#haunting me every second of everyday

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

doll spider is so real. charles and edwin are reuniting in hell and in the middle of whatever gay shit charles was starting to say doll spider bursts in like SHUT THE FUCK UP!! ENOUGH WITH THAT GAY SHIT!! I DONT WANNA HEAR THE REST OF THAT GAY ASS SENTENCE!! like good for her honestly. she was only chasing them up the stairs during the confession scene because she heard charles say that orpheus and eurydice line and knew it would only get worse from there. she just wanted them out of hell before she had to hear any more sickeningly romantic homo shit, man. and like i get it. mad respect, queen.

[emilylsart]

Here have some Matthew Patels I drew some weeks ago based on some poses from the movie 'cause I gotta say they are quite epic :)

Which one's your favorite mine's almost all of them LOL I did pretty good

[ame-to-ame]

there are things that you don't do for a year or more and pick up just right where you left off and these days i fear loving you might be one of them

[deadcatboys]

I know I have bpd and it feels like a fucking curse

[phantobats]

I know that every batfam member would be able to survive the five nights at Freddy's Pizzeria, but I like to imagine they all go about it in different ways:

Bruce: figures out that there are souls haunting the animatronics and starts internally debating the ethics of (adopting) rehabilitating haunted and homicidal animatronics, on the basis that the souls are still children. Survives the five nights and plays by the rules, although his power level remains suspiciously high at the end of each night.

Dick: would have an absolutely joyful time spending five nights inside that cursed building as an adrenaline junkie. He's also weirdly gifted at excelling in obscure jobs such as a nightguard fighting for his life.

Jason: the second one of them moves, the building is going up in flames.

Tim: figures out how to jam the doors shut without them draining his power and uses that to his advantage to get work done, since he's already awake and doing nothing of importance.

Damian: convinces himself to guard by the rules without trying to sabotage the equipment and succeeds. Whenever an animatronic pops up at one of the windows, he starts insulting them. He also makes sure to insult them whenever he's done with his shift to assert dominance. Additionally, he nicknamed each of them after his brothers since they remind him of his everyday nuisances.

Barbara: being oracle has prepared her for this moment — quite literally child's play for her, so she multitasks between babysitting vigilantes and homicidal furry ghouls. (aren't they the same thing atp?)

Cass: she would manage to predict their movements and slip away to jumpscare them instead, running away before they manage to do any damage. Why stay inside the office when you can hassle the animatronics to hide in the office from you?

Steph: adrenaline junkie pt.2, although she would treat it like a 'let's play' and video call either Tim or Cass to share the experience with them — all they hear is her screaming, cursing and then laughing when they pop up.

Duke: unironically would also be hunting the animatronics from the shadows. He does it on the first night and they decide not to annoy him again for the rest of the week.

Edit: this is unironically being written by me, in the form of Nightwing becoming a night guard. will update with the link to the fic once i am done.

[delilahsturniolo]

i miss you, i’m sorry.

written by: @delilahsturniolo

____________________________________________

in which: matt and his girlfriend get into a heated argument, resulting in y/n having a panic attack.

this story contains: panic attack, crying, arguing, yelling, angst, fluff.

“nothing happened in the way i wanted.”

“every corner of this house is haunted.”

____________________________________________

12:05 AM…

I was sprawled out on the living room couch, staring up at the ceiling. Matt had been gone for a while, I haven’t seen him for the day yet. I assumed he had been filming and hanging out with his brothers, but something about it bothered me. Matt had been so busy lately, everyday I would only see him when he comes back home, then he’s gone again in the morning.

The thunder outside rumbled loudly, rain clattering harshly against the roof. I sighed deeply and pulled out my phone, deciding to call Matt and see where he was.

I opened my phone and clicked call on Matt’s contact. It rang for a few seconds before he picked up. “Hello?” Matt voice came through the phone. I felt relief wash over me, knowing he was safe during the storm.

“Matt? Where are you?” I asked, concern taking over my voice. I heard Matt heavily sigh.

“Y/n, I’m at work right now baby. Me, Chris and Nick are pre-filming videos. We might also hang out with Nathan too. Everything okay?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay, it’s raining pretty hard out.” I shrugged, flinching as the thunder grumbled louder.

Matt cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yep. Uh, actually..I think I’m gonna be home a little later than expected. So you’ll probably be asleep by the time I come home. Don’t wait up for me.”

I frowned upon hearing this. “Oh..okay.” I simply said in a neutral tone, feeling a little disappointed, but I didn’t show it. Matt could tell though, he always could, no matter how I tried to sugar coat my feelings, he always saw through it.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” He questioned, I sat up on the couch, adjusting my position.

“Nothing’s wrong…it’s just that you said you were gonna come home early and we’d spend time together..it’s already midnight.” I spoke, the sadness clear in my voice.

“Fuck, I’m sorry sweetheart. I totally forgot, how about tomorrow night?” Matt suggested, a slight tone of guilt in his voice.

“Yeah, sure. We can do that.” I replied, feeling my heart sink. This was the 3rd time he’s done this.

“Thanks baby. Bye, I love you.” Matt exclaimed, his voice happier. I bit my lip, holding back all my pent up emotion. “I love you too.” I responded before hanging up, feeling sorrow in my heart. I decided to ignore it for now. I was probably being dramatic, he has a job. He has fans, people who love him.

And I have, well. Nothing. I wasn’t as successful, and lovable as he was.

“He doesn’t have time for you, get over it.”

I told myself.

2 hours later…

2:13 AM

I sat down at the kitchen table, mindlessly scrolling on my phone. I was honestly a little annoyed at Matt. Here he was, blowing off our plans once again.

I know he told me not to wait up for him, but I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t sleep without Matt next to me, the harsh storm blowing around wasn’t helping either.

I was disheartened by the fact that I barely ever saw him anymore. He was busy 24/7. Matt was always caught up in filming, meetings, brand deals, or hanging out with his friends. All while I was alone in the house.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard the front door open. Nick and Chris walked through, they hugged me and said hi before walking up to their rooms.

Matt walked through the door his keys attached to his belt loop and a cap on his head. He shut the front door, locking it. His cap was a little wet from the rain outside. I looked up, immediately meeting his gaze. He looked a little surprised to see me.

“What are you doing awake? Didn’t I say not to wait up for me?” Matt asked in confusion, he placed down his stuff on the counter.

I got up from my seat at the table and stretched my arms, yawning as I walked over to where he was. “Couldn’t sleep, the storm was keeping me awake.” I shrugged, peeking in one of the bags he placed down, it was mainly stuff for the next video.

“When you come back home tomorrow do you think we could watch a movie or something?” I suggested. Matt sighed and leaned against the counter.

“I don’t know, Y/n. I’m have some stuff to do when I come home tomorrow.” Matt grumbled. I frowned.

“What? But you said we’d spend time together?” I tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear, looking at Matt intently as I waited for an answer.

“I know, but we’re busy with the new merch drop coming soon and everything else. I can’t spend time with you 24/7, you know that right? I have other priorities.” Matt crossed his arms.

I scoffed in disbelief. “I get that, but it’s just the fact that you never spend time with me anyways! I barely even see you anymore, Matt.” I whispered the last part. Matt pushed himself off of the counter and furrowed his eyebrows at me.

“I never spend time with you? Do you hear yourself right now Y/n? I’m sorry I have a career, a life! You act so fucking clingy all the time!” Matt raised his voice slightly at me. I backed up a little.

I flinched as the thunder from outside began rumbling loudly once more, the rain pouring harder every second. I rubbed my eyes and responded to Matt.

“Clingy? You think I’m clingy? That’s bold.” I rolled my eyes. Matt ran a hand through his hair in frustration and grunted.

“Yeah. You are clingy! I can’t even do anything without you nagging me!” Matt suddenly shouted, not even letting me talk as he continued.

“You’re just so annoying. You’re being over dramatic.” He narrowed his eyes at me. I let out a shaky breath as I shouted back at him.

“I’m not being overdramatic!”

“Yeah? Really? Cause you’re acting like a fucking baby, all because I’m not giving you attention.” Matt spoke in frustration, it was clear his annoyance with me was only growing.

Tears began brimming my eyes as I stood there and let Matt go off on me, there was nothing more I could do. It felt like my airways were closing in, my hands were shaking.

Matt huffed. “I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of…” I completely blocked him out. I looked down to the ground, going quiet as so many thoughts ran through my head at once.

Tears blurred my vision as my breathing picked up, my chest rising and falling rapidly. The rain only fell harder outside in the dark and gloomy sky, that wasn’t helping my anxieties at all.

Matt stopped talking, cutting himself off as he froze in a panic. His eyes searched mine frantically, hoping it was just a false alarm. Nope.

“Baby? You with me?” Matt questioned, but no answer. I breathed in and out heavily and quickly, my vision hazy and sweat coming out of my forehead. I gripped onto the kitchen counter for stability

Matt didn’t hesitate to rush over to me in 2 big strides, immediately pulling me into his arms. I sobbed into him, gasping for air.

“Shh, breathe for me sweetheart. In and out okay?” Matt reassured, he sucked in a deep breath for me to copy, I shakily let out a few deep breaths.

His hand went into my hair as he held me against his chest, Matt gently ran his fingers through my hair.

Matt soothingly whispered into my ear. “A couple more deep breaths..you’re doing so good for me y/n.”

My tears soaked Matt’s shirt but he didn’t care the slightest bit. I followed Matt’s breathing pattern, eventually stabilizing my breathing.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here…” Matt softly spoke to me, his tone completely shifting from earlier.

He ran his hands up and down my back. I let out a few more choked sobs before going completely silent.

“Are you okay now..?” Matt asked, not daring to let go of me, but he pulled away slightly to look at my face. He wiped my remaining tears with his thumb.

I nodded, brushing a piece of hair out of my face. I slowly looked up at him, it was silent for a few moments before he decided to speak up.

“God, Y/n. I’m so fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I definitely shouldn’t have made you cry. You don’t deserve that.” Matt apologized, my gaze softened.

“It’s okay..I’m sorry for being so clingy. I understand that can be annoying, I should just lay off.” I mumbled, Matt shook his head and gently took my face in his hands.

“Baby, no. Don’t apologize for that, alright? I love when you’re clingy. I don’t think in the slightest bit it’s annoying. I was frustrated, and I said some things I’m not proud of. I’m really sorry, I love you so much pretty girl. I promise I’ll make more time for you.” Matt smiled, I smiled back at him.

“Do you want a shower? We can watch a movie after like you wanted to.” Matt suggested, caressing my cheek with his thumb.

“Actually, can we watch the movie tomorrow? I just wanna sleep after I shower.” I asked instead, Matt nodded his head.

“That’s sounds like a plan.” He agreed, suddenly picking me up bridal style and carrying me upstairs into the bathroom.

Matt helped me take off my clothes, he started the shower, making sure the water was nice and warm before I got in.

I stood in the shower, shutting my eyes and relaxing in the hot water while Matt went into our room to get me a set of clothes.

Matt knocked on the door. “Almost done in there love?” Matt asked, I mumbled a “Mhm” and shut off the water.

I wrapped a towel around myself before exiting the bathroom. I went back in our room only to see Matt cleaning it up, my side of the closet was completely tidy, the whole room actually.

“Matt..you didn’t have to do this.” I looked around the neat room, Matt shrugged.

“I wanted to. You deserve a break.”

Matt helped me change into my pajamas, after I flopped onto the bed in exhaustion, shutting my eyes.

Matt chuckled lightly before laying next to me on the bed, I laid on my side as he hugged me from behind. I relaxed at his touch, placing my hands on his.

Matt gently kissed my cheek before it went quiet, we both fell asleep and stayed in each other’s comfort for the rest of the night.

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AUTHORS NOTE 💌

YAYY ITS FINALLY FINISHED 🥳 let me know what u guys think! <3

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[amiableness]

Tulips BONUS part 2

THIS IS A BONUS CHAPTER TO TULIPS! HERE'S THE FIRST BONUS 🤍

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader, Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Remus' reaction to walking in on you and Sirius.

Word Count: 564

Warnings: Slightest amount of smut & Rem being jealous (let me know if there is more)

A/N 💌 Here's the second bonus you guys asked for! As always I would love to hear from you guys, it keeps me motivated to keep writing.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

The door slams shut behind Remus, and he remains still for a moment, paralyzed by anger. Sirius was the reason you didn't show up; he should have known. Remus had waited for over an hour at the library, clinging to the hope that you might appear. As the minutes ticked by, the realization set in that you weren't coming. Yet, he stubbornly refused to accept that Sirius was to blame.

Months had passed since you and Sirius started your relationship, yet the sting of being replaced hadn't dulled. Sirius was now the closest person to you, and not him. The ache of that realization was a constant, unforgiving pain.

But more than anything, he was jealous. He envied every moment Sirius made you laugh, each kiss he pressed to your lips, and every smile you gave him that showed how much he meant to you. These everyday intimacies cut deep, reminding him of what he could have had. 

If only he had said something, everything might have turned out differently.

If he thought he had been jealous before, he had been severely mistaken. He wished more than anything that he hadn't been so consumed by thoughts of you. He was so fixated on the idea of you that he hadn't even noticed the warning sounds hidden behind his dorm door.

The image of you, pressed into the sheets, desperate to give Sirius anything he asked of you. That searing image would forever haunt his thoughts.

While he couldn’t see your face at that moment, and Godric, he desperately wished he had. He could vividly imagine the furrow in your brow, the faint smudge of lip gloss at the corner of your mouth, and the way your hair was a tangled mess, strands clinging to your sweat-covered forehead. The faint streaks of mascara traced the delicate skin beneath your eyes, marking the path of your tears.

As his imagination conjures up the most devastated version of you, he wonders: would you have looked that way for him?

Lips parted and pretty, pupils wide and dark. Hair damp with sweat and knotted.

He knows it’s fucked up. Beyond fucked up. But he can’t help but picture you sitting pretty on your knees as you look up at him, eyes wanting. Legs spread wide to allow him to hover over you, placing hot kisses along your neck and collarbone. Bent over as he rails into you from behind. You begging for more as he repeats how much he loves you over and over, eager to show you that he’ll do anything for you.

And he would, if you asked him too.

Anything for his angel.

His daydream is brutally cut short when he hears you cry out, “Sirius, fuck, I love you.” The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and everything comes crashing down around him. His heart sinks, and he realizes he needs to leave before someone notices him standing outside the door. In his defense, he wasn’t eavesdropping on purpose; he had meant to leave when his mind ran wild with the fleeting glimpse he caught of you. The urge to see you, to be close to you, had overridden his better judgment, but now he felt a wave of disgust and heartbreak wash over him.

Despite everything, Remus is devastated. He had lost the girl he could have been with, but now would never have.

[moremaybank]

you'd had this necklace that you wore everyday. it was nothing special, just a tiny little cowboy boot pendant; a nod to the song, cowboy like me. but eventually, when bestfriend!jj had gifted you your beloved 'j' necklace, you ended up ditching it. then, one day, after you two had gotten into a huge fight about something neither of you could seem to remember, and you'd stormed into your bathroom with the slam of a door, it caught his eye. it was just hanging there on your necklace stand, glimmering in the golden light of the sun. he plucked it off like the true kleptomaniac he was, quickly fastening it around his neck before escaping through your window. now, the minute the fight had began, he instantly regretted ever making you so angry. that hurt look in your eyes would go on to haunt him forever. and when you locked yourself in the bathroom, he was already missing you. so, he couldn't help it. he wanted a physical piece of you to keep with him until you in your entirety were ready to give him a second glance. he'd die if anyone found out, but every night before he went to sleep, drowning in the void left by your absence, he pressed the cold charm to his lips, the same way he would kiss your head as you both drifted off into slumber. eventually, when you two had made up, you noticed the jewelry hanging from his neck, and you arched a brow, picking it up and fidgeting with it as you looked up at him. "i've been looking for this, y'know," you noted, feigning annoyance. he knew that you probably wanted to swap necklaces because you were mad at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that when his eyes fixated on his t-shirt draped over your drool-worthy form. his fingers tugged at the worn cotton, silently teasing you. "i don't think you're in the position to talk 'bout thievin', pretty girl. 'specially not when you're wearin' my shirt." he revelled in the glare you gave him with a wide grin, unable to hide the ecstasy he felt when seeing you in his clothing. you missed him just as much as he missed you.

i actually don't know what this is but i like it so

[logansargeantsbabymom]

We'll Keep Him Safe

Arthur Leclerc x Fem!Reader, BRIEF Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

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The Fourth of July was supposed to be a day of celebration, but for Arthur and me, it became a haunting reminder of our darkest fears.

We had welcomed Bucky into our lives just a few weeks earlier—a tiny Dachshund with big, curious eyes and a playful spirit that lit up our home. His presence was like a ray of sunshine, weaving joy into the fabric of our everyday lives.

As evening descended and the first fireworks erupted in the sky, Bucky's excitement quickly turned to terror. The loud bangs and dazzling lights sent him into a panic, his small body trembling uncontrollably. Arthur and I tried everything to soothe him, wrapping him in blankets, holding him close, but nothing could calm his frantic fear.

"He's never heard fireworks before," I murmured, my heart aching as Bucky whimpered in my arms.

"We'll keep him safe," Arthur reassured me, his voice strained with concern.

We brought Bucky inside, hoping the familiar surroundings would ease his anxiety. But the fireworks continued, their intensity growing with each burst of sound and light. In a moment of sheer panic, Bucky slipped from Arthur's grasp and darted through the open back door.

"No, Bucky, come back!" I cried, my voice cracking with fear as I watched him disappear into the darkness.

Without a second thought, Arthur and I rushed outside, calling Bucky's name into the chaotic night. Our voices joined by neighbors' shouts, mingling with the distant sounds of celebration.

We searched tirelessly through the neighborhood, our hearts pounding with every corner turned, every hopeful glance that ended in disappointment. Hours stretched into eternity as we called out for Bucky, our desperation growing with each passing minute.

By the time we returned home in the early hours of the morning, hope had dwindled to a faint glimmer. Exhausted and defeated, I sank onto the couch, tears streaming down my face as Arthur sat beside me, his own grief etched deeply on his face.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I promised we'd keep him safe."

I shook my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. We held each other in silent anguish, our hearts heavy with the weight of what might have been lost.

The next morning arrived with a heaviness that matched the ache in my chest. Arthur rose early, his determination unwavering as he prepared to continue the search. I stayed behind, trapped in a cycle of agonizing uncertainty. Every passing hour deepened my despair. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep—my mind consumed by visions of Bucky alone and afraid.

When Arthur returned later that afternoon, he was empty-handed and visibly exhausted. He collapsed onto the couch beside me, his shoulders slumped with defeat.

"We have to find him, Arthur," I pleaded, my voice trembling with fear. "He's out there somewhere."

Arthur took my hand, his eyes filled with sorrow. "I know, Y/N. I won't give up."

But as the day wore on and dusk approached once more, hope continued to slip through our fingers like sand. I stared out the window, my eyes fixed on the empty backyard where Bucky used to play. The silence was deafening, echoing the emptiness in my heart.

"I'm going out again," Arthur said quietly, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. "I won't stop until I bring him home."

I nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of my gratitude and fear. I watched Arthur leave, a solitary figure disappearing into the fading light.

Alone in the silence, my thoughts drifted back to the day we had brought Bucky home. I remembered the way he had bounded into our lives, his tail wagging furiously, his playful antics filling our home with laughter. Now, that laughter felt like a distant memory, drowned out by the ache of loss and the relentless tick of the clock.

Hours passed with agonizing slowness. I paced the living room, my mind a whirlwind of doubt and despair. I couldn't bear the thought of never seeing Bucky again, never feeling his warm, furry body nestled against mine, never hearing the pitter-patter of his paws on the hardwood floor.

When Arthur finally returned, it was well past midnight. His steps were heavy, his expression drawn and weary. I rushed to his side, my heart pounding with anticipation and dread.

"Did you find him?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

Arthur shook his head, his eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I looked everywhere."

I collapsed onto the couch, my hands covering my face as I gave in to the overwhelming grief. Arthur sank down beside me, pulling me close, his own tears mingling with mine.

"We'll find him," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "We have to."

But as the night stretched on, sleep remained elusive. I lay awake in the darkness, my thoughts consumed by memories of Bucky—the way he would curl up in my lap, the mischievous glint in his eyes when he stole Arthur's socks, the way he would nuzzle against my cheek when I needed comfort.

Morning dawned with a grayness that matched my mood. I rose wearily, my body heavy with exhaustion and grief. Arthur was already up, his eyes red-rimmed from sleepless nights and endless searching.

"We have to do something," I said quietly, my voice hollow with despair. "We can't just sit here and wait."

Arthur nodded, his jaw clenched with determination. "I know a few shelters in the area. Maybe someone found him."

We spent the day visiting every shelter within driving distance, showing Bucky's picture to anyone who would listen. Each place held a flicker of hope that was quickly extinguished by the sight of empty cages and sympathetic glances.

By the time we returned home, our hearts were heavy with disappointment. I sank onto the couch, my hands trembling as I buried my face in Arthur's shoulder.

"We're never going to find him, are we?" I whispered, my voice choked with tears.

Arthur held me close, his own despair echoing mine. "We will, Y/N. We have to believe that."

But belief slipped through our fingers like water, leaving behind only the bitter taste of loss and regret.

Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no sign of Bucky. My grief became a constant companion, a heavy weight that pressed down on my chest and clouded my thoughts. Arthur continued to search, refusing to give up hope even as the days stretched into months.

One evening, as I sat alone in our quiet home, the doorbell rang. I answered it mechanically, my eyes dull with exhaustion.

Standing on the doorstep were Charles and his girlfriend Alexandra. Their faces were somber yet tinged with a glimmer of hope.

"We heard about Bucky," Charles began gently. "We've been keeping an eye out for him too."

I shook my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. Every mention of Bucky felt like a fresh wound, reopening the ache of loss I couldn't escape.

Alexandra stepped forward, her eyes bright with something I couldn't place. "Y/N, we were out driving earlier today, and we saw a dog that looked just like Bucky. He was sitting on someone's porch, looking lost."

My heart leaped into my throat, hope clawing its way through the fog of despair. "Are you sure?" I managed to choke out, my voice trembling with disbelief.

Charles nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Positive. We didn't want to get your hopes up, but we had to tell you."

Tears of relief and hope streamed down my face as I clung to Charles and Alexandra, their presence a lifeline in my darkest hour.

"Where did you see him?" Arthur asked urgently, his voice filled with urgency.

Charles gave him the address, and without hesitation, Arthur grabbed his keys and rushed out the door. I stood on the porch, my hands pressed against my racing heart, praying with every fiber of my being.

Minutes felt like hours as I waited, my thoughts a jumble of fear and anticipation. Finally, I saw Arthur's car pull into the driveway, Bucky's familiar face peering out the window.

My legs turned to jelly as I rushed forward, Arthur following close behind. Bucky bounded out of the car, his tail wagging furiously as he jumped into my waiting arms.

"Bucky! Oh, Bucky, you're here!" I cried, tears flowing freely as I showered him with kisses.

Arthur wrapped his arms around us both, relief flooding his expression. "I told you we'd find him," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

I buried my face in Bucky's fur, my heart overflowing with gratitude and love. We had found our way back to each other, through the darkness and despair, guided by the unbreakable bond we shared.

As we stood together in the fading light, surrounded by the echoes of our shared ordeal, I realized that sometimes, hope was all we needed to see us through. And as Bucky licked my face eagerly, his joyous barks filling the air, I knew that our little family was stronger than ever before.

In the quiet of the evening, with Arthur's arms around me and Bucky nestled against my heart, I knew that we had weathered the storm together, and we would continue to do so, one day at a time.

For in the echoes of that Fourth of July night, hope had triumphed over despair, and love had found its way home.

----------

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal l l @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v @eddieharrington @hellowgoodbye

[marxo-fm]

Sessions; ii

—highly suggest you read part one first.

Summary: König admits his obsession that he has with you to the point where it’s unbearable, as the two of you make up for the time missing in your office.

Warnings: Mentions of adult themes and language, some plot with smut, smut smut smut—did I forget to say..smut? innocent!reader, virgin!reader, Obsessed!König, mutual masturbation (I lowk surprised myself with this omg) König teaches the reader some things, praising, size kink.

Words: 2.2K

A/N: CREDITS TO @/xbruised_peachx ON TWITTER!!! CHECK HER WORK OUT it’s seriously amazing. This fic is so filthy like I seriously can’t believe I wrote this, but can you blame me? SMH. There will be a part three after this so bare with me, and I’m sure part three would be the final part. Maybe soon after I’ll write a Ghost fic, (wink wink) Btw I created a playlist for this fic and it’s on my masterlist! And let me know if you want to be on my taglist for part three!!! Okay, bye bye now peeps, thanks for reading! :)

You consumed all of König like a drug he just can’t let go of, you were his addiction, the only person that keeps his mind at ease from the world; and he’s sure he’ll never be sober. Because he’s nothing without you.

——

“What?” You pant, looking at him through your heavy eyelids. His sea colored eyes gazed your upon your flushed body once more, swearing under his breath that he may not be able to contain himself once he’s inside. Inside your mind and body. When he said he wasn’t done—and that he’s just getting started—had you feeling unknown emotions. You’re anticipating what he’s going to do with you, and you shift on his thigh that is soaked with your juices from actions before.

You can’t help but blush, feeling rather shy underneath his strong gaze. The tension almost unbearable, the sexual tension. He is eager to touch you, to taste you, and to fucking feel you under his touch.

You clouded his mind, making it harder for him to form sane thoughts.

“I said, we’re not done, Schatz.” He chuckled, his mood shifted from before. Seeming more possessive and more hungry. Starving. “What are you going to do?” You question, and that right there—made König glare at you. Burning holes through your eyes. Nothing but hunger behind those eyes, almost the same as a hungry predator finally having their prey in sight.

In that situation, König is the predator, and you’re the prey.

He kept you there, on his thigh, until he spoke. What he said next absolutely shocked you to the extreme, “no no, I’m not going to do anything—liebe. I’m just going to watch, watch as you please yourself for me. Can you do that?” He smirks under his mask, from what you can tell, his eyes lightened up in admiration. Seeing how you fell apart little by little, and it’s all because of him.

You stammer, unable to form words correctly as his statement. Your stomach flipped and heat took over your body once more. “I..oh,” you whispered, goosebumps form all across your skin. “Lie down, Prinzessin.” You paused for a minute before finally processing König’s order. You obeyed, and that only turned him on more than he already was. If that was possible.

You made it so fucking easy for him.

“Look at me, mein Schatz, don’t be nervous.” He assured, “you have no fucking idea what you do to me.” König admits, shifting his entire body towards you on the couch. You almost want to hide from his eyes, those eyes that tell so much yet so little.

He moves closer, his rough hands are placed on both of your knees and you yearned for him to search your entire body. “Every second of my day, everyday, you haunt my mind. I finally have you, I finally fucking have you, Mein Liebe .” Your breath caught in your throat, you want to speak—you really do—but he admitted how much he thinks of you, right in front of you. I’m going crazy too. You thought, what he confessed last session was really true, and now you’re just as crazy.

He wants to fill the void, the void that kept you two apart for almost months. Now, König will make up for the precious time missing.

“König, I don’t know what to say.” You confess, holding yourself steady with your arms behind yourself. In all honesty, you really didn’t know what to say. It was difficult to form any thoughts at the moment. “I don’t need you to say anything.” He said lowly, his rough hands rubs circles on your knees. His touch drove you insane, (he’s only touching you—yet you feel like you’re going to pass out.)

“Soft.” He states, spreading your legs wider and you gasped at his actions. Your skirt rode up, revealing little to his imagination. Your soft skin under his rough touch was enough to kill a man on the spot. Most certainly a six foot ten man.

“We’re going to take it slow,” he began, his German accent thick. “And then slowly, I’ll have you unravel in my hands.” You want to tell him that you have already fallen apart underneath him, and suddenly, he’s hovering over you.

He’s big. His huge torso blocked your view of the ceiling and you gulp. He leans down to your ear and you shiver, “let me be the therapist for tonight, liebe, let me be the one that eases your mind.” He offered, and you quickly accept it.

Though his words had your heart racing to the end, beating against your ribcage, felt as though your heart completely stopped. You let him take full control of you, you allowed it and you don’t regret it one bit.

He backs away, and the emptiness of his heated body left yours, leaving you feeling cold. Just come back and touch me yourself.

He watches you, not saying a word as you both held intense eye contact. His sea blue eyes soon trained on your panties, and in response, you clasp your thighs together. Everything in König’s eyes changed, his eyes are now possessed with anger. “Open.” He demanded in a voice so different from before.

König’s entire demeanor changed, “I..I’m sorry.” You stammered, his mood doesn’t change after your apology and now—you wish you’d never done what you did. You think of something, something that’ll get his mood to change.

You figured it out, you honestly surprised yourself for what you’re about to do. Slowly, you take your fingers and trail them up to your thighs. Your fingers go under the hem of your black underwear. He cursed under his breath, and that tells you that you succeeded. But you’re confused as to what to do next, you know you’re supposed to touch yourself, and that made you feel hundreds of feelings.

But you didn’t want to do anything yet, you patiently wait on him to say something. To speak.

“Remove them, Liebe.” The word Liebe, you wonder what it means. You look at him for a few seconds, then you proceed. Obediently taking your panties off and your hands shake while doing so, you’re immensely nervous and too flustered to comprehend anything. He helps slide them off your legs and then throws them on the ground. Too consumed with the way you presented yourself in front of him, it felt like his soul ascended.

(…)

He wanted to fuck you right then and there, the sight of your pretty pussy soaked with legs open wide, all for him. All for König.

Holy fuck. He murmured to himself. He can’t help his painfully aching cock bulging against his pants, and he’s holding back every attempt to stuff you full. König’s using every muscle and strength he has in his body to withstand his desires. “So pretty, and it’s all mine. All of it.” He growled, your hand covered your slick cunt and he let’s you do it.

“Mein Schatz, touch yourself for me, think you can do that? Hm?” You nod, vigorously. Quickly, you touch your sweet spot and slowly rub yourself. Your touch had you throwing your head back, but König didn’t want you to look away. “No, face me. Look at me.” He demanded, not allowing you to hide yourself.

He gives you another minute, trying his best to not thrust his fingers in your throbbing pussy. He really tried. “Doing so good,” he praised. You shove a finger inside and you let out small whines. Those whines that König wanted to turn into screams. You screaming his name would be burned into his memory till the day he passes.

(…)

Your finger wasn’t enough, and embarrassingly, you didn’t really know how to please yourself other than just rub slow circles. He saw your face twist in frustration, your fingers trembling before him and unable to fully insert your small fingers in. You whine, needing him more than ever.

“Want me to teach you? Liebe?” You nod, mind going dizzy at the thought of him touching you.

Now how can he decline when you asked politely? He couldn’t.

He brought his thumb to your clit, and sparks run through your entire veins. He fulfilled your wish, rubbing circles on your clit with his rough thumb and he found amusement the way his simple touch had you gasping for air. You instinctively buckled your hips and moved back and forth, desperate to have him move his thumb move faster. “No, be patient, Schatz.” He demanded sternly, whines and whimpers left your mouth from his torturous speed.

“Please, I need..you.” It’s you saying it instead of König, and he couldn’t deny that it made him crave you more. His thumb suddenly quickens its pace, then, he stops. You whimpered at the sudden action, “why’d you stop?” You huffed in frustration, wanting more and more and more.

He doesn’t answer your question, instead, he shoves his calloused middle finger inside your throbbing cunt with no warning. The size difference of just his finger, had you breathless. You’re not sure if you could go on, thinking to yourself how he’d fit inside you when his middle finger is already stuffing you full.

You felt like you were drowning, all water was filling your lungs and you were no longer breathing. It’s what this felt like. The burning pleasure that was also painful had you gripping onto König’s wrist. No—it wasn’t because you wanted him to stop—that’s not it, he was going painfully slow. Taking his time with you. The time that was wasted between the two of you.

He suddenly curls his middle finger and goes incredibly faster. The sounds of his finger and your slick filled the silence of the office, and you felt shame. Still, you didn’t care, you wanted more. Whimpers, whines and König’s name leaving your mouth echoed in the room, and he swore he could die on the spot.

That was enough to drive a man to insane levels.

“Fuck, du bist so süß!” He groaned in German, and you can’t deny it, him speaking German made you burn with arousal. “W-what does that mean?” You ask, as if he’s your German instructor. “You sound so sweet, liebe.” He expressed, taking his thumb and rubbing circles on you sweet spot while his other hand thrusts faster.

Not only did you learn something in German, you learned what it finally felt like to truly feel alive. You’ve never felt more alive than this moment.

His finger continues to pump in and out of you, faster. His fingers coated knuckles deep with your slick, and he chuckled at the sight, earning a moan from you. König brushed over your g-spot continuously, something you were never able to do with your own fingers.

He’s a big man. So big it’s almost inhumanly impossible. Like he was crafted by the Greek Gods themselves.

“I wish you could see how beautiful you look.” Mentioned König, you couldn’t help but blush more at his praise. It only makes you closer to your finish line, so close.

“König,” you sighed, “I am so close..” his eyes diverts its focus to your flushed face, letting out a deep groan. “Yeah? How close, Schatz?” He teased, you furrow your brows in frustration. He inserts another finger out of nowhere and your breath is caught in your throat, “oh!” You shout. Electric shocks run throughout the entirety of your body.

“Tell me now, how close?” He huffed, though you couldn’t process what came out of his mouth, since you’re lost deep inside of heaven. Your eyes roll back and your mouth gaped open, gripping your skirt that’s at your hips with both of your hands.

Your vision turns black and you see nothing but stars, and König’s eyes trained at your arousal. You thought you lost hearing, since all you could hear was a loud ring in both of your ears. Your orgasm hitting you like a hammer to a nail. “Oh darling, no need to say a word, you were closer than I thought.” He quipped, taking his fingers out painfully slow.

The cold air made you wince, feeling the emptiness of his warmth when he took his fingers out of you. König left you stunned, taking his fingers into his mouth and finally tasting you.

As if tasting your mouth wasn’t enough, he tasted your arousal and your stomach flipped. The sight of him tasting you was something you’d see in a daydream, but that turned real. He licks his fingers clean, then looks at you hungrily. Leaving him addicted to your taste, and he wanted more.

“Divine.” He groaned, leaning into your body and dipping his head into your neck. Lifting his mask up and proceeding to kiss your neck, licking stripes of your skin. It was all so much for you, too much. It felt was like your soul ascended to the heavens, and it was König who made you feel like that. You feel so hazy, so lost in your emotions and feelings. It felt ecstatic, the heat between your legs became hotter when König kisses you.

Allowing you to taste yourself inside his mouth, almost unbelievable.

The kiss this time was tender and soft, but it quickly switched to the kiss from before. You wrap your hands around the nape of his neck, leaning him impossibly closer, and your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Allowing him deeper inside your soul.

“This will be a night you will never forget, Liebling, I will make you beg to have more, mein Schatz, my treasure. Mine.”

——

NOTE: Omg it’s finally out after just writing on it for a few days, I felt so motivated just finish this part. Which means there’ll be a third part, concluding the end of this series! I genuinely want to thank those for reading, means so much to me! :) Be sure to check the masterlist!

✯ Taglist! - @liyanahelena @sleepy-time-dreamy @yourmomsmilfmistress @backgroundgirl887 @cumikering @aly0be

[mothtral]

to you, the rain had not stopped rising since geshu lin disappeared. most would tell you at this point, to try and move on. that you'd planted a flower--the first flower--in the field jiyan made, so didn't that mean you'd accepted it, at least a little bit?

you hadn't. you won't accept he's gone until some trace of him was found. his necklace, the one you made for him before he left you behind the first time to head for the front lines. scraps of the armor that covered his arm.

jiyan used to approach you, in the beginning. though well-versed enough in consoling people in grief to not push you until you were ready. jiyan never told you, but it wasn't hard to figure you weren't the only one who would see geshu lin whenever it rained.

(though, you have a feeling what he sees is a different geshu lin to yours.)

you weren't part of the midnight rangers, or work for the magistrate. you meeting geshu lin was by chance, or fate, as yangyang used to say. you were a small seller, taking up crafting jewelry or fashioning clothing from scraps of fabric and yarn. it was during a large market that the midnight rangers returned home to, years ago.

that was the night you met geshu lin. you didn't know who he was at first, apart from clearly being a member of the military. it was something geshu lin would tease you about, unaware that the big bad general was haunting your doorstep. he was heavily bandaged, with scars covering the slips of skin you could see.

you crafted him a set of earrings after urging him to choose the beads he liked best, and sent him on his way, refusing to take his money. you said it was thanks for protecting the city. the next day there was a welcoming ceremony, and you nearly fainted once you discovered just who you met the night before.

and somehow, it carried on from there. little meetings and small gifts between you two. one late night you showed geshu lin how you made your jewelry, and woke up the next day to him sliding a ring onto your finger, something he spent the entire night on. the crown jewel was from the original earrings you made him.

you hadn't taken it off. the only change was that you wear it on a chain now, scared it might slip off your finger when you weren't paying attention one day and it's lost forever. just like--

today was the anniversary of geshu lin disappearing, and no one has done anything. you knew popular opinion these days is that he got what he deserved, refusing to fall back. as if these people knew what the midnight rangers went through everyday, with the limited knowledge on retroact rain back then.

the celebrations today are for the other rangers that fell that day, and it planted a bitter root in your heart. you hid in your home that day, waiting until the flower field was deserted to visit. you won't pay your respects, as everyone else did. instead, you will sit with the flower you planted and watch the stars, something you did every time geshu lin came home.

(something else jiyan never said, biy you knew once a certain time hit, he would usher people away from the field to give you a moment alone. whatever you did to gain a friend like that, you'd never know.)

there's a watering can set to the side, and you take it to gently trickle water onto geshu lin's flower. you were about to start with your ramblings of the day, when soft footsteps crept toward you.

"come to finally join me?" you asked over your shoulder, assuming it was jiyan making his way to you.

"yes," an achingly familiar voice said, low and rough, like it hasn't been used in years, like it's been torn apart from screaming.

your head snaps up as your body twisted around, almost falling over into the grass. there, standing at the edge of the field, was the man that stole your heart and disappeared into the rain with it. but... something is wrong.

maybe it was the strange light in his eyes, or the heavy air that surrounded him like a second skin. his clothes traded from the standard black with accents to gain red and white, and his arm almost tucked behind him, like he was a child trying to hide the vase he broke. this was not the same man that left for battle and never returned. "i'm sorry it took so long for me to come home," geshu lin said. he took a step closer, and it was then that you saw what became of his arm. it had turned to blacken scales, glimmering in the starlight. purple glowed from the cracks, like his ability couldn't turn off. "i never meant to leave you alone. i'm home."

[bonesandchalamet]

in this world, it’s just us — Finnick odair

masterlist | pairing: Finnick odair x reader

summary: in a world where hunger games don’t exist anymore it’s just you and Finnick

warnings: fluff

a/n: finally writing for finnick 🤭

you can hear his breath escape his lips, it’s faint, but it’s all that matters. he’s alive in your arms and in your bedroom.

nights were never the same, consisting of some form of him muttering incoherent words, legs thrashing, and thick sweat glistening against the sheets. the hunger games haunt him, even in a world where he’s safe.

there’s no president snow, there’s no more kids being hunted by others. the odds were in everyone’s favor, and people could sleep well again. except those in their respected districts victors villages.

the soft grunt that escapes his lips indicates he’s awake now. he rolls carefully onto his side, almost like he doesn’t want wake you, but you’ve been awake for some time. reflecting on what the nights could’ve been if finnick never was picked at such a young age.

“you’re doing it again.” he mutters, you feel him shift closer to you, his warm clammy skin pressed against yours, “you’re thinking about the if’s.”

he tsk’s you, and yanks the covers off your bodies to reveal the cool air of the house. it feels nice, after tossing and turning in the heat trapped sheets, you allow yourself to stretch out against the mattress and watch finnick rise for the day.

no day was ever the same, but finnick needed a new task everyday, or else he’d go insane. he needed to occupy himself from the loss and maybe even the ache. you never knew, he was a closed book about his experiences.

you watch him gather around to fish, a typical morning routine despite the overflowing amount of food in your house. you never objected or asked him not to go, it was the one thing finnick enjoyed and he could now do so freely. who were you to stop him?

“can I join you?” the words slip your mouth without a second guess, and he’s stopping in his tracks. you’ve never taken up much of an interest in fishing, not since you didn’t have to do so anymore, but you loathed sitting around waiting for him to return. plus, it gave you something to do as well.

“you better hurry.”

scurrying out of bed, you find yourself rushing with the sunrise and finnicks personal clock, but by the time you’re down by the water, no one else is even there and the sun is just starting to rise.

“what’s the plan?” you ask, turning to face him he’s got a trident in his hand, his typical choice of weapon that somehow made it back to district four along with him.

“we hunt, we go home, and then we eat.” he says offering a small smile before moving carefully and slowly into the water. he moves with such precision, careful not to alarm the fish. any movement and they’ll scatter along. you watch him hunt for awhile until it’s your turn, you don’t come up as lucky as he does, but he still applauds the three fish you killed.

“now we eat and save some for dinner.” he smiles, content with the couple hours of work done. without telling, it’s most likely noon and your stomach was reminding you of the lack of food in your stomach.

the hike home doesn’t take long and Finnick is cooking while you shower. the warm water trickles down your back, soothing away the morning worries. you take longer than you normally do, just to enjoy the silence your mind finally gives you before turning off the water.

emerging from the shower, he’s leaning in the doorway. a cocky smile against his lips that if it weren’t for his beauty, you’d attempt anyway to erase it.

“you think about me in there?”

“never in a million years would I think about you in my shower.” you pick up a soft towel, running the fabric all across your body and through the ends of your hair. out the corner of your eye, you can still see that smile. the smile that every girl falls for when finnick would enter a room. he’s easy to like, bright eyes, beautiful smile, golden blond hair, and an ego so big sometimes it’s adorable, other times? not so much.

“you’re awful at lying. it’s actually one of your worst traits.”

“and you’ve got an awfully big ego, it’s one of your worst traits.” you fire back with a smile on your face leaving him to roll his eyes and tell you lunch was waiting for you.

In this world, it's just us

You know it's not the same as it was

[xozombiee]

“AFTER HOURS!” | W. BONNEY

✫| synopsis: bartending in the west gets boring at times, especially when the same old cowboys and outlaws come through those saloon doors everyday. you’d thought this was it..that’s the end of your story. then a certain outlaw, who’s name was getting around, walked through the doors.

warnings: porn with little plot, mentions of death, riding, little praise..it’s always gonna be there, female bodied reader, lowk psy rubbing??, hair pulling me thinks, idk what else

note: am i doing this instead of my homework?…yes. also do i know wtf women wore in the 1800s? err no. i tried tho! this is not proofread btw

In a dusty, sun-kissed town nestled amidst the rugged landscape of the west, there stood a saloon that echoed with tales of grit and resilience. behind the polished mahogany bar, you stood tall with a fiery spirit that matched the flickering glow of the oil lamps that illuminated the room.

you weren’t any ordinary bartender; you were a force to be reckoned with. with glimmering eyes that held mystery, and a rough demeanor that you used to command respect from every patron who dared to enter the establishment. your hands, calloused from years of hard work, moved with grace and precision as you served up drinks that could raise spirits or drown sorrows.

though the town was dominated by rough cowboys and outlaws, you had carved out your own place in their rugged hearts. they sought solace in your presence, and you became a confidante, offering a sympathetic ear to the broken souls who stumbled through the doors.

as the sun began its descent, casting an orange hue over the town, your saloon transformed into a sanctuary of camaraderie and laughter. the clinking of glasses and the lively banter of patrons mixed with the soulful melodies of a lone pianist, creating a symphony that echoed through the wooden walls.

but behind the facade of joviality, you carried your own secrets and dreams. you arrived in this town not long ago, escaping a past that haunted your every step. determined to leave a mark on the world, you had chosen the life of a bartending, finding comfort in the stories and journeys of those who crossed paths with you.

with swift movements back and forth behind your bar, you served drinks to the men celebrating..whatever it was this time. they sang along with others, their words jumbled and lazy, but undoubtedly filled with passion. you laughed as one of them sung to you, his eyes droopy and a crooked smile at his lips.

cleaning a few glasses, you watch as they all chat amongst themselves, if they weren’t still singing that is. a part of you yearned to have a life like theirs. to be free to do whatever you please, and not be told otherwise. you’d liked the idea of running from place to place and meeting new people. though, that’d never happen for you.

your back turns as you gather the clean glasses together, putting them neatly side by side. the sound of the saloon doors open, a sound you were used to by now. with your back still turned, you notice how most of the attendees in the saloon had gone quiet, watching as the person and their footsteps approached the bar.

turning back around, you come face to face with a taller man. he wore a shabby black hat, a maroon corduroy jacket that sat along his shoulders, and a gun at his waist. two actually, you noted as the jacket moved when he sat at the bar.

with a polite smile, you come closer, holding his gaze with yours. “evening, sir. what can i get you?”

he gives you a tight lipped smile, “whiskey, please.”

you hold his gaze for a second longer before glancing back at the people in the saloon. they stared with either fear, or curiosity in their faces. a scowl grows on your lips, muttering a small ‘drunkards’ under your breath.

the man watches as you place a clean glass onto the bar, and grab a bottle filled with brown liquid. his gaze moves to the drink as it pours into the cup, almost filling to the brim.

“you look familiar,” your voice chimes in again. “have i seen you in here before?”

he shakes his head, gaze falling back to yours. “nah.” he replies. “just passing through.”

with a sigh falling from your nose, you try to read his expression; he looked tired. you weren’t an idiot, it was obvious he was on the run. you’d seen his face on the posters, but didn’t know what his name was or what he was wanted for.

your fingernail taps against the glossy wood of the bar. trying to hide your sympathetic expression, you glance around the room. “if you need anything else, let me know, yeah?”

he nods, watching as you walk away to tend to the other customers. the way you moved was calm despite working in such an intense environment. his eyes trailed up and down your figure before taking a sip from his glass.

it seemed like hours passed as you worked. going back and forth behind the counter was time consuming as it passed so quickly. more and more people were leaving the bar as the early hours of the next day were coming.

as you went to grab some glasses from tables, you notice as the man before was still at the bar. his head was hung low, eyes trained on his glass. he’d had about three glasses of whiskey by now, only taking sips from time to time.

you’d noticed through the night how people tried to approach him. he’d usually brush them off, or making small talk that ended in peaceful silence. he wasn’t someone that was easily approachable to the blind eye. he held a strong, cold demeanor.

after gathering all the dirty glasses, and kicking the last passed out drunkard, you slide back behind the bar. you take the bucket of dirty glasses to the small sink, placing it inside before turning the water on. as it fills, you stare at it as your mind falls else where.

before it overflows, you turn the faucet off. you pour a little soap into the mix before drying your hands off to let the glasses soak. with echoing footsteps, you turn back to the bar and are face to face with the man of the night.

“want another, or is three enough?” you ask, a slight smile at your lips.

he glances up at you, studying your expression for a moment. his eyes drop back to the wooden bar, fingers tapping his halfway-empty-glass.

“this is fine.” he answers.

your elbows come to rest at the cool wood, chin in your palm as you watch him. you’d debated for most of the night to ask him what exactly he was running from. it would probably sound stupid considering how everyone and their second cousin knew about it. all except for you, as you didn’t look much into news and such.

he stares back at you, giving you the same energy within his gaze. his blue eyes analyze every bit of you, and you almost shudder at the sight of it.

“so, how long you been on the run now?” you ask, voice interrupting each of your own thoughts.

he brings the glass to his lips, downing the rest before replying. “months.” he mutters, not even phased by your abrupt question.

you hum in reply, “alone?”

“mhm.”

with his short and simple response, you laugh. it wasn’t out of humor, but rather more of irritation. you’d think someone as well known as him would talk more. most outlaws never shut up about flaunting their reputations. it’s different.

“you’re not a man of many words.” you say, not really caring about how he’d take your tone.

he shrugs, sucking his teeth a bit. “i’ve got nothing to say.”

you raise a brow, “tell me a story or something. i hear the same shit every night from my regulars. give me something new.” you request.

pouring a little more whiskey into his glass, you watch as his eyes dart to yours. “it’s on me.” you assure, giving him a smile.

the man sighs, tilting his head a little at the thought. what could he tell you? that he killed a man? that he fought a man in a saloon just like yours right before shooting him in the stomach out of defense? no..you’d probably already heard it anyways.

“what do you already know about me?” he questions, taking another sip.

your eyes squint at him, “i know you’re an outlaw on the run, obviously..and that’s about it. i don’t even know what the hell they call you.” you reply.

he chuckles, a small smile at his lips. “you’re probably one of the first.” he says. “just call me billy.”

with another hum, you nod slowly and give him your name. “billy..yeah, i think i did hear that once or twice.”

“well, either way, i don’t have many stories to tell.”

your eyes roll, a huff coming from your nose. “tell me why you’re an outlaw. i’ve heard like three different stories, and it can’t be all of them.”

billy smiles again, eyes falling from yours and to your lips for a split second. you watch him debate in his head before taking his hat off. he sets it on the empty stool next to him, running his fingers through his hair. he had brown shaggy hair that was sprawled all over his head.

“i killed a man. it was self defense.” he says, almost as if he was pleading his case.

you deadpan at him, “that’s all i get? not even a backstory?”

“there’s not much to it. he was making accusations at me..which weren’t entirely false, then he came at me. we fought over my gun, and i shot.” he elaborates, glancing at you with disinterest as if it was a meaningless story.

you fall quiet for a moment, brows raised while processing his words. that story was heard, but you didn’t know if it was the truth until now. the other stories were about robbing a bank and killing a bunch of people. hearing the actual story now..you couldn’t understand all the fuss.

a laugh falls from your lips, hand moving to pinch the bridge of your nose. “so, all this talk is because you killed a man that was attacking you?”

“yes, ma’am.”

your smile remains for a bit, eyes watching billy. “so, what now? you just gonna keep running?”

he shrugs once more, eyes kept on his glass. “probably.”

“have you at least slept?”

billy shakes his head. you chew on the inside of your cheek, contemplating multiple things in your head. if you offered him a place to sleep in the loft above your saloon, he’d probably laugh in your face. but, a part of you didn’t want him out on the street sleeping defenseless.

as a other sigh falls from you, you move away from the bar and stand straight. “i’ve got an extra room where i stay. wanna take it for the night?”

his eyes find yours, expression vague, “are you sure? i mean, i don’t wanna—”

“it’s fine. i’d feel guilty if i opened up tomorrow and my regulars are telling me you got killed in your sleep.”

billy focuses on you for awhile before taking one last sip. he lightly places the glass on the counter before moving to grab some money from his pocket.

your hand finds his wrist as he places it on the counter. “keep it. just take your ass upstairs while i finish up.”

he grins a little, grabbing his hat and standing from the stool. billy slowly moves to the door at the back of the saloon, opening it and disappearing from sight. you roll up your sleeves as you move back to the sink, dipping your hands into the soapy water to clean the glasses.

after about ten minutes, you make way up to your loft in the building. your footsteps slightly echo as you move toward the light in the living room. when you reach the floor, you watch as billy sits on the couch with his head thrown back on the edge while his hat covered up his face.

slowly approaching in front of him, you lightly kick his shin. he snaps his head up, eyes wide as his hat falls to his lap. he lets out a small breath in relief, making you smile. you watch as he sits up on the couch.

“scared the shit out of me.” he mumbles, putting that ragged hat on again.

you move to sit next to him, bouncing lightly on the cushions. “must’ve been too tired to hear me coming up the steps.”

he leans into the couch once more, eyes trained on the ceiling. you watched his expression and how he studied the whiteness of the panels above.

“penny for your thoughts?” you whisper, watching his eyes shift over to you.

billy shakes his head, scoffing a little to himself. “it’s nothing. just thinking.”

“about?”

“everything.”

you let your gaze falter, moving to the floor. “everything that’s happened?” you ask.

he nods, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. billy wants nothing more than to go back and stop everything that’s happened. to change what got him to this point.

but if he did that, he would’ve never met you. you were one of the kindest people to him since the incident. the way you carried yourself, much like him, was with confidence. he respected you, and that aspect of your personality.

“i understand what it’s like..kind of.” you say, patting down the wrinkles in your outfit. “i was never wanted, but i’ve done things. things i wish i could take back.”

billy watches as you speak, the way your lips move and the expression you hold shifts with each emotion running through you. he almost doesn’t understand what you’re saying. the only thing keeping him to reality was the fact you sounded serious.

he adjusts himself on the furniture, “what have you done?” he asks, a part of him afraid to know the answer.

“i’ve killed.” you reply, the tone of your voice dropping lowly. “it was in defense, like you.”

billy watches the way you bounce your knee against the flooring of the loft. the dress you wear moves along with it, and your shoe lightly taps.

“when did it happen?” he asks as his pure curiosity gets the best of him.

you look up at him, smiling a little. “i was fourteen.”

billy looks at you, empathizing with your situation. though he wasn’t that young when it happened, he still felt some sort of connection with your experience.

“i don’t regret killing him honestly, but i regret hurting my family and his. they didn’t deserve to go through that. it wasn’t any of their faults.” you say as you breathe out slowly.

in an small moment, his hand is on yours. it’s a light touch, like he’s afraid to hurt you. billy moves his other hand to the space beneath your chin, and shifts your head to look at him in the eyes.

his voice is light, “you were defending yourself. it wasn’t your fault either.” billy whispers.

the words make your heart swell. after everything, hearing those words made it all feel better. almost all the guilt left your veins. he was right after all. it wasn’t your fault. what that man did..you just did what you had to.

as he holds your gaze, you slowly inch toward him. his blue irises bore into yours, watching as you shift them to his lips. they were slightly chapped and held a small frown on them.

billy leaned closer to you and your breaths mingled, like two lights finding each other in the darkness. he could feel your heart beating against your ribcage, as all of his senses were focused on you and you alone.

he closed the distance, and his lips met yours. billy felt himself melt into you like a magnet. everything muted itself, and his hands made way to your waist. he pulled you onto him, your knees caging around his thighs.

your hands found their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer. he tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin against his. the room seemed to dissolve around you as the only thing in existence was this. this perfect union.

time stood still, and you both wanted more, but neither wanting it to initiate it. then, with what restraint he had left, he pulled away, his lips still grazing yours.

he looks up at you, his eyes filled with worry. “im sorry, i didn’t mean—”

“shut up.”

pressing your lips back to his, he lets out a grunt in reply before melting into you once more. the warmth of you, your lips, your being that sat in his lap—he felt lightheaded. billy moved his hands to your waist again, slowly trailing them up your back.

you feel the buttons of your dress being undone. he stops right before taking the sleeves off, prying himself away from you. billy’s eyes look into yours for confirmation, and you give him a quick, impatient nod in reply.

with that, he pulls the dress off slowly. your lips trail from his own to his neck, putting the flesh between your teeth. he groaned, trying to focus on untying your corset.

as he removed it, he wasted no time to discard it to the floor, hands making way to take off the chemise you wore.

“all those months on the run got you impatient now, cowboy?” you mutter, laughing as he would struggle from time to time.

billy looks up at you, his gaze slightly hidden by his hat, “no, just none of the women i’ve been with wore this much underneath. i’m also not a cowboy, sweetheart.”

rolling your eyes, you grab at his wrists to stop him. he looks up at you, big eyes and all, causing the built up pressure in your lower stomach to worsen. “just leave it. i’m not wearing anything under, so don’t fuss.”

you watch him nod slowly as he started to stare, making no move to take off his clothes. “do i have to do it for you?” you whisper, hands undoing the brown suspenders on his shoulders.

he shakes his head, moving to unbutton his pants he wore. you watch the way he fumbles with them, sliding them midway down his thighs. billy’s hands eventually move back to your waist, bunching up your chemise to your hips.

billy’s eyes watch as your pretty pussy comes into view, sitting in his lap with such a prepossessing aura. he has to restrain himself from taking you right then.

his dick was hard and twitching, the length had an angry tip with its slit profusely leaking pre-cum. it looked painful and it was because of you. you. you wondered if you had power over him now for a brief second but you shake your head clear of these thoughts.

instead, you catch his lips again, the kiss slower this time. you raise yourself a bit so he can align himself to your entrance. the cool touch of his hand meets your cunt, sliding a finger through the folds and collecting the juices flowing from you.

he uses your slick and spreads it across your sensitive pussy. you took a deep breath of air into your lungs. this feeling was new, since no man you’d been with ever did this, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

a small groan falls from billy’s lips as he uses it to prep himself, guiding his hand along his cock and pumping it slowly. he was on the girthy side with veins on the underside of his cock.

you knew you would stretch around him, that your walls would be a perfect fit around his length. you were too impatient for any sort of foreplay; you wanted the stretch. you wanted him to make you dizzy with his cock splitting you apart.

billy grabs your hips with his unoccupied hand, bringing you closer to him. you let out a whimper as you began to sink onto him, eyes flicking to his. those blue ones he held were zeroed down to the place you both were connected now.

his hands are on either side of your hip, guiding you down on his length. it was after his cock was fully stuffed in you, that his self-control allowed him to almost whine at the feeling of you.

your hands are on his shoulders to support yourself. your fingers weakly fist his shirt as you begin to ride him, raising yourself a few inches before slamming down on his cock with a loud moan escaping your lips. he reached the deepest spot inside of you somehow. no one had ever done that. not like this.

his cockhead grazes your spongy spot as you fuck yourself on him. arousal and his pre-cum are smeared all over your thighs. this sight made billy’s breath hitch, something you didn't notice as you were too busy with your eyes closed and taking him. you looked completely dissoluted like this.

your hair was a mess now, your lips glossy and swollen, hands digging into his shoulder. billy felt himself become enraptured by you and this sight. it was something he could get used to..if he wasn’t an outlaw that is.

he pulls you closer to him. one of his hands is on your back, pressing you to him. his hips raise upwards to fuck you as he now lets out more vocal sounds of enjoyment.

watching him with a hazy gaze, you remove the hat from his head. you place it onto your own, grinning at how he stares up at you like you were the creator of all living beings and creatures on this earth.

moving one of your hands from his shoulder, you bring it to his hair and give some strands a tug. he groans, the vibrations of his chest transferring to his dick, which transferred to you.

each thrust of his was made for his selfishness in your velvet walls. the drag of his cock was perfect, his speed was unbelievable. it was like heaven itself, but without the pearly gates and clouds.

while stuck in your own brain, the feeling of teeth bring you back to reality. you let a shuddered sigh fall as billy digs into the collarbone that peaked from your square-necked chemise. he slowly kisses up your neck, bringing a hand to the back of your head.

“fuck..’s too good,” he mutters, trying to keep his voice even.

you laugh, making him groan a little. he looks up, watching as you bounce with one hand held on his hat to keep it on. “too good? were all your other girls shit?”

he lets out short breaths, his blue eyes studying the way you moved as if he was in a trance. billy would answer if he wasn’t on another planet right now. a planet where you were taking him so deliciously, almost to the point where he could pass out.

“fuck,” he says under his breath as your pussy clenches around him. “where do you want it?” his voice was strained from trying to keep his composure.

you pant, “inside.”

billy doesn’t waste a second before obliging and quickening his pace, making the hat on your head fall lopsided. you could feel the pressure in you tightening, almost about to burst like a pipe.

he moves his thumb to rub at your clit, and the tip of his cock repeatedly nudges against that one spot that has you falling apart on top of him with a loud cry. your orgasm hits you hard and billy can’t hold it in any longer. he fucks into you for another minute, eyes squeezed shut as he groans out your name.

billy groans when you flutter around him as you cum. he’s thrusting his hips up into you with his newfound force. it requires you to tighten your grip on his shoulders to stay put as he empties his load deep inside you, his sweet moans echoing in the living room.

your cunt milks him dry, and he fills you up to the brim—to the point where you could feel him leak out of you. the both of you pause, your hands resting on his chest as you catch your breath.

he slowly eases his cock out of you. the both of you were breathing heavily as he pulls you closer, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. you wrap you arms around his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“wanna share my bed?” you whisper.

tags: @m0rphys

[stvrlightgirl]

✧˖°. So caught up in you ✧˖°.

part four

part one, part two, part three

summary: After the date, you can’t help but overthink every aspect of it, turns out it was just your mind playing tricks on you, and good men still exists.

pairing: primary school teacher!remus lupin x single mom f!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, crying, overthinking.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: I am so grateful for all of your likes, reblogs and comments guys, it truly gives me the power to continue this series, because I know that there is someone who actually like what I write, lov u <3

Enjoy! taglist masterlist

"She was amazing. I mean, I’ve never met someone like her, you know? She’s just different in a good way.” He sighed.

After your last date, he couldn't stop thinking about you. Almost a week had passed, and your relationship was blossoming faster than he thought it would, but he certainly had no complaints. Now, he saw you nearly every day when you dropped off Molly at school. Somehow, he always managed to be nearby, and your eyes would meet unexpectedly, as if it was meant to happen. You exchanged messages a few times a day, and without fail, he always sent you a good morning and goodnight message, no matter what he was doing. Grading papers, going to bed? Not without sending you a "Goodnight, sweetheart. Hope you had a good day."

After all that happened, he wasn’t so shy anymore. Instead, he wanted to make you blush every time he saw you. You just looked so cute when your cheeks started to get red after a minute of him speaking without breaking eye contact.

"You dozed off again, mate” Sirius snapped him out of his lethargy with his irritated voice. "She got you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?” A smirk appeared on his face, when he saw how Remus’s eyes started gleaming.

Remus took a sip of his bear and leaned against the chair.

It was one of their favorite haunts, a cozy pub with dark wooden furnishings and a comforting, lived-in feel. The bubbling hum of conversation and the low strumming of a live acoustic guitar warmth the room.

"And you don't even notice," he added after a moment, his voice tinged with amusement.

"Maybe…but I don’t think I want to notice.” He chuckled.

The truth was, yeah. You got him wrapped around his finger, and it’s was scary, because he wanted more and more everyday, and it was a dangerous game to play.

"Give yourself a chance, Moony," he said, leaning forward on the table. "It's now or never. From what I've heard she's really something special. Girls like her don't come around often." He gave him a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, you should know something about it.” He snorted sarcastically.

"Oh come on, I sleep around because I didn’t found the one, yet, so don’t judge me, that’s my way to do this!”

Remus shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I know, Sirius. But maybe, just maybe, it's time to think about changing your ways."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Look who's talking. Mr. Commitment himself. Just because you've found someone special doesn't mean everyone's that lucky."

"True," Remus admitted. "But luck has nothing to do with it. Sometimes, it's about taking a chance."

Sirius took a long sip of his drink, pondering Remus's words. "Maybe you're right," he said finally, drifting off to his own thoughts for a second.

"But I’m giving this chance, definitely.” Remus said after a while, and then the two of them took a long sip of their beers.

"Cheers to that, then.”

"I’m giving this a chance, Marlene but I’m scared to make mistake, it’s so frustrating.”

You sat on your couch, talking on your phone with Marlene. You had been replaying the date over and over in your head, analyzing every little detail. Though you had genuinely enjoyed yourself, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt. Then she called you. A true miracle for your sorrows.

Were you ready to start dating again? Could you balance a new relationship with the demands of being a mom? These questions swirled in your mind, refusing to be silenced.

"Girl, sometimes you think too much, just let go already! He’s a fine man, the most decent you’ll probably find ever, so where’s all this doubt coming from him?"

"It’s different, I have a daughter, and I don’t want her to suffer, when he decides I’m not the one.” Your lips quivered, and you wanted to cry.

She sighed, making a comfortable pause.

"Babes, I know it's scary, but sometimes it's worth it. Besides, didn't he make it clear on the date that he liked where this is going? Maybe you should just message him and see for yourself, maybe you should just talk to him, it’s a key to connection.”

"I just don’t want to mess this up, Marl," you whispered, rubbing your eyes with your fingers.

”And you won’t, trust me.”

The sound of small footsteps interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Molly standing in the doorway, clutching her favorite stuffed animal, a well-loved bunny named Floppy.

"Mommy, why are you still awake?" Molly asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing her eyes.

"I have to go, Molly just woke up.” you said, ending the call with a quick goodbye. You placed your phone on the coffee table and sighed.

Then, you managed a smile, patting the spot next to you on the couch. "Just thinking about grown-up stuff, sweetie. Come here, sweetie.”

Molly trotted over and climbed onto the couch, snuggling up next to you. “Is it about Mr. Lupin?" She whispered, rubbing her tired eyes.

Caught off-guard, you looked down at Molly, who gazed up at you with innocent curiosity. You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yes, it is." You sigh.

Molly's face brightened. "I like him, Mommy. He's nice and tells funny stories in class."

You felt a lump form in her throat. "I'm glad you like him, Molly. I think I like him too.” You whisper the last part to yourself.

Molly yawned, nuzzling her stuffed bunny. “If you like him, then why are you sad?”

You lowered your gaze to meet hers, and with a gentle movement, you extended your arm to pull her toward you, drawing her close as she snuggled into your side.

“It’s nothing sweetie. Mommy’s okay.” You smiled encouragingly. “It was just a tough day.”

"Can we read a story before bed then?” Molly asked, her eyes already drooping but filled with hope.

"Course!" you exclaimed with infectious enthusiasm, lifting her gently into your arms. "We need to find out where the little prince will be doing today!" With a grin, you carried her towards her bedroom.

She let out a joyous giggle as you spun her around in your arms, creating a gentle breeze between you. Her laughter filled the air, and a grin spread across your face as you continued to move towards her bedroom.

Once Molly was tucked comfortably under the warmth of her blanket, you selected one of her favorite books and started to read aloud. As you flipped through the pages, your thoughts began to drift towards Remus, and despite your best efforts to focus on the story, his face kept appearing in your mind, his smile and gentle demeanor tugging at your heartstrings.

On the other side, your thoughts were a whirlwind of mixed emotions. Ever since you had returned from the date, a battle was raging in your mind. You couldn't deny how perfect the moment had been between the two of you, but the lingering fear of facing the same heartache and letdown again was clouding your judgment. Despite the growing feeling in your chest, the thought of opening yourself up to potential pain felt overwhelmingly terrifying.

After a short while, you glanced down at Molly and noticed she was fast asleep. Smiling warmly, you leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her head. Quietly, you made your way back to the living room, settling onto the couch as you grabbed your phone. Your finger hovered over Remus's contact, an internal debate unfolding within you. Should you text him or not?

Fuck it, your mind screamed.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you started typing a message and without further thinking you hit send.

“Hey, I know it’s late. Just wanted to say goodnight.”

Fuck, why did you do it in the first place anyway, he probably won’t answ-

And then you saw three dots blinking.

“Hey, everything’s alright?”

Your fingers froze as you pondered your reply.

”Yeah, why?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

”Can I come over? Just for a minute.”

You felt tears gathering in your eyes, and It took him a second after your reply to realize you weren’t okay.

”Please.”

He was there after 15 minutes of walk, knocking on your door at 11 pm at night. Was he crazy? Maybe, but he couldn’t care less when you gave him such weird text. Maybe you didn’t want to take this thing between you any further? Oh god that’s was the worst scenario.

When you unlocked the door, he saw you looking miserable, with tired eyes that spoke of sleepless night. You hesitated as you stared at him, and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself. Then he really looked at you and saw that your eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Those pretty eyes sad, with something he couldn’t decipher. Something inside him broke at the sight, and he knew he had to do something to make it better.

“Y/N?”

“I…”

“Can I come in or is it too much right now?” He asked with a soft voice that made you shed a single tear down your cheek as you felt the warmth of his concern.

He was too good for you, but you loved it more than anything.

“Yes, you can.”

You stepped aside from the entrance, and he moved closer, gently closing the door behind him. As he approached, his eyes softened with concern, and you could feel the comfort of his presence wrapping around you.

”What’s going on, can I help somehow?” His voice carried a hint of panic at seeing you so upset, but he was determined to face it.

”I’m just…I’m so scared, I don’t want to even think about it anymore.” Your voice trembled, and with it, your tears began to fall. You pulled your cardigan tighter around yourself, seeking comfort, but it did little to ease your misery.

”C’mere.” He stepped closer, his hands gently reaching for your waist. When you leaned in, burying your face in his chest, he felt a lump form in his throat. As your tears continued to fall, he had to gulp, struggling to keep his composure. The sight of you so vulnerable and upset pierced his heart, and despite the comforting embrace he offered, he couldn’t help but feel a deep ache inside. He wished he could take away your pain, holding you tighter as if his warmth alone could make everything right.

His palms gently moved to your back, pressing you closer until you were completely enveloped in his embrace. From the outside, it must have looked incredibly sweet, with you looking so small and delicate in his arms, like he was trying to shield you from the world, but now, all he could think about were your cries, each one tugging at his heart.

“What are you scared of, hm?” He whispered softly, waiting for a while as your cries began to quiet down.

”I just down want to fuck this up.” You confessed softly, your words still muffled against his chest as you kept your face hidden. He held you tighter, his heartbeat steady and reassuring against your cheek, fingers gently brushing through your hair.

”This?” He sounded confused.

”Us.” You added.

And then it clicked.

”Can you look at me, sweetheart?” He reached for your face, and when he managed to finally look in your eyes again, he couldn’t help but gather your tears with his thumb. You closed your eyes at the feeling of his warm hands against your skin, nearly melting away and momentarily forgetting everything on your mind.

Were you this touch starved? Pathetic.

"It’s so stupid, actually," you began. ”We were just on our first date, and now I’ve probably scared you off. You must think I’m some psycho who—"

“Hey, that’s not what I think, and you shouldn’t either. Don’t ever call yourself a psycho again,” he said, his gaze softening. It pained him to hear you label yourself like that.

“You don’t?” You gave him look of a scared little lost child.

Fuck, what did you do to him?

“I know that you’re scared for Molly, I can see it in your eyes every time we mention her, but it’s okay. It’s okay to not be okay, and to be scared. Sometimes I’m scared of fucking things up too. I want it to be right for both of us, for Molly. It might be too early, but I care about you, and I don’t mean no harm when I say I’m ready to explore things between us further, whenever you are ready, at your pace, no bullshit. I’m not like this, Y/N.”

You listened with a mix of shock and curiosity as he spoke, each word planting seeds of hope and warmth in your heart. His sincerity and the depth of his feelings started to dissolve the fears that had clouded your mind. You could feel that familiar warmth growing inside you, a comforting reminder that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time. His reassurance and patience began to heal the doubts you had, filling you with a renewed sense of possibility and trust.

“Are you even real?” you chuckled, a bit amazed.

He returned your smile and squeezes your waist playfully.

The tense atmosphere shifted to something more relaxed.

“Well, you’re here, standing in my arms, that doesn’t feel real for you, dove?” He teased, giving you a small wink. That melted all of your doubts for now.

“So now that everything’s clear, maybe you should come in properly?” You looked at his watch, gently removing his one hand from your waist to look at it, which made him snort with a small laugh. “It’s not that late, honestly.”

“You think it’s a good idea? What about Molly? If she sees me, she might be in a slight shock.”

“She’s asleep. I read herThe Little Prince every night, and it gives her the sweetest dreams, so she’s probably in a really deep sleep right now.”

He considered your proposition for a moment, then nodded softly with a warm smile.

“Ok, just for a moment though. I have to go back to my place, you know?” He joked.

And then a moment turn into hours, and he found himself holding you on his chest, in your living room, snoring cutely, after a glasses of wine you insisted to share with him. You were tangled in a blanket which he eventually reached for, because you started to shiver a bit. As he was looking at you, he suddenly realised how quickly he become attached to you. And it scared him then, but now, it’s was something he could get used to.

He really saw himself every night with you in his arms, and that thing changed something in his mind, forever.

He wanted this to become truth, after years of being alone.

He finally felt happy.

taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy @belle-blue @lovelylupin04 @moonyanddaisies @harryslimebike @mooonyxoxo @lydipop @idohknow @ahead-fullofdreams @spirit-of-the-hollow @aheadfullofsteverogers

[novelistrry]

Wind picked up, swirling around the two as she approached him. There was a leather riding jacket hooked on one of the stable doors, and as she approached him directly, he unhooked it and propped it around her shoulders. Reaching down, he began buttoning it up, until his eyes met her.

The sheepish look she had on her face nearly brought him to his knees. “How were your dreams?”

Her face felt hot. Was it noticeable? “Are you teasing me?”

A smile danced across his lips, bringing his hand to her hair and softly caressing it. “Of course not, Princess.”

Or

Harry is a prince, Y/N is a princess, and neither of them know how to feel.

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, forced proximity, fake dating, tension, etc.

Warning: Mentions of panic attacks, nightmares, praise kink, deception, an awkward sexual encounter (consensual of course), etc! Also, this is not proofread.

Word Count: 4k, sorry it's so short D:

Part One

II. The Rain

Niall had been growing increasingly frustrated with Harry as the days passed. As Harry’s hand, and his best friend, he knew Harry was not as cruel as he made himself out to be. This plan of his, this deceit was one of the cruelest things Harry had ever thought of.

Everyday, Niall asked him if he really felt that this plan was sound, and everyday Harry would show remorse. Every now and again, Niall wanted to roll the words “you’re acting like a frightened child” off his tongue, but never could bring himself to hurt Harry’s feelings like that.

As wrong as it felt, as wrong as it was, his loyalty was not to Harry, it was to Y/N, which made him feel like scum at the bottom of a sea barrel. He could not imagine the guilt that was weighing on Harry’s conscience. He knew his friend. He knew his heart.

___ 

Y/N was floating on a cloud, the air smelled sweet like the grapes growing on the vineyards just South of the castle, and Harry looked so wonderful walking in front of her. A white linen shirt was loosely tucked into his riding pants, and his riding boots hit just under his knees. She could almost see his back muscles through the shirt. It was mouth watering, really. Y/N chose to walk a few steps behind him to admire what he looked like from the back, how beautiful his silhouette was.

As if he could feel her eyes on him, he turned. “Hello, dear.”

Her stomach coiled, and she nearly kicked herself for it. “Hi.”

Wind picked up, swirling around the two as she approached him. There was a leather riding jacket hooked on one of the stable doors, and as she approached him directly, he unhooked it and propped it around her shoulders. Reaching down, he began buttoning it up, until his eyes met her.

The sheepish look she had on her face nearly brought him to his knees. “How were your dreams?”

Her face felt hot. Was it noticeable? “Are you teasing me?”

A smile danced across his lips, bringing his hand to her hair and softly caressing it. “Of course not, Princess.”

For a second, she thought maybe he would kiss her but when Brad came out of nowhere, Harry’s hand immediately dropped, putting a chunk of distance between them. Y/N couldn’t help the way her face contorted with disappointment. The way he immediately put space between them almost seemed like he was embarrassed to be acquainted with her.

She never understood exactly what they were, exactly where the boundaries were. Sometimes it felt like they were utterly obsessed with each other, and other times it felt like they were merely conversing because they needed to. The winds grew harsher as Brad neared them. The sound of the wind was like a murmur in the air, musical and somewhat daunting.

Dark clouds had surrounded the palace, signifying rain, which was not ideal riding weather. It was much too dangerous. The sound of the wind replicating the kind of haunting music you would hear the string section play in a Royal Theatre added to the ominous darkness.

“Still doing it, Princess? I’m proud of you,” Brad clapped his hands together, in support of her showing up for riding lessons.

Harry’s jaw clenched together, and his eyebrow twitched as he licked across his teeth. If Y/N knew any better, she would have thought this is something he does when he’s annoyed, “Right, she does very well.”

Her mind rushed, flooding with everything Harry had said about letting Brad into his bed. Was he upset that Brad had complimented her, when he should be complimenting Harry? The pair were so hot and cold, it was beginning to give her whiplash.

Brad and Harry exchanged a few pleasantries as Y/N brought her fingers to Freya’s coat, getting acquainted with the horse once more. Freya was so lovely, and strikingly beautiful.

As Brad scurried off, Y/N had Harry’s completely undivided attention once more. 

“I want to get on Freya today.” Y/N spoke the words before she even fully thought them in her head. Her eyes went wide, but she knew why she said it. She wanted Harry to be astounded, to be completely winded with her.

Harry chuckled, tightening the bridle around Freya’s head. When Y/N didn’t say anything in response, he looked over at her and realized she was serious.

“No,” he spoke in a low voice, dancing around the subject with caution.

Anger swarmed her veins, like all of her blood cells had been replaced. Who was he to tell her no? Her ears felt hot, and Y/N’s nose scrunched. It was a habit she picked up as a young child when something didn’t go her way. Whenever she felt her nose scrunch and her eyebrows furrow, she felt like a small child demanding things go the way she wants. 

“What do you mean no?” She grabbed the bridle from Harry’s hand, and he couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his mouth. Y/N was even more endearing when she was angry.

Carefully, he grabbed her by the waist, spinning her around so that their chests were pressed together. Taking a breath as the harsh winds racked through the stables, he smelled the scent of her. Vanilla and cinnamon; mouth watering and sweet.

“It means that you are precious to me,” Harry clicked his tongue, eyes locking with hers as if he were trying to convey everything he felt through his eyes. “And you don’t need to impress me.”

“How do you know that I’m not ready?” Y/N’s jaw clicked again, the scowl still apparent on her face, even with his swoon-worthy words. She would not be swayed by his charm.

Harry glanced over to where her hand was white-knuckling the bridle. When she followed his glance, she realized that her hand shook slightly, a nervous habit she picked up after her bad experience horseback riding.

He realized that he needed to approach this delicately; she was stubborn, hard-headed, and did not like to be told she couldn’t do something. He, at times, was so similar to her that it was like they were different sides of the same coin.

She dropped her hand, a deep shame washing through her. It was like he knew everything she was feeling by the microexpressions fleeting across her face. 

He took her hands in his. Freya was starting to become an unwelcome third, because everytime he touched her, even in the most platonic way, she craved more.

“Don’t feel shame,” he said softly.

“I…” She trailed off, eyes glued to the ground. It was hard to look at him, and know that he was the picture-perfect prince, and she was so not. “I am not used to being… not good at something.”

Harry chuckled, and when she looked at him, she had never realized how he looked at her with so much delicacy. “I’m the worst sport you’ll ever meet, Y/N. If I am not good at something, it throws my temper. Just ask Niall. I wish I had an ounce of your poise.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” She asked quietly.

“Because… Someone must have told you that it’s not okay to feel fear and I don’t like that.” Harry looped his fingers under her chin, forcing Y/N to take her eyes off the ground and look at him. “We start small, like you did when you were first learning as a child.”

He grimaced at the poor choice of words, comparing her skill level to that of a child’s. Y/N was so easy to discourage, and he felt like he couldn’t say anything correctly.

Y/N saw the grimace and let it go. “So what do we do today?”

“How about today you just sit on Freya. I’ll hold onto her bridle, and you sit in the saddle. No walking, no trotting, just sitting.”

She chewed on the inside of her lip. “For how long?”

“Not too long,” he promised.

And with that said, his hands were all over her, helping her mount Freya. As soon as she was up, her thighs squeezing the horse tightly, he was watching for her micro-expressions that told him he needed to help her off immediately. 

But she didn’t have any. If anything, a small smile formed on her lips, like she was proud she got on in the first place. Usually, she chickened out, but with Harry, she felt safe and cared for.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N.” Harry spoke, gripping the bridle closely. His hand rubbed her leg as she looked down at him. Swallowing, he realized he had been gripping the bridle with all his might, white-knuckling it the same way that she was earlier. Harry was feeling more nervous than Y/N was, and a deep sense of pride had him smiling from ear-to-ear as she confidently sat atop Freya.

She muttered an embarrassed-thanks, but by the way her head turned and her smile got bigger, he knew that she was liking the positive attention from her.

“You’re such a good girl, darling,” Harry said softly, his hands now resting on Freya’s sides to ensure she would not move.

“Me or Freya?” Y/N mumbled.

“Both, but I was talking to you, sweet girl.” She was melting.

Freya, feeling sick of their conversation and not being able to go anywhere, shifted her weight from one leg to the other. The sudden movement threw Y/N, causing a yelp to sound from her throat. Immediately, Harry dropped the bridle and reached for her hands, pulling her off of Freya and into his chest.

Whispering in her ear, he tried to soothe her before it led to a panic attack. “You’re okay, you’re fine. Sometimes they get tired of having all their weight on one side, just like us, so they move to get more comfortable. It’s normal,” he hushed her, “You’re okay.”

She shook slightly, but there were no tears or signs of panic in her eyes. As soon as Freya moved and Y/N yelped, Harry was there, pulling her head into his chest and reassuring her. 

“Thank you,” she muttered.

He pulled her away, enough to scan her face and make sure that she was actually okay.

“I think that frightened me more than it frightened you, Y/N.” He laughed softly, earning a grin from her. “That’s enough for the day.”

Harry led Freya back to her stable, removing the bit and bridle from around her mouth. Y/N overheard him promise to come out a little later and ride her, or let her run wild in the tall grass behind the stables for some extra exercise. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an apple slice he had stolen from one of the breakfast carts in the hallway and fed it to Freya with an open palm. Harry’s intention was to have Y/N do it, to get over the fear of their massive teeth, but he thought she had enough scare for one day and didn’t trust her to set a boundary she was actually comfortable with.

Using her fingers, Y/N unbuttoned the coat Harry had put on her. She was fixing to put it back on the rack, where Harry had originally had it then head back inside, but he stopped her, letting her know that he wanted to stay out here for a while longer.

Walking together, they found themselves in a large tack shed with a bench for removing riding boots. There were so many tools and instruments for the horses and Y/N didn’t quite understand what they were for, but she had a feeling he didn’t bring her in here for a lesson on tools and riding equipment. 

As predicted, the rain began pouring. Pitter patters of rain, hitting the shed pinged off the wooden roof, some of the holes allowing for water droplets to seep in.. It was cold, but she felt cozy nuzzled so closely next to him. Harry was so warm and so safe.

As soon as the door shut behind them, their bodies were pressed together and his lips were merely inches from her own. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

She nodded, but then added, “Why won’t you do it in front of anyone?”

He spoke, now his lips pressed against hers, “This isn’t going to be a gentle peck, Y/N. How would they feel seeing my tongue on the inside of their precious princess’ mouth?”

Harry was so vulgar, sometimes the words that came out of his mouth shocked her, and the gasp that slipped past her lips, Harry used to slide his tongue along her bottom lip and pull her lip between his teeth.

Using the wall made from plywood, Harry moved her so that Y/N’s back was pressed against the wall. His thigh was fitted between her legs as his lips moved against her own. They stayed like this for a while, small moans falling from Y/N’s mouth, and each moan went straight to Harry’s core. He liked earning those from her. He liked being with her.

“I wanna feel you,” Y/N said, and even she was shocked by how outright she said it. With each day, she felt more comfortable expressing her needs to Harry, and when those four words tumbled from her lips, their faces still pressed together, he couldn’t help the vulnerable moan that escaped his own.

“You want my fingers or my mouth, doll?” Harry took a step away, so her body wasn’t smushed between the wall and his own. He wanted to see her face as she answered, as her eyes flickered around the room and she begged for either his fingers or his mouth.

She opened her mouth, then shut it again. That small bead of confidence was beginning to wither away. As if he could read her like the back of his hand, he understood that she was growing too bashful to respond.

“You want both my fingers and my mouth? You don’t have to say it, you can just say yes or no.” Harry tacked on the last end to make this experience as comfortable as possible. They hadn’t been together very much, but he always wanted her to feel safe with him.

“No, no.” She responded, looking down.

His brow quirked upward. “I’m not understanding, Y/N.”

Gently, she pressed a kiss to his neck, her tongue darting over the exposed skin as she suckled softly. It was almost like second nature, wanting to taste him everywhere. The moans that caught in the back of his throat were an added bonus to the sweet taste of his skin.

“You want to feel my cock, love?” He was trying to decipher exactly what she needed from him.

Pulling her lips from his neck, a soft string of spit attaching them together, she nodded her head. “I’m ready for it.”

He shook his head, “Not today, darling.”

She frowned, but he laced his fingers in between hers and led her to the bench against the opposite side of the tackshed. There, he sat, urging her to straddle his lap. She did exactly that, putting one leg on either side of him, so they were touching but their clothes acted as a barrier. 

Y/N’s breathing caught in her throat as she felt the thickness beneath his trousers. A devilish smile that she had seen him use on countless other people before spread across his face. Using his hand, he softly grabbed her by the throat and guided her lips back to his.

Their lips worked together; their bodies in tandem with one another. Naturally, her hips started to buck, begging for some sort of relief. As she felt him against her center, she tilted her head back, exposing her neck. Harry used this as an opportunity to attach his lips to her neck and taste her, breathing in the scent of her bath soap. She was so beautiful and enticing, it made his head spin.

As they moved together, her hips became sloppier and sloppier with each roll. He tasted so marvelous, notes of mint and lemon as their mouth worked together. Y/N hadn’t realized just how much she yearned for him, in every single aspect. Even when he was being so mean, she had longed for his approval. Now, she wanted him in every single sense of the word. With just his fingers, he stopped her hips from moving against him, a displeasing cry sounding from her at the loss of friction.

“You’re doing so well for me, darling,” Harry breathed out, slightly out of breath. “I think you need to take your riding pants off, though. You should be as close to me as you can.”

She nodded, and with much enthusiasm, she stood up and quickly unlaced her boots and removed her pants. As she did that, Harry unbuttoned his own, sliding them down to his knees, revealing his white-colored briefs. The sight of him nearly finished her then and there.

“Can I give a small lick?” She asked, not caring how depraved it sounded.

“Christ, Y/N. Yeah,” he breathed.

Y/N sunk to her knees, the cold ground was somewhat uncomfortable but she was too engrossed in Harry to even realize. Darting her tongue out, she licked him over his briefs. Just enough to wet the fabric of them so much that you could see the outline of him.

“Come here,” he whined, but he didn’t have it in him to be mortified with the whiny tone. Typically, he would be.

Like before, she straddled him, her center pressed directly on the hardness of him. Once more, she was moving against him, the pleasure so much more intense now that layers of clothes had been stripped.

He used his hands to guide her, and she mumbled something about how he was a trained professional. This must have stroked his ego in the best way possible, because suddenly he was bucking into her, begging for her to come with him.

Harry often had a tough time feeling comfortable enough to reach his pinnacle with another person, it was something so deeply vulnerable to him that sometimes he couldn’t do it out of sheer embarrassment for them to see him in such an exposed state.

But when he felt her hit her high, he couldn’t stop himself before he was coming too. With no warning, he finished, come spurting in between them and landing on his white linen shirt. Just watching him finish, made her eyes roll back in her head.

Shock washed through him as her hips halted against him. Gently, he removed her from his lap, standing her up. Frantically, he looked around for a rag, anything to wipe the sticky residue off his skin and before it could stain his shirt.

He didn’t watch her as she dressed herself, completely oblivious to the fact that he had no intention of showing her that part of him.

With a hot face, he asked for his jacket to conceal the stains of his come on his shirt as he walked back to the palace, “Is it okay if I have my jacket back?”

She shimmied out of his jacket, handing it to him. He quickly threw it over his shoulders and buttoned it up before muttering out, “That was really good. Thank you.”

Shuffling through some boxes, he found a pancho they used when it was raining but the horses needed tending. He helped her put the cloak on so when she walked back to the palace, she would be assaulted by the rain and grow sickly.

Y/N just smiled at him as he rushed out, letting her know he had somewhere to be. With very much confusion, she watched him as he hurried out the door, rain pelting him.

____

That night, Harry did not find himself going back to the palace immediately. 

Instead he wandered around the grass fields, too ashamed to face Niall or anyone else for that matter. Especially Y/N.

But as the sun began to set, and he knew Niall was growing more and more worried as each hour passed, he finally made his way back to the comfortable cottage Niall was staying in during their time at Y/N’s family’s palace. He was completely soaking wet when he returned, shoulders shivering. Niall ushered him to the fireplace, looking around for dry clothes that would fit Harry.

“Where have you been?” Niall asked, a clear tone of worry laced throughout his words.

And with that, Harry dropped himself onto the chair directly next to the warmth of the fireplace and spilled his guts. He told Niall about how Y/N made him feel like he couldn’t control himself, like he was a magnet that only responded to her frequency. He teared up as he told Niall what a terrible person he was for using her like this, and how it was going to feel even worse because his heart was already breaking.

And Niall, like the good friend he was, listened carefully and thoughtfully. Only when Harry concluded did he say, “If you like her so much, why don’t you call off this plan? It sounds to me like the plan is still on.”

“It is,” Harry confirmed. “I’m simply not good enough for her.”

Niall, knowing that he could not argue with Harry when he was in a mood as sour as this, rested his hand on his shoulder and offered a reassuring squeeze.

___

That night, Harry found himself sitting outside Y/N’s door, afraid that her scary experience on Freya today might haunt her in her dreams. With his back against the door, and tired eyes threatening to close, he waited to hear her screams.

He wanted to be there, to hold her and tell her it was okay.

Dorothea, hearing the sound of feet shuffling as Harry readjusted himself so that his earshot had a clear line of Y/N’s room, went out to investigate who was lingering in the hallway.

“Prince Harry?” Dorothea asked, wide eyed and confused.

Harry hummed in response, barely flickering his eyes up to meet hers. He was so tired, they were threatening to close.

“It’s the middle of the night, what are you doing here?” She was slightly delirious from just waking up.

“I’m on nightmare watch,” he muttered out and it took a second for Dorothea to comprehend exactly what he said to her.

“Prince, if she has a nightmare and calls out for you, I will come get you again. You do not need to miss sleep to wait outside her door.”

“And what if she doesn’t call out for me?” His tired eyes looked up, “Will you still come get me?”

“Yes,” she promised, reaching her hand out and helping him to his feet. “Go to bed, Prince. You need beauty sleep.”

He nodded his head, rising to his feet with her help and turning to the direction of his own bedchamber. “Can you do me another favor?”

“Hm?” The sound coming from Dorothea was soft.

Harry reached his hand behind his neck, massaging softly. “Please don’t tell her.”

Dorothea only nodded in response, a silent promise between the two of them.

[thef1diary]

moving along by 5sos, charles leclerc, angst?? ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Thinking ‘Bout You | C. Leclerc

Summary: you and Charles lived in the same building, so it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did seeing you again after breaking up.

Warnings: angst, heartbreak.

Pairing: charles x ex!fem!reader

wc: 2.3k+

Charles sighed, turning the alarm off before covering his face with the blanket as he tried to get some more sleep.

Thinking 'bout you lots, lately

He pulled it off as soon it as got too suffocating, and begrudgingly looked to the empty side of the bed.

It had been empty for far too long, a few weeks went by without it being occupied by you.

He turned onto his stomach, reaching his hand out to graze the bedsheet on the other side. He grabbed the pillow you used to sleep on and brought it close to his face.

He could still smell the faint scent of your shampoo even after washing it once. Inhaling sharply, he threw the pillow off the bed before groaning.

As he closed his eyes, he was disturbed by the sound of his phone ringing. He knew it wasn't you, but a small part of him hoped that you'd call.

It was his trainer, asking if he had followed his morning routine but Charles easily lied and said he followed every step but in reality he was still in bed.

His trainer sighed, knowing how difficult it was dealing with Charles after his breakup. Usually it wasn't like this, but you weren't just anyone, you were his everything.

Knowing that if he stayed in the comfort of his sheets, he'd only reminisce the memories he made with you, so he decided to finally get up.

Have you been eating breakfast alone like me?

He wandered to the kitchen after freshening up but it didn't change his appearance much. The dark bags underneath his eyes along with the small frown that made its way to his face permanently remained the same.

He remembered how you used to stand in the kitchen, wearing one of his shirts that you accidentally stole, making breakfast that was definitely not approved by his trainer.

If he stared any longer at the empty space, his mind would play tricks on him and conjure up a dream that looked too real.

Thinking 'bout you lots, lately

He closed his eyes and rubbed them, ensuring that he wouldn't hallucinate your presence. Maybe, it was because of the lack of sleep he's been getting lately.

He had no one to blame but himself, as he had gotten used to you too quickly and it would take a while before those habits would start to disperse.

With you, even something as mundane as making breakfast was the best start to Charles' morning, but now it's the beginning to the worst days.

As he walked over to the fridge to grab some eggs, he paused, shaking his head. "Fuck this,"

He chose to grab a fruit instead so at least he had some proper nutrients and wouldn't be lectured on his eating habits.

Is it bad that I'm hoping that you're broken?

He made his way onto the sofa, in a half sitting half lying down position. He tossed his apple in the air before catching it, pretending as if it were a ball.

There were many thoughts haunting his mind, but only one stuck out to him the most. He wondered how you were, better or worse.

He kind of hoped that you were in a similar position as him, thinking of him as much as he thought of you.

Is it bad that I'm wishing you're still broken?

This had become his routine a few days after he had broken up with you, once the realization set in that you were no longer someone he'd be seeing everyday.

The first few days, his friends had taken him out to enjoy the 'single life', whatever that meant. But he did enjoy it. There was no one waiting at home for him and for some reason he liked that because he wasn't obliged to return at a reasonable time.

That you haven't found fish in the ocean

However, once he began waking up alone, missing out on the morning kisses and hugs, he realized that he had let you go.

His phone rang again, but this time he didn't even bother looking at who was calling, knowing who it'd be based on the time.

Everyday, Pierre would call at the same time just to check up on him. But by now, their conversations were so bland because he barely put effort into his responses.

He only wanted to be left alone, but ironically, he never wanted to know what it was like to be alone without you.

Is it bad? So bad

He had no idea how you were doing. But if he did, he might have felt a little better knowing he wasn't the only one in a bad mood following the breakup.

While you didn't look as bad as he did, you felt just as worse. You had already taken a few days off of work, but it was more than enough time spent sulking over him.

Truth is, you had understood the situation and accepted it better than he had. Since it wasn't exactly a mutual breakup, there was nothing you could've done to convince him otherwise.

He had already made up his mind.

While you thought he had fallen out of love with you, he was blaming himself for letting the love of his life walk away.

Is it weird that I'm drunk and on my sofa?

Charles' gaze fixated on the cabinet that held a few bottles of both yours and his choice of alcohol. He wasn't a day drinker—in fact he rarely drank unless he was celebrating—but if anyone asked, he would deny it. However, lately he had been grabbing a bottle without caring of the time.

He played some music, connecting to the speaker that you gifted him. He didn't have the heart to get rid of the things you had forgotten to take with you.

Opening the cabinet he grabbed a bottle without looking but he bypassed the glass, choosing to drink straight from the bottle.

As he spent time on his phone, which was something he rarely did, he didn't notice how much alcohol he was consuming.

Is it weird that I'm naked on my sofa?

As he was about to put his phone away, he got a notification from Instagram. When you began dating, he had turned on notifications for your account whenever you posted something. After all, he wanted to be the first to like your posts, even if he'd seen the image before you posted it because you always asked for his opinion.

Without thinking twice, he tapped on it, bringing your latest story on his screen.

It was a simple photo of the city, a view you had from your office but the words you added with the photo piqued his interest.

You had finished your long work day which made Charles check the time. He had sat on the couch sulking the entire day.

He knew you so well that he was certain you had posted the photo a few minutes after you had taken it. It was a habit that Charles told you to change, especially because he was concerned for your safety in case something bad happened.

However, right now, he was glad you didn't change, because he knew you were on the way home.

The thing was, you lived in the same building as him but you had moved into his apartment when you were dating.

All alone, damn, I wish I didn't know ya

Charles wanted to see you again, and even living nearby made it impossible due to his constant travels for work.

He stood up, ready to make his way towards the door but he stopped, finally realizing what he was about to do. You were no longer with him, heck, he's the one who ended it, but he was just so desperate to see a glimpse of you again.

You were so, so important to him but now he wished he never knew you because you occupied every thought of his.

Is it weird? So weird

Maybe he should leave the building just so he doesn't come in contact with you. He would have stayed at home, but knowing you were on your way back and living nearby, it became unbearable to stay.

Nodding once, he left his apartment. Although he slightly swayed while walking, he wasn't drunk or at least he'd like to tell himself that.

Once he entered the elevator, he placed his hands behind him on the metal bar while his head rested on the mirror.

I know I'm the stupid one who ended it

The entirety of your relationship flashed through his mind, the good, the bad, even the worst moments that he once thought were a good idea. Like breaking up with you. He laughed at himself as he wondered why on earth he ever thought being away from you was a good idea.

“I want to focus on my career, I don’t want any distractions plus I think we’d be better off without each other.” He recalled his reasons for breaking up.

And now I'm the stupid one regretting it

You were never his distraction, you were his biggest supporter. And fuck, why would he be better off without you, he doesn’t even know why he had to add that sentence.

He reached the ground floor and the doors opened but he was too consumed by his thoughts that he almost forgot to notice.

As he brought his arm out to stop the door from closing, he heard a voice—a very familiar voice.

“Pouvez-vous tenir la porte, s'il vous plaît?” You called out, rushing to enter the elevator, barely making it. (Can you hold the door please?)

I've been thinking about you lots, lately

“Merci,” you called out to the person who held the door open for you. However, you didn’t look up at them yet because you were attempting to grasp onto your bag, a purse, an umbrella and your phone all at once.

It was when Charles whispered your name you looked at him. He was in just as much shock as you, making direct eye contact.

It was too late for him to leave the elevator, it had already began going up to your floor, which was a few levels above his. He could’ve chosen to press the button for his floor, or even the next level to leave the elevator as fast as possible.

Instead, he chose to stay, watching your eyes flick over and away from him quickly, as if you were trying to decide whether to avoid him or not.

However, you chose to indulge in a conversation, especially after smelling the horrible scent of alcohol surrounding him.

Oh, are you moving along?

"Are you drunk?" You asked even though you knew the answer. He was slightly swaying around as the elevator kept going up, but he held on to the bar to stabilize himself.

He almost looked offended at your question, either because you thought so low of him to assume he was drunk or because that was the first question you asked him after your breakup.

"I might've had a drink or two" he decides, unsure whether to tell you the truth. Something he never had to think twice about before.

"You smell like you had the whole bottle, I know you Charles,” you stated, but once you saw Charles wince at your last few words, you felt the same emotions roll through you when you walked out of his apartment for the last time.

Is it wrong if I ask you to come over?

"That's the problem, you know me, so how did you let me tell you to leave?" He countered, shaking his head and wanting to blame you for his mistakes.

"What did you want me to do, stay?" You asked, scoffing when he nodded, “yes"

"I can't, you know that,” you turned away from his burning gaze, or you might just let him back in your life. “Why not? Je t'aime toujours, I can never stop loving you.” (I still love you)

Is it wrong if I tell ya that I love ya?

You were glad that you turned away otherwise he’d see you cracking through your tough exterior. You never imagined that your first meeting would be in an elevator, unplanned.

You watched the numbers on the digital screen go up, only a few more floors until yours. “You were right you know, I think we're better off without each other."

You didn’t want to repeat his words back to him, but since you had turned to look at him, you saw how those words affected him. Just like how it affected you when he first said them.

His eyes widened, his hands gripping the metal bar to ground himself. Out of all the thoughts he had running through his mind, he never thought about what he would feel if you acted the way you did.

He should’ve expected it, but he was too optimistic. Now, his own optimism would be the reason for another heartbreak, perhaps worse this time.

The elevator dinged before the door began opening, and he remained in his spot as you began walking out. His mind screamed at him to say something, anything but you spoke before he could.

“I just want you to know, I’m moving out of here—well out of Monaco. I don’t think I’ll see you again, and I’m hoping you understand and not try to contact me anymore. Goodbye Charles.”

As the doors closed again after you walked out, he felt as if the door to the opportunity of you returning was slammed shut in his face.