one click at a time. She’d slipped her headset off in her office, trading it for the persona everyone knew—the unshakable General Manager of SmackDown. The woman who ran the show with clean efficiency and an iron spine.

She could lie with posture. With presence. It was the only thing keeping her upright right now.

Her upcoming segment was just ahead with Solo Sikoa and Jacob Fatu—easy enough. Both men respected her deeply. They were warm, loyal, and more protective than most people gave them credit for. A couple of minutes, smile, play the part. Then she could disappear again.

She turned the corner—

And the world tilted.

There he was. Cody.

Back leaned against one of the gear crates, laughing. That deep, unrestrained laugh that used to be hers. That used to bubble out of him when she’d whisper something ridiculous in his ear during commercial breaks, when she’d tug him closer by his tie in the Gorilla position, when he was still hers.

His voice rang out. Not loud. But clear. Low and soft, like it always was when he wasn’t wearing his performer’s mask. It was the voice she used to hear whispered against her skin. The one he hadn’t used with her in weeks.

And he wasn’t alone.

Madeline. The new blonde who'd been traveling more and more lately. NXT call-up. Young, talented. Had just been transferred to SmackDown from Raw for storyline reasons, a trade Y/N wasn’t too happy about. The one Cody had insisted was "just cool to talk to."

She stood close to him. So close their shoulders nearly touched.

Y/N ducked behind a side curtain instinctively, her chest tightening as she caught their voices.

Madeline laughed first, and it was the kind of laugh meant to be heard. Light, teasing. Intimate. “You always lean in like that when you’re about to say something real, y’know that?”

Cody chuckled under his breath. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Madeline said softly. “It’s endearing.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted. She couldn’t see them from where she stood, but she didn’t need to. She could hear it. That slow-rolling tone in Cody’s voice. The ease. The warmth. The attention.

It used to belong to her.

“How’s your shoulder?” Cody asked her next.

“Better. You were right about that stretch,” Madeline replied. “See? I listen when you give advice.”

There was a pause. “Wish more people did,” he muttered, almost too low to catch.

Madeline stepped in closer; Y/N could hear the shift in her voice. “Is this about Y/N?”

Silence.

Y/N’s hands gripped the clipboard so tight the metal clip dug into her palm.

“She’s just… different lately,” Cody finally said, and his voice carried a weight it hadn’t in weeks. “I don’t think she gets how much pressure I’m under sometimes.”

Madeline gave a breathy hum. “Because she’s not in the ring anymore?”

He didn’t answer at first.

Then: “Exactly. She used to understand. But now it’s like… everything I do is under a microscope. She’s constantly asking if I’m okay, if I’m tired, if I’m ‘still here.’ Like—”

“Like you’re being guilt-tripped for doing your job,” Madeline finished for him.

Y/N’s throat went dry.

“She used to be proud of me,” Cody said. “Now all she sees is what I’m not doing.”

“I see you,” Madeline whispered.

The words cut like glass. Y/N stepped back, breath shuddering in her chest. Her nails bit into the clipboard hard enough to leave crescent marks in the wood. She blinked fast, fighting the sting building in her eyes. She couldn’t cry now. Not here.

She wouldn’t give them that.

Her feet moved before her brain could catch up. One step. Then another. Until she rounded the corner and—

Slammed her shoulder straight into Cody’s.

Harder than necessary.

His eyes snapped up, startled. Madeline’s smile faltered as Y/N brushed past them without a word, her face impassive. Professional. Untouchable.

But inside? Inside, she was screaming.

Y/N swallowed hard, blinking the blur from her vision as she moved through the next hallway like a ghost, her stilettos clicking too loudly over concrete.

The voices behind her faded, replaced by the thrum of adrenaline and lighting cues. Blue strobes flashed from the entrance curtain, her cue. She adjusted the jacket of her fitted navy pantsuit, ran her tongue along her teeth, and bit the inside of her cheek until the sting chased off the ache in her chest.

She was still the SmackDown General Manager. Even if she felt like a stranger in her own body.

“Y/N.”

Solo’s deep voice cut through the noise as she stepped into gorilla. His brow furrowed immediately when he saw her face. Beside him, Jacob Fatu leaned forward from the equipment case he’d been perched on, brows raising in sync.

“You good, sweetheart?” Solo asked lowly, his tone rough around the edges but concerned.

Y/N gave a tight smile. “Fine.”

She always said it the same way. Controlled. Too quick.

Jacob stood, his wide frame casting a shadow over the monitors. “You sure?” he asked, tipping his chin toward her. “’Cause looks like you bouta kill somebody.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated, jaw stiff.

Solo folded his arms across his chest, the Samoan tattoos flexing with the movement. “You don’t look fine.”

Y/N blinked hard, then exhaled through her nose. “I just need to get through this segment. Don’t worry about me.”

Jacob exchanged a glance with his cousin. “Someone botherin’ you?”

She didn’t answer.

Solo leaned in, voice gruff. “Say the word. We’ll handle it.”

Y/N finally turned to them. Her shoulders sank, just a little. It wasn’t a full crack in the armor, but it was something. She gave them a tired, grateful smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I appreciate it. But I can handle myself.”

Jacob muttered something under his breath. She didn’t catch all of it, but she heard enough to know it involved someone getting their jaw rocked.

Solo didn’t speak again. He just stepped slightly in front of her, like a human wall, shielding her from wandering eyes backstage as her music hit and the crowd roared.

She stood behind him in the gorilla position, breathing deep, her hands shaking slightly at her sides.

He used to look at me like that. That’s all she could think. Cody used to look at her the way he looked at Madeline. And now he barely looked at her at all.

The red light above the entrance blinked. They were live.

Y/N plastered on a smile, lifted her chin, and started their segment.

Her heart stayed behind.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Cody’s eyes remained locked on the hallway where Y/N had disappeared. His brow furrowed, arms crossed over his chest like he was trying to hold something together.

Madeline tilted her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lip. “C’mon, it’s not that serious. She barely even touched you.”

Cody shook his head slightly. “It’s just… not like her, that’s all. Normally she would say something.”

“She’s been moody for weeks, Cody,” Madeline said, voice dropping to something sugar-sweet and venom-laced. “Let’s not pretend she’s been this ray of sunshine lately. Maybe if she lightened up a little—”

“She’s under a lot of pressure,” he murmured. “So am I.”

Madeline rolled her eyes. “Exactly. We are. She’s not the only one who’s allowed to be tired. You can’t keep breaking yourself in half for someone who doesn’t even see what you’re giving.” Her eyes rolls as she tries to calm the man, “I mean, I’ll give her her flowers or whatever, she did what she did for the business, but that was years ago. The landscape has changed. She can’t be mad just because she can’t keep up anymore.”

Before Cody could respond, a low voice cut in behind them.

“Oi.”

Cody turned around to see Drew McIntyre heading their way, broad shoulders squared and gait deliberate. He didn’t look pissed exactly, but he sure as hell didn’t look friendly.

“Hey, what’s up, man?” Cody greeted, offering a casual half-smile.

Drew stopped a few feet away, eyes flicking briefly to Madeline before settling on Cody with a weight that could crush stone. “Was just wonderin’,” he said, voice quiet but steady, “how long you’ve been actin’ like a right knob.”

Cody blinked, unsure if he’d heard him right. “What?”

Drew gestured vaguely down the hallway where Y/N had gone. “She just walked past me lookin’ like the world collapsed under her feet. Eyes glassy, like she was hangin’ on by a bloody thread.”

Cody’s smile faded. “I… I don’t know what’s goin’ on with her. She won’t talk to me.”

“Aye,” Drew said with a nod, “and why d’you think that is?”

Cody shrugged, caught off guard. “Drew, I didn’t do anything—”

“Exactly,” Drew cut in, stepping forward. “You didn’t do a damn thing. Not when it mattered.”

Madeline huffed. “Oh for god’s sake—”

“D’you mind?” Drew snapped without even looking at her. “If I wanted the opinion of a homewrecker I’dve asked sweetheart. Though I s’pose desperation has no bounds.”

Madeline took a step back, bristling, but went quiet.

Drew turned his attention back to Cody, voice quieter but somehow heavier. “You know how many times I’ve seen her sat in that office late as hell, starin’ at her phone like she’s waitin’ for it to ring? Seen her fake a smile so no one asks what’s wrong?”

Cody frowned, defensive. “Drew, come on—”

“She used to glow when you were around, mate,” Drew said, jabbing a finger toward him. “Now she walks through this place like a bloody ghost. Doesn’t talk. Doesn’t sleep. Doesn’t breathe right.”

Cody looked away, jaw tightening.

“You think she doesn’t notice you whisperin’ with her all the time?” Drew jerked his chin toward Madeline. “You think she doesn’t see the way you look at her like you used to look at Y/N?”

“That’s not fair,” Cody muttered.

“What’s not fair,” Drew said, stepping in closer now, voice low and firm, “is makin’ a woman like that feel like she’s not enough. What’s not fair is watchin’ her give up everythin’ — her career, her family, her goddamn confidence — just to be with you, and you treat her like a bloody inconvenience.”

Madeline finally found her voice again. “Maybe she should’ve toughened up if she wanted to be with someone in this business.”

Drew’s head turned slowly toward her, and the glare he gave her could’ve frozen a bonfire. “Maybe you should shut your gob before you say somethin’ that gets your ass dropped backstage.”

She blinked, stunned silent.

Then Drew turned back to Cody, shaking his head slowly.

“You were supposed to be the dream, aye? The man with the legacy, the heart, the bloody purpose,” he said. “But lately, you’re just a coward in a nice suit, hidin’ behind excuses and cheap smiles.”

Cody’s voice was tight now. “Drew, this isn’t your business.”

“It became my business the second you broke her,” Drew growled. “And believe me when I say — if we weren’t live right now, I’d have put you through the floor by now.”

Cody stared at him, speechless.

Drew didn’t wait for a response. He turned, but not before delivering one last blow.

“You don’t deserve her,” he said, eyes cold. “You never did.”

And with that, he walked off down the corridor, leaving silence — and guilt — in his wake.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

The Atlanta air hung thick and still, the early evening sun casting a golden haze across the quiet suburban street. The usual hum of the neighborhood felt far away as Y/N stood in the center of the living room she’d once called home — their home.

Cody hadn’t come back since the show wrapped a few hours ago. Jess had known he wouldn’t. That’s why she’d insisted they do it now.

“He’s probably still out with her,” Jessica said softly as she taped the last box shut, her words gentle but edged with protective fire. “Let’s just get your things and go before he gets the chance to stop you.”

Y/N didn’t respond at first. She just stood there, eyes fixed on a framed photo of her and Cody from last year’s WrestleMania afterparty — her sitting on his shoulders in the middle of the ring, champagne in hand, the brightest smile on her face. That version of them felt like a lifetime ago.

“I saw them,” she finally whispered.

Jess paused, eyes flicking toward her. “You mean backstage?”

Y/N gave a small, shaky nod as she wrapped the picture in a towel and placed it in a box, not because she wanted to save it, but because throwing it away felt too heavy in that moment.

“She was leaned in so close,” Y/N said, voice thick with the memory. “Laughing at everything he said. And he let her. He let her be close. He looked… happy. The way he used to look at me when we were just starting out. Before everything.”

Jess moved to her side, gently placing a hand on her back.

“They were talking like they’d known each other forever. I heard her say she gets him — that she understands him. And he didn’t even correct her. Just smiled like she was right.” Her voice broke slightly. “I wanted to scream at him. Remind him that I used to wrestle. That I do get it. But none of it would’ve mattered.”

Y/N looked down, tears brimming in her lashes but not falling yet. “He hasn’t seen me in months, Jess. Not really. He kisses me out of basic relationship expectations. He talks to me like I’m a schedule to manage. I don’t know when I stopped being enough for him.”

Jessica didn’t say anything at first. She just pulled her into a hug, arms strong around her shoulders as Y/N finally let the tears fall.

“You didn’t stop being enough,” she murmured fiercely. “He just stopped seeing the gold in what he had. You deserve more than scraps of love, Y/N. You deserve the whole damn thing.”

Y/N wiped at her cheeks again as she and Jessica carried the last of the boxes out of the house. The sun had nearly dipped below the skyline now, casting long shadows over the driveway of what had once been a home. It felt empty already, even though the walls were still standing.

They reached the cars, and Jess moved to open the back of her SUV when the distant rumble of a truck made Y/N freeze mid-step. Her heart thudded. For a terrifying second, she thought it might be Cody.

But then the familiar black pickup rolled up and came to a gentle stop by the curb.

Drew.

She didn’t even need to ask how he knew. Jessica had always been her ride or die — and when it came to Drew, the loyalty extended far deeper. He killed the engine and stepped out slowly, his expression unreadable as he took them in — the packed boxes, the way Y/N looked like she’d cried herself hollow.

Y/N stood still, arms wrapped around herself. Her fingers clenched the hem of her hoodie like it was the only thing keeping her from unraveling. She hadn’t planned on seeing him tonight, not like this — not when she felt so raw, so undone.

But Drew didn’t speak at first.

He just walked up and wrapped his arms around her.

And Y/N broke.

Her fingers dug into the back of his flannel shirt as a sob ripped silently through her. There were no loud gasps or hysterics — just the kind of grief that made her body fold in on itself. Her face pressed into his chest as he held her tighter, one large hand coming up to cradle the back of her head.

“I’m here,” he murmured, voice thick and low in his chest. “I’ve got you, hen. Let it out.”

She did.

It was all too much — the way Cody smiled at another woman like she was his light, the way he used to smile at her. The way he made her feel like a burden for just wanting to be seen. Like she was always too much, or not enough.

She’d been holding it in for weeks. But now, in Drew’s arms, it crashed out of her in waves.

“I loved him,” she whispered, her voice so small it almost didn’t carry. “I loved him so much I stopped recognizing myself. I changed everything for him. Moved here. Stopped seeing my family as much to spend time with his. I gave him everything I had, Drew.”

He pulled back slightly to look at her, his blue eyes stormy and soft all at once.

“And he gave his attention to someone else,” he said grimly. “I saw it. Tonight. Clear as bloody day.”

“I don’t think he even knows me anymore,” Y/N choked out, shaking her head. “And the worst part? I still love him. Even after all of this.”

Drew exhaled hard through his nose, jaw tightening. He reached out and gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering against her cheek.

“Of course you do. Love like that doesn’t just vanish overnight. But love’s supposed to build you up, not gut you like this.” His voice softened, thick with emotion. “You’re one of the strongest women I know, but even the strongest need someone who’ll fight for them — not make them feel invisible.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes glossy and full of guilt and heartbreak. “I don’t know how to be okay without him,” she confessed.

Drew stepped closer, his forehead gently pressing to hers. “You don’t need to be okay tonight,” he whispered. “Tonight you just need to breathe. I’ll be here. Every step of the way. And I swear on my mother’s life, I’ll never let anyone make you feel this way again.”

Her breath caught in her throat. The way he said it — so certain, so sincere — made something break wide open inside her. But this time, it wasn’t pain. It was relief.

She nodded, closing her eyes against his. They stood there for a long, quiet moment as the sky darkened above them.

Eventually, Jessica gently cleared her throat.

“We should go,” she said softly, eyes damp with her own emotion.

Y/N stepped away from Drew, just enough to meet his eyes again. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You don’t need to thank me for giving a damn about you, lass,” he said, brushing his thumb across her cheek with a tenderness that made her want to cry all over again. “That’s what love’s supposed to look like. Even if it’s just from a friend.”

She didn’t reply — just gave him the faintest, most broken smile. Then she turned toward the car.

As they pulled out of the driveway, she looked back once — at the house where she once believed forever lived. Her heart ached violently in her chest. Not because she hated him. But because she didn’t.

Because despite everything, she still loved him.

But she couldn’t keep living like she was less than what she gave.

So she turned her gaze forward, to the road ahead — and drove away.

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Cody fumbled with the front door key, still rattled from Drew’s outburst earlier that night.

The confrontation had hit something deep. He couldn’t shake the anger in Drew’s voice, or the words “You don’t deserve someone like her.”

Cody had replayed it in his head the whole drive home, trying to convince himself Drew was being overdramatic, or misinformed, or both. He was going to talk to Y/N — figure out what the hell was going on between them. He still didn’t fully get why she’d looked at him like that backstage. Like she didn’t recognize him. Like she hated him.

The lock clicked open and he stepped inside.

The silence was immediate. Too immediate.

No soft music playing from the kitchen speaker. No lights left on. No smell of her favorite lavender candle she always lit after a show.

He stepped deeper in, his boots heavy against the hardwood.

Then it hit him.

The coat rack by the door — empty.

The shelf by the stairs where she kept her keys and lanyards — bare.

His heart dropped.

He moved fast now, heading toward the living room, the hallway, the bedroom. Every room was the same — clean, untouched… and hollow.

Her stuff was gone.

All of it.

The dresser drawers she used. Empty. Her makeup bag on the bathroom counter? Gone. The framed photo of the two of them at Mania, the one where he was lifting her up, both grinning like fools? Removed. A faint square of dust where the frame had been.

It was like she had never lived there.

Cody stood frozen in the middle of the bedroom, throat tightening, pulse starting to race. “Y/N?” he called out instinctively, even though he already knew.

She was gone.

No note. No message.

Just... gone.

His heart thudded in his chest like a warning siren. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He sat down on the bed — their bed — and buried his face in his hands.

And that’s when it hit him. Everything. Every moment he’d dismissed. Every time he told her it was “nothing.” Every time he told himself she was being insecure when she was just trying to be seen.

The flirtatious messages. The way he smiled when Madeline got his jokes. The way he let her linger too close, too long. And worst of all — the way he’d looked at her backstage tonight, like she was the only person in the room.

He hadn’t cheated, right?

Had he given another woman parts of himself that Y/N had been starving to reach?

Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t realize what he had done to push away the love of his life. And now… she was gone.

He stood up in a daze and grabbed his phone, texting her.

CODY: Y/N. Where are you? Can we talk? Please.

No response.

He texted Jess. Nothing.

He tried again. Called her. Voicemail.

Then he started texting everyone. Joseph. Kevin. Pamela. Jonathan. Trinity. Paul. Anyone who might’ve known where she went.

Nobody knew.

Only one clue stood out — Jess hadn’t even opened his message. And she always opened her messages.

So he figured it out.

She was with Jess.

And there was only one place talent was staying in Atlanta tonight.

He remembered exactly which hotel it was, Y/N pretty much having to beg the higher ups to allow them to book with this hotel. It was closer to the arena than the other one they had wanted to stay with.

That was always Y/N’s thing, fighting for the benefit of others even when it had nothing to do with her.

Cody rushed through the lobby the minute he got there, barely acknowledging the concierge as he made his way to the elevators. He knew the floor. Knew how Jess told Y/N the exact room she’d be staying in when she booked the room. And he’d remembered meeting her in this exact hallway at the beginning of their relationship.

The night he first kissed her actually.

When he reached the door, his hand hovered.

He hesitated — just for a second.

Then he knocked.

It opened a beat later. Jessica stood there, arms folded, expression hard as stone. “Why are you here?” she asked coldly.

“I need to see her,” Cody said. His voice cracked. “Please. Just… just for a minute.”

Jessica narrowed her eyes. “You’ve had years of minutes, Cody. And you wasted them.”

“I just—” His voice faltered. “I didn’t know. I didn’t realize she was hurting like that.”

“That’s the problem,” Jess snapped. “You didn’t notice. You never noticed.”

Cody’s mouth opened to respond when a familiar voice interrupted.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Drew stepped into view from deeper in the room, his posture tense, shoulders squared like a wall of fury barely contained.

Cody’s chest tightened. “I just wanna talk to her.”

“She doesn’t owe you anything,” Andrew growled. “Especially not after what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Cody shouted back.

“Aye, but that’s the bloody point, isn’t it?” Drew snapped. “You didn’t do anything. You let her wither away while you smiled at another lass like she was the center of your world.”

Jessica put a hand on Drew’s arm, trying to keep him steady, but it was Y/N’s voice that cut through the tension.

“It’s okay.”

Everyone turned.

Y/N stood behind them, quiet in the doorway of the room. She wore a soft hoodie and shorts, bare feet tucked slightly together, arms wrapped around her middle like she needed to hold herself together.

She looked so small. So tired. And so heartbreakingly beautiful.

“Jess. Drew. It’s okay. I’ve got it,” she said quietly, eyes lingering on Drew with a look of silent gratitude.

They stepped aside.

And Y/N stepped out into the hallway. She closed the door quietly behind her before turning to face him. She looks like someone who has spent every ounce of strength holding it together — and she’s still doing it, even now.

Cody can barely breathe as he looks at her.

"You’re really gone," he says again, quieter this time. Like maybe if he says it softly enough, it won’t be real.

She nods, her eyes glassy but dry. “Yeah.”

“I—I came home and it was like you’d vanished. Not a note. Not even a—” He stops himself, a shaky breath catching in his throat. “Why didn’t you leave me something?”

She gives a broken smile. “Because I knew if I wrote anything down, I’d stay. And I can’t keep staying in a house where I don’t recognize the person I built it with.”

His face falls. “Y/N, please… just yell at me. Be mad. Hate me, even. I deserve it. But please don’t do this. Just come back home.”

“I can’t come home, Cody.” She shakes her head slowly, lips trembling. “But I’m not angry at you.”

"Then what are you?" he asks, voice nearly cracking.

“I’m heartbroken,” she breathes. “But not angry. Because how can I be mad at you for giving yourself to someone else… when I’m the one who just watched you slip away piece by piece?”

Cody’s eyes shut tight. “Don’t say that.”

“I begged you,” she continues, voice rising just a bit, raw around the edges. “I begged you without ever saying a word. I touched your hand and waited for you to hold it back. I looked at you and waited for you to see me. But your eyes always drifted somewhere else. To someone else.”

“I didn’t cheat,” Cody says quickly, almost defensive. “I didn’t touch her. I never crossed that line.”

Y/N’s smile this time is heartbreaking. “There are worse things than touching, Cody.”

Silence.

“You used to look at me like I was your home,” she whispers. “Now everyone just sees distance in your eyes when you look my way — and that’s if you look at all.”

He swallows hard. “I never meant for it to get like this.”

“But it did,” she says, her voice cracking. “You stopped choosing me. And I stayed. I stayed and twisted myself into someone quieter, someone easier to love. I gave you every piece of me I had left.”

“I was stressed,” Cody mutters, stepping forward. “Between the title runs, the travel—”

“No,” she cuts him off. “Don’t you dare blame this on your schedule. I was there. Always. I didn’t need grand gestures. I needed you to talk to me. To look at me the way you looked at her tonight.”

He flinches. “That wasn’t—”

“She leaned in so close,” Y/N whispers, more to herself now. “And you let her. You didn’t stop her. You didn’t flinch. You smiled.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you—”

“But you did,” she says, her voice sharp now. “You hurt me every time you brushed me off. Every time I said ‘I love you’ and you kissed me like it was just… Like it was part of the routine, not something you felt.”

Cody is crying now. He wipes his face roughly.

“I still love you.”

She looks at him, wounded, gentle. “I don’t think you even know what that means anymore.”

“Don’t say that,” he begs.

“You want me to be mad?” she says, stepping closer, her voice dropping. “You want me to scream? Shatter something? I can’t. Because I’m not angry that you loved someone else. I’m devastated that you stopped loving me… and I didn’t even notice when it happened. That’s how slowly you left.”

He drops his head, sobs shaking his shoulders.

She exhales shakily, reaching up to wipe a tear of her own. “You kept looking for someone who understood your world. And I did, Cody. I thrived in this business. I lived it. I still do — just not in the way you do anymore. And when I tried to talk to you about it, you made me feel like I was just some ghost story. Like the time, the toll my body took meant nothing just because I can’t do it anymore.”

“I never wanted you to feel like that—”

“But you didn’t stop it, either,” she says. “You didn’t stop anything.”

There’s a long, weighted silence.

Finally, she whispers, “I would’ve done anything to make you happy. But you never paid close enough attention to see that I was trying.”

Cody’s voice is barely a rasp. “I didn’t know I was losing you.”

Her lip quivers. “You didn’t even know you had me.”

That’s what finally breaks him.

He steps back, one hand clutching his chest like he’s trying to hold in the ache. “Please… please don’t go.”

“I already did,” she says softly. “And it came down to this for you to finally notice.”

She looks at him one last time — really looks at him. And then she turns. “Goodbye Cody.”

Then she walks back inside. The door closes behind her. And Cody stands in the hallway, alone with every word he never said.

The door clicks shut with a soft click as she re-enters Jessica’s room. The silence that greets her is thick, humming low in the aftermath of everything that was said in the hallway.

Jessica’s nowhere to be seen — the muffled sound of running water from the bathroom the only sign she’s still here.

But Andrew is there.

Sitting in the corner chair near the window, elbows on his knees, fingers loosely laced, waiting like he promised he would.

He looks up as she enters, and when he sees her — red-eyed, fragile, shaken — his entire frame softens.

“Hey,” he says, low and warm. “You okay?”

It’s such a simple question.

But it’s asked with such honesty that Y/N has to pause before answering. Her throat tightens.

“No,” she admits quietly. “But I think… I’m breathing again.”

Drew gives a small nod, like he understands more than he lets on. He stands slowly, not rushing her, not pushing. Just being there.

She doesn’t move at first. She’s still holding onto the tension from her conversation with Cody — the ghost of what once was pressing against her chest.

Drew takes a small step forward. “C’mere.”

Y/N doesn’t even hesitate.

She walks straight into his arms.

And he catches her like he’s done it a hundred times before. His embrace is firm but gentle — arms around her back, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head as she presses her face into his chest. The scent of him is familiar now: crisp cologne and warmth. The kind of safety you don’t realize you’ve been craving until it’s wrapped around you.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice small. “For all of this. For dragging you into it.”

“You didn’t drag me,” Drew murmurs into her hair. “I walked. Gladly.”

Y/N lets her eyes close. His heartbeat is steady against her cheek.

She’s quiet for a long beat before her voice finds her again. “He said he didn’t know he was losing me.”

Drew pulls back just enough to look at her. His hand stays gently on her jaw, thumb brushing just beneath her eye, catching the tear that slips free despite her efforts.

“He lost you the second he stopped making you feel chosen,” he says softly. “And anyone who can look at you and not know what they’ve got in front of them… doesn’t deserve to hold onto you.”

Her breath shudders, “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is,” Drew says. “People are the ones that complicate it.”

Their eyes lock. And something in the air shifts. Just enough to be felt. His hand is still on her face. She doesn’t pull away. Neither of them do.

Y/N blinks slowly. “Why do you always know what to say?”

“I don’t always know what to say,” he says simply. “I just know you.”

That lands harder than she expects. She exhales a laugh that’s more of a sigh — sad but grateful. Her hands are still on his chest, fingers curled slightly into his shirt like she’s afraid to let go too quickly.

“Stay?” she asks softly. “Just… sit with me for a bit?”

Drew smiles. “Aye. As long as you want.”

He leads her to the bed, sitting beside her — not touching now, just near. Close enough that she could lean on him if she wanted. Close enough to feel his presence anchoring her.

And for the first time in days, maybe weeks, Y/N doesn’t feel quite so alone.

Outside the window, the city hums.

Inside, she breathes.

And Drew stays — a steady presence beside her, saying nothing more.

But somehow saying everything.

[escapisms-posts]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝑫𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒍 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

When you're alone, Daryl loves picking you up for absolutely no reason. He’ll throw you over his shoulder without saying a word. It pleases him knowing he can pick you up without breaking a sweat. 

When Daryl first finds out you're pregnant, it scares him A LOT. It will take him a while to gather his thoughts, because he has never had a good role model. The only thing going through his mind is all the mistakes he’s going to make. You reassure him that you see how he connects with the others. That he is a caring and loyal person.

Once the fear clears from his body, he becomes obsessed with the idea of you carrying his child. Before your bump is even visible, he’s holding you by the stomach. He’ll come up behind you and start rubbing your belly, reminding you of how beautiful you are. 

Daryl knows you're capable of taking care of yourself, even while pregnant. But he can’t help but make your life as easy as possible. He’ll walk with you to work and help you complete your tasks, even after being tired of doing his. Daryl begins to go on runs a little less often because he wants to be near you and the baby more. He loves taking care of you so much.

As your body begins to change due to you growing a whole new person, you can’t help but feel a little insecure. Staring in the mirror every night since you’ve noticed the first changes. Stretch marks are beginning to form around your stomach, your chest becomes heavier, and the fatigue that wears you down after a long day. You miss your old body. Daryl is there, telling you how ridiculous you sound. Telling you that it's normal for your body to go through this. His in your corner, cheering you on, telling you how sexy you are to him. Nothing's more beautiful than you creating his child.

Since you don’t have a pregnancy pillow, Daryl holds your stomach while you sleep. It doesn’t even bother him, all he wants is for you to be comfortable. This late into the pregnancy, he can feel the baby react to his touch. 

Worry-free creampies ꨄ︎

Sometimes his mind can’t help but wander, Pregnancy is incredibly risky during an apocalypse. Though you’ve talked about the risks, you still decided that you wanted this baby. It's not impossible, just difficult. Even understanding all this, he can’t bear the thought of losing you. Which is why he wants this pregnancy to be as easy as possible for you. 

Lying in bed together, Daryl talks to the baby about his day. It's the most he says all day. Pregnancy is almost coming to an end, the baby jumps, everytime they hear their father's voice. Daryl lies between your legs, planting kisses along your stomach. You don’t know if it's because you're hormonal or straight up dramatic, but every time he says, “I can’t want to meet you,” it makes you want to cry.