scene : your boyfriend calls you, but your ‘kinda’ busy, and manon makes sure he knows his girl is busy.
content warning : cheating , g!p manon , fem reader , manon is cocky , creampie , squirt , language , praise words , pet names.
author's note : stay hydrated guys 😌 . m.list
You were in a sticky situation at the moment, well your legs were sticky drooping with your cum mixed in with manon’s. You knew this was wrong, she was your boyfriend’s best friend. But he disrespected you in front of everyone tonight, making you leave the house party.
To get revenge you decided to sleep with his best friend, the friend who he grew up with from childhood. Doing this feels like betrayal to him. But Manon didn’t care, she had the prettiest chick, getting cracked by her.
Manon originally had a crush on you, but so did Jacob so she let Jacob take you out on her dream dates. She let him have the girl she wanted, kiss the girl she wanted, even slept with the girl she wanted. It wasn’t fair for her.
So now she had you where she wanted, she took deep thrusts into you. “Fuck you tight as hell pretty..” her hips pulled away before snapping forwards again. You whined, this was so wrong on so many levels but she felt so good.
You’d already cummed on her dick twice, and your third was already building up into a knot. “m..manon..” you muttered, she couldn’t hear you though — the background sounds of her clapping your cheeks.
“Shit baby..” she braced her hands on your waist and started thrusting into you. Your head dipped into the mattress, “manon.. m’close..” you finally started over you rambling.
“again? You already gonna cum for me right now..?” She leaned in her chest pressed in your back. “Hold it for me princess.. imma cum with you soon.. so be good for mama yea..?”
You nodded, Jacob never made you feel like this ever, he’d always pull out to cum on your thigh. He never had good enough stamina and never filled you up like how manon. You started to regret your choices of choosing him over her.
You clenched hard onto her dick holding it in as the good girl you know you are for her, as you gripped the sheets holding on for dear life your phone rang. If was located near were manon was standing, “your phone is ringing dear..” she looked at you and smirked as you completely ignored her words.
At this point your brain was all mushed up, you were so sensitive that your body was going in overdrive. “Imma answer it and give it to you yea..?..” she picked up your phone, it was Jacob calling you.
“Well well well this will be fun princess..” she clicked answer, and handed you the phone, you gripped it trying not to moan as manon found a new spot inside you to hit.
Jacob : “yn i’m sorry is was a stupid fucking plan and i fucked up badly.. please come back our apartment.. please..”
you : “i-im.. at a.. a friends house jacob.. i just want..” your breath went shakey, you were on the brim.
Jacob : “yn are you okay? You sound like you’re running a marathon..”
You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, but Manon noticed and pulls out before thrusting hardly back in. You let out a yelp into the phone.
Jacob : “yn? Are you there?”
You didn’t answer, you were absolutely gone.
Manon took the phone.
Jacob : “yn yn? Are you there? Whats that noise..?”
Manon : “sup cobby, your girl’s kinda busy right now..”
Jacob : “what? Manon what are you talking about..? — what’s going on with you and yn..?”
Manon : “she’s fine, i’m just making sure she’s alright..”
Jacob sighed : “okay i’ll call back tomorrow.. just take care of her for me..”
Manon : “of course Cobby, you’re my brother from another mother..” she hanged up throwing you phone back onto the desk.
“He’s so fucking stupid..” she continued thrusting, “i dunno what you saw in him pretty.” You looked up at her.. “..close..”
She nodded, “yea.. cum for me baby.. lemme see you squirt all over this dick.” And so you did so, your legs shook your hold pushing her completely out as well as her cum.
it’s you and your girlfriend’s anniversary! in a foolish attempt to be funny, you decide to act like you have no idea it’s your anniversary. the question is, how will she react to your ‘funny joke’?
♡ ───── ot6 x fem reader, fluff, angst with comfort, some angst with no comfort, suggestive content, anniversary gifts, how do i make this about obsession?, brat taming (in a way), mentions of a vibrator, yoonchae a brat.
𝓙eung 𝒀oonchae. ✿
yoonchae texts you around 12:03am. she asks if you know what day it is. upon your prank playing, she’s being very pouty— but when you tease her just a bit, she reveals that she has a surprise for you.
𝓜egan 𝓢kiendiel. ✿
megan texts you around 12:02am. she approaches you with lots of expression. upon your prank playing, she’s very upset— but when you provoke her with her favorite snack, she’s almost immediately jumping with joy.
𝒟aniela 𝓐vanzini. ✶
daniela texts you around 12:10am. she approaches you with calmness, but underlying excitement. upon your prank playing, she’s immediately angry with you. though you try to insist that it was a joke, she ends up doing something that shocks you.
𝓜anon 𝓑annerman. ✿
manon texts you at eactly 12:00am. she approaches you with a hilarious, narrator-like dialogue. upon your prank playing, she’s slightly annoyed— but when you tell her about your gift, she seems excited— that is until you give her all the details of your gift.
𝓢ophia 𝓛aforteza. ✶
you text sophia around 7:08am. you approach her with with an attitude that leads her to believe you’re excited about your anniversary. upon your prank playing, she puts on a dominant attitude— declaring that you’ll regret ever teasing her.
𝓛ara 𝐑ajagopalan. ✶
lara texts you around 12:09am. she approaches you by immediately saying she’s coming over. upon your prank playing, her joking attitude slowly fades into a more serious one as she promises punishment.
an— request by anon here. this was fun to make! :)
pairing » megan skiendiel x fem!reader
synopsis » megan promised never to fall for a fan, until she met you, and the rule didn’t stand a chance.
» fluff to angst to fluff
wc » 4k
rule number one of the idol handbook, seemingly etched in stone and repeated by management until it was white noise in the back of her mind: do not fall in love with a fan.
it was logical. it was professional. it was meant to protect the boundary between the artist and the admirer. for megan, it had never been a difficult rule to follow. she loved her fans—she adored the eyekons with her whole heart—but that love was platonic. it was a gratitude for their support, a shared energy during performances, a collective bond. she had never looked into the sea of lightsticks and felt her heart stutter with genuine, terrifying romantic attraction.
that was, until the los angeles show.
it had been three weeks ago. the adrenaline was high, the bass of "touch" was vibrating through the floorboards of the stage, and megan was doing her part, scanning the front row. that was when the stage lights swept over section b, row 1.
there you were.
you were wearing a hot pink crop top and a matching skirt, an outfit that demanded attention, but it wasn’t the clothes that made megan miss a step in her choreography. it was your face. you were singing along, eyes shining with pure joy, and when you locked eyes with megan, you didn’t just scream like everyone else. you smiled a soft, genuine smile that seemed to cut through the chaos of the arena.
megan had spent the rest of the concert unconsciously gravitating toward your side of the stage.
later that night, on the tour bus, she couldn’t shut up about it.
"i’m telling you, daniela, she was literally glowing," megan had insisted, scrubbing her makeup off with a wipe while staring at the ceiling. "she had this pink outfit on. section b. did you see her?"
daniela had rolled her eyes. "meg, there were two thousand people in pink. it’s our concept color half the time."
"no, but this was different," megan groaned, frustrated that she couldn't articulate the magnetic pull she had felt. "she was... pretty. like, intimidatingly pretty. i felt like i should have been asking for her autograph."
manon had laughed from the seat next to her. "careful, megan. you know the rules. don't go falling for the front row."
"i'm not falling," megan had scoffed, throwing the makeup wipe into the trash. "i just... i know i won't see her again. and that sucks."
she was wrong.
the fan sign event was in full swing. the room was buzzing with the low hum of chatter, the shutter of cameras, and the occasional shriek of excitement. the air smelled of expensive perfume and permanent markers. megan was seated between yoonchae and sophia, smiling until her cheeks hurt, signing album after album, answering questions about her skincare routine and her favorite snacks.
she was grateful, she really was, but her social battery was draining. she took a sip of water, adjusting her headband, and looked up to see who was next in the queue.
her heart stopped. it actually stopped, then slammed against her ribs with the force of a sledgehammer.
it was you.
you were wearing a different outfit today—a soft denim jacket over a white dress—but the face was unmistakable. it was the face that had haunted her dreams for the last three weeks. you were standing about five people back in the line, clutching your album to your chest, looking nervous.
the fans in the front row noticed the change instantly. megan, who had been slouching slightly in her chair, suddenly straightened up. her eyes widened, losing that glazed-over 'idol autopilot' look and sharpening into intense focus. a few fans whispered, wondering what had caught her attention, but megan didn't care.
she was counting down.
four. a nice girl who asked about megan’s dance training. megan answered politely, but her eyes kept darting over the girl's shoulder.
three. a guy who wanted a high-five. megan gave it to him, tapping her foot impatiently under the table.
two. a fan who was crying. megan held her hand, offering comfort, but her internal monologue was screaming, she’s right there. she’s right there.
one.
and then, you were standing in front of her.
up close, you were even more devastating. the harsh fluorescent lights of the venue usually washed people out, but you looked radiant. you placed your album on the table, your hands trembling slightly.
"hi, megan," you breathed out, your voice soft.
megan felt a grin split her face, wider and more genuine than anything she’d offered the cameras all day. "hi," she replied, her voice dropping an octave, becoming something softer, intimate. "i remember you."
you blinked, looking stunned. "you... you do?"
"la show. three weeks ago," megan said immediately, leaning her elbows on the table to bridge the gap between you. "section b. you were wearing that pink two-piece set. the skirt and the top?"
your jaw dropped slightly, a lovely shade of red blooming across your cheeks. "i... yeah. that was me. i can't believe you remember that. there were so many people."
"hard to miss you," megan murmured, uncapping her marker. she didn't break eye contact. "i actually told the girls about you afterward. i wouldn't shut up about the 'pretty girl in pink'."
you let out a breathless laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "you're lying. there's no way megan skiendiel was talking about me."
"ask daniela," megan challenged playfully, tilting her head. "i was distressed. i thought i’d never see you again."
she looked down at the album page, opened to her solo photo. the staff member behind megan tapped her shoulder, a silent signal to hurry it up, the line was long. megan ignored them.
she started signing, but she didn't just sign her autograph. she began writing a message. a long one.
"so," megan said, keeping her tone casual but her eyes flirting dangerously with yours. "what's your name? or do i just keep calling you 'pretty girl in pink' in my head?"
"it's y/n," you managed to say.
"y/n," megan tested the name, smiling as she wrote it down. "suits you. pretty name for a pretty face."
the management’s rule echoed in her head: do not fall in love.
megan looked up at you, taking in the way your eyelashes fluttered, the way you were biting your lip nervously, the way you looked at her like she was the sun.
i have been instructed to not fall in love with any fans ever since debut, but how could i not fall for a face as pretty as yours?
she finished writing the message. beneath her signature, in smaller, messier scrawl, she had written a series of digits.
"you know," megan said, her voice dropping to a whisper as she slid the album back toward you. "i'm usually really good at following rules. i'm a model employee."
you took the album, your fingers brushing against hers. the contact sent a jolt of electricity up megan's arm that she was sure you felt too. "are you?" you asked, your voice trembling.
"usually," megan smirked. her eyes flicked to the staff member who was now glaring at the clock, then back to you. "but for you? i think i'm about to become a problem child."
you looked down at the album, your eyes widening as you realized what the numbers were. you looked back up at her, shock written all over your features. "megan, is this...?"
"shh," megan winked, putting a finger to her lips. "don't get me fired before i get to take you out on a date."
the staff member stepped in. "moving along, please."
you grabbed your album, clutching it like it was a holy relic. you began to stand up, your legs looking a little shaky. megan watched you go, a pang of desperation hitting her. she needed to make sure.
as you turned to leave the table area, passing behind her chair to head toward the exit, megan pretended to drop her marker.
"oops," she said loudly.
as she leaned down to "retrieve" it, she reached out with her left hand, catching your attention. you paused. in a swift, practiced motion, something she must have learned from a spy movie, she slipped a small, laminated card into your hand.
it was a backstage pass. the 'family & friends' all-access laminate.
you froze, the cool plastic pressing against your palm. you looked down at her. megan was already sitting back up, smiling brightly at the next fan in line, but she cut her eyes toward you for one brief second.
she bit her lip, raising her eyebrows in a silent challenge: come find me.
you bit your lip back, nodding once, a flush rising on your neck. you quickly tucked the card into your pocket and walked away, trying to look casual, but megan saw the bounce in your step.
megan turned her attention to the next fan, "hi there! what's your name?"
inside, she was screaming. the rule book had been thrown out the window, burned, and scattered to the wind.
the laminate card felt heavy in your pocket, burning a hole through the fabric of your denim jacket. the security guard at the end of the hallway had barely glanced at it before nodding you through, his indifference a stark contrast to the frantic pounding of your heart.
you found the door marked megan. you took a breath, smoothed your dress, and knocked.
the door opened almost instantly, as if she had been standing right on the other side waiting. megan pulled you inside, shutting the door quickly behind you. the dressing room was surprisingly empty; the other girls must have been in hair and makeup or catering.
"you came," megan breathed out, leaning back against the closed door. she was still in her stage outfit, glittering under the vanity lights, sweat making her skin glow.
"you gave me an all-access pass, megan," you teased, trying to find your footing despite the fact that your knees felt like jelly. "it would have been rude to waste it."
megan laughed, a breathless, airy sound. she stepped closer, invading your personal space with an ease that made your head spin. "i was worried you’d think i was crazy. writing my number on an album?"
"it was a little crazy," you admitted, looking up at her. "but i like crazy."
"good." megan’s gaze dropped. she wasn't looking at your eyes anymore. her dark eyes were fixed firmly on your lips. the air in the room shifted, becoming thick and charged with static.
"megan," you murmured, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.
"hmm?" she hummed, not looking up.
"you’re staring at my lips."
megan’s eyes snapped back up to yours, but she didn't look embarrassed. she looked hungry. she took another half-step forward, her thigh brushing against yours. "i’ve been thinking about them since the la show," she confessed, her voice low and raspy. "it’s really hard not to stare when you’re standing right here."
you felt a blush creep up your neck, but the boldness of her admission gave you courage. you let out a soft giggle, the sound breaking the heavy tension just enough to let you breathe. "you are dangerous, skiendiel."
"i try." she reached out, her fingers grazing the fabric of your denim jacket, hesitating as if she wanted to pull you closer but was restraining herself.
you checked your watch, feigning responsibility. "i should probably go. if the rest of the group comes back and finds a random fan in the dressing room, you’re going to be in so much trouble."
megan groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. "i hate that you're right. i hate logic." she looked back at you, intense and serious. "text me? tonight?"
"i will," you promised.
the text came at 11:42 pm. how she found your number, you dont know and maybe you don't really care.
megan: my ears are still ringing from the show but all i can hear is you giggling in the dressing room.
megan: did you make it home?
you: safe and sound. you were amazing tonight, by the way. even from the back of the room.
megan: next time you’ll be front row again. or side stage. i prefer you within reaching distance.
that text marked the beginning of a two-month blur that felt like a movie montage.
-
dating an idol was... complicated. it meant late-night facetime calls where megan was removing her stage makeup in a hotel room in tokyo while you were eating breakfast in la. it meant dates that happened in the back of tinted suvs with takeout food, or in private karaoke rooms where you spent more time talking than singing.
you learned that megan was funny, genuinely, sarcastically funny. you learned she was affectionate, constantly needing to hold your hand or rest her head on your shoulder whenever the coast was clear.
it was two months in, sitting in her car parked specifically in a blind spot behind a 24-hour diner, when she asked.
she had been quiet for a few minutes, just tracing the lines on your palm with her thumb.
"y/n?"
"yeah, meg?"
"i don't want to hide this anymore," she said softly, looking at your joined hands. "i mean... i know we have to hide it from the public. but i don't want to be 'just talking' or whatever this is. i want to be yours. officially." she looked up, her eyes vulnerable. "will you be my girlfriend?"
you had squeezed her hand, leaning over the center console to kiss her cheek. "i thought you’d never ask. yes."
one month later.
the dorm was silent. a rare, golden miracle.
everyone was out and the house was empty. megan had texted you the all-clear code: eagle has landed. nest is empty.
you had arrived ten minutes later.
now, the air in megan’s bedroom was hot, smelling of her vanilla perfume and the friction of movement.
you were straddling megan’s lap on her desk chair, the wheels locked in place. the chair groaned slightly under the movement, but neither of you cared. megan’s head was thrown back, her hands gripping your hips tightly to keep you anchored against her.
"god, y/n," megan gasped against your neck, her lips finding the sensitive spot just below your ear. "i missed you so much."
"i saw you yesterday," you teased breathlessly, your hands tangled in her dark hair, guiding her face back to yours.
"too long," she mumbled against your skin.
she captured your lips again, the kiss deeper, messier than the ones before. you ground down into her lap, the friction sending a jolt through both of you that made megan’s breath hitch audibly. a low moan vibrated in her throat, a sound that you felt more than heard.
"meg..." you whined, the sensation overwhelming.
megan didn't waste time. her hands moved from your hips, sliding up under the hem of your shirt. her palms were warm against your bare skin, tracing the curve of your waist before moving to the center of your back. her fingers danced along your spine, pressing firmly, pulling you impossibly closer until there was zero space left between you.
you broke the kiss to gasp for air, resting your forehead against hers. her eyes were blown wide, dark and hazy with lust.
"you're so beautiful," megan whispered, her hand splaying out on your back, her thumb rubbing circles against your skin under the shirt. she bucked her hips up slightly, an instinctive response to the pressure, and you let out a shaky, needy sound, biting your lip to keep from being too loud.
"we're alone, right?" you asked, your voice trembling.
"completely," megan promised, leaning up to bite your bottom lip gently. "just you and m—"
the bedroom door slammed open.
"megan! do you have my black boots? the ones with the—"
it was manon.
time seemed to freeze.
manon stood in the doorway, holding a shopping bag. she looked at the desk. she saw the chair. she saw you. she saw you on top of megan. she saw megan’s hands clearly under your shirt. she saw your swollen lips and flushed faces.
for a solid three seconds, there was absolute silence.
megan froze, her hands still under your shirt. you froze, looking like a deer in headlights, mid-grind.
manon, ever the quiet one, let out a scream that could have shattered glass. she slapped her hands over her eyes, spun around, and ran directly into the doorframe before scrambling out into the hallway.
"oh my god! oh my god! my eyes! i'm blind!"
megan scrambled to push you off, panic setting in. "manon! wait!"
you stumbled off megan’s lap, yanking your shirt down and trying to fix your hair, your heart hammering so hard you thought you might die of embarrassment right there.
from the hallway, you heard the front door open and a cacophony of voices. the others were back early.
"who is screaming?" that was sophia’s voice. "is there a bug? manon, why are you on the floor?"
"megan!" manon wailed from the hallway. "megan is... in there... with the pretty girl in pink... and they were... they were..."
"they were what?" daniela’s voice piped up, sounding amused.
megan stood up, her face bright crimson. she looked at you, panic warring with hilarity in her eyes. "i think we're busted."
"you think?" you hissed, frantically wiping lipstick off your chin.
megan walked to the door and poked her head out. "guys, can we just—"
daniela pushed past megan, barging into the room. she took one look at you, disheveled hair, swollen lips, standing awkwardly by the bed, and then looked at megan.
"finally!" daniela threw her hands up. "i owe yoonchae twenty bucks. i bet you guys wouldn't hook up for another month."
"you bet on us?" megan shrieked.
"we all bet on you," sophia said, appearing in the doorway, looking calm but amused. she looked at you and offered a polite wave. "hi, y/n. nice to see you again. sorry about manon. she's... sensitive."
megan covered her face with her hands, groaning into her palms. you couldn't help it. you started laughing. you walked over and wrapped an arm around megan’s waist, pulling her hands away from her face.
"well," you said, smiling at the terrifyingly supportive group of girls staring at you. "i guess the secret is out."
megan looked at you, saw the humor in your eyes, and sighed, leaning into your touch. "yeah. guess so." she glared at manon in the hallway. "knock next time!"
"lock the door next time!" manon screamed back.
-
but no relationship is perfect.
you knew what you signed up for.
that was the mantra you repeated to yourself in the mirror every time you had to duck into a bathroom stall to avoid a paparazzi camera. it was the sentence you whispered into your pillow when megan had to leave your bed at 4:00 am to get back to the dorms before management did a headcount.
i knew what i signed up for.
but knowing the terms of the contract didn't make the fine print hurt any less. you knew about the secrecy. you knew about the busy schedules. you knew about the pressure. but you didn't know about the feeling of shrinking. you didn't know that loving megan skiendiel meant slowly becoming invisible.
it had started small, cancelled dinner plans because a practice ran late, a movie night interrupted by an emergency meeting. you were understanding. you were the "good" girlfriend. you were supportive.
but then came the incident at the boba shop.
it was a tuesday, a rare afternoon off. you were both wearing masks and hoodies, trying to be normal people getting bubble tea. you were laughing at something she said, your hand instinctively reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"megan?"
the voice shattered the bubble. a fan, phone already out, eyes wide with recognition.
megan flinched. it was a physical reaction, a recoil that sent her stumbling a step away from you. her demeanor shifted instantly from 'girlfriend' to 'idol'. she straightened her spine, put on the practiced smile, and waved.
"hi!" megan chirped, though her eyes were darting nervously around the shop.
the fan looked at megan, then looked at you, eyebrows furrowing. "oh my god, i love you so much. is this your friend?"
you opened your mouth to speak, maybe to say yes, or cousin, or old classmate.
"no," megan said quickly. too quickly. she stepped in front of you, effectively blocking you from the fan's view. "she’s just a staff member. she’s helping me run some errands today."
staff member.
not a friend. not a distant relative. not even an acquaintance. you were an employee. a nameless, faceless assistant.
the fan lost interest in you immediately, looking through you as if you were made of glass. "oh, cool. can i get a picture?"
"quickly," megan said, ushering the girl away from you.
you stood there, clutching your cold tea, feeling the shame burn hot in your cheeks. you weren't angry that she hid the relationship; you were angry at how easily she discarded your humanity to protect her image.
that was three weeks ago. since then, she had cancelled three dates back-to-back. first, it was an unexpected interview. then, she was "too tired" and afraid she’d look bad on camera the next day. then, a choreography change.
you were reaching your breaking point. megan sensed it.
"baby, please," she had begged over the phone two days ago, hearing the hollowness in your voice. "i know i’ve been terrible. i know. but i’m going to make it up to you. i promise."
"you always say that, meg."
"this time is different," she insisted, her voice thick with desperation. "friday night. i have the whole evening cleared. i’m going to take you somewhere special. a private room, no masks, just us. the most romantic date ever."
you hesitated. "i don't know..."
"please," she whispered. "be ready by 8:30. don't ask questions. just look pretty, and i’ll handle the rest. i love you."
and because you were in love, and because hope is a dangerous thing, you agreed.
-
friday. 8:15 pm.
you stared at yourself in the full-length mirror. you had gone all out. you were wearing a slip dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, the fabric shimmering under the warm light of your bedroom. you had spent an hour on your makeup, achieving that perfect, dewy look that megan always complimented. your hair was curled to perfection.
you sprayed a cloud of perfume—the vanilla scent she loved—and stepped into it. you felt beautiful.
8:30 pm.
you sat on the edge of your couch, careful not to wrinkle your dress. you had your purse in your lap, phone in hand, waiting for the text. i’m outside. or come down.
the clock on the wall ticked.
8:45 pm.
traffic. it was friday night in the city; traffic was inevitable. you checked your lipstick in your phone camera. still perfect. you sent a quick text.
me: hey, just checking in! no rush, just letting you know i'm ready :)
9:15 pm.
no reply.
you stood up and paced the living room. maybe she was driving. if she was driving, she couldn't text. that was responsible. but anxiety began to gnaw at your stomach. the silence in the apartment felt loud.
9:45 pm.
you sat back down. you checked megan’s fan accounts on twitter/x. nothing new. no sightings. that was good, right? it meant she wasn't stuck at a public event.
you called her. it rang. and rang. and rang.
“hi, you’ve reached megan. leave a message!”
you hung up. "okay," you whispered to the empty room. "maybe her phone died. or she’s surprising me by knocking on the door."
10:30 pm.
the hope had curdled into something sour and heavy in your throat. the apartment was dark, save for the streetlights filtering through the blinds. you were still sitting on the couch, but your posture had slumped. the purse had slid to the floor.
you felt foolish. you felt like a child who had dressed up for a party that no one else was attending. you thought about the expensive primer you used, now settling into the fine lines of your frowning face.
10:55 pm.
it was over. you knew it.
11:00 pm.
your heart didn't shatter all at once; it cracked slowly, painfully.
you stood up, your legs stiff from sitting in one position for hours. you walked to your bedroom, the click of your heels on the hardwood floor sounding like gunshots in the quiet apartment.
you stood before the mirror again. the girl staring back didn't look beautiful anymore. she looked pathetic. she looked like a fan waiting for an autograph that would never come.
tears welled up, hot and stinging. you didn't wipe them away. you watched them track through the foundation, leaving streaks of ruin down your cheeks.
"stupid," you choked out, your voice breaking. "you are so stupid."
you unzipped the dress. it fell to the floor in a pool of silk. you didn't bother hanging it up. you kicked it aside. you took a makeup wipe and scrubbed your face, harsh and angry motions that turned your skin red. you scrubbed away the contour, the blush, the hope.
you put on an oversized t-shirt, one that wasn't hers, you refused to wear hers right now, and crawled into bed. you curled into a ball, hugging your knees to your chest.
you couldn't sleep. you just stared at the wall, feeling the hollowness in your chest expand until it consumed you.
1:00 am.
your phone buzzed on the nightstand.
the light was blinding in the darkness. you squinted, your heart doing a painful flip in your chest. it was her.
megan: baby i’m so sorry, we had a vocal session that was way longer than any of us expected to be.
you stared at the words. a vocal session.
megan: we have an album we need to release before the end of the year yk that..let me make it up to you, i’ll be there in 20 okay?
something inside you snapped. it wasn't a loud snap. it was the quiet death of your patience.
she didn't forget. she just prioritized. and she didn't even have the decency to text you during the session to tell you to take off the dress. she let you wait. she let you sit there for four and a half hours because she assumed you would always be there waiting.
your fingers trembled as you typed. you didn't scream. you didn't use caps lock. you didn't send a paragraph.
me: don’t bother, i really don’t wanna see u rn megan
you watched the read receipt appear instantly. the three dots began to bounce. she was typing.
you turned off your phone. you placed it face down on the nightstand. and then, finally, you cried yourself to sleep.
-
you woke up with a headache that throbbed behind your eyes. the sun was streaming through the curtains, offensive and bright. your eyes felt swollen and gritty.
you shuffled to the kitchen to get water, your body feeling heavy, like you were moving through molasses.
knock. knock. knock.
you froze, glass in hand.
knock. knock.
"y/n? i know you're in there. please open up."
it was megan. her voice sounded wrecked.
you didn't want to open it. you wanted to crawl back into a hole. but the anger, that cold, hard anger, propelled you forward. you walked to the door and unlocked it, swinging it open.
megan stood in the hallway. she looked terrible, which gave you zero satisfaction. she was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, her face bare, dark circles under her eyes prominent. she looked like she hadn't slept.
"y/n," she breathed out, stepping forward, reaching for you.
you took a sharp step back, putting the door between you and her. "don't."
megan flinched, her hand dropping to her side. she looked at you. she saw the swollen eyes, the red-rimmed lids, the absolute exhaustion radiating off you.
"i came as soon as i woke up," megan said, her voice trembling. "i tried calling you all night. why was your phone off?"
"because i was sleeping, megan," you said, your voice raspy and devoid of warmth. "unlike you, i don't operate on idol time."
"i said i was sorry," megan pleaded, her desperation rising. "it was the producers. they wouldn't let us leave until the harmony was perfect. i couldn't check my phone. you know how strict they are."
"i don't care," you said flatly.
"you don't care?" megan blinked, looking hurt. "y/n, it's my career. it's the album. you know this is my dream."
"and what am i?" you asked, the question cutting through the air like a knife. you finally looked her in the eyes, and the intensity of your gaze made her stumble back. "am i a hobby? am i a pastime? or am i just a staff member you keep around for when you're bored?"
megan’s face paled. "that... that isn't fair. you know why i said that."
"i waited for five hours, megan." you laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "i sat on my couch in a dress i bought specifically for you, for five hours. do you have any idea what that feels like? to sit there and realize that i am not even worth a five-second text message?"
"i didn't have my phone!" megan raised her voice slightly, frustration leaking into her tone. "i’m trying my best here! i’m trying to balance the biggest career of my life and this relationship, and i’m doing it alone!"
"you're not doing it alone!" you yelled back, the dam finally breaking. "i am the one hiding in cars! i am the one being called 'staff'! i am the one sitting alone in an apartment waiting for scraps of your time! i am doing all the compromising, megan!"
megan stepped into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind her.
"you think i want to hide you?" megan shouted, her hands balling into fists. "you think i like lying to people? i am doing this to protect us! if they find out, it’s over. the group, the tour, everything! i am under so much pressure, y/n, i feel like i can’t breathe half the time!"
"then stop dragging me down with you!" you screamed, your voice cracking, tears hot and fast returning to your eyes. "if it’s too much, then let me go! because being your dirty little secret is killing me! i am a person, megan! i have feelings!"
"i know you have feelings!" megan stepped closer, her face contorted with stress and anger. "but you knew! you said you understood! you said you could handle the lifestyle!"
"i thought i could handle the lifestyle!" you countered, gesturing wildly around the empty apartment. "i didn't think the lifestyle meant being stood up until 1 am while you pretend i don't exist! i didn't think it meant loving someone who puts me second every single time!"
"i don't put you second!"
"yes, you do! every single day! the fans come first. the company comes first. the girls come first. and i get whatever scraps are left over!" you were sobbing now, your chest heaving, the headache pounding against your skull. "i'm tired, megan. i'm so tired of being invisible."
"i am trying to build a future!" megan yelled, her voice raw. "for me! for us!"
"there is no us if you’re never here!"
the words hung in the air, vibrating with the force of your scream. megan stared at you, her mouth slightly open, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
you wiped your face aggressively with the back of your hand, sniffing loudly. you looked at her, and for the first time, you didn't see the idol. you just saw a girl who was hurting you.
"i’m just so..." you trailed off, your voice dropping to a broken whisper. "i'm done. i'm done fighting for your attention, megan."
the silence that followed was suffocating.
megan paused. her angry stance faltered. she blinked, and suddenly, the adrenaline that had been fueling her rage evaporated, leaving behind a cold, stark terror.
she looked at you. really looked at you. you were shaking. your face was wet with tears. you looked broken.
megan reached up to touch her own face and was startled to find it wet. she hadn't even realized she was crying. her fingers came away damp with tears she hadn't felt falling.
but that wasn't what stopped her heart. it was what you said. i'm done.
those two words echoed in her head, louder than any cheering crowd. done.
"what..." megan’s voice was a ghost of a whisper. "what do you mean... you're done?"
you didn't answer. you just looked at the floor, hugging yourself as if trying to keep your pieces together.
megan felt the floor drop out from under her. the anger was gone, replaced instantly by a panic so sharp it nearly brought her to her knees. she realized, with terrifying clarity, that she was about to lose you. not just for a date. not just for a night. but forever.
she thought about her life without you. no late-night texts. no giggling in dressing rooms. no one to hold her when the pressure got too much. just empty hotel rooms and screaming fans who didn't know her.
"no," megan whimpered. "no, you can't... you can't mean that."
she rushed forward, closing the distance between you, but she didn't grab you. she didn't pull you in. she collapsed.
megan skiendiel, the girl who danced on stages in front of thousands, dropped to her knees on your living room floor.
"y/n... baby, please," she sobbed, reaching out to take your hands. her grip was desperate, her palms clammy. "don't say that. don't say you're done. please."
you tried to pull your hands away, but she held on tight, pressing her forehead against your knuckles.
"i can't lose you," she cried into your skin. "i can't. i swear to god, i can't live without you. you're... you're everything. you're the only real thing i have."
you bit your lip, looking away, trying to steel your heart. "megan, get up."
"no!" she shook her head frantically against your hands, looking up at you. "i won't get up until you tell me you're not leaving. i'll fix it. i swear, i'll fix it. i'll tell them to back off. i'll make time. i'll scream it from the rooftops if you want me to. just... just give me time. give me one more chance."
you looked down at her. her eyes, those big, dark, expressive eyes, were swimming with tears. her eyelashes were clumped together. she looked terrified. she looked like a puppy that had been kicked.
it was your weak spot. it always had been.
your resolve, which had felt so solid moments ago, began to crumble. you loved her. god help you, you loved her so much it hurt. you saw the sincerity in her face, the sheer panic at the thought of a life without you.
you let out a shaky breath, a fresh wave of tears spilling over. "i can't keep doing this, meg. i can't keep waiting."
"you won't have to," she promised, squeezing your hands. "i'll be better. i'll be the girlfriend you deserve. i'll be greedy with my time for you. just... please. don't go."
you closed your eyes, tilting your head back. the silence stretched, heavy and fragile.
"just one chance," you rasped out, your voice barely audible.
megan let out a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh. she scrambled up from her knees and immediately pulled you into her arms. she buried her face in your neck, holding you so tightly it was almost hard to breathe.
"thank you," she wept against your shoulder. "thank you, thank you. i love you so much. i'm so sorry."
you slowly brought your arms up to wrap around her, your fingers threading into her hair. you cried together, standing in the hallway, the fight draining out of you until only exhaustion remained.
-
the rest of the day was spent in silence, but it was a healing silence.
you didn't go out. you didn't open the curtains. megan led you to the couch, and you both collapsed onto it, tangling your limbs together under a throw blanket. she refused to let go of you. even when she had to use the bathroom, she made you promise to stay right there.
she kissed your swollen eyelids. she kissed your forehead. she kissed your knuckles. every touch was an apology.
eventually, exhaustion took over. you fell asleep with your head on her chest, the rhythm of her heartbeat lulling you into a dreamless nap.
megan stayed awake. she watched you sleep, tracing the line of your jaw with her eyes. she looked at the puffiness of your face and hated herself for causing it. she thought about the fear she felt when you said you were done. she never wanted to feel that again.
she carefully reached for her phone on the coffee table, trying not to disturb you.
she opened her messages. she found the contact labeled manager.
her thumb hovered over the keyboard. she looked at you one last time, sleeping peacefully in her arms. she made her choice.
megan: schedule a meeting with missy for tomorrow. it’s important.
megan: we need to talk about my schedule and my contract terms. it can't wait.
( texts ) - random texts with sophia as ur gf. paring . ( g!p ) sophia . L x fem reader ࿐ ༢⠀ㅤ𓈒 fluff :: suggestive . A/n :: i think i have an addiction to making these.. . m.list
no one else might notice how you hardly eat, pushing around food in an attempt to make it look like you've consumed something, but yoonchae does, and she can't stand to see her girlfriend destroying herself.
content: fem!reader, eating disorder, angst, one mention of reader measuring her wrist, no actual descriptions of readers weight/physical appearance (except from looking tired), a brief scene of yoonchae eating, yoonchae drives (don't ask about her licence....) not proofread word count: 1.0k note: please mind the warnings and take care of yourself <3
it was naive of you to think your girlfriend wouldn't notice.
she pays attention down to the finest details, memorising your favourite flower from just one mention to always putting your preferred amount of ice cubes in your drink without ever needing to ask. so why wouldn't she notice this?
"you didn't eat anything," she accuses halfway through the drive home, breaking the almost painful silence. usually, your drives back from dinner with your friends are filled with singing and laughter, only occasionally broken by a comfortable silence while yoonchae focuses on the road and you gaze at her lovingly.
"i don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, staring out the window. in the reflection, your tired eyes greet you, a prevalent, bone deep exhaustion that not even the heaviest makeup can conceal. you're surprised none of your friends commented on it, but you guess they were too caught up with talking and eating to notice.
which honestly, thank god, because yoonchae's concerned eyes are already too much, having five more worried looks all trained on you might kill you.
"you just pushed your food around during dinner, so it would look like you ate," she says, and damn her for paying attention to you so well, for knowing you like the back of her hand. "i didn't see you take a bite once."
you shrug, "well then i guess you just weren't looking when i did."
"oh? so you took one bite? how filling," she deadpans. her hands grip the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles go white, jaw firmly clenched in order to bite down words she won't be able to take back.
"i wasn't hungry, is that such a crime?"
"it is when you're never hungry."
she pulls the car to a stop in front of the late night convenience store you didn't even realise you were approaching, wordlessly grabbing her bag and stepping out of the car. then, before she slams the door shut, commands, "stay here."
as if you'd have anywhere to go.
the wait is excruciating, your knee bouncing so hard the car slightly shakes. you can't sit still, obsessively fixing your makeup, opening social media and then immediately regretting it a second after, measuring your wrist with your fingers and sighing unhappily at the results that'll never be enough, regardless of the outcome.
only ten or so minutes have passed, but it feels like it's been a lifetime when yoonchae finally exits the store, a plastic bag filled to the brim in her hands that she passes over once she steps back into the car.
despite having no plans to actually eat, it's instinct the way you take out the first item and immediately flip the packaging to check the calories, only to find all the information scribbled out in pen. yoonchae.
she doesn't say anything, just carefully watches from the corner of her eye as you assess her food selection.
it's a mixture of your favourite junk food and then some healthier options, like she scoured the shelves and put anything in the basket she thought you might even potentially eat. your stomach cramps painfully at the sight.
for the most part, you weren't lying about not being hungry; your appetite is mostly non existent at this point. but regardless of what you want, your body needs food, and likes to notify you of this in the most painful ways, hence the cramps.
"can you open that for me?" yoonchae asks, pointing to the packet of crisps in your hands. you're glad she doesn't mention that obvious pain you're in, even if concern is written all over her features.
you nod and pry open the packet with more force than probably necessary, the smell hitting you almost instantly. on a better day, maybe it would've appealed to you, but you feel nothing but apathy towards what you once might've called your favourite snack.
you're not stupid, you know what yoonchae's trying to do. if you open the bag, she thinks, maybe you'll feel more inclined to reach in and take a bite. just one tiny little nibble and your girlfriend will rejoice.
instead, you try to ignore her disappointed expression as you pass the bag over. there's no satisfaction on her face as she starts to eat, just an emptiness that matches how you feel.
"thanks," she mumbles through a mouthful.
when it becomes clear that you have no intention of joining her, yoonchae puts down her food, dusts off her hands, and puts the key back into ignition. "you ready to go?"
"sure."
she pulls out of the space and the two of you fall back into silence, the only sounds the hum of the car as she drives and the occasional hitch of her breath.
the world passes by in a blur of city lights, slightly disorienting but relaxing in its own way, too. you rest your head against the window, eyes fluttering shut. in retrospect, you haven't done much today, but your body feels exhausted like you've just run a marathon instead of having gone to dinner, an event that's supposed to breathe life into you instead of talking it away.
at least now you can rest.
"you know i love you, right?" yoonchae eventually breaks the silence, her voice soft and shaky. she'll lose her courage if she waits for a reply, so she continues on, "i'm sorry i got mad. i know you're struggling and the way i acted was unfair, i'm just so fucking scared. i can't loose you. the thought makes me sick, so i tense up because that's the only thing i know how to do. does that make sense?"
this time, she takes her eyes off the road to look over, only to find you've drifted off into sleep, worlds away from the conversation. she sighs. at least you look peaceful like this, cheek slightly smashed against the car door, shoulders having finally lost their tension.
you can't hear it, but she whispers the words regardless, like maybe they'll reach your subconscious and fix everything when you wake, "please don't leave me."
synopsis: after the breakup, you and daniela still kept on seeing each other, doing things exes wouldn’t usually do.
⋆ pairing: daniela avanzini x gn reader
⋆ warnings: angst (fluff in the end), ending a relationship, profanity/curse words, mentions of fire and alcohol, violence
⋆ word count: 10.7k
notes: just thought about this while listening to olivia dean’s ‘a couple minutes’ track. (highly suggest listening to that while reading, esp the colors version). this just might be my favorite piece of work ever so i hope u all enjoy! partly proof read (sorry)
it happened on a tuesday night.
inside your cozy apartment, there you sat—slumped over the couch. you just got home after a busy day at work, so you thought it would be a great idea to put on your favorite show.
desperate housewives played on the television as you munched on the chinese takeout you picked up on the way home.
tonight was not any different from the other nights you spent at your apartment. as usual, you would come home late and tired. and watching shows right after gave you a sense of comfort. a sense of ease. you had no idea why.
maybe it was because it distracted you from whatever’s going on in your head. instead of contemplating and pining over your not-so-pleasant thoughts, these shows gave you something else to think about. you get to focus more on what happens in the series rather than the problems you have to face later on in life.
though, you admit that it isn’t a great coping mechanism. but it gets the job done.
now, you were thinking whether to finish all the episodes from season 7 of desperate housewives tonight, or hop on call of duty warzone later with your friends. you basically had the whole night free since you didn’t have to go to work tomorrow (which rarely happens since your company forces its workers to be workaholics) due to a renovation happening in your workplace.
but your girlfriend seemed to have other plans.
as you were halfway through episode 5, a few soft knocks sounded from your door. you raise an eyebrow before pausing the show. you slowly stood up from the couch, cautiously making your way to the door.
you weren’t expecting anyone today. and at this time of night. you believed each step you take caused multiple hairs on your arm to stand. you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t creeped out.
“i really need to stop watching those thriller movies.” you muttered under your breath.
you got to the door, sighing nervously before glancing at the peephole.
you dramatically sighed in relief when you saw that it was just your girlfriend, daniela.
seeing your girlfriend shiver in the cold outside, you quickly unlocked the door. “baby, what are you doing here?”
“hey.”
hey? just a “hey?”
your eyebrows scrunched for a millisecond before it returned to its original state. you didn’t want to overthink the small gesture, but throughout the whole five years of your relationship, daniela had never done just that. she always greeted you by wrapping her arms around your neck whenever the both of you saw each other.
ignoring the unease settling into your mind, you opened the door wider as she stepped inside, quickly heading to the sofa.
“to what do i owe the pleasure, miss?” you say with a playful tone, closing the door and following her—plopping down on the soft foam of your couch, inching near her.
“can we talk?” she turned her head to face you, her hazel eyes meeting yours.
oh.
no. oh god, no.
the unease that was slowly creeping into your mind had made its way to your stomach. it felt like there was a bottomless pit forming inside of you. you gulp, your heart beating faster than it was a few minutes ago. it started to pump so rapidly as if it wanted to escape your ribcage.
you’re just overthinking. you tell yourself that. that she’s just going to open up to you about something—a personal problem of hers or maybe an issue she wants to talk about so the both of you can resolve it.
but this felt different. when daniela walked in, the energy of your apartment changed. instead of the homey vibe it usually gave off, the atmosphere felt suffocating. your apartment that the both of you sought comfort in, barely even felt like solace now. maybe it’s the tension that built up between you and daniela for the past weeks, but it just really felt way off—way too far from the countless moments you both spent time together here.
when daniela would come over, she always made your apartment feel more cozy. cozy in a way like she definitely belonged there. like she was meant to always come home with you.
this living room, where the two of you sit now, has experienced every night you’ve shared together. this room alone has witnessed the unfolding of your love. it had seen you and daniela long before you both developed feelings for each other. the walls of this same exact living room have gathered the echoes of your memories with your lovely girlfriend over the five years you’ve shared together. she made this place feel like home. like her presence was what your apartment needed. like she was the missing piece.
you can recall how the both of you would spend your nights laid on the couch, bodies cuddled up and pressed together while a familiar series plays in the background. the way when the both of you would come home with takeout, laying it all out on the table while you both just talk all throughout the night.
you pause your thinking for a split second—absolutely having no idea how you’re processing all these things that were entering your head. your eyes are still on daniela’s, but your mind is somewhere else. somewhere far away.
you sighed, remembering. again. trying to remember all the times you and daniela spent with each other as if you’ll forget everything. your throat tightens.
the thought of forgetting the memories and never being able to experience them with daniela again made you want to throw up.
you ponder even more. why are you even thinking about this? is it because when something’s nearing an end, you tend to think about the beginning?
you haven’t even answered her.
your eyes drift away from daniela’s, settling themselves on the kitchen.
suddenly, memories came rushing back.
especially that one night when the two of you somehow convinced yourselves that baking cookies at an ungodly hour was a brilliant idea.
well, “the two of you” might be a bit generous.
daniela had been the one actually baking. she stood at the counter, sleeves pushed up, carefully mixing the dough while you played the very important role of handing her ingredients whenever she asked. though, if you were being honest, you spent far more time admiring your girlfriend than helping her.
which was exactly why a terrible idea crossed your mind.
daniela’s attention remained fixed on the bowl in front of her, one hand steadying it while the other worked the spatula through the thickening dough. meanwhile, you quietly dipped your finger into the bag of flour, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips.
completely oblivious, she continued mixing as you sidled up beside her.
and the second she turned her head to look at you—
SWOOSH!
a streak of flour decorated her cheek.
“y/n!” daniela gasped, eyes widening in disbelief as she immediately reached for her face.
you barely had time to laugh before she grabbed a handful of flour and smeared it across yours. “ha!”
“babe!” you protested.
“hey, you started it!” she shot back. “i’m just returning the favor.”
“daniela, you practically hit me with the whole bag.” you laughed as you brushed flour from your face.
“you receive tenfold of what you give, baby.” a smug grin spread across her face. but it disappeared the moment you snatched the bag and dusted another cloud of flour over her.
“oh, it’s on.” before you could even reply, daniela already lunged for the bag.
you held it high above your head with one hand while the other wrapped around her waist to keep her close. she stretched and reached, determined to grab it, but her efforts were hopeless. being taller than your girlfriend really has its advantages.
after a moment, her arms dropped to her sides.
you smirked. she finally gave up. or so you thought.
without warning, her hands found your sides. your eyes widened. she knew exactly where you were ticklish.
“dani—”
a startled laugh escaped you as you jerked away, accidentally tilting the bag in the process. a thick cloud of flour exploded into the air. and all over both of you.
“daniela!” you cried through your laughter. “okay, okay—you win, baby!”
you quickly set the bag on the counter before she could do any more damage.
reaching for her wrists, you gently guided her arms over your shoulders instead. your hands found themselves at her waist. “i—”
“pretty smooth, right?” you ask teasingly, flashing her a grin.
she scoffed and rolled her eyes, though the smile threatening her lips gave her away.
you pulled her closer until there was barely any space left between you. for a moment, neither of you spoke. the both of you simply just stood there, covered in flour, staring at one another.
her eyes drifted to your lips. the action caused the corner of your mouth to twitch upward. before you could say anything, she rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against yours. you kissed her back instantly. and while daniela melted into the kiss, you quietly reached behind you and got a hold of the flour bag again.
she leaned in further, arms looping around your neck as she deepened the kiss. her fingers slipped into your hair as she tilted her head slightly, brushing her tongue against your lips in silent invitation. you parted your lips, but just before she could fully kiss you senseless—you dumped the rest of the flour over both of your heads. a white cloud erupted around the both of you, which broke the kiss immediately.
you remember dani’s annoyed face clear as day. the thought of that moment made you smile.
“y/n?” daniela broke the silence, snapping you out of your thoughts and quickly wiping off the small smile that made its way to your lips.
“i’m sorry.” you clear your throat, eyes meeting her once again. “what were you saying?”
she looked away.
is it bad that you were almost 100% certain what would escape her lips? not that you were anticipating it. you were just expecting it at this point so that it wouldn’t end up hurting far more in the end.
daniela stared at the lamp beside the television for a while. then she cleared her throat, still not looking at you.
“y/n, let’s break up.”
her words hit you like a speeding truck. of course, you already had a hunch on what was bound to happen, but you can’t help but hope that you were mistaken.
daniela returned her gaze on you, allowing you to see her teary eyes. maybe that was what got you.
you tore away from the eye contact, your face seeping into your hands as you started to bawl, her words finally dawning on you.
you cried even more realizing that you didn’t even ask why immediately. like you’ve already accepted it. but of course, that wasn’t the case.
“why?” was all you could mutter out. you were tired from everything—tons of workloads and inexplicable deadlines in the office, constant expectations from your family dawning on you, and of course, your relationship with daniela.
you admit, you and daniela have been rocky for a few months now. you’re not dense and you noticed it, way back when it started. you know that she also noticed how your relationship was slowly deteriorating, but never spoke up about it. the both of you never bothered to bring it up nor talk about it.
until now.
“i…” she started, a tear slipping off her cheek. “…think we’re growing apart.” she continued, moving closer to you. “i know you’ve noticed it too. instead of us growing together, it feels like we’re slowly inching away from each other.”
you sob at daniela’s words, the sound tearing itself from your throat before you could stop it. “i–”
before you could get it out of your chest, you cry even harder. your chest ached with everything you wanted to say. you remained silent for a while, not because you didn’t know the words. but because you didn’t know if you could do this.
you didn’t know if you could wake up every morning without looking forward to talking to her, or even without counting down the days until your next date. the thought of a future where daniela isn’t in it seemed so unbearable.
and it terrified you. so bad.
after months of ignoring the problem and forcing yourself to believe that the both of you were doing okay, it finally came to a moment where you would face it together.
“i’m sorry, dani.” you let out.
daniela’s shoulders immediately dropped when you said that. her left hand made its way to your lap, while the other reached for your face, wiping off the tears that dared to leave your eyes.
“you don’t have anything to be sorry for, baby.” daniela’s lips curved into a faint smile, trembling beneath the weight of the ache lodged deep in her chest. every word felt heavy, like she was forcing them past the grief threatening to swallow her whole.
“i guess it just happens,” her voice was quiet, almost fragile. “we drifted apart trying to find ourselves.”
her hand slid slowly down your side until it settled at your waist. then she pulled you closer, wrapping her arms around you as if she could somehow hold onto what was already slipping through her fingers.
“but we grew together, dani. we spent five years together. we got to experience different versions of us.” your voice cracked around the words. you let out a shaky breath, your forehead resting against her shoulder for a moment.
the silence stretched between you and her.
“i don’t want to do this, dani. i know we can go through this.” your eyes burned as you looked at her. daniela buried her face in the crook of your shoulder, her sobs muffled against the fabric of your sweater.
“y/n, i just don’t see it anymore.” she whispered, her voice trembling.
you could’ve sworn that was the fifteenth time your heart had dropped that night. each time somehow hurt more than the last. but you still managed to ask her, “see what?”
a broken sound escaped her before she answered.
“us.” the word shattered between you.
daniela cried even harder, her fingers clutching at your sweater as though she couldn’t bear to let go just yet.
“maybe we’ll end up together in the end,” she said through uneven breaths, “but i don’t think we’re supposed to continue our relationship right now.”
your chest tightened as she continued, “i just feel like we’re growing apart from each other—and that’s not a bad thing, it doesn’t mean we failed. it’s just… part of life—and i feel like we need to go our separate ways to grow even more.”
you slowly pulled away from her. not because you wanted distance, but because you wanted to see her. like you’re trying to memorize her face before you lose the ability to see.
your gaze wandered across every feature of daniela’s you had spent years loving. you looked at her as if your memory alone could preserve her, as if committing her face to your heart would somehow make losing her hurt less.
your hands rose to cup her cheeks. the moment your eyes met hers, fresh tears gathered in your own.
daniela looked so vulnerable. how could she not?
she was letting go of the love of her life.
she was letting go of you. the person who had become her home. the person who knew her more than herself. you saw her in ways no one else did.
letting you go felt like tearing down the very foundation she’d built herself upon. to daniela, it felt like setting fire to a home the both of you had spent years creating and then standing there helplessly as she watched it burn down to the ground.
it wasn’t just a loss of having a partner. it was losing the person who experienced every version of her throughout the years and still chose to stay.
and daniela knew that one day, when enough time had passed and her heart was healed enough to try again, she’d go out and meet new people. she’d learn new names, hear new stories, and maybe even fall in love again.
but she’d never stop searching for pieces of you in them.
and that was the problem. because she could never replace you. no matter how hard she tried, she would never find another y/n. she loves you too much. maybe even more than she loves herself. but she would never admit that.
daniela’s arms tightened around you, holding on as though she could somehow stop this moment from happening. her tears streamed down her cheeks as sob after sob shook through her body.
she was falling apart.
even though she was the one to initiate the break up, you never once doubted how much she loved you. not even for a second, because you know she truly did.
you saw it in the way her eyes always found yours in a crowded room. in the small things she remembered about you that everyone else wouldn’t remember. in every gentle touch, every sacrifice, every version of herself she had shared with you. you saw it in everything she did.
you saw it in her.
your arms wrapped around her, one hand cradling the back of her head as you pulled her even closer. the room fell into a painful silence, broken only by daniela’s sobs and the occasional shaky breath neither of you could steady.
she buried herself against the crook of your neck as you sat there together, clinging to each other as the truth slowly settled into your bones.
you and daniela are no longer together.
“i love you so much, y/n.” daniela whispered between broken cries.
the words shattered whatever composure you had left. a sob escaped your lips as tears blurred your vision. because that was what made this hurt so much.
it wasn’t the absence of love that had brought you here. it was the overwhelming presence of it.
you loved each other deeply—so deeply that neither of you wanted the other to stay at the cost of their own growth. loving each other meant wanting more for one another, even when it hurt.
even when it meant letting go.
“i know, baby.” you whispered, your voice trembling as your hand moved through her hair slowly. you carefully pressed a kiss against her temple and closed your eyes.
“i love you so much, dani.” the words caught in your throat.
“always.”
—
my dani: how are you?
you stared at the message for a long moment. it had already been three months since daniela walked out of your apartment with tears in her eyes and a trembling smile on her lips.
and this was the first time she reached out after that night.
your chest tightened as your gaze drifted to the contact name at the top of the screen. you haven’t even changed her contact name. you weren’t sure if you ever would.
swallowing hard, you pulled down the notification and typed a reply before you could overthink it.
you: surviving i guess
you: how about you?
the message delivered instantly. you barely had time to lock your phone before it buzzed again.
my dani: i could say the same
my dani: are you free tonight?
you raise an eyebrow after reading her message. “weird.” you mutter under your breath as you type a reply.
you: why do u ask
my dani: well i was wondering if you’d want to watch with me
my dani: horror movie marathon maybe?
you blinked. then blinked again.
you let out an audible “what?” out of confusion.
did daniela forget?
did she forget that you two are no longer together? did she somehow miss the part where the two of you had spent hours crying in each other’s arms while ending a five-year relationship?
exes weren’t supposed to do this. they weren’t supposed to text three months later asking if you wanted to watch horror movies together. they definitely weren’t supposed to sound so normal.
your mind immediately screamed the obvious answer—say no. that this is a terrible idea. that you’re not together anymore and the both of you needed to get used without the presence of each other. but unfortunately, your heart has never been very good at listening.
before you could talk yourself out of it, your fingers were already moving across the keyboard.
you: if there’s sour n cream popcorn count me in
the response came so quickly it was almost embarrassing. it was as if she had been waiting (she was) for your reply.
my dani: of course there is
my dani: come over 7 pm. let’s have dinner here :)
you stared at the smiley face longer than you should have.
you knew better. you knew this won’t help either of you move on. if anything, this will ruin all your progress within the past months (if there were any, but that’s beside the point).
you knew spending an evening sprawled up on your ex girlfriend’s couch watching horror movies was probably the dumbest thing you could do right now.
and yet, here you are—lips curved into a hopeful smile as you typed a reply.
you: alright see u :)
the moment the message got delivered, you dropped your head back against the couch and groaned. you were absolutely screwed.
a few hours later, there you were—standing in front of daniela’s apartment. your hand hovered just inches away from the door, fingers curled into a loose fist, but you couldn’t bring yourself to knock.
you hesitated. your eyes fell shut as you let out a slow breath, your forehead nearly resting against the door. and then it dawned on you.
who, in their right mind, shows up at their ex’s apartment months after ending their five-year relationship for a movie night?
this was wrong, in so many ways. and you were well aware of that, yet you came here anyway. you stood there in front of her door because despite everything that had unfolded, your feet had carried you here without giving your internally screaming mind much of a choice.
the realization made your chest ache. because despite no longer being together, daniela never truly disappeared from your life.
it was safe to say that the both of you did end the relationship on good terms, but it was definitely dangerous that your habits with daniela sure didn’t. keeping contact with your ex really has its consequences.
and didn’t she just say that the two of you needed to part ways in order to grow as separate individuals? she said the both of you had been drifting away from each other for months, just clinging to something that no longer fit the versions of yourselves you were becoming.
so why did it feel like every step away only made the both of you find your way back to each other?
your eyes continued lingering on the familiar door in front of you, still hesitating. you knew what was waiting on the other side. none other than daniela.
your chest tightened at the thought. you weren’t sure if you were ready to see her again. because the moment that door opens, you’d be reminded that she’s not your girlfriend anymore.
she’d just be daniela.
you let out a quiet sigh, forcing the restless thoughts crowding your mind into the background. they weren’t going to disappear, but you could push them aside long enough to get through this.
raising your hand, you rapped your knuckles against the door, pressing three knocks on her door.
you didn’t even think much about it.
inside, daniela stood in the kitchen, carefully arranging the food she’d spent the last hour making. the aroma of warm spices and freshly cooked rice lingered in the air as she adjusted the placement of the plates, trying to distract herself from the anxiety gnawing at her chest.
then she heard it. the three knocks.
her movements came to an abrupt halt. not because she hadn’t been expecting you (she had. she had been anticipating your arrival ever since she sent that text), but because you knocked three times.
you always did everything in threes.
three knocks on her apartment door. three gentle squeezes whenever you held her hand. three short beeps of your car horn whenever you dropped her off after a date.
daniela noticed this. and when she finally asked you why, you just shrugged with that sheepish grin she adored before answering, “that’s how i say ‘i love you’ without actually saying it.”
that memory of you admitting that surfaced so suddenly, making daniela’s chest tighten. she swallowed hard and shook her head, silently scolding herself before her thoughts wandered somewhere dangerous.
she crossed the room and reached for the doorknob, unlocking it with slightly trembling fingers.
she inhaled deeply before she opened the door. and there you were in all your glory.
standing beneath the dim hallway light in gray sweatpants and a faded navy blue hoodie that had clearly seen better days. your hair was slightly messy, your shoulders carried a weight daniela couldn’t quite name, and your gaze remained fixed somewhere off to the side—as if you were still trapped inside your own thoughts, even after arriving. for a brief moment, she simply looked at you. a small, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips.
she finally got to see you again.
not the version of you that kept on haunting her dreams every night since everything fell apart. not the ghost her mind kept recreating whenever she tried to sleep.
the real you. standing only a few feet away.
as if you sensed her stare, you slowly turned your head, eyes instantly meeting hers. the breath caught painfully in your throat. it felt as though your heart had lurched straight out of your chest.
it had been three months since the two of you had ended things. three long months without seeing your ex-girlfriend, but your heart pounded like this was the first time you ever saw her.
daniela stood quietly in the doorway, her swollen eyes meeting yours without hesitation. they were unmistakable evidence of sleepless nights and tears she tried so desperately to hide. the tip of her nose was tinted a soft pink, and despite everything, she looked lighter.
there was something different about her you couldn’t quite put into words. over the last five years, you had memorized every version of daniela—the sleepy version who mumbled nonsense every morning, the exhausted version after long workdays, the carefree version who laughed until she cried, the stubborn version who refused to admit when she was wrong, and even the vulnerable version no one ever saw but only you.
you thought you already saw every piece of her. but this was someone new—a different version of hers you definitely haven’t seen. she looked stripped bare in the most beautiful way. there were no carefully built walls, no practiced smiles trying to convince everyone she was okay.
she simply looked unguarded. and somehow, that made her even more breathtaking. even with the puffy eyes. even with the reddened nose. even after all the tears that had left her eyes.
a tiny smile found its way onto her lips, so subtle you almost missed it. without realizing it, you smiled back. the silence stretched between you for another second before daniela finally tilted her head, one brow lifting.
“so…” she said, her voice dripping with familiar sarcasm. “are you just gonna stand there and stare at me, or are you coming in? the food’s getting cold.”
a quiet laugh escaped you. “you had me at food.”
she rolled her eyes, unable to stop the soft, melodic laugh that slipped past her lips. god, there was no doubt that you had missed that laugh more than you were willing to admit.
the moment you stepped inside, the familiar scent wrapped around you like an old memory.
your favorite meal.
the rich aroma drifted through the apartment, warm and comforting, filling every corner until it settled deep inside your chest. god, you were so close to falling apart right there by the front door.
you felt like the gods above must’ve been playing with you right now—seeking entertainment and fun in toying your heart, dangling hope right in front of your face just to see if you’d reach for it.
because what does it mean when she cooked your favorite meal? she knew you were coming over. she could’ve made literally anything else. so why cook your favorite? was she trying to win you back?
because if she is, it’s definitely working.
“you cooked my favorite?” you asked quietly, following the smell into the kitchen. daniela trailed behind you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“yeah,” she answered with a casual shrug. “i already had the ingredients. couldn’t really think of anything else to make.”
you nodded absentmindedly at her response, pretending the explanation made perfect sense (it didn’t, or maybe you just wanted to believe that there was more to what met your ears).
the truth was, daniela was being honest. just not completely.
she really couldn’t think of anything else to cook. not when every thought she had these past days somehow led back to you. and knowing you were coming over, making your favorite dish felt almost instinctive.
“you sure you didn’t just miss me?” you teased, glancing sideways to catch her reaction.
daniela immediately looked up, meeting your eyes before letting out an amused laugh. “was it that obvious?” she bit back as you internally clutched your heart with that response.
this was bad. god, you knew you were going to have a hard time moving on just by that remark alone. if one playful sentence was enough to make your chest tighten like this, how were you supposed to move on?
you laughed anyway, masking the way your pulse had started racing, the uncomfortable silence following after. you wandered into the living room, letting yourself collapse onto the couch. the cushions dipped beneath your weight, and you released a long sigh as your body finally relaxed.
“long day?” daniela asked from behind you. you hummed before nodding. “when did i ever not have a long day?”
she laughed. that laugh that had been your favorite sound in the world. but now it only reminds you of everything you lost.
“you seriously need a break,” she said, carrying both plates over before carefully setting them on the coffee table. she lowered herself beside you, close enough for your shoulders to nearly brush. “i can tell you’re exhausted. your company works you to death.”
you picked up your plate, scooping up a bite without saying anything. the moment the food touched your tongue, you closed your eyes. it still tasted the same. if anything, it was even better. or did you just miss her? you were unsure.
after swallowing, you spoke almost absentmindedly.
“i actually left.” you reveal, still chewing. turning to face you, her eyes clearly blown wide. “really?” she asked, sounding a little bit too happy about your resignation from that fuckass company who worked your ass off daily.
“yeah, might be unemployed for a while.” you quirk a joke as she smiled, “that’s good.” she lets out as she pierced her fork in the chunk of beef on her plate. “what, staying unemployed?” you retort as she shook her head no, “no, no! i meant like you get to rest for a while, you know.”
your grip tightened around your fork. why did she still care like that? why did every little thing she said make it so much harder to convince yourself this was over?
across from you, she continued eating as if she hadn’t just turned your entire chest upside down. your heart still fluttered—in surprise, in confusion, in… everything! god, it was not helping you lose feelings for this woman who was sitting right across from you, casually munching on her home cooked beef risotto right in front of you like the two of you hadn’t broken up five days ago.
“i guess. i’m probably just gonna rot in bed all day.” you paused, thinking of what to say next. “how are you though?” you let out as daniela slowly placed down the ceramic bowl on the table, raising a hand, asking you to wait while she finished chewing.
“i’m doing fine,” she said as her right hand went up to her mouth, still chewing on that beef that seemed impossible to break down with her teeth. “took a break from work as well. rescheduled and declined a few shoots.” your head snapped toward her.
“what? including the harper’s bazaar one?” you ask persuasively as she nods, “you rescheduled that? the one you’ve been waiting for your whole life?” you ask again, in disbelief this time, as she just nods, laughing at the disbelief written all over your face.
“it also took a toll on me, you know?” she started, her smile softening. she continued, saying “i barely have enough energy to get out of bed every morning. what more to pose for magazine covers?” she said as she looked down on her plate, silence settling between the two of you again. this time, it felt heavier.
“when are you returning?” you finally asked, absentmindedly twirling your fork through the pasta. her eyes darted up to the ceiling, her brows furrowing as she kept on thinking.
“uh, i haven’t spoken to my manager yet. but i plan to return next week, maybe.” she answered, eyes glancing at you every now and then.
your conversation drifted from there. catching up about things that the both of you missed out on. work, future plans, her upcoming campaigns, your job applications. and before either of you realized it, dinner had ended, the empty dishes abandoned in the sink while an old horror movie flickered across the television.
surprisingly, it all felt normal. it reminded you of the days you and daniela were still friends, casually catching up with each other whenever the two of you would hang out. the thought made your heart felt like it was being squeezed.
—
you stayed on opposite ends of the couch, each with your own bowl of popcorn balanced on your lap.
there was only one blanket (which you snatched almost immediately), so you had the blanket all to yourself. the apartment was freezing, thanks to daniela refusing to turn down the air conditioner. but she insisted she was fine. for about twenty minutes.
halfway through the movie, you caught the quiet sound of her sighing. without saying a word, daniela scooted closer, reaching over to lift one side of the blanket. she tucked herself underneath it as though she had done it a thousand times before.
because she had.
you freeze at the sudden action. daniela definitely noticed, but she just shrugged it off. “what? it’s cold.”
before you could process what was happening, her shoulder brushed yours. her head rested gently against your chest, arms slipping around your waist with effortless ease.
you froze. every muscle in your body locked in place.
cold. right. that totally explained everything when she could’ve just lowered the thermostat.
this just didn’t make sense to a normal, sane person. this being you actually cuddling with your ex while watching horror movies, just like the both of you used to do when you were still together. none of this should’ve been happening.
your mind immediately began piecing everything together. she checked on you after five whole months of no contact. she even cooked your favorite meal. she somehow had your favorite popcorn even though she hated sour cream and onion with every fiber of her being. and now she was wrapped around you like she had never left you crying alone in your apartment that night.
there was no way you were imagining all of this. right? or maybe you were simply seeing what you wanted to see.
but either way, you didn’t tell her to move. you couldn’t bring yourself to. so the movie continued playing in the background while neither of you said another word. and at some point, the television became nothing more than distant noise. still tangled together beneath the blanket, sleep quietly found the both of you. it almost felt like nothing had changed.
to say that the next morning was awkward is an understatement.
—
a year had passed since that tremendous night, where daniela had fallen asleep on your shoulder, horror movies playing on the television which neither of you actually paid attention to. you swear you can still feel her arms wrapped around your waist, tangled together beneath the same blanket.
it has been a year after whatever that was. but you still haven’t recovered.
what made it worse was that daniela never reached out after that morning. not a single text. not a call. nothing. which was probably for the best, you tell yourself.
because you’d spent months trying to convince yourself that none of it had meant anything.
your phone buzzed against the mattress. you reached over absentmindedly.
daniela a.: hey
daniela a.: are you busy?
your chest tightened in shock, heart practically slipping out of your body. you stared at the messages for a long moment before letting out a heavy sigh.
without replying, you turned off your phone and tossed it somewhere across the bed. you groaned, dragging both hands down your face.
you would be lying if you said that you’d been doing well since that night. sleep came late. your appetite disappeared whenever your thoughts wandered too far. on some mornings, getting out of bed felt impossible.
seeing daniela again had done exactly what you’d been afraid it would.
it unraveled every tiny bit of progress you made. you knew better. you really did. but knowing better had never stopped you when it came to her.
another frustrated groan escaped your lips as you rubbed your eyes. your mind refused to quiet down. every possible outcome played itself over and over again until you couldn’t tell which thoughts were rational anymore.
if you saw her again, you’d only fall deeper. you knew that.
still, your eyes remained fixed on the ceiling for what felt like forever. five whole minutes passed before another vibration shattered the silence. your arm instinctively reached toward the forgotten phone.
another message.
daniela a.: y/n come pick me up please
your eyebrows shot upward when you saw her message. it was 2 o’clock in the morning, what the hell was she doing outside so late? could she be in danger?
your stomach twisted.
the worst possibilities flooded your head before you could stop them. your fingers moved before your brain caught up.
you were already out of bed before you fully processed it. you didn’t even bother changing out of your pajamas. you didn’t even think twice. you grabbed your keys, shoved your phone into your pocket, and practically sprinted toward the parking garage.
once you got inside of your car, you tapped the location pin and secured your phone onto the dashboard mount. the navigation loaded. and without another second wasted, you pulled out of the lot and sped through the nearly empty streets of los angeles.
every red light felt too long. your mind refused to stop racing.
within ten minutes, you finally arrive to where daniela’s at. the location pinned was a house. your brows furrowed in confusion and worry once more, but you grabbed your phone and headed out to go in.
the moment you pushed the front door open, flashing lights swept across your vision. music blasted from oversized speakers, making the floor vibrate beneath your clogs while strangers squeezed past each other with drinks in hand.
she was at a party.
your appearance caught the attention of a lot of people. someone shouted something at you. another person bumped your shoulder. you ignored all of it. you didn’t really pay much attention to whatever’s going on around you—just wanting to get daniela home safely.
as you were making your way through the crowd, a familiar hand stops you. “y/n?”
you turn over to see lara, who still had a loose grip around your sleeve as she leaned closer, trying to make herself heard over the music. “what are you doing here?”
you leaned toward her in return. “i’m looking for daniela!”
lara blinked once before pulling back. one eyebrow slowly lifted.
you were expecting more of a reaction from lara. after all, she’d definitely heard that you and daniela had broken up a year ago. but instead, a small, knowing smile spread across her face. one that looked far too amused.
she pointed toward the kitchen. “she’s over there.”
then her eyes wandered down your body. “nice outfit, by the way.” she laughed. you looked down at yourself for the first time since leaving your apartment. right.
you’d forgotten you were still wearing your pajamas. “thanks.” you deadpanned before turning toward the kitchen, earning another laugh from lara as you disappeared into the crowd.
making your way through the insufferable crowd was one hell of a challenge. the smell of alcohol, perfume, and sweat hung heavily in the air. and you hated every second of it. people stumbled into one another, slurring half-finished conversations over the deafening music. strangers laughed with drinks spilling over the rims of plastic cups, while others shoved past without an apology. someone nearly crashed into you, forcing you to sidestep just in time before they barreled into another group.
keeping your eyes fixed on the kitchen, you squeezed through the last cluster of people. then you saw her.
daniela. standing by the kitchen island, talking to a guy.
she hasn’t noticed you since her entire attention was on him, her eyes locked with his as she laughed freely at something he said. the sound was swallowed by the music, but you knew that laugh well enough to recognize it anywhere.
in one hand, she held a red plastic cup filled nearly to the brim with whatever they were drinking. with the other, she lightly smacked the guy’s arm, still laughing as he leaned closer to tell her something else.
you froze, your feet refusing to move. your chest tightened with an ache so sudden it almost knocked the air from your lungs.
of course you weren’t naive enough to think they were just talking. they looked comfortable, like they were enjoying each other’s company. your eyes lingered on the way she looked at him, and despite yourself, you felt something ugly settle in your stomach.
then it hit you. if she was having such a good time, why did she ask you to come all the way here in a hurry?
you stood there for another second, trying to make sense of it all. but you couldn’t. with a quiet exhale, you turned on your heel. maybe coming here was a mistake. maybe she changed her mind. maybe she didn’t need you after all.
before you could take another step, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around your waist from behind. your entire body tensed. the embrace was warm and unsteady, but unmistakably familiar.
then the scent reached you. alcohol, sweet and sharp, mixed with the unmistakable fragrance of her le labo perfume. you didn’t have to turn around to realize who was right behind you.
“manon?” the name left your lips on instinct. your hand reached for the arm wrapped securely around your waist, fingers curling around her wrist.
“i missed you!” manon slurred, her words spilling together as she hugged you even tighter. her voice was loud enough to cut through the music. loud enough to make the two people turn around.
daniela’s smile disappeared the second her eyes landed on you. more specifically on manon.
the red cup slipped from her attention as she set it down on the counter without looking, her gaze locked on the woman clinging to you. for a split second—she simply stared, her expression unreadable. “y/n?”
manon, blissfully unaware of the storm she had just created, leaned around your shoulder and planted a sloppy kiss against your cheek. “let’s have some fun, baby!”
your entire body stiffened at manon’s words. you didn’t even react. you couldn’t. your eyes stayed on daniela the entire time, and oh she looked furious.
before you could process anything, she was already moving.
“absolutely not.” daniela said, voice sharp enough to cut through the music. she didn’t even spare another glance at the guy she had been talking to. she didn’t acknowledge anyone else in the room, walking straight towards you and manon.
before either of you could react, daniela grabbed manon’s wrists and peeled her arms away from your waist. the shove that followed wasn’t hard enough to hurt—just enough to create distance.
manon stumbled back, letting out an offended scoff. “what’s your problem?”
“my problem?” daniela repeated, letting out a humorless laugh. “you’re the problem!” she pointed her finger directly at manon, “your problem is you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” before you could even blink, daniela slipped her hand into yours, fingers intertwining automatically like muscle memory.
manon let out another incredulous laugh. “stop acting like you own her!” her words slurred together as she pointed accusingly at daniela. “you two aren’t even together anymore, so why the hell are you acting like you still are?”
the music hadn’t gotten any quieter, but the room definitely had. the conversations around you slowly died. people had now started watching the scene unfold right in front of them. people were nudging their friends, lifting their phones, but you barely even noticed. your pulse was pounding too loudly in your ears.
before manon could get another word out, the sound echoed far louder than it should have.
SMACK!
manon’s head snapped sideways.
daniela lowered her hand slowly, her breathing uneven. and when she spoke again, her voice was dangerously quiet. “don’t you ever think you have the right to speak about our relationship.”
without another word, she tightened her grip around your hand.
“come on.” daniela pulled you through the crowd before anyone had the chance to stop either of you. you barely had time to register what had happened. the crowd swallowed the commotion behind you as daniela continued dragging you toward the front door.
the both of you finally made it out after surging through the tough crowd. the music became muffled once the front door closed behind you. you inhaled deeply, finally letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. you glance down at your hands, seeing daniela’s intertwined with them.
daniela noticed your gaze and immediately let go of your hand.
“what was that?” you finally asked as she looked up at you, raising an eyebrow. “what was what?”
you stared at her. seriously?
rolling your eyes, you turned and started walking toward your car. “wait— y/n!”
her footsteps hurried after you. a second later, her hand wrapped gently around your arm. you stopped, turning to face her.
“don’t act dumb, daniela. what happened back there, what was that?” your voice came out calmer than you felt. her mouth opened but not a single word came out of her mouth. you nodded once, clenching your jaw so tight.
“is this some fucking game to you, dani?” you ask again, even more aggressive now. “what you did back there was unnecessary!”
“of course. you’re siding with that bitch.” daniela rolled her eyes as she turned away and headed toward the passenger side of your car. before she could open the door, you stepped forward and pushed it shut, the metallic clang echoing through the quiet street.
daniela looked back at you as you turned her gently until she was facing you again.
“you made me go here for what?” you ask her, voice cracking despite your efforts to stay composed. “i wanted to go home.” she replied blatantly.
the answer came so simply and stupid it almost made you laugh. because who the fuck, in the right mind, calls their ex after a year they broke up just to be picked up from a house party?
“really? because it didn’t exactly look like it.” you gestured back toward the house. “your hands seemed pretty comfortable all over that guy.” you deadpanned as one of her eyebrows lifted.
“jealous?”
“are you stupid?” you returned the question as she looked genuinely caught off guard. “what?” she lets out a confused laugh.
“daniela,” your hands landed on your hips, “it’s 3 in the fucking morning. you made me worry and drive all the way here to… what?” you pause as your throat tightened. “...to see you flirting with another dude?” your voice shook as you started to pace around, unable to stand still anymore.
daniela stayed silent. of course she did.
you let out a hollow scoff. suddenly you felt ridiculous now that it was dawning on you. you probably seemed so pathetic to everyone—rushing across the city in pajamas because one text from your ex was enough to send you into a panic. you were there to pick your ex girlfriend up from a party she clearly didn’t want to leave. and now you’re here, pacing around in the middle of the road trying not to break down in front of her.
“this…” you pointed between the two of you, “...is stupid.” you took a slow step backward, but before you could even take a second, daniela immediately surged towards you, her hand slithering up to your neck as she pulled you into a kiss.
everything else faded away—the music, the party, the anger, the confusion. all of it melted away the second your lips met hers.
your arms found her waist as she sighed softly against your lips. you pulled her closer until her back met the side of your car. your hands instinctively settled against her hips before slipping lower.
when you finally pulled away, the both of you were breathing hard. daniela cupped your face with both hands, eyes searching yours. “i still love you, y/n.”
the words settled between you. it was heavy and terrifying which made you step back.
“get in.” you deadpanned as daniela’s face dropped, her hands slowly slipping away from your face. the hurt that flashed across her expression was almost enough to make you take the words back.
you opened the passenger door, and she climbed inside without another word. without wasting a second, you headed to the driver’s seat—starting the engine and pulling away from the curb.
every few seconds, your eyes drifted toward her before returning to the road. daniela curled herself against the passenger door, knees tucked up to her chest as she faced the window. a few minutes passed before you heard it—a quiet sniffle, and then another followed.
you let out a weary sigh. “you alright?” you asked softly, reaching over to rest a hand against her back. she immediately squirmed away from your touch, hugging herself tighter.
“how can i be?” she mumbled, her voice trembling. “you don’t love me anymore.”
before you could stop yourself, the corner of your mouth lifted into the smallest smile. it disappeared just as quickly when reality settled back in.
she wasn’t sober.
you slowly pulled your hand away and returned it to the steering wheel. “you’re drunk, daniela.” you said flatly. she turned to face you, frowning. “i’m not, i didn’t even finish my drink!” she protested.
another sigh escaped your lips. that’s what you wanted to believe, anyway. that it was the alcohol talking. that it was the reason why she asked you to pick her up, the reason she pulled you into a kiss, the reason she had gotten jealous over manon’s arms around your waist, and the reason why she confessed that she still loved you.
because if she wasn’t drunk, then none of this made any sense.
she kept pulling you close only to push you away again, leaving you to untangle feelings you were never given the chance to understand. it felt like she was holding your heart in her hands, squeezing just enough to remind you that she’s still the one who has it.
you didn’t trust yourself to say anything else. instead, you just tightened your grip around the steering wheel and kept your eyes fixed on the road, stealing only the occasional glance at the woman beside you, who had gone quiet once more, curled up in her seat.
less than twenty minutes later, you pulled into the parking lot of daniela’s apartment complex.
you killed the engine and immediately climbed out, making your way around to the passenger side. through the window, you found her exactly as expected. fast asleep.
"unbelievable.” you muttered under your breath.
opening the door, you leaned inside and slipped one arm beneath her knees while the other supported her back. with a quiet grunt, you lifted her into your arms with surprising ease. she instinctively curled closer, mumbling something completely incoherent before resting her head against your shoulder again. you nudged the car door shut with your foot.
“must be nice, causing emotional damage then sleeping like a baby.” you mumbled to yourself.
the walk to her apartment was thankfully uneventful. by some miracle, you haven’t tripped, stumbled, or ended up face-first on the pavement.
standing in front of her door, however, was an exception. you immediately ran into another problem. you shifted her weight onto one arm and reached for the doorknob. it was locked.
“of course it’s locked.”
you let your forehead fall lightly against the door before trying again, except this time daniela’s forehead bumped into it instead. she let out a tiny groan. you couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped you.
“daniela.” you called her name, but it was no use.
“dani, wake the fuck up.” you called once more, voice a little louder. this time she stirred, lifting her head just enough to blink sleepily at you. her eyes found yours almost instantly, a lazy smile spreading across her face. before you could ask her about that damn key, her head dropped right back onto your shoulder. she was out cold.
“you fell asleep again? oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” you groaned as you stared at the ceiling for a long second.
“daniela, where is your key?” you tried one last time, adjusting your grip. you bounced her gently in your arms, hoping she’d wake up long enough to answer. instead, she only snuggled closer.
“fantastic.” another long groan left your lips.
accepting defeat, you carried her back to the elevator, down to the parking garage, and carefully settled her back into the passenger seat. after buckling her seatbelt, you shut the door a little harder than necessary.
“i should’ve fucking left your ass in front of that door.” you muttered to yourself as you walked to the driver’s seat. you absolutely wouldn’t have, but thinking it made you feel a little better.
the drive back to your apartment was even quieter than before. daniela had surprisingly managed to sleep through every turn, every stoplight, every bump in the road.
once you arrived, you carried her upstairs again, balancing her weight with practiced ease while unlocking your apartment. the door clicked open as you step in, nudging it shut behind you with your foot before heading straight for your bedroom.
you laid her down gently on your bed. she sighed contentedly the moment her head met the pillow. you knelt beside the bed, carefully slipping her heels off one by one before pulling the blanket over her shoulders.
you stood there for a moment longer than you should have.
quietly closing the bedroom door behind you, you wandered into the living room and collapsed onto the couch, cushions welcoming you almost instantly. you were exhausted—from the drive, the party, the argument, the kiss, and carrying daniela across two parking lots at 3 in the morning.
it was too much to bear it was hurting your mind, so you just pushed the thoughts aside, sleep claiming you before another thought had the chance to cross your mind.
—
the next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting warm streaks of light across the bedroom as daniela slowly opened her eyes. for a moment, she simply stared at the ceiling before the corners of her lips curved into a satisfied smile.
her plan had actually worked.
pretending to fall asleep had been a gamble, but one look around the room told her everything she needed to know. she was in your bedroom.
she let out the quietest laugh, sitting up and stretching her arms above her head. instinctively, her eyes wandered to the other side of the bed. her smile faltered after seeing the other side was empty.
she frowned, slipping off the mattress before quietly opening the bedroom door.
and there you were, completely passed out on the couch, one arm hanging off the edge while your phone rested dangerously close to falling onto the floor. she couldn’t help smiling again.
“idiot.” she whispered fondly.
a few hours later, your eyes finally fluttered open. the first thing you reached for was your phone.
2:17 p.m.
“shit.” you shot upright so fast your neck immediately protested. you hurried toward your bedroom.
you pushed the door open and your heart dropped. the bed was neatly made, blanket folded—absolutely not even a single sign that daniela had ever been there.
she left.
of course she did. you stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty room.
you didn’t know why disappointment settled so heavily in your chest. what were you expecting? a note? a text? some kind of explanation?
you almost laughed at yourself. god, you felt so pathetic with everything dawning on you now. she already left you once, so why were you surprised she’d leave again? with a quiet sigh and your shoulders dropped, you closed the bedroom door.
only to come face-to-face with daniela.
she had just stepped out of your bathroom, drying her hair on a towel. the two of you froze—eyes meeting, yet neither of you spoke. and before you could even open your mouth to say something, the words came so quickly they barely had time to register.
“i still love you, y/n.” daniela said as she took a step toward you, her gaze never leaving yours. “and don’t you dare tell me it was because i was drunk, because i’m very sober now.”
she stopped just in front of you. “and i still mean every single word.”
—
it has been two years since you and daniela broke up.
summer had settled comfortably over los angeles, the afternoon sun warming the city in a way that somehow never felt unbearable. you sat beneath a beige patio umbrella outside your favorite café, a half-finished spanish latté resting on the table in front of you. despite the shade, golden rays still found their way across your arms, wrapping everything in a familiar warmth. you leaned back in your chair with a quiet sigh, setting your phone down before letting your gaze wander.
the streets buzzed with life. people laughed as they walked by, cars crawled lazily through the intersection, and somewhere nearby, someone was playing music just loud enough to blend into the city’s endless hum. without thinking, you reached for your phone again and snapped a picture of the view.
the tiny bells hanging above the café door chimed behind you.
“i swear, they took forever.” you looked up just in time to see your fiancée making her way toward the table, balancing a tray piled embarrassingly high with pastries. you couldn’t help but laugh, making daniela narrow her eyes. “don’t start.”
“i wasn’t gonna say anything.” you defend yourself as she glared at you, “yes, you were.” daniela deadpanned.
you pointed toward the tray, “i was just wondering if they even have any pastries left inside.”
her jaw dropped dramatically. “excuse me?”
“i mean,” you glanced over the assortment of croissants, pain au chocolat, cinnamon rolls, fruit tarts, and éclairs. “you practically cleared the display.”
daniela gasped, placing a hand over her chest. “are you calling me greedy?”
you laughed, raising your hands in surrender. “i didn’t say anything.”
she rolled her eyes before pushing the tray toward the middle of the table. without another word, she happily reached for an éclair while you picked up a buttery croissant. the moment she took a bite, her entire face lit up.
“baby,” before you even had the chance to taste your own pastry, she held the éclair up to your mouth. “try this.” daniela said as you looked at her, then at the diamond ring resting on her finger. sunlight caught the stone, scattering tiny reflections across the table. and for a brief second, your mind drifted.
“take a bite.” daniela called out as you snapped out of your thoughts. a smile tugged at your lips as you leaned forward, taking a bite from the pastry she was holding. your eyebrows lifted immediately. you nodded, still chewing. “that’s really good.”
“right? it tastes exactly like the éclair we had in paris.” she grinned as you laughed softly. she took another bite before pointing at you with the pastry.
“oh, speaking of…” she trailed off, “have you booked our flight to the maldives? with the hotel and everything?” daniela asked as you hummed. “yes darling, everything has been booked. i also forwarded the itinerary to your email earlier.”
she looked relieved. “perfect! i’m so excited.”
the conversation drifted somewhere else after that. but somewhere between her rambling and the sound of traffic passing by, your thoughts quietly wandered.
two years ago, you were just lying awake in bed every night, mourning a future you thought you lost forever. back then, you convinced yourself that life without daniela was something you’d eventually have to accept. you mourned a future that, at the time, felt impossibly out of reach.
and now, here she was—wearing the ring you had slipped onto her finger. she’s right there, sitting across from you, stealing bites from your croissant despite having enough pastries to feed an entire neighbourhood while asking you about your preferred honeymoon destinations.
you smiled to yourself. life was funny like that.
sometimes you mourn a future so intensely that you fail to notice another one quietly waiting for you.
you were someone who never believed in second chances. if someone wasted the first chance, why would you give them another? you figured that they made their choice.
but daniela was different. the year apart had changed both of you. she really thought everything through. that one whole year of space made it clear to her that she doesn’t want anything else other than a future with you, even if it contradicted her words.
and when she stood in your apartment, looked you in the eyes and said “i still love you,” you just knew you were a goner for her. you were done telling yourself you didn’t feel the same.
maybe some people leave because they were meant to. maybe others come back to serve a sense of purpose. you didn’t know which one was true. but one thing you do know is that daniela was never really gone. not from your heart, not from the future you kept hoping for.
despite being a firm believer that second chances are dumb, giving your relationship another try was probably the best decision you’ve ever made your whole life. it wasn’t something that worked for everyone, but it made everything fall into place for you and her.
“what are you smiling about?” daniela’s voice pulled you back. you looked at her.
then you reached across the table, intertwining your fingers with hers. “nothing.” you smiled, “just thinking i got pretty lucky.”
synopsis . . . after a bitter and chaotic divorce, daniela and you can’t stand being in the same room — but for the sake of your little girl, you would do anything, including agree to couple’s therapy. it starts with weekly sessions of torture that relives the past and turns into the discovery that hate isn’t always the opposite of love.
contains . . . angst, suggestive, dani w/ children 💓
word account . . . 2.9k
masterlist. previous. next.
the ride after the session felt like a blur. all the memories came back to you in a flash: the pain, the betrayal, the constant frustration you felt every time daniela apologized and you couldn’t find it in yourself to forgive her. or perhaps you were scared, too scared to let her know you still loved her enough to want her after the fights, the cheating, through everything, especially after her words, the way she threw it in your face about how you had ruined her life. the words were taken back, but not forgotten. in the back of your mind, they still echoed every single time you thought about her.
she arrived just in time to pick up elena that night. you opened the door and there she was, hat turned backward, her usual hoodie and a cross necklace, no makeup, just her awkward smile.
“lena is ready?”
“she’s finishing packing up,” you answered quicker than you intended to, avoiding her eyes.
“okay.” daniela breathed, looking down at her sides as she waited.
it was awkward. the wound from the session earlier still burned heavily between you. elena would be downstairs in a minute and you didn’t want to start a fight by asking anything. yet it slipped out of your lips.
“you wanna come in?” you quickly added. “to wait for lena.”
daniela stepped into your house, her movements a little stiff as she looked around. the walls used to have pictures of both of you. now they were only of lena, some containing you too, laughing, holding your daughter in your arms, but not daniela anywhere in sight.
daniela wondered if one day there would be another person’s pictures all over your walls with her daughter. the mere thought of it stung more than she would ever acknowledge.
she went to the living room and sat down on the couch. she touched the necklace, something that often seemed to give her comfort for some reason. you followed after her in quiet steps.
“lena! sweetheart, mami is here!” you yelled for elena upstairs, hearing her little steps on the upper floor going faster as she ran around packing up. probably just choosing the stuffed animal she wanted.
daniela bounced her feet on the floor, the memories of the session just hours ago still too fresh for her to dare look at you. you knew she felt shame for what she did. you felt it too.
“want some coffee?” you heard yourself saying. there was such casualness in your words, definitely not what you felt at the moment.
daniela looked up at you. after today, she wasn’t sure you were trustworthy enough not to poison her coffee.
“coffee?” she echoed.
“yes.”
she sighed, then swallowed way too harshly. she opened her mouth and closed it a few times, not knowing exactly what to say.
“it’s just coffee. yes or no?” you rolled your eyes. there it was, the annoying, expectant voice of her ex-wife. daniela almost sighed with relief at your now normal behavior. she was way too used to you being irritated and upset with her. after today especially, it would be way too weird for you to be nice.
“no, i’m good,” she said.
“okay,” you answered.
the silence was too loud, nothing but elena’s soft steps upstairs. daniela kept her leg bouncing on the floor, anxious, nervous perhaps. she couldn’t look at your face, so she focused on the picture above the coffee table. you and elena in a zoo. you were holding her in your arms and behind you there was an elephant, unaware of the picture, of course. daniela had taken that picture. she was there that day. it had been such a happy, amazing day.
elena had lost her favorite stuffed animal, a bunny gifted by daniela’s mother years ago. elena carried the toy everywhere and couldn’t sleep without it. it was a nightmare. she was so stressed, couldn’t sleep. you and daniela tried to be patient, then tried to be serious and then harsh, but days passed and elena still couldn’t sleep through the whole night.
on saturday, dani woke up in a good mood for no specific reason. she woke you up with kisses on your face and told you to get ready to take elena for a little walk. she went to elena’s room and found the little girl awake, eyes puffy and slightly red. she sat by the edge of the bed and to this day she couldn’t forget what lena told her.
“please don’t be mad i’m awake,” she mumbled, her voice sleepy, a little grumpy.
“i’m not mad,” dani said softly. her fingers found one of the messy curly strands of lena’s mane and put it behind her ear. “it’s just… you have so many other toys to hug at night, sweetie. don’t you think you should try one of them out? just for a night?”
“you have mama to hug at night. would you try another out?” she had a little mischievous smile and daniela’s eyes widened as she gave a nervous laugh.
“you got me, you little brat.”
she remembered well the way lena really laughed for the first time in days at her own joke. she was her mother’s daughter, after all.
after breakfast, daniela drove all of you to the zoo. elena was happy, yes, but dani remembered more of your happiness, the way you looked at her, far more than love in your sparkling eyes. admiration, perhaps, even pride. she had solved the problem, she had been a good, great parent and had both you and your little girl smiling to the wind, with something so simple and special as family bonding time.
she bought ice cream for all of you. lena had chocolate, you had strawberry and daniela had vanilla. she passed an arm around your shoulders as you walked to the next exhibition.
“it’s good?” she asked, signaling to the ice cream in your hand.
“perfect.” you nodded. she gave you a kiss on the cheek, so casual, so intimate, so natural for her.
you looked at her.
your expression… the very same expression she had seen the day elena was brought into this world, just a little softer, without your hair damp and the exhaustion on your face. the very same expression she saw the other day as you read lena a bedtime story, the same one you had when she bought you flowers on your first real date. the look of love, they said. it had the corners of your lips turned upwards, the fondness and warmth in your gaze making her feel that familiar pride in her chest, the pride of deserving it, deserving your dilated pupils, your gaze, to have your heart beating faster and your soft smile, to have your love, your rage, and every emotion, just because you cared enough.
“you’re making that face again,” daniela observed, an almost shy smile touching her glossed lips.
“am i?” you teased, then chuckled, giving your ice cream another lick. the sweet flavor would be tasted by daniela in minutes, from your own lips. at the moment, though, elena called, amazed by the elephants drinking water a few meters away. daniela took a few pictures of you and lena, then asked an old lady to take a picture of the three of you.
the last picture, however, wasn’t there.
she wasn’t there, not a single picture of her on the walls. she had been washed away from your house, and she knew you wished she had been washed away from your life. she wished the same for you. she would like to feel that way, at least, but the roots of her hate lay in the fact that you hated her.
elena went downstairs seconds later, her pigtails wagging as she jumped into daniela’s arms with her pink and yellow backpack. her smile, with missing teeth, was what eased the tension in the room. soon enough, you found yourself alone in the house again, watching as daniela’s car drove away from your street, elena – who you had kissed on the cheeks enough times for her to be annoyed – safely sitting in the backseat.
you poured yourself some wine and sat down on the white couch, the same place daniela had taken minutes ago. you missed the sound of little steps patting the floor, her careless laughter, and for a second you missed daniela too, her hummed spanish songs as she showered or brushed lena’s hair, her enthusiastic yapping whenever she was feeling more talkative, her gentle voice calling you “mi cielo”, urging you to hurry to bed.
in daniela’s new apartment, however, silence wasn’t an option. megan, her best friend, who happened to be her new neighbor since daniela had moved in, had decided to come for a quick visit, just to check on elena after the week without her. it resulted in an entire hour of video game sessions while daniela made elena dinner — now for megan too.
“it’s getting late… lena needs to sleep.”
“just one more round, mami,” lena begged. megan, by her side, only nodded.
“yeah, mami, one more round.”
daniela rolled her eyes, but had a fond smile on her face.
when she finally managed to get elena into bed and megan out of her apartment, it was 11 pm. elena was still full of energy, so dani decided to read her a book: candy, the cat.
elena’s room was still a work in progress. she had her bed, a few clothes, her pink lampshade, her decorating stars shining on the ceiling. something still felt off to daniela, like something was missing. perhaps something that only you could notice and change. she would never know. she would never ask.
however, it was pleasant enough, like the scent of elena’s apple shampoo as the girl played with her doll’s hair by dani’s side. she was at that age when her body didn’t stay still, and dani found it so adorable how her bare feet kept swinging in the air.
“mami.”
“yes?”
she was in the middle of the book, right before candy the cat leaves the forest. elena’s eyes were on the beautiful, caricature drawings all over the pages. her body felt tired, and she hoped that elena wouldn’t still be fully awake and energetic by the time the drawings lost their captivity and the story reached its happy ending.
“what size is a kitten when it’s born?”
“mmh… pretty small, it fits in a hand.”
“my hand or your hand?”
“my hand.”
elena caught one of daniela’s hands. it looked bigger compared to her own, chubby and small. she examined it for a minute.
“hmm… what size was i when i was born?”
daniela smiled at the very memory. she let the book rest on her lap and put both her hands side by side.
“hmm. about this size. pretty small too.”
elena chuckled softly. she rested her head on dani’s shoulder and looked at her mother’s hands together.
“cats are born bald?”
“yes. so were you.”
daniela’s smile was devoted as she heard her daughter laugh again, the soft sound a balm to any stress she had felt the entire day.
“mama said i was born like you.”
“yeah? i bet that makes her crazy, hm?”
“mmh… no.” the little girl’s tone was naive, innocent, unaware of the nature of her mami’s question. “she likes it, she said.”
and then something changed. dani’s smile dropped, her heart beat faster. she blinked a few times, trying to process the simple words in her mind.
you liked it. you liked that elena was just like her other mother. you didn’t hate daniela.
“really?”
“uhum.” lena’s feet kept bouncing in the air, her little hands still fumbling with her doll’s hair, her eyes on the engravings of the book, so full of color and humanlike animals. “she said she likes it when i remind her of you…”
her heart stopped for a moment. a sense of realization came into her eyes. elena didn’t seem to notice, thankfully, how her mami’s demeanor had changed. the memories of you saying you hated daniela, the memories of screams and shouts, old familiar fights, some that happened over and over again like an old script you both kept repeating for the sake of your own pride… it added new light to that same old feeling. you didn’t hate her. how could you, when you had birthed a smaller and softer version of her? dani couldn’t hide the smile on her face.
elena took a little longer to fall asleep. daniela felt like she would take forever to fall asleep herself as she lay on her own bed. above the bedside table rested a lampshade, a few sleeping pills, her watch and her phone, which seemed to call for her.
moved by whatever impulse, she picked it up quickly, without thinking much. she searched your contact name. she hit the call button and regretted it the very second it started ringing. she would have hung up, if you hadn’t picked up so fast.
“hello?” your voice was still raspy, as if you had been quiet for a long time. yet you didn’t sound sleepy. you had been wide awake.
“hello,” daniela answered.
“what happened? is elena okay?”
“yeah, she’s okay, she’s asleep,” she quickly reassured you. “i just thought that we could talk about today’s session.”
she heard your sigh through the phone.
“we shouldn’t talk about this outside therapy.”
“why not? it’s our relationship.”
“daniela—”
“c’mon.” she caught herself frowning again, but breathed out, closing her eyes for a second, reminding herself of the words elena had said earlier, naively. “just… i don’t think it’s fair. the question was for both of us. only i answered. when did you notice our marriage ended?”
“that was not the question.”
“whatever, same thing.”
daniela noticed herself losing patience as the seconds ticked by. you had the same effect on her as you did before, making her eyes roll and the immature side of her surface like nothing else could.
“you’re gonna think it’s stupid.” your voice sounded… suddenly small. sweet, even, if daniela listened closely enough. this caught her off guard. the same old feeling she had of wanting to comfort your broken heart and make you cry at the same time welcomed her like an old friend, never really gone. she had to take a second to answer.
“i won’t. just tell me.” it sounded real enough.
she listened to the sound of your breathing for another minute. she didn’t press harder. daniela didn’t dare breathe too loudly. she stayed still, practically listening to the sound of the engines running in your head.
“lena’s sixth birthday.” your voice was a whisper, but it was there. “she wanted a big party with princess sofia’s theme.” a pause. “and she had it, remember? there were so many kids in our courtyard i thought it would never end.”
a fond, even soft smile reached daniela’s lips. she remembered it like yesterday: elena running to her with her pretty, glittery lilac dress, all of her little classmates getting their clothes dirty and their mothers mad as they ran all over the grass. you, in all the glory that an exhausted, overwhelmed and yet gentle host could have. even then, pretty in daniela’s eyes.
“i remember.”
“yeah… well… it was a good day.” another pause. “do you remember the guy from your job that you invited at the last minute because his car broke or something?”
“yeah… mark.” daniela answered slowly. “what about him?”
another silence. longer this time.
“you introduced me to him.”
daniela frowned, trying to remember. there had been so many people that day. kids running everywhere, parents talking, balloons, cake, music. she remembered you moving around the courtyard like a storm, making sure everyone had food, drinks, plates.
“i mean… yeah, probably.” she said carefully. “why?”
you let out a quiet breath.
“you said: ‘this is elena’s other mom.’”
daniela blinked.
“that’s it?” she asked, not accusatory, just confused. “i mean… you are elena’s other mom.”
“yeah.” you agreed softly. “i am.” another pause. “but that was it.”
daniela stayed quiet now.
“you didn’t say my name.” you continued. “you didn’t say i was your wife. you didn’t even look at me when you said it. you just… pointed at me like i was part of the decoration.”
daniela felt something tighten in her chest.
“i didn’t mean—”
“i know.” you cut in gently. “that’s the thing.”
your voice sounded tired now, but calm. too calm.
“you didn’t mean anything by it. that’s when i realized.”
daniela swallowed.
“realized what?”
another small breath on the other side of the line.
“that somewhere along the way… i stopped being your partner.”
the words landed slowly between you.
“i was just… elena’s other parent.”
daniela didn’t answer.
she remembered the moment now. the sun that day. the smell of grass. the sound of kids screaming while running through the yard. you standing next to her with frosting on your fingers from cutting the cake.
she had been distracted. she didn't notice your sad eyes, your tight smile, your body language pushing her away, how you went quiet after, scrolling through your phone, she thought it was about last night's fight, she thought you were being annoying, resentful, as you usually were, she never noticed, she never thought about it again.
daniela’s voice came out lower than before.
“is that when you knew?”
“yeah, not that day exactly.” you admitted. “i just... i don't know, i just never forgot that.”
daniela rubbed her hand over her face, she didn’t know what to say, she felt sorry, annoyed, but mostly, she felt sorry, before she could even process it, it slipped through her lips.
“i didn’t mean to hurt you.” it was a whisper, a secret she couldn’t say it out loud, a sound that, over the phone, you barely could tell if it was real or not.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Angst if you squint, Manon Hiatus, Gay Yearning...
WORD COUNT: 1,113
SUMMARY: You and manon had never been a thing, not really. But you were always something. Her hiatus is hard, celebrating a win without her? Impossible
You and Manon had never really been a thing, not officially. Stolen moments and hidden glances became your normal and you always found a reason to be beside each other.
The second you had met in dream there was a connection, a pull that neither of you could ignore but were too afraid to act on.
In the whirlwind of dream and the first year of Katseye there was never time to truly think about how you both felt, you just simply felt and moved on instinct. You were in sync from day one, always aware of the others needs and wants.
You were like magnets, always close always touching. Nights spent on the couch sharing secrets, cuddling during movies, and falling asleep on each other. It was comfortable, safe.
The two of you had worked up a perfect routine, that slotted right into the daily schedules and life with the girls and when it came to moving out of the dorm it wasn’t even a question that you would go with her. The girls never thought anything about it, you two were just close friends after all, the closest.
Things were great, the groups success was growing, and you were scheduled to play at Coachella. Then it happened…Hiatus. The six of you would be promoting and performing while Manon sat out. It was devastating.
Manon had decided to take the Hiatus as time to go back to Switzerland and her family which left a cold, quiet and empty house for you and a lonely work life. Of course, you had the other five girls, but it just wasn’t the same. Not without her.
The girls tried to include you; coffee trips with Lara, lives with Megan and Yoonchae, cooking with Sophia, even late-night drives with Dani.
You engaged with them; you smiled and talked but they could tell it wasn’t what you needed. What you needed was your girl. Even if no one said it, they had all started to see just how much Manon was to you. She was a rock, a lifeline, a constant.
Manon wasn’t doing much better, after the initial buzz of going home wore off she felt the empty tug of your absence and her whole body filled with longing. The more events you guys went to, the more promos she saw, the longer she was away from you the worse she felt.
Being left out of schedule she was excited for was one thing, but when the hiatus was extended and she realised her Coachella dreams were over, it crushed her.
Coachella had been such a big dream of hers, and the idea she would get to live that dream with you, and the girls, meant so much to her. Now that was all gone, and you weren’t even there to make it all better. She felt alone, and helpless and all she could do was watch you and the girls.
When Coachella came round, she had to go, for you. Of course, there was that gnawing sadness at not being up there with the six of you. But watching you on that stage she was in awe. At least till the MIA outro happened.
She felt a feeling of dread and burning in her chest the second Lara’s hands were on you. Watching the two of you smirk, and giggle as she touches you it was just too much.
After that, every clip of you with one of them, watching you lean into them or laugh at their jokes. Every thought of you needing them like she needed you, the thought of you moving on before the two of you ever started broke her.
Then came the events, it was hard for her watching you guys shine while she was hidden away. She didn’t want to watch, but she couldn’t not support you. It seemed like an endless loop of hurt, not that she ever mentioned it. Honestly, her radio silence was hell for both of you.
AMAs was a big event, and you were beyond excited to attend. Your outfit had been so beautifully designed to match Megan’s while complementing the dresses of the other four.
You were a bundle of nerves the whole night, hand latched with Megan’s and Sophia’s for support to stop the shaking. You had never wished for your lifeline more, craving Manon’s guiding and grounding touch.
When you were announced as winners, everything happened in a blur like slow motion. Your mind felt disconnected from your body. You were beyond happy, of course, but going up there doing speeches, winning an award it all made you nauseous.
When it was all over? You were honestly still reeling. The after party was in full swing, drinks flowing and people dancing and yet all you could think about was being anywhere else.
Well, somewhere else. With someone in particular. You watched the girls have fun and smiles before shooting a quick text to Sophia, not caring she wouldn’t see it straight away. Then you left, one thing on your mind.
Getting into your car you drove off, heading to the one place you knew by heart. The one place you felt at ease, home.
The drive went by fast, Manon being the only thing on your mind. Pulling up in the driveway you got out the car, practically running to the door before knocking on it.
At first there was no answer, and you were starting to get worried she was out and this was a desperate move. But then you heard the footsteps on the stairs and let out a nervous breath as the door opened.
There she was, Manon. Standing there, eyes half closed, baggy tee hanging just off of her shoulder and a confused pout on her pretty lips, sleep clinging to her like she just woke up. God, you needed her.
“Y/n..?” She mumbles, a confused whine clinging to her words. “W-what time is it? Shouldn’t you be at-“
You don’t let her finish, you act on impulse rushing forward to capture her lips with your own. She hums, freezing for a second as she stumbles slightly before her brain catches up and she grins into the kiss before kissing back eagerly. Her hands grabbing your hips and pulling you against her as she has her turn claiming your lips.
You stay like that, wrapped up in each other as you kiss on her doorstep in your own bubble of love and need. Neither of you thinking about closing the door or getting out of sight or the risk of someone seeing and snapping a pic. All that mattered in that moment was the two of you.
