she’s a social media influencer in Toronto. her and ernie have done a few interviews and stuff together & are secretly dating (friends know, just not fans) with their fans shipping them
she’s invited to throw out the first pitch at the game & ernie catches it
your phone is glowing on the nightstand, screen buzzing over and over, pale light catching on the rumpled white sheets twisted around your ankle. you’re lying on your stomach, cheek pressed to the pillow that smells like detergent and a little like him—like the warmth of skin and the crisp tang of last night’s cologne. your finger scrolls through tiktok, the sound off but the captions rolling by in frantic all-caps: “so are they or aren’t they??” “ernie clement did NOT just drop the fire emojis under her thirst trap.” “i’m so here for this ship.”
you press your face harder into the pillow to stifle the laugh bubbling in your chest, because the bed dips behind you and you feel his hand flatten between your shoulder blades. his palm is dry and warm, trailing slow down your spine until his thumb hooks in the waistband of your sleep shorts. he’s not even awake awake yet—you can tell by the way he hums, low and scratchy, before clearing his throat and mumbling something you can’t quite catch. the beard scrapes lightly along your shoulder when he shifts closer.
you lift your phone just enough for him to see. “congratulations,” you say, voice still raspy with sleep, “you broke the internet.”
he squints at the screen, icy blue eyes bleary, hair sticking up in chaotic angles that make you want to smooth it down. he huffs out a little laugh, the exhale warm against your bare skin. “they’re gonna figure it out eventually.”
you snort. “they’ve basically figured it out.” your thumb hovers over the comments. “look at this one—‘if they’re not dating i’m deleting this app.’”
ernie leans in to read it, his beard brushing your neck so you shiver. he kisses the spot absently. “tell them not to delete it. your engagement numbers would drop.”
you elbow him lightly, and he finally laughs for real, husky and sleepy, before tugging you onto your side so he can bury his face against your collarbone. you can feel the smile against your skin. your phone buzzes between you, the screen lighting up with another tiktok notification. he groans. “put that thing away.”
“you’re the one who commented the fire emojis.”
“yeah,” he mutters, pressing another kiss into the hollow of your throat, voice going rough and muffled, “’cause you looked good.”
—
by the time you’re at the stadium the sun is high and relentless, glaring off the glass of the dome and baking the sidewalk until the air feels like it’s shimmering. you have your hair pulled back tight, makeup set to withstand anything, and your nerves crawling up your spine in little pricks of static. your name is on the big board. your name, in lights. you take a slow breath, the scent of freshly mown grass and hot concrete and popcorn drifting around you as you try to look nonchalant.
ernie meets you at the tunnel, already in uniform—white pants, blue jersey, the logo snug across his broad chest. the cap shadows his eyes but when he tilts his head back to look at you, they’re bright, that frosty blue that makes you want to kiss him stupid. you see the twitch of his mouth like he’s trying not to grin.
“you look—”
“don’t say it,” you cut in, shooting him a look. “if you say ‘nervous’ i’m gonna smack you.”
he just shrugs, easy. “was gonna say gorgeous, sweetheart, but alright.”
you roll your eyes, but you’re biting back a smile.
“you ready?” he asks, voice low. you can hear the murmur of the crowd, the call-and-response of vendors, the crackle of the announcer’s voice over the PA.
“as i’ll ever be.”
he nudges your arm. “you’re gonna be fine. just throw it.”
“wow. amazing advice.”
“that’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
you snort, but your fingers brush his as you walk out toward the field. the grass is so green it almost hurts to look at it, cut short and sharp, the dirt of the mound dry and powdery under your sneakers. you hear the hush of the crowd, the growing wave of noise as they see you.
you inhale. slow. your heart hammering against your ribs.
ernie crouches behind the plate, glove out, cap low, eyes on you like there’s nobody else in the whole damn place. he gives you the tiniest nod. your fingers tighten on the ball.
you wind up. let it go. it’s not perfect—wobbles a bit, but it makes it to him. the sound of leather smacking leather echoes and he holds it up triumphantly, the crowd cheering.
he straightens, grin spreading wide enough you can see it all the way from the mound. and then he’s jogging up to you.
the stadium noise swells, like a held breath.
you’re smiling so hard it hurts your face when he reaches you. he curls a hand around your waist, careful but firm, sweaty glove discarded, and leans in.
the kiss is quick, but sure. lips brushing warm and solid over yours. the roar of the crowd goes sharp and delighted, a collective whoop and scattered applause.
when you break away, his beard tickles your cheek and you realize you’re on the jumbotron. you can see it in your periphery—the two of you framed against the bright summer sky, the little smudge of his thumbprint on your chin from where he cupped your face.
you mutter, just loud enough for him to hear, “we’re so busted.”
ernie snorts, eyes crinkling at the corners, the tiniest flush climbing his neck. “you think they didn’t know?”
you breathe out a laugh, tucking your head against his chest for a second, letting the noise of the stadium wash over you. the scent of dirt and grass and his laundry soap clings to him, warm and steady.
and when you finally turn and wave at the crowd, he lingers just behind you, his hand pressed light to your lower back, grounding you while your heart tries to beat out of your chest.
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hello goat... could i pretty please request a roman anthony fic... sub!him ofc :freakyball:
don't think of jarren || rm19
summary: roman's dealing with rejection from you on a night out, only for you to pop up and ruin it all by eye fucking jarren in duran in front of him. roman's mind ends up wondering too much.
warnings: nsfw !! NO p in v, sub!roman anthony x reader, dry humping, making out, slight dumbification, slight voyeurism, brief use of good boy, and maybe implied jarren duran x reader (x roman anthony)
a/n: HELLOOO ANON !!!! thank you for my first request this was soooo fun to write and i tried my best to make it accurate but he might be a little ooc
word count: 2.2k
the night wasn't supposed to go like this, it just wasn't. roman could feel himself get clammier and clammier underneath the bar lighting, casting a yellow-orange glow onto everyone who sat at their table like some kind of filter that was definitely hindering his decision making. it was supposed to be a relaxing night, that's what jarren and marcelo had told him when they were leaving practice.
“come on, man, you gotta loosen up.” he remembered the way marcelo said it, his hands were massaging his shoulders as they walked out of the training facility together with jarren trailing behind them, scrolling on his phone. checking his phone to see if anyone dmed him, probably looking for a hookup all things considered.
“yeah, get some of that tension out, you’ve been hitting like shit.” jarren muttered in agreement, roman winced at the observation, because it was true.
he was hitting like shit.
but he knew why. he didn't want to tell either of them, he knew what they would say: “you're hung up on that?” or “grow a backbone, dude.” and roman could only shift awkwardly at the thought.
tell them about you. the person who he always went back to no matter how many times he sat in his car after seeing you, banging his head against his steering wheel while muttering something about being ‘so stupid’. nothing official. just hook ups, and maybe breakfast sometimes. roman didn't complain, why would he? at the end of the day he still got to have you. that was enough, he lied to himself.
it was dumb. oh, christ, it was so stupid of him to think this would go any differently than it had.
roman had asked you to come, it was a bar, there would be alcohol. sure, his teammates would be there but they didn't have to sit with them! right? at least that's what roman insisted, but you declined. he never said which bar, he never said where, he just asked. he told himself there was no harm in asking after almost crying for ten minutes drafting out a million different texts to send.
what was the point anyways? you said no.
he tried to not be butt hurt about it, but he was. marcelo teased him when he walked in, pinching his cheeks and asking why he looked so down, as if roman hadn't been sniffling the entire way over.
he was glad for the distorting overhead lights, maybe that’s why none of his teammates teased him about his red nose or reddening waterline. he hated crying, but it was different when it came to rejection, or at least what felt like it.
before he knew it, a beer was pressed into his hands and he was sitting down surrounded by half his team, he was really only half listening despite just getting there. he couldn't help it, there was this awful lingering sense of helplessness that settled in his gut, he went through the motions - nodding, smiling, laughing, when everyone else did.
marcelo and jarren exchanged looks, roman was so jumpy, nate had patted his back as he passed roman and roman literally jumped. this was supposed to take him off edge, not push him even further on it.
he looked painfully disinterested while being anxious, the way his eyebrows naturally knit together with the pout making his bottom lip jut out slightly.
despite everything, roman couldn't help but keep glancing at the door, he knew you wouldn't show up, he knew you didn't even know which bar he was at. despite himself he still hoped you’d walk through the door.
he didn't expect you to actually walk through the door.
you were laughing at something your friend had said, and it's like time slowed down for roman. the way the bar lights caught in your hair, and the way you’d dressed up. roman shifted. then he swallowed hard.
fuck, he needed to learn self control.
something flared in him, something in the pit of his stomach, something ugly, and something dangerously close to jealousy. you were giggling with someone else, someone who wasn't him. he made you giggle like that too. his eyebrows drew closer together.
“dude, you good?” marcelo waved a hand in front of romans face, feeling the sudden shift in his demeanor.
“what? yeah. all good.” roman responded dryly, marcelo didn't believe it for a second.
marcelo shifted to sit next to him, trying to match his eyeline to see exactly what he was looking at, because even with a hand in front of his face, he still looked like he’d poured spoiled milk into his cereal.
“no way…” marcelo’s jaw dropped slightly, “dude, go talk to her.” he hissed, shoving his shoulder to which roman scowled.
“dude, stop,” roman huffed, trying to shake marcelo off him to no avail, he turned to marcelo to glare at him rather unconvincingly, “i don't know her-”
liar!
roman practically wore a yellow sticky note with his emotions in big, capitalized, bold letters scrawled across it on his forehead and he would still lie about it.
“roman?” you called out, almost making roman jump out of his skin as he turned to you with wide eyes, “you didn't tell me you were going out tonight.” you teased. another lie. he did tell you. maybe you were playing him up in front of his teammates.
“hey,” he croaked out, mentally kicking himself for his voice sounding like he hadn't spoken all night, but his throat was suddenly very dry.
“you know her?” jarren snorted out a laugh, letting out an ‘oof’ when triston smacked his abdomen, a silent ‘be nice’, jarren tried his best to school his expression but just couldn't help raking his eyes over you. you were undeniably a sight for sore eyes that he, honestly, was not expecting, “like…friends, or?” jarren glanced between the two of you while roman’s face slowly started to get red.
“yeah! friends, rommy and i go way back,” you nodded with a sweet smile, roman just kept his mouth shut - if he didn’t he might throw up. she was lying, straight to his teammates faces like it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing, well technically the most embarassing thing was the fact you just called him,
“rommy? no way, you have a nickname?” marcelo snorted in disbelief while nate barked out a laugh, and roman felt his face go hotter.
“no, it’s cute,” jarren hummed halfheartedly while glancing at roman with a look, roman could tell there was something underneath but he wasn’t apt enough to be privy to it, which only dialed his nerves higher.
“the cutest,” you nodded in agreement, moving behind him and your hands moving to rest on romans shoulders, making him tense under your touch.
roman wasn’t stupid, he was just kind of awkward sometimes. he could tell jarren was pushing him, and he knew you were pushing his buttons on purpose.
“well how’d you guys meet?” marcelo piped up, curious now.
roman held his breath - please don’t say dating app, please don’t say dating app. if any of his teammates knew you had met on a dating app, it wouldn’t be hard to assume that you two met just to fuck. which wasn’t far off the truth. but roman didn’t want to admit that, athletes already were pretty stereotypical, he didn’t want to seem desperate.
(he was.)
“well, when i moved to boston i got so lost trying to get to work, and i ended up in a coffee shop and i asked rommy for directions,” you smiled, tightening your grip on his shoulders, resting your chin on the top of his head, “he was so adorable.” you smirked.
jarren stared at you, not believing it for a second while the rest of his teammates nodded or muttered something about it being “so roman”. roman could see how jarren was looking at you, his parted lips and slightly narrowed eyes, it was the same look jarren got when he was picking girls up at bars, but this felt different. it felt like he was giving roman the look as much as he was giving it to you.
romans mouth was dry.
his pants felt tight.
he shifted uncomfortably.
“it was a couple months ago,” he offered dumbly.
“yeah? so not long then,” jarren nodded passively, as if he was trying to understand the unspoken dynamic between the three, roman just nodded his head, and jarren took a slow sip of his beer.
no, this was too much. between jarren and you, mentally, physically. it was too much. the lights were too warm, his throat was too dry, his pants too tight. he was getting overwhelmed for some reason, he forced himself to move which felt more like torture than anything else.
he stood up more abruptly than he had intended to.
“i’ll be back in a minute,” he managed to say.
you gave him a look, he hated that look, the look you gave him whenever he was spent. the look of pity. he just shook his head and went off, and you just let your hands slide off him.
he practically barged into the bathroom, he was glad it was empty. it was one of those shitty bathrooms that was just one room with a toilet and sink that forced people to make unreasonably long lines during busy nights. for once he was grateful for that.
he splashed his face with water, taking deep breaths. hoping his boner would die off with time. okay, maybe he wasn’t thinking right because the only thing he was thinking of was jarren making out with you. realistically, he should be pissed at the thought.
instead? fuck, he was painfully turned on.
he screwed his eyes shut, trying to think of anything else. him and marcelo going to miami. aaron judge hitting a home run (come on, like that would help). and even being in a press conference. why wasn’t anything working? he was just about ready to jerk off there and then until he heard the door creak open. of course, he forgot to lock it.
he was gonna say something about it being occupied but when he looked in the mirror, he saw you leaning back on the door, giving him the look. that look you gave him whenever you were unimpressed.
“you’re hard? just from a conversation?” you scoffed, stepping closer to him, making him swallow hard, “what were you thinking about, come on, tell me.” you cooed, pushing him back into the sink.
roman was never one to deny you.
“...you and jarren making out.” he admitted quietly, looking down at you with baited breath.
“that’s all?” you snorted, laughing in his face, “you didn’t think about jarren fucking me against the wall? holding me up, you don’t wanna see how his tattoos look flexing holding my weight up? you watching like a good boy, not saying a word unless spoken to?”
oh, now roman was in for it.
roman was already painfully hard with the thought of just kissing but now with that image in his mind that would keep him going for a week.
you didn’t give him any more time to overthink it, you pulled him into a kiss by the front of his shirt, pressing your body into his intentionally grinding onto his boner to which he couldn’t help the whimper that left his throat.
it was too much and you were forcing his brain into a shutdown. he rutted his hips against you involuntarily, his hands finding your face, maybe he was thining about jarren still, you couldn’t it was all the same at the end of the night.
he couldn’t believe how close he already was by literally just making out with you while desperately dry humping you in a filthy bar restroom. thinking about his fucking teammate! god, if he wasn’t so tangled in your warmth, your facade of comfort, then he might actually feel guilty about it.
but with your hands roaming under his shirt, providing the skin to skin contact he so desperately loved during sex, and your mouth swallowing all his moans and whimpers, he couldn’t even think about the real life consequences about it.
when you finally broke away he whined, a small beg that left his lips that you couldn’t quite make out. you wouldn’t let him finish, that realisation was creeping in at a devastatingly slow pace as you moved away from roman to fix your hair in the mirror. roman was still catching his breath, his face was flushed, his lips were swollen. and he was still hard.
but it was obvious you were not interested in helping him out any further than he you already had.
“i hope you have a good night, roman,” you smiled sweetly at him, patting his cheek and leaving the bathroom - leaving him to his own devices with the images that you put in his head.
by the time he had jerked off and cleaned himself up, everyone at the table were too drunk to question where he was for the last twenty minutes.
but he did notice something peculiar: both you and jarren were gone.
song of the fic: Pasoori by Shae Gill and Ali Sethi
You wake up in your small apartment each morning, making coffee and breakfast before heading to work. The days blend into a monotonous routine, leaving you feeling unfulfilled and lonely. Your evenings are spent in solitude, indulging in frozen meals and binge-watching TV shows. Deep down, you yearn for something more meaningful in your life.
One fateful evening, you decide to step out of your comfort zone and attend a local baseball game. As you settle into your seat, the excitement in the air is palpable. The crowd enthusiastically roars as the star player, Shohei Ohtani, takes the field. You've heard about his incredible skills and record-breaking performances, but seeing him in action leaves you in awe.
Intrigued by Shohei's talent and charisma, you find yourself captivated by his every move. His powerful swings and precise pitches leave you spellbound, and you begin following his games religiously. One day, fate smiles upon you as you spot him at a coffee shop before a game. Summoning your courage, you approach him and strike up a conversation. To your surprise, he is warm and approachable, and you instantly feel a connection.
As the weeks pass, you continue to attend Shohei's games, but your thoughts extend beyond his athletic prowess. You imagine spending time with him outside the ballpark, sharing laughter and creating memories. Encouraged by your growing affection, you take a chance and invite him to dinner. To your delight, he accepts with a smile.
Over shared meals and outings, you discover the depth of Shohei's character. Beyond his athletic achievements, he is compassionate, driven, and shares your longing for connection. Each moment spent together deepens your affection, and it becomes clear that something special is blossoming between you.
However, as the baseball season nears its end, the looming reality of Shohei's return to Japan threatens to dampen your newfound happiness. The uncertainty of the future weighs heavily on your heart, and you dread the possibility of being separated once again. You share a romantic sunset dinner on your last evening together, cherishing every moment. In a tender moment, Shohei promises to come back to you, no matter the distance.
The following months are filled with longing and anticipation as you await Shohei's return. The days seem endless, but your love remains steadfast. Finally, the long-awaited day arrives—the start of a new season. As the game concludes, you find Shohei standing at your doorstep, holding a bouquet of flowers. The joy in both your hearts is palpable, and you know that your love has endured the test of time and distance.
Together again, you compensate for the moments lost, cherishing every second spent in each other's embrace. You support Shohei wholeheartedly as he devotes himself to his baseball career, attending games and offering unwavering encouragement. You provide him solace and a safe haven in the quiet moments, easing his exhaustion and reminding him that his worth extends far beyond the field.
One evening, after a particularly challenging game, you decide to surprise Shohei with a thoughtful date to lift his spirits. You prepare his favorite meal with love and secure tickets to an art exhibit you know he'll appreciate. As you unveil the surprise, a smile lights up his face, and you embark on a night filled with art, laughter, and heartfelt connection. In each other's presence, you find comfort and strength.
As the baseball season progresses and the team advances toward the playoffs, the bond between you and Shohei deepens further. On a chilly October night, amidst the jubilation of a division-winning celebration, Shohei finds you amidst the confetti and cheers. He scoops you up in his arms at that moment, exclaiming, "We did it!" The love in his eyes assures you that no matter the challenges ahead, your hearts have found a home in each other.
Together, you face the uncertainties of life with unwavering devotion. No distance can separate you, for your love transcends borders and oceans. In the embrace of each other's arms, you find the warmth and fulfillment that once eluded you. And as you continue to cheer Shohei on from the stands, you know that the most significant victory is the love you share, a love that knows no boundaries.
summary: someone special to adley surprises him for his birthday...
"Adley's going to love this surprise," Josie couldn't help but giggle to herself as she ushered you into the house. "He stepped out for the moment, but trust me, I think he's going to burst into tears when he sees you...He misses you that much, Y/N."
Originally, you were going to miss your boyfriend's birthday party on the account that you are a student at a college almost halfway across the country and he was back in Oregon, where he was spending the offseason with his family...or so you thought until Josie, Adley's sister, messaged you one night and talked about how much he was missing you and how sulky he was to the point she couldn't bear seeing him so immediately after the conversation, you booked a flight to Eugene and planned to spend a few days with him and his family before you had to return.
"Y/N, honey, you made it!" A giant grin lit up Mama Rutschman's face as soon as she saw you; bringing you into a warm embrace. "It's so good to see you again."
You couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle and hug her back, "it's great to see you too, Mama Rutschman," you quietly whispered while pulling away from the hug.
"I think Adley and his father are coming back in a few minutes," Mama Rutschman soon spoke after glancing at the wall clock across the room. "We need to act quickly before the cat's out of the bag!"
You knew what she was getting at, so you nodded your head and smiled at the ladies standing in front of you. "I'll go unpack my stuff and get freshened up for the party; Josie, send me the signal when it's time for the grand reveal."
"Aye, aye, captain," Josie jokingly winked at you and gave you a playful salute.
\\\
"Why do I feel like something's going to happen?" Adley couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at his family as they gathered around in the dining room. He glanced at his sister for a moment, who offered him no help but a simple shrug.
Then he glanced at his parents, who also feigned innocence and pretended to ignore the question.
There was definitely something going on. And Adley wanted to get to the bottom of it.
While Adley appeared to be lost in his thoughts for what appeared to be a few moments, Josie jumped at the opportunity to send you the all-clear signal.
"Thank god, my knees were starting to cry," you mumbled under your breath while standing up from your crouched position behind the kitchen counter island. You then held onto the small round birthday cake in your hands with a firm grip, "well, here goes nothing."
Quietly humming to yourself, you sauntered into the dining room, where an unsuspecting Adley awaited your presence. Well, needless to say, your surprise plan was almost perfect...until you stumbled on your feet and the cake flew from your hands and onto his face.
Josie and her parents couldn't stifle their giggles as they watched Adley try to wipe the buttercream frosting from his face.
As soon as he got the frosting out of his eyes, he couldn't help but stare at you with a sly smirk.
"Surprise...?" It was all you could muster out while staring at him with a sheepish grin.
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You met Davis one summer evening at a baseball game in Buffalo. As you watched the players on the field, your eyes were drawn to his athleticism and grace. He was the team's utility player, always ready to step in wherever he was needed. You couldn't help but be captivated by his charm and infectious smile.
Your paths crossed by chance at a post-game celebration. Davis approached you with a nervous yet genuine smile, introducing himself with a warm handshake. From that moment, a connection between you grew into something beautiful and unique.
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. You spent countless hours together, sharing laughter, dreams, and secrets. Davis became your confidante, your rock, and your greatest supporter. The bond between you was unbreakable, or so you thought.
As the baseball season progressed, Davis's talent shone brightly, drawing the attention of the bigwigs in Toronto, who gave him an opportunity to show his talent among the crowds of thousands of fans at the Rogers Centre. The dreams he had nurtured since childhood were within his grasp, but it came with a heavy price.
With each passing game, Davis's dedication to his sport intensified. He spent less time by your side, and his absence weighed heavily on your heart. You understood the sacrifices required to pursue a career in professional sports, yet it didn't make it any easier.
The letters and phone calls became sporadic, filled with apologies and promises to make it up to you. But as the distance between you grew, so did the ache in your chest. You missed the late-night conversations, the stolen moments of tenderness, and the feeling of being truly understood.
The day came when Davis was called up to the major leagues. It was a bittersweet triumph, for while he achieved his lifelong dream, it meant a chasm separating the two of you. You stood at the airport, his bags packed, and tears streaming down your face. The weight of the impending goodbye pressed upon your chest, suffocating your hopes.
He held your trembling hands, his eyes filled with regret and longing. "I never wanted to hurt you," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "But I can't let go of this opportunity. It's my chance to make something of myself."
You nodded, unable to find your voice. You understood Davis's desires, drive, and relentless pursuit of a career that consumed him. But it didn't make the impending emptiness any less painful. You wished for a different outcome, a future filled with shared moments, but life had its own plans.
Months passed, and you found yourself drowning in a sea of memories. The photographs on the walls and the echoes of laughter haunted every corner of your home. The ache in your heart grew with each passing day as if the absence of his presence had carved a void within you.
You followed Davis's career from a distance, watching his name become synonymous with success. He became a star, celebrated by fans and loved ones alike. But in your heart, he remained the person who had stolen a piece of you, leaving you adrift in melancholy.
Time couldn't heal the wounds inflicted by the separation. The pain lingered, a constant reminder of what could have been. The dreams you once shared became faded fragments of a distant past, and the thought of finding love again seemed impossible.
Years rolled by, and Davis's star continued to rise. The world celebrated his victories while you silently mourned the love that slipped through your fingers. You wondered if he ever thought of you, if regret ever danced across his mind during quiet moments of solitude.
One fateful evening, a familiar face caught your eye as you sat alone in a quiet café. It was Davis, albeit older, wearier, and weathered by the demands of fame. He stood at the entrance, hesitating momentarily before his gaze met yours.
He crossed the room, his footsteps heavy with unspoken words. As he reached your table, the silence between you was thick with the weight of what had been lost. He sat down, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and regret.
"I thought about you every day," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I never stopped loving you, not for a single moment. But I couldn't bear to see the disappointment in your eyes if I failed. I'm sorry for breaking your heart.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his confession. The wounds he had unknowingly inflicted were laid bare, and the pain that had consumed you for so long threatened to overflow.
"I never stopped loving you either," you whispered, your voice trembling. "But the path we chose led us down separate roads, and we can't turn back time."
Davis nodded, his eyes filled with sorrow. "I understand," he said softly. "I have regrets, but I can't undo what's been done."
You both sat silently, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. As you looked into each other's eyes, you realized that even though the love you once shared was still alive, it had been battered and bruised by the passage of time.
With a heavy heart, you bid your final farewell to Davis, knowing it was time to let go of the dreams and memories that held you captive. It was a melancholic and somber ending to a love story that had burned brightly but ultimately fizzled out.
Life moved on, as it always does, and you found solace in the healing power of time. The ache in your heart gradually subsided, replaced by acceptance and a newfound strength. You began to rebuild your life, piece by piece, embracing the lessons learned from the bittersweet love affair with Davis.
And though the wounds of the past would always leave their mark, you discovered that the human spirit has an incredible capacity to heal. You opened your heart to new possibilities, knowing that love, in all its forms, could still find its way to you.
As you walked toward an uncertain future, you carried with you the memories of a love that once burned brightly, now a melancholic ember in the depths of your soul. And while the ending was tinged with sadness, you knew deep within that you were more robust for having loved and lost.
For you and Davis, your paths simply…diverged. It led to you both living separate lives. But the imprint of your love story remained, forever etched in the annals of both of your hearts. And perhaps, in the tapestry of your lives, you both would find solace in the knowledge that you and Davis had shared something extraordinary, even if it had been destined to end in melancholy...
you guys...if i were to make an account where i post fics, blurbs, and instagram edits would y'all read and follow? i am super interested in writing but i want to know that someone out there will enjoy my work just as much as i enjoy it. let me know here and if y'all are really interested i'll give more details!
