#she’s in a sad and angry mood at the same time

[theeemeraldstar]

You're so smart, but my love just ain't enough

Maybe that's okay, I was thinking about fucking myself anyway

[orcelito]

Having lost my cat, my uncle, my great grandmother, my grandma's best friend (& one of the people who helped raise me), AND my dad all within the span of 9 months,

I have little sympathy for people who use deaths as an excuse to be an asshole. I get it, it sucks. Get the fuck over it. Your grief is not an excuse to treat others like shit. What the fuck.

[luveline]

What about a lil fic of the first time bombshell reader gets mad at Spencer? Like it can be while they r dating or before and May be r is giving Spencer quiet treatment?

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.3k

Spencer waits for Morgan to get up for a coffee before he gets up himself, tailing his teasing teammate to the microwave. He's hoping Morgan's in a sympathetic mood today, because Spencer is in dire need of some sympathy. 

"Loverboy," Morgan says, his voice steeped in suspicion. "Can I help you with something?"

"Do you know why Y/N's upset?" 

"You don't? You're the expert." 

Spencer rubs at his nose, the beginning of another migraine brewing between his eyes. The gesture draws a little more empathy than his misguided question. 

"You're gonna have to ask her yourself. I don't want her angry at me too, she's gonna fix my computer before Garcia finds out I fell for her phishing email test." 

"I've been asking her. It's making it worse. She won't answer my questions anymore. She just hums." 

"Silent treatment. Yikes." Morgan sips his tea through a grimace. "I mean, you must've done something bad. She's usually so–" 

"Lovely?" 

"–in love with you." Morgan laughs as he wanders off in the direction of the stairs up to Hotch's office. "Same thing."

Spencer decides to make a cup of bribery tea for you. He microwaves a mug of hot water and plunks a bag of your favourite blend in without ceremony, bobbing it up and down as he watches you from over his shoulder. You've moved desks upon request to sit with the rest of the team and opposite Spencer (against Hotch's self-proclaimed better judgement), your things set carefully in contrast to his books, a library's worth teeming on every spare inch. Some have even made their way onto your desk, pristinely stacked in wait of his perusal. It's one small gesture among the hundreds of kind things you do for him. 

"Here," he says, setting the mug down next to your mouse carefully. 

Your anger strikes him. Eyes frosted with an uneasiness he's not partial to, lips, so perfectly painted, screwed into a frown. It's not nice seeing someone he cares about upset with him, worse when he has no idea what it is he's done. 

"You're annoyed at me," he says. You wait for him to continue. "I don't know what I did." 

"That makes it worse." You frown at him. After a few seconds of this—your frowning, his looking sorry and confused— you sigh wretchedly (as in, he's never heard you sound that sad, ever, and he hates it). "Spencer, you stood me up." 

Everything in him goes cold. "No I didn't." 

Your sad frown melds again to anger. "Yes you did! I– I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a new dress, I bragged to all of my friends that my cute coworker was gonna be my date, and none of that mattered because you didn't text me back so I was worried sick all night that you were," —your voice drops to a private whisper— "in trouble somewhere, and then you come into work like nothing happened? Not even a hint of an apology? I thought you wanted to come."  

Your voice burns with embarrassment. Spencer can feel it in his throat, that plucky ache of someone letting you down. 

"That was last night?" he asks quietly. A friend asked you to their charity ball, not as ridiculously fancy as it sounds but an occasion of esteem and important to you nonetheless. "Y/N, I thought that was– I have it in my phone as next month. As November. I'm so sorry." 

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" 

He winces. "I had a migraine… Screens make it worse, and I haven't charged the battery yet because I was coming to work anyways I'm sorry, Y/N, really. I mixed it up. I should've asked you." 

You seem less disheartened at his admission. You cross your arms over your abdomen and lean back a touch in your chair, as if deciding whether he's being truthful. Spencer isn't in the habit of lying to you and anybody could tell you that, so after a few seconds you look away. "I asked you if you were excited yesterday morning. I told you my dress came."  

"I know." He can't believe he's gotten it wrong like this. Anyone can make a mistake, but he imagines you in your new dress with your hair done waiting for him in the cold weather that descended on Virginia last night and his guts twist into a knot. "I didn't piece it together. I didn't… I didn't…" 

Spencer can't remember the last time he let someone he loves down like this. His migraine spikes again like a needle in the eye, fiery agony that has him closing his eyes to cope. 

"Spencer," you say, softly admonishing. "Hey, it's okay." Your chair creaks.

"I'm so sorry," he says through his teeth. 

"I thought you were being a jerk, but I guess I should've known you wouldn't do something like that." You stand up and take his elbow into a very gentle hand. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was childish. I was just hurt thinking you did it on purpose." 

"Sorry," he says again. "Migraine." 

Your hand rises to his cheek. "Yeah? Sit down, Spence. Take a breather." 

The doctors say that Spencer's migraines are psychosomatic. He doesn't get how something so odious can start from nothing. 

You seem twice as upset but in a different light, ushering him down into your chair. "Don't worry," you say softly, your hand falling into his hair, "I took a great picture. You can still see me in my nice dress." 

You're kidding but he's genuinely glad. Then the pain takes over and he can't see the other side of it for years. 

It only feels like years. 

When he can open his eyes, you've knelt by his chair. He hates to see you getting your pants dirty like that, hates worse that your eyebrows have pinched and the soft plane of your forehead has etched deep with concern. 

"You can still be mad at me," he says under his breath. 

"I'm a little upset," you confess, putting an uncharacteristically tentative hand on his knee. "It sucked, but not as much as this seems to suck for you." You're like an angel, all pretty and wide-eyed at his feet, your hand beginning a short path up his leg, a soft back and forth. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault." 

"You didn't know. How could you, I–" He winces as another wave of pain flares behind his eye, blurring your small smile. "I should've charged my phone." 

"Maybe. I can't imagine you had the capacity, Spence. Not if you're like this." 

"Don't just forgive me because I'm in pain." 

"I'm not, I'm forgiving you because even though it really hurt my feelings turning up alone, I'm not cruel enough to blame you now." You squeeze his knee. It's an instant balm, the chronic ache behind his eyes easing ever so slightly. Your forgiveness makes the rest bearable. "Can you forgive me for being so heartless?" you ask lightly. 

Your lips curve demurely around each word. Spencer scrambles to cover your hand with both of his, his neck craned forward. "Of course I forgive you." 

"Thank you." Spencer could collapse. "Drink some of this tea, okay? Maybe drinking something will help."  

Nothing ever helps, but he does it because it's your hands bringing the cup to his lips. 

"I know you looked beautiful," he says between sips. 

"I would've looked better on your arm. Too bad you're getting grievously attacked by your own brain. This is what happens when it gets too big, babe, it's trying to come out of your ears." He's a little sorry to have won you back this way, but mostly so, so relieved. "Anymore of this'll and you'll start messing up the months. Oh, wait!" You laugh as he laughs but soon scramble to apologise when the sound makes his head hurt. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Drink some more tea, sweetheart." 

[judespoets]

dramatic | jobe bellingham

summary: this req

pairing: jobe bellingham x fem!reader

genre: angst/fluff

warnings: slight arguments and harsh words; not proof read!

Jobe and you were seatet next to each other on the large table, decorated with Christmas decor and filled with delicious food. You were celebrating Christmas together at the Bellingham house this year.

"Can you please give me the potatoes, (Y/N)?" you heard the familiar voice of your boyfriend, Jobe ask you, pulling you out of your daydreams.

"yup" you answered shortly, reaching for the potatoes in front of you and handing them to Jobe without giving him a look in the eyes.

The two of you had a fight earlier but were too late to communicate and solve it so you got to the Bellingham's pretty angry with each other, the harsch words you exchanged still lingering in the back of your mind.

It was a stupid argument about Jobe running late which resulted in you doing all the chores at home alone. You usually didn't mind but you were sad and angry at that moment, turning the conversation into a heated argument.

The tension was unbearable and you really tried to hide that you were mad at each other but you saw how everyone noticed. It wasn't the usual warm, lovely mood in the room and every time you thought about Jobe's words, your eyes started watering just a little bit.

The attention was currently not on you and Jobe right now as you felt a familiar hand placing itself on your thigh, making you shiver.

"(Y/N) please just stop being so dramatic about this right now." was what you heard him whispering inside to you.

And that was it. The room fell silent as they heard your chair scraping across the floor. You stood up as quickly as you could, excusing yourself in a hurry and quickly running up the stairs into Jobe's childhood bedroom.

Maybe you were overreacting but you were hurt, for you, Jobe’s words hurt, and he didn’t seem to understand that.

As you were sat in Jobe’s old room the dining room was silent until the older Bellingham spoke up.

“What happened man? I have never seen (Y/N) so sad and quiet.” he asked his brother.

Jobe sighed, “I came home much later than I told her I would today. We agreed to do the chores together and then just spend the day together. We had like this huge argument and I said some pretty bad things.” he said regretfully, burying his face in his hands.

“I don’t know why it’s such a big deal for her tho. I mean we are together now.” he said, looking at his brother.

“Jobe, she wanted to spend some of Christmas with you, only you. I would’ve been hurt too.” Denise popped in.

“What did you say tho? That she’s so upset?” Jude asked carefully.

Jobe sighed again, looking absolutely regretful. “I said that maybe we shouldn’t spend any time at all together anymore, since she’s so upset about me being late this one time, I don’t even know why I said that.” he added.

“That’s fucked man, even I wouldn’t have said that.” Jude said.

“Jobe, please talk to her. It’s early. Don’t ruin her whole Christmas.” Denise said, slight disappointment evident in her voice.

Jobe immediately stood up, coming towards the bedroom, knocking on the door carefully.

You didn’t say anything, you wanted to talk but at the same time you just wanted him to leave you alone, to not hurt you anymore.

As the door opened slowly, the oh so familiar face greeted you. He looked different tho, guilty almost.

“What do you want?” you snapped.

“(Y/N)-“

“No Jobe, if you just want to argue again, go away.” you admitted, looking down hurt.

“Baby, no. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things.” he answered, sitting down next to you.

“Obviously.” you answered.

“I want to spend time with you. I always do.”

“Didn’t seem like that when you were late today.” you told him, obviously angry now.

“I know. And I’m really sorry. I didn’t know that today was so important to you.” Jobe said, putting his arm around you, holding you as he saw the tears forming in your eyes.

“I just- you know that my family is not here. And I was alone the whole day, I love christmas and I just wanted to spend it with you, I really put a lot of thought into your present and I couldn’t even give it to you in private. Jobe, you really, really hurt me today.” You admitted truthfully, all that anger turning into sadness as the tears kept running down your cheeks.

Jobe’s grip around you tightened with your words, he felt really bad.

“I really fucked up today. I know that. And I was so focused on the fact that I will see my family today that I totally forgot you can’t spend Christmas with yours. I promise I will look after your feelings more. I’m sorry, baby.” He told you, placing kisses on your head.

“I know. And thank you, for apologizing.” You said.

“I love you, (Y/N). And I want to spend every Christmas with you, forever.” He said, kissing your forehead.

You closed your eyes at the feeling, finally feeling comfortable again.

“Do you want to go down again? Get some food in you, you didn’t eat a lot yet.” Jobe asked you, his fingers stroking yours.

“Yeah.” You said, wanting to get up again.

“Hey!” Jobe called out, pulling you down again.

He took his thumbs and wiped away the tears on your cheeks. Kissing both of your eyes carefully.

“I will never make you cry again, my love.” He told you, finally connecting his lips with yours.

[daenysx]

this is like the summary of my morning- without the boys, sadly. i woke up really bad and writing this helped a lot, i hope you enjoy too! ♡

poly!marauders x fem!reader, mostly fluff - a little hurt/comfort maybe

an almost ruined morning

you wake up angry for no reason this morning.

maybe no reason isn't right; you're stressed because of your final week, mostly thanks to the high pressure you put on yourself and one of your closest friends cancelled your study date for today. you blink your eyes open with slight panic, irritation makes your stomach achy. there's also a headache that starts forming, a nice ribbon on top of your package of stress.

it must be raining out there, you hear the water drops hitting against the window. the boys are nowhere to be seen, they must've woken up earlier than you. you leave the empty bed with glossy eyes, almost tearing up for not waking up early enough to get some school work done. that wasn't what you planned last night.

"there she is." james sees you first. he opens his arms for you. "good morning, pretty girl."

"morning." you mumble, burying your face to his chest. he smells like aftershave and shower gel, slight coffee and a hint of cigarettes which you think he gets from kissing remus. he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight.

"are you okay?" he whispers to your ear. you're sure he gives a look behind you to remus, not understanding what happens.

"i was gonna wake up early to do my readings." you say against his chest.

he strokes your hair, feeling the uneasiness in your voice. "it's still early babe, you can start after breakfast, hmm?"

remus comes next to you, rubbing your back and giving you a kiss on your hair. "i thought you were gonna meet with shelby today for studying."

he came home late last night so he doesn't know you won't be seeing shelby. "she cancelled. said she has something came up." you murmur.

"yeah?" remus raises an eyebrow. "does that mean we get to spend time together?"

you nod into james's chest, discomfort creeps into your hands. shaky hands, pins and needles. you don't know why you're so nervous.

sirius comes into kitchen, hand in his hair to shape his wet curls up. he gives you a huge smile when he sees you. "good morning!" he says brightly. you immediately sense he's in the mood for a happy morning. you wish you could feel the same.

"morning, siri." you say, still leaning to james but your face is turned to the boys.

"what's wrong?" sirius asks. "what's with the pout, angel girl?"

"i don't know." you admit. "i woke up angry and sad, and i wanna study but i can't. i don't know."

you say the last part with a shaky voice and that makes boys frown. you bury yourself back to james's chest, embarrassed and silly, you don't feel like you can deal with this. you're being too extra and you just woke up.

"okay." james says. "it's fine, baby, it's normal. let's go lay on couch a bit, yeah?"

remus gives him an approving look. james leads you into living room, you lay down angrily. he takes the fluffiest blanket to cover your bodies. you can hear sirius drying his hair in the bathroom and remus starts the kettle for tea.

you are more than willing to stay against james, he's big and soft for you. with his muscular arms wrapped around you, you feel safe. hidden from everything, and it's nice. he kisses your forehead, his glasses are on the coffee table. he rubs your back with a huge hand. you breathe shakily, definitely unable to relax.

"sweetheart." he whispers. "we gotta relax a bit, okay?" he puts your head on his chest, right where his heart beats. "can you follow my breathing?"

you try to do as he says. your eyes are closed, your ear is pressed against your lover's heart. it's not so easy to do but you succeed after a long minute. "it's okay." he whispers, kissing your head. "relax, baby."

your head stops pounding after a while, that's good. you hear silent steps into the room, remus comes in with a steaming mug and a full plate. he puts them on the coffee table before coming to your side, his long fingers are gentle on your hair.

"feel any better?" he asks. you nod, looking at him from james's chest. he motions the table with his eyes. "do you want to have some breakfast? i got you your favorite."

"thank you." you say, eyes filled with tears suddenly. remus coos lovingly, he leans in to dry your tears. you can't handle them being so gentle with you, feeling like you ruined their morning. they still take care of you when you're being useless on the couch. "i'm sorry." you say.

"sorry for what?" sirius asks, joining you in the room. "you're too lovely to say sorry for anything, babe, please stop."

you cry for a few minutes, letting it out with gentle encouragements from boys. the stress of everything makes you lightheaded, you don't want to feel like this. you don't want to cry over academics anymore, you want to be a person who can adapt to quick changes when things don't go as planned. your tears wet james's shirt but he doesn't seem to care, his calm eyes following you. you get tired. you feel so tired.

you sit up, done with the crying. you rub your eyes, remus holds your both hands in his one hand as he uses the other one to dry your tears softly. he has a look of understanding on his face, you are grateful for the sentiment.

"can i have some tea?" you ask. sirius hands you the cup quickly, you take a few sips before looking at them. james wants to wipe the look of guilt off your face, he holds your hand.

"i'm sorry." you say. "i don't know what came over me."

"you have nothing to say sorry for." james says. "it's okay if you don't feel well, lovely."

"it's just-" you start. "i can't spend the time i think of doing things by actually doing them and- it stresses me out. like i'm always competing against time."

you take another sip from your tea. saying what upsets you out loud is a nice feeling, knowing they'll never judge you. they actually listen and understand, they will stay with you no matter what.

"you have 10 days until the finals, right?" remus asks.

you nod. "but i have to finish a paper before that."

"but still it means you have time." remus comes, sits on the empty spot on the couch. he cups your cheeks, his heart breaks at the sight of your tired eyes. "i think- we can spend today by resting and helping you get some sleep. you brain can't function properly if you don't take care of yourself, dove."

you nod. "okay."

"okay." he kisses your forehead. "good."

you finish your tea, and take a bite of the breakfast remus prepared for you. you don't feel like eating much but still force yourself to eat some of it. remus takes your empty cup to kitchen and james leaves to open the window in the bedroom now that the rain has stopped. fresh air will be nice.

"don't worry please." you say softly to sirius. he looks upset, nothing like his sparkly mood before. "i'm sorry i made you sad."

he can't resist it, takes you into his arms. you are more than happy to follow him, putting your head on the curve of his shoulder. he keeps you, smiles only a bit. "you have nothing to be sorry for. i just- i hate seeing you cry."

"i know."

"i wanna put a smile on your pretty face." he says, cupping your cheeks. "you're cute with the pout, but i'd prefer a smile."

you smile. a real smile, just what he deserves. you actually show him your teeth, he kisses you. "do you really think i'm cute?" you flirt, trying to get one more kiss from him. his kisses are healing.

"i think you're more than cute." he kisses your nose. "i can prove it."

"are you trying to make her faint, pads?" james asks, coming back to your side.

he might be right because sirius has always had this effect on you. you lose yourself when he kisses you, and it's good. it makes you forget your problems. he makes you feel brave, like you can achieve anything you want. he kisses you once more, your eyes are closed. james admires the sight.

"finally got a smile on her face, do you see that?" sirius says. "don't be jealous, prongs."

"i'm jealous." remus says, sitting on the other side of you. "i want a kiss."

he is teasing more than usual, to cheer you up. you give him a good kiss as he takes you to his lap. james sits on the empty spot you left, playing with sirius's hair. it's definitely how they flirt.

"maybe you should put a smile on my face too, huh?" james says to his boyfriend. "gorgeous."

sirius kisses him, his hand slipping into james's curls. they start talking after, a quiet chat about their games. everything goes back to normal now that you feel better. remus keeps you on his lap, though. you don't think he'll leave you for a while. he likes the reassurance of your wellness, he likes the quiet kisses you press on his neck when you wanna stop thinking. he likes how you play with his fingers.

remus brushes his lips to the side of your head. "better, lovely?"

you nod. it's not a lie, you feel better. sometimes it's good to cry about things, especially when you're treated like this by your boys. you just need some time to settle down, you think. remus's lap is the perfect place to think about things and then forget them, he rubs your back with occasional neck kisses and you fall asleep right there.

♡

(ps; the pics are from pinterest, they don't belong to me)

[breezeflows]

The Long Road (Stanford Pines x Reader)

Chapter 3

WOOP WOOP CHAPTER 3 IS HERE AND BOY IS IT JUICY🫣 On a serious note though, we are finally getting into some of the exciting bits of the story!! I’m hoping by the next chapter we will finally be back in the present. No more sad flashbacks!! Also y’all writing Lizzy is genuinely my favorite. If this fic wasn’t about Ford I’d be wifing her up instead😔 Anyways- here’s chapter 3 you lovely souls!

Themes: Consumption of alcohol (reader lowkey gets wasted), major hangover, bill himself is a warning, suggestiveness kind of?? idk, heartache, lizzy is overall an amazing friend, alllll the angst and feelings, injuries, etc okay enjoy!

The drive to Lizzy’s place is quiet, the steady hum of the car engine and the sound of raindrops against the windshield the only background noise. You sit in the passenger seat, watching the trees pass by through the window as you fiddle with the wedding band around your finger. Lizzy glances at you occasionally, a small frown on her face as she senses your mood. She remains silent for most of the ride, giving you space to process your emotions if need be.

It's not long before the car rolls to a stop in front of her apartment building. You reach around to gather your belongings from the backseat and step out into the rainy afternoon. Lizzy follows suit, bright pink umbrella in hand as she leads you towards the entrance.

Once inside the building, she unlocks the door to her apartment building and the two of you usher inside. The soft yellow light of the living room envelopes you, creating a cozy atmosphere in stark contrast to the gloominess outside.

Lizzy begins to kick off her shoes, hanging her keys as she silently studies your face. She can see the turmoil in your eyes, and the uncertainty you’re trying to hide.

“So,” she says gently, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

Your eyes snap out of the daze they were in as you look over at Lizzy, giving her a weak smile.

“Oh, yeah I guess. Things went a lot better than I thought they would.”

Her expression relaxes at your response, a hint of relief showing on her face.

“That’s good,” she says as she walks over to the couch and plops down on it, gesturing for you to do the same. “I was half-expecting a tearful scene or something, honestly.”

You manage a light chuckle at her remark, plopping down on the couch next to her. You pull your knees to your chest as you grab a blanket draped across the back of it, wrapping it around you.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Ford took it pretty well, actually. Better than I expected.”

Lizzy raises a brow as she leans against the back cushions, her arms crossing. “Girl, he better take it well after what he said to you. If it had been me, I would’ve dropped his ass on the spot.”

You can’t help but let out a small snort of laughter at her words, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of your lips for the first time in a while. It’s a relief to have Lizzy’s no-nonsense attitude around, her bluntness serving as a much-needed dose of honesty.

“Yeah, yeah Liz, I know.” you admit, the smile still lingering on your face. “I was a little tempted.”

Lizzy grins, satisfied with your response as she reaches over and pats your knee supportively.

“As you should,” she says with a nod. “You don’t deserve treatment like that of any kind, no matter how important his research is to him.”

You frown slightly at her words, opting to pick at the blanket below as a distraction.

“Yeah..”

Lizzy watches your expression carefully, sensing your discomfort. She tilts her head slightly, her gaze searching your face.

“But you don’t quite agree, do you?” she probes gently.

You let out a sigh, unsure how to articulate your feelings as you continue to fiddle with the fabric of the blanket.

“It’s just… complicated Liz,” you say, your voice tinged with guilt and frustration. “Yes, I’m hurt and angry with him, but I also understand where he’s coming from. We’ve been together almost our whole lives, and this is all he has ever worked towards. His research is important to him, and he’s under a lot of pressure.”

Lizzy nods slowly as she listens to your words, her expression a mix of understanding and concern. She reaches over and places a hand on top of yours, stopping your nervous fidgeting.

“I get that Y/N, I do,” she says quietly. “And I’m not saying he’s completely in the wrong. But you shouldn’t have to feel like an afterthought in his life either. That’s not fair to you.”

Your eyes brim with tears at her response, your hand twisting and taking hers tightly.

“I know,” you say, your voice threatening to break. “I just wish we could fix things..”

Lizzy squeezes your hand as your tear-filled eyes meet hers.

“And you will, Y/N. It’ll just take some time.”

A small, wobbly smile forms on your lips at her reassurance, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. The hope that you might be able to fix things with Ford, to find a way to bridge the gap that’s widened between you both, is a small but significant comfort.

“Thank you, Liz,” you murmur, your voice still shaky. “I really hope you’re right.”

Lizzy stands with a smile, her hand pulling away from yours and resting on your shoulder.

“I know I’m right chick, because you two love each other. I’ve seen it.”

Your heart warms at her confidence, a soft smile forming on your lips as you nod.

“Now, how about some pizza?”

The few weeks you spend with Lizzy fly by, days passing in a blur of movies, late-night conversations, and plenty of chocolate induced comfort eating. As the final night of your stay approaches, Lizzy turns to you with a sly grin on her face.

“Y/N, I know you’ve been pretty reclusive the past couple of weeks, but it’s your last night here and I refuse to let you spend it watching crappy movies in my living room.”

She places her hands on her hips and gives you a stern look.

“We’re going out for drinks and that’s final.”

You mope as you walk into her view from the bathroom, your voice annoyed and pleading as you speak.

“Liz, I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m a married woman, and this dress feels less than... modest.”

Lizzy rolls her eyes, her expression clearly unconvinced.

“Girl, you’re not here to pick up someone, you’re here to have fun. And as for the dress I picked out for you, it looks fantastic. Stop overthinking it.”

She gives you a onceover, inspecting your outfit.

“Besides, I’d like to see anyone who tries hitting on you tonight.”

You pout as you watch her, pulling down your dress so it covers your knees.

“I don’t know how Ford would feel about this..”

Lizzy scoffs, shaking her head.

“Ford’s not here, and we both know he should be the last person you’re trying to impress right now. You’re still young, and attractive Y/N, you deserve to enjoy yourself for one night without him on your mind. Not to mention you’ve got to live your life without kids while you can. I know the two of you have talked about it. ”

She grabs the hem of your dress and tugs it back up, flashing you a defiant look.

“And if he has a problem with you having fun, he can talk to me.”

You sigh as you give in, knowing Lizzy wouldn’t be changing her mind about your all’s plans for the night.

“Fine, fine. But we’re not staying out too late, okay?”

Lizzy grins, victorious.

“That’s more like it! And don’t worry, I promise we won’t be out until dawn,” she assures you. “Just a few drinks, maybe a little dancing, and then we’ll come back here. You trust me, right?”

“More than anything Liz.”

And that’s how you find yourself at the bar now, one too many drinks in and slumped against Lizzy’s shoulder.

She laughs at your state, her own cheeks flushed from drinking. She slings an arm around your shoulders, keeping you upright and steady in the booth the two of you occupied.

“Goodness chick, are you already trashed? We’ve barely been here an hour!” she teases, her voice lighthearted and amused.

You grumble something in response, your head spinning from the alcohol in your system. You take another sip from your glass, your tongue loose and inhibitions lowered.

“I blame you,” you slur, pointing an accusatory finger at Lizzy. “You’re a bad influence.”

Lizzy laughs loudly at your accusation, her eyes sparkling. “No one forced you to down those shots, Y/N,” she says, sliding out of the booth with ease. “I’m going to get you some water, alright? You stay right here in your seat.”

You nod lazily at her words, the idea of staying where you are very appealing. You watch groggily as she strides away, her bell bottoms and flare top in tow. She weaves through the crowd to make her way to the counter, your eyes becoming heavy.

Just as you’re starting to doze off from the alcohol, a presence suddenly sits down in the booth across from you. You blink in surprise, your vision clearing slightly as you focus on the newcomer.

Your eyes widen as you recognize your husband’s face, his features strangely serious and intense as he stares back at you. But there’s something off about him… Something otherworldly in his gaze that sends a chill down your spine.

“Well, well,” he says, his voice cool and calculated. “If it isn’t dear Y/N. You look a little worse for wear.”

Your vision blurs as you grip the side of the table, your words slurred as you speak.

“F.. Ford?”

Ford smiles widely, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. The expression is slightly unfamiliar, different from the familiar warmth you’re used to. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“In the flesh, honey,” he drawls, his voice smooth and flirtatious.

“But I see you’ve had quite a few drinks already. Feeling a little dazed? I wonder how Sixer would feel about me seeing you in this state and not him. Hilarious!”

Your arm trembles weakly as you hold yourself up, vision blurring in and out as you sway slightly in your seat.

“Wha.. What? Why are you.. here..?”

His lips curl into a smug smirk as he eyes your disheveled form, eyes lingering on your exposed skin, clearly enjoying your confusion and intoxication.

“Oh, I had a little chat with Fordsy earlier. He agreed to let me take the reins for a few hours…”

He gives a careless shrug. “You know how he is. All work and no play. Figured I’d take advantage of the situation, hell, I even got him a new tattoo!”

You sit there, dumbfounded and wavering in and out of consciousness as your mind tried to process what Ford was talking about.

Ford’s – or rather, Bill’s – eyes rake over you again, giving an exaggerated sigh before his lips turned into a sly grin.

“You really are a sight for sore eyes, I can see why Sixer married you.”

Your thoughts are still spinning from the alcohol, making it hard to focus on the conversation. You struggle to keep yourself upright, your body feeling heavy and numb.

Bill notices your dazed state, chuckling as he gives a mockingly sympathetic tone.

“You look a little out of it, darling. You really shouldn’t have had so much to drink. Especially considering how easy it’d be to trick you into a deal right now.”

Your mind races with confusion as you stand up weakly, your gut telling you something wasn’t right as you sway back and forth, (Or maybe it was the alcohol) your vision blurring as you scan the place in search of Lizzy.

“Going somewhere? Those human legs of yours don’t look very stable!”

You wobble forward, ignoring his protests as you keep moving.

“You really should listen to me if you want to avoid that nasty bruise tomorrow!”

He calls out, and before you know it you trip, and everything goes black.

Hours later… aka early morning.

You slowly open your eyes, your head pounding and your memories fuzzy. You realize you’re lying on a couch in Lizzy’s apartment, a cool cloth pressed over what you assume to be a large tender bruise on your forehead.

Lizzy is sitting perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. She notices your eyes flutter open and lets out a relieved sigh.

“Oh thank god,” she mutters. “You had me worried for a second there. I stayed up with you all night waiting for you to wake up.”

“Liz?” you mumble, head pounding. “What the hell happened? My head is killing me..”

Her expression softens at your groggy murmur, her hand reaching out instinctively to brush the hair away from your face.

“Hey, take it easy,” she says, voice low and soothing. “You took a pretty nasty fall back at the bar. Hit your head on a table on the way down.”

Your eyes widen as your memory jogs itself.

“What..? Wait, Ford.. Ford was there?”

Lizzy freezes, her expression guarded at the mention of Ford. She averts her gaze, focusing her attention on the cloth that she’s holding against your forehead.

“Uh, yeah,” she says, her voice hesitant. “He showed up towards the end of the night when I went to grab you a water… You don’t remember?”

You think to yourself for a moment, your memory patchy and vague.

“I mean, I kind of do. But it was weird? Did something happen?”

Lizzy is silent, her gaze still firmly averted from yours. She adjusts the cloth, pressing it against your head with a little more pressure than necessary.

“Nothing happened,” she finally says, her voice tight. “You just had a little too much to drink and tripped, that’s all.”

Her words are curt and dismissive, clearly trying to downplay the situation. But there’s something in her expression, a flicker of unease that betrays her true emotions.

She glances at you briefly, her eyes meeting yours for a split second before moving back to your injury.

“Lizzy..?” you say, silently pleading with her to tell you the full truth.

She exhales slowly, her shoulders slumping in resignation. She knows you’re not going to let this go, and she owes you the truth.

“Alright, fine,” she mutters avoiding your gaze. “When I got back to the booth, it was exactly when you had fell..”

You listen closely, sitting yourself up slightly.

“I had noticed Ford when I got there, sure, but when I went to go help you..”

Lizzy pauses, a frown forming on her face as she continues.

“Ford laughed,” she says as her eyes meet yours, full of concern and.. fear? “And not in a lighthearted way, in a cruel mocking way Y/N..”

Lizzy lowers the cloth from your head, placing it in her lap as you sit there, dumbfounded.

“He was just… enjoying the view, I guess,” She mutters bitterly. “Like you were some kind of joke, I don’t know Y/N. It was fucking weird, really fucking weird. I didn’t like it. He laughed as if he was the one who had done it.”

Lizzy trails off, brows furrowed as she clenches her fists. While you, on the other hand, are utterly speechless.

Your mind reels with this new information, struggling to reconcile the image of Ford – laughing coldly and mockingly at your predicament - with the caring, affectionate husband you’ve known him to be your whole life.

“I… I don’t understand,” you stutter, your voice small and confused.

“He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t do that. Not Ford.”

But as you say those words, you can’t help but recall the other strange things that had happened earlier that night. Ford’s detached demeanor, his unfamiliar choice of words, the way he seemed so cold and calculating. Your heart clenches in your chest at the thought, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Had something happened over the few weeks you’ve been gone? Did Ford get too deep in his research? Something wasn’t right.

As you try to make sense of the situation, Lizzy watches you with a mix of compassion and concern. She knows this is incredibly tough for you to hear, but she also seems to have her own worries about the situation.

“I don’t know Y/N,” she says quietly, her hands twisting in her lap. “It was just… so not him. I don’t know what the hell happened. But I’ve never seen him act like that before. It’s like he was a different person.”

Her voice trails off, leaving the two of you in silence as you’re both lost in thought.

Eventually, Lizzy breaks the silence, her voice sympathetic as she places a hand on top of yours.

“How about this, you rest up today, and when you’re ready, I’ll take you to the cabin to get some answers from Ford? Only if you feel comfortable, of course.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside of you.

“Alright,” you murmur. “I’m still feeling pretty rough, but I’d like to see him… tonight, if possible.”

Despite your confusion and worry, you know that facing your husband and talking with him is the only way to get answers. The answers that you crave so desperately in hopes that it’ll mend your breaking heart - and marriage.

Lizzy gives you a reassuring nod.

“Of course,” she says gently. “You rest up, and I’ll come get you when it’s time to go.”

She stands up, gently readjusting the cloth on your head.

“Try to get some sleep, okay?”

You nod, laying yourself back down.

You’re going to need it to cross the bridge that awaits you tonight.

READER AND BILL INTERACTION WOOP WOOP!! Also I’m not gonna lie, I feel like I messed up the timeline a little bit but I’m just gonna go for it. Thank you for reading! :)

Tag List: @artistic-gato @karmaisacatluzi @therottenheartofscum @violetvsworld @inquiit @catr4dora

[martinluvrr]

NUMBER ONE | KATE MARTIN ( FINAL PART )

⋅˚₊‧ kate martin x actress!reader

⋅˚₊‧ summary: everything is perfect, but perfection doesn’t come free.

⋅˚₊‧ part three || nav

☆

liked by hbo, usera, y/ny/l/n and 16,682 others

vanityfair Y/n Y/l/n is nominated for her first ever emmy for HBO’s House of the Dragon. In category “Outstanding lead actress in a drama series”, does she have your vote?

☆

“Kate-"

"I thought we agreed on this. You and her would not have contact"

"So what was i supposed to do ,just ignore her when she appeared in my face?"

"Yes that exactly what you should've done" She lets out, yelling. Y/n suddenly felt herself freeze, her entire mood shifted.

Everything was going great, candlelit dinner, make out in the kitchen counter, laughing, more kisses etc. When you finally told her about your encounter at a movie premiere with your former fling, Lily Rose Depp, you saw her jaw clench, her lips pursed together and her tongue touched her cheek insider her mouth. That's when shit went crazy.

Just as you were both sitting down, she sat up, pacing up while repeating your story. When you tried to calm her down, she snapped, frustrated with you. The only other time you saw Kate this mad was when she find out you and Lily still had each others number, she calmed down quick when you blocked it, but now you weren't sure what to do. You and Lily had shared a brief conversation about the movie, which she thought it was enough of a conversation for her to sneak in a hug at the end. You both knew that you guys weren't going to happen again, but a small part of Kate thinks that Lily isn't in the same mindset with you.

It's been exactly a year and a half since the rooftop date, shortly after that , both of you became exclusive when Kate brought you to the annual team dinner and introduced as her girlfriend, you got deja vu all over again. The relationship was still a secret, but it wasn't like people didn't speculate. Everything was going great, Kates career was booming and yours as well, you were nominated for your first emmy two weeks ago, in 3 days you were going to find out if you were going to have a gold winged woman in your hands. Besides that, you and Kate were thriving, moved into a penthouse a month ago, a home just for you two. You rarely fought, and when you did it was accompanied wth great make up sex, so you didn't complain. But you had a feeling that there was no sex after this, just misery.

"Don't yell at me, I'm sorry" You said, your eyes on the ground, shameful.

"Well sue me for being frustrated"

"I didn't mean for this to happen-"

"What did you think was going to happen?"

"I didn't even hug her back-"

"Y/n-" she screamed, again.

"I said, don't yell at me" you screamed back. You felt yourself take a step back , unsure of what to do, you said what you thought was best "I think i should go"

"What?"

"I'm gonna go, spend the night with Emma or Matt or something, we need space before we scream at each other again" you said while rubbing your head with frustration. You heard Kate move, and when you heard her car keys jiggle, you looked up. your tear filled eyes met her angry ones,

"Don't bother" she said, opening the door before slamming it shut. You felt your eyes not bother anymore, tears leaked. Nothing comes for free, everything was with a cost.

☆

"We haven't said anything to each other in 2 days" you said to Jada.

"Nothing, really?"

"Nothing, she goes to practice, i stay in the living room, she returns and i go out wherever i can"

The apartment was filled with utter silence, Kate was not saying anything but you knew that she saw your sad eyes, and even though she was aware she didn't do anything about it. That made it even worse, you had spent an hour crying about it when you made that realization. Was this over? Was this how you two were going to end? And you definitely knew that you wouldn't be able to survive that, would probably stop dating for good after.

"We're just avoiding each other, and it's slowly breaking me" You heard your voice crack, your eyes became glossy. Your make up artist stopped himself, gave you a look of sympathy before asking if he should continue, you gave him a nod.

"Don't cry and do not think about this tonight, you're at the Emmys for god sakes"

That's another thing upsetting you, Kate was supposed to be your date, if you won, she would be the person you would want to get up and hug you, then kiss you after when you were alone. But if she didn't want to talk you, then you weren't going to either.

"You're right"

☆

"And the winner for outstanding lead actor in drama series is... MATT SMITH" You heard them announce. As you hugged your co star and congratulated him, you wondered if Kate had been watching, the next award was your nominee category ,and you weren't sure if you could handle going on that stage knowing she's not happy with you.

As a commercial break was announced, you felt as your empty seat was occupied suddenly, and then you heard her voice. "Hey" she smiled at you, she was here. She was actually here, she didn't miss this.

"Thank you" for coming, you silently thought, you knew Kate understood. She knew everything about you.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world baby, no matter how mad we are at each other" She said, bringing your knuckles to her lips. Suddenly feeling the urge to kiss her, you didn't stop yourself. You didn't care and neither did she when you felt her kiss you back. All that mattered is that you had each others support, you didn't care about anybody elses.

"And the Outstanding actress in a drama series is... Y/N Y/L/N"

☆

instagram.com↙

liked by zendaya, hbo, adele and 2,100,356 others

y/ny/l/n oh my god. i don't know where to begin. thank you to hbo and the most amazing crew and cast mates on earth and congratulations to everybody, this past 2 years have been amazing and unforgettable. thank you to my family,friends and fans, the massive support made me who i am. And finally thank you to my person, i wouldn't want to be here if it isn't with you.

usera oh kate and y/n🥹🥹

userb most well deserved

houseofthedragonhbo congratulations princess rhaesya 💘

zendaya congratulations girly❤️❤️❤️

userc loveloveyouu

userd her and kate are so cute omg😘😋

↳ usere i always knew

↳userf who didn't tho????

userg shes one tony away from EGOT 🤭

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liked by y/ny/l/n, katemartin, hbo and 789,079,657 others

houseofthedragonhbo congratulations to our outstanding actors. thank you, y/n and matt. @y/ny/l/n

millyalcock favs

userh best cast ever

useri hottest cast on earth istg

↳ userj casting director deserves a raise

theemilycarey 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

userk fav uncle-niece duo 😛

↳ userl deaddd

↳ userm targaryen incest hahahahahahhahaha

usern missing them

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liked by aja22wilson, lvaces, paigebueckers and 46,876 others

katemartin congratulations baby, whether you lost or won, always will remain number one in my heart ❤️ @y/ny/l/n

aja22wilson congratulations 🎊

alyshaclark 🥹🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

usero love them already

y/ny/l/n i love you.

userp crying omg this is so cute 😭😭

↳ userq right?? 😭😭😭

lvaces congrats y/n 🎊🎊🎊🎊🤭🤭

↳ y/ny/l/n thanku 🫶🏻🫶🏻

loading more comments…

☆

thankyou for reading <3333

[its-avalon-08]

Hi, could you do a Ferando angst to fluff fic where he and Reader have been dating since his return to F1 and he is frustrated with the team's current season and the reader tries to assure him that everything is going be better and he takes his frustration out on her and they have an argument to the point where he calls her by his ex's name and with that she gives up on continuing the argument and locks herself in the guest room while crying and rethinking their entire relationship, while he tries to apologize and is unsuccessful and goes out to cool his head, and after she woke up, she packs some bags to travel to her modeling gig but before leaving, even though she is sad with his attitude, leaves a note saying that she needs some time to think and that she will be traveling for work so that he doesn't worry thinking that it was all over between them. And during this time, Fernando feels guilty for taking out his frustrations on the person who was always by his side and tries in every way to win Reader back and try to work on their relationship. When the news comes out that he doesn't feel well, Reader gets worried about what might have happened to him and comes back early and takes care of him. In addition to him apologizing for being an idiot and promising to work on their relationship more and not let the frustrations with the team affect their relationship. When his 400th race arrives, he thanks her for being there for him through the good and bad times and tells her how important she is to him.

don't run away (fa2)

✦ pairing - fernando alonso x female!reader

✦ genre - ansgt, ansgt, ansgt, tears, calling ex's name

It started slowly, subtle shifts in Fernando’s demeanor that crept in like shadows. At first, it was nothing that couldn’t be shrugged off—the usual frustrations of a tough season. But as the races wore on and the team struggled to deliver consistent results, his patience began to unravel.

At the garage, he’d be fine in the morning, shaking hands with the engineers, throwing a nod to the mechanics. But as soon as a practice session went poorly or a technical issue cropped up, his mood would turn. He’d clench his jaw, mutter under his breath in Spanish, and become more withdrawn, his usual intensity morphing into something harsher.

Y/N noticed it the most at home. After every disappointing race or qualifying session, he’d come back and barely say a word. The warm, easygoing Fernando she loved was gradually being replaced by a man who was angry, stressed, and constantly on edge.

One evening, after a particularly bad qualifying, Fernando slammed the door to their apartment harder than usual. Y/N looked up from the book she was reading on the couch, catching sight of his dark, stormy expression.

“Hey, you’re home,” she greeted gently, hoping to lift his spirits. She stood up, reaching out to him, but he just sighed, brushing past her and heading straight for the kitchen.

She followed him, watching as he poured himself a glass of water, his movements sharp and frustrated.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked cautiously, hoping he’d let her in.

He shook his head, barely glancing at her. “Nothing to talk about,” he muttered. “It’s just the same issues over and over again. They promise they’ll fix it, and nothing changes. I’m just wasting my time out there.”

She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Maybe it’s just a rough patch? I’m sure the team’s doing everything they can—”

“Are they?” he interrupted, his tone sharp. He set his glass down with a little too much force, the sound echoing in the quiet kitchen. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. Feels like I’m out there driving my heart out for nothing.”

Y/N took a step closer, trying to ease the tension. “Fernando, it’s not for nothing. You’re doing your best, and that’s what matters.”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “What’s the point of my best if it doesn’t get me anywhere? I can’t keep doing this, Y/N. It’s exhausting.”

She reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “I know, cariño. But I’m here for you, okay? We’ll get through this together.”

But instead of softening, he pulled his arm away, exasperation flashing in his eyes. “What do you mean ‘we’? I’m the one putting in the work, putting myself on the line out there. You don’t understand, Y/N—you don’t know what it’s like to be stuck in this situation, giving everything and getting nothing in return.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the sting of his words hitting her. She took a small step back, giving him space. “I may not be out there with you,” she said softly, “but I know how much you care about this. I’m only trying to help.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” But even as he apologized, he didn’t meet her eyes. The tension lingered between them, unspoken and heavy.

In the days that followed, the distance between them grew. Fernando started coming home later and later, throwing himself into extra training or staying at the garage long after everyone else had gone. At home, he was irritable, snapping over the smallest things, and often retreating to his study, leaving Y/N alone to wonder what she could do to help.

One evening, as she prepared dinner, she heard him sigh loudly from the living room. She walked over, trying once more to bring him out of his gloom.

“Do you want to talk about the race debrief?” she asked, offering a hopeful smile.

Fernando looked up from his phone, a frown creasing his brow. “Not really, no.”

“But maybe if you let it out, it’ll—”

“Y/N, I don’t need a pep talk right now,” he snapped, his voice cold and clipped. “I’m not a child who needs consoling every time something goes wrong.”

Her face fell, and she took a step back, the hurt evident in her eyes. “I just… I want to be here for you, Fernando. That’s all.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through his hair. “Well, maybe I need space right now. Maybe I just want to deal with this on my own without someone trying to fix everything all the time.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. She opened her mouth to respond but stopped herself, pressing her lips together as she nodded, retreating back to the kitchen, her heart aching.

As the weeks went by, their conversations became shorter, stilted. The vibrant, passionate Fernando she knew was slipping away, replaced by a man consumed by frustration and self-doubt. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to reach him, to pull him out of the storm he was drowning in.

Each night, she would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what else she could do, how she could bridge the growing gap between them. But every morning, she would wake up to see him leave earlier, come back later, and pull away even more.

The man who used to laugh with her, who would dance around the kitchen with her, who whispered sweet nothings in her ear, had been buried under layers of anger and exhaustion. And as much as she tried to hold on, she could feel him slipping away.

--

The dim lights cast a soft glow over the living room as Y/N leaned against the edge of the kitchen counter, watching Fernando. She could see the frustration in his face, the tense set of his jaw as he rubbed his temples, his posture rigid with the weight of the latest race. She wanted to comfort him, to reassure him that it would get better, but every word she’d tried earlier had been met with a wall of silence.

“Fernando,” she began softly, inching closer. “You know, this season is just a rough patch. You've faced so much worse and come back stronger every time. You’re going to—”

“Y/N, stop.” Fernando’s voice came out sharper than he intended, and his eyes darkened with an intensity that made her heart falter. “You don’t understand. It’s not just a rough patch. This whole season has been a disaster, and every race, it feels like I'm just fighting against nothing. Nothing is working.”

“I do understand, though,” she insisted gently, keeping her voice calm. “I know how much it hurts. But it’s not all on you. The team is trying, you’re trying—”

“Trying?” he scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “It doesn’t matter if I’m trying. No one cares if I try. All they care about is results, and right now, I can’t give them that. So what’s the point?”

“The point is that you’ve always been a fighter,” Y/N said, feeling a swell of frustration herself. “You’ve never been the kind of person to just give up. But here you are, acting like—”

“Oh, please, spare me the motivational speech!” Fernando snapped, his voice rising. “Do you think I haven’t heard all of this before? Do you think any of it actually helps?”

“I'm just trying to be here for you, Fernando!” she replied, her voice breaking slightly. “You’re pushing everyone away, and I’m the only one left standing. Do you want to push me away, too?”

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, looking away, a storm brewing in his gaze. “You’re just…you’re just making it worse. Every time you say these things, it’s like you’re pretending that everything’s fine when it isn’t. Nothing is fine!”

Y/N felt her own frustration boiling over. “Maybe I’m trying to remind you that you’re not alone, Fernando. You’re not the only one going through this. I’m here with you—whether you want to believe it or not.”

But Fernando only shook his head, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. “Sometimes I think you’re better off without me. I mean, do you even know what this life is like? You see a bad race, and you think it’s just one bad day. But it’s a thousand bad days for me, and I’m just—”

“Don’t you dare,” she interrupted, her voice trembling. “Don’t you dare tell me that I don’t know. I’ve stood by you through everything. I know what it’s like to feel helpless, but I’m still here!”

Fernando’s frustration boiled over, and in his anger, he didn’t think before he spoke. “Lara, why don’t you just—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening as the name fell from his lips. Y/N’s breath hitched, her face going pale as his words sank in.

The room went silent, an uncomfortable, suffocating silence. She stared at him, her expression crumbling as the hurt flashed across her face. “What did you just call me?”

Fernando’s face contorted with regret, realizing his mistake too late. “Y/N…I—”

“No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You called me by her name.”

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to…” he stammered, reaching out for her. “I’m sorry, I was just frustrated, and—”

But she stepped back, hurt and disbelief etched across her face. “I get it now. This whole time, you’ve been here with me, but your mind has been somewhere else. You’re so caught up in the past that you can’t even see who’s standing right in front of you.”

“Don’t say that,” Fernando said desperately, reaching for her again, but she shook her head, pulling away.

“Enough,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’ve tried so hard to be there for you, but all I get is anger and resentment. And now, this?” She wiped at a tear that had slipped down her cheek, the betrayal and heartache painted on her face. “I don’t deserve this.”

“Y/N, please, just let me explain,” he pleaded, but she was already walking away.

“No, I don’t want to hear it.” Her voice was cold, a kind of finality in it that stung more than any words she’d said before. “I’m done trying to be someone I’m not just to keep you from falling apart. I’m done being your emotional punching bag.”

Before he could say anything else, she disappeared into the guest room, locking the door behind her. Fernando stood there, his heart pounding, staring at the closed door, helpless.

Inside the guest room, Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of everything crash down on her. The tears came quickly, her hands shaking as she clutched the edge of the bedspread, trying to steady herself. How had they gotten here? She thought they’d been building something together, a real future, but now…it all felt like a lie. The moment he’d called her by his ex’s name, something had shattered, leaving her questioning everything she’d fought for in their relationship.

Outside, Fernando leaned against the door, guilt eating away at him as he listened to her quiet sobs. He’d hurt the one person who’d been by his side, and he didn’t know how to fix it. Taking a shaky breath, he turned away, walking out of the apartment to get some air, feeling the cold night air hit him as he tried to gather his thoughts.

For the first time in years, Fernando Alonso didn’t know how to move forward.

--

Y/N drifted into a fitful sleep, her body curled up on the guest room bed, clutching the pillow as if it were the only thing holding her together. The tears had left her drained, her face stained with evidence of a night spent questioning everything she thought they had together. She wanted to understand, wanted to find a way to reconcile his words and the ache in her chest, but sleep took her in spite of herself, leaving her mind restless.

Morning light filtered in through the guest room window, waking her. She felt the heavy weight of last night pressing down, her heart sinking all over again as she remembered his voice, the name that had slipped from his lips so carelessly.

It was just a name…he was just frustrated…but why does it feel like so much more?

Y/N rubbed at her swollen eyes, steeling herself as she got up. She had a modeling gig that she needed to get to, and she couldn't afford to miss it—not with the way things felt so uncertain now. She packed a small bag quietly, not wanting to disturb Fernando if he was still in the apartment. Every item she folded and placed in her bag felt like a part of her heart being stored away, her resolve hardening with each piece of clothing.

Before she left, she hesitated, her eyes flickering to the empty hallway. She didn't want to leave him without a word—despite everything, she still cared. Maybe he thinks it’s over, she thought, and that hurt more than anything else. Taking a pen and paper, she jotted down a quick note and left it on the kitchen counter, pausing to reread it before setting it down.

"Fernando, I’m going to take some time for myself. I have work I need to focus on, and I think we both need to clear our heads. I’m not leaving for good, but I need time to think about us, and I hope you understand that. I’ll be back, but please don’t contact me until I’m ready to talk. – Y/N"

She sighed, setting down the note with a shaky hand. Her chest felt heavy, but this was what she needed—to find clarity, to decide if she could really keep standing by his side after last night. With one last glance around the apartment, she walked out, closing the door softly behind her.

Fernando woke up in the early afternoon, his body tense and aching from a restless night on the couch. His first thought was Y/N, and his heart jumped, the events of the previous night flooding back to him in harsh detail. What have I done? The regret clawed at him, a pit in his stomach as he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face.

"Y/N?" he called out, hoping to see her emerge from the hallway, maybe tired and sad but willing to listen. But only silence greeted him. He stood, feeling a pang of panic as he checked the guest room, finding it empty.

His breathing grew shallow as he checked the closet, noticing a few empty hangers. "No…no, please…" He murmured, his voice trembling as he moved to the living room, scanning the apartment frantically, hoping she’d left a sign she was still there.

I pushed her too far. I let my anger get the best of me, and now…she’s gone. He felt like the air had been knocked out of him as the full weight of her absence hit.

His eyes fell to the kitchen counter, where a small piece of paper caught his attention. Heart pounding, he reached for it, hands shaking as he read the words. Each line hit him with fresh regret, and when he finished, his vision blurred as tears filled his eyes.

"She needs time…" he whispered aloud, choking on his words. He gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to steady himself. I’ve hurt her so much that she needs time away from me just to think.

“Oh, Y/N…” he muttered, a tear slipping down his cheek as he sank into the nearest chair. The silence of the apartment felt like a punishment, a void that reminded him of everything he’d done to push her away.

He sat there, re-reading the note over and over, each word deepening the ache in his chest. His mind replayed the argument, every hurtful thing he’d said, and the look on her face when he’d called her by his ex’s name.

How could I have been so stupid? He ran a hand through his hair, the anguish in his chest tightening as he thought of her walking out, feeling like she had no choice but to leave him to clear her head. She deserved so much better…

He looked around, every corner of the apartment filled with memories of her laughter, her warmth. And now, it felt hollow, like the walls themselves were mourning her absence. Unable to sit still, he stood and paced, the weight of his own mistake pressing down on him.

"How did I let it get to this?" he asked himself, voice thick with self-reproach. She’s been nothing but supportive, and I repaid her with anger. I don’t deserve her forgiveness…I don’t even know if she’ll give it to me.

He stopped by the window, looking out at the city. Somewhere out there, Y/N was hurting, questioning everything they’d built. And he knew it was his fault. His stubborn pride, his inability to let her in, his habit of lashing out when he felt vulnerable—it had all led to this moment.

With a deep, shaky breath, he turned from the window, heading toward the door. He needed to clear his mind, to think about how to make things right. But the image of her walking out—of her packing her bags, her face streaked with tears—kept flashing in his mind.

As he stepped outside, he felt the sting of the cold air, but it didn’t ease the ache in his heart. He looked out over the city, a painful emptiness settling over him. He’d give anything to take it all back, to undo the damage he’d caused.

Please, Y/N, he thought, his heart aching with the silent plea. Please come back to me. But he knew that it would take more than words to earn her trust again. It would take everything he had to prove he was worth her forgiveness—if she ever gave him the chance.

---

Fernando found himself increasingly consumed by regret. Every memory of Y/N seemed like a stark reminder of the mistake he’d made, the pain he’d inflicted on her. Days passed with each one stretching longer than the last, the empty apartment a shell of what it had been with her in it. He left countless messages, each one a little more desperate than the last.

“Y/N…I know I hurt you. And I’m not asking you to forgive me overnight, but please…just let me know you’re okay.” His voice cracked in one message, the anguish evident in his words.

Her responses, when they came, were brief, polite, and guarded—keeping him at arm’s length in a way that hurt almost as much as the silence had.

“I'm fine, Fernando. Just busy with work.”

“Right, of course. But…are we okay? I just want to hear it from you…”

“Let’s talk when I’m back, okay?”

Every short reply felt like another wall between them, a reminder that she was still hurting and far from ready to forgive him. Fernando didn’t blame her; he knew he’d have to be patient. But it was hard, agonizingly so.

He threw himself into his training, hoping that the physical exhaustion would numb the relentless guilt. But even that wasn’t enough. The sleepless nights, the endless thoughts of Y/N, and the crushing weight of his actions left him feeling drained.

One afternoon, Carlos caught him alone in the paddock, noticing the dark circles under Fernando's eyes and the gaunt look that had taken over his usually vibrant face.

“Fernando,” Carlos said sternly, pulling him aside, “when was the last time you actually took care of yourself?”

Fernando shrugged, forcing a smirk. “I’m fine, Carlos.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Carlos replied sharply. “You look terrible, man. Everyone’s noticed. You need to get a grip before you make yourself sick.”

“I made a mess of things with Y/N, Carlos. It’s… it’s all I can think about,” Fernando admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And she’s still so far away. I’ve apologized a hundred times, but… nothing feels like enough.”

Carlos shook his head, looking exasperated. “You called her by your ex’s name. Do you even understand how hurt she must be? She trusted you, Fernando! You don’t get to brush that off with a few messages.”

Fernando closed his eyes, the guilt clawing at him even harder. “I know,” he murmured, voice trembling. “I know I don’t deserve her forgiveness. But Carlos…I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“Then start acting like it,” Carlos said, his tone unforgiving. “You can’t change what you did, but you can show her you’ll never make that mistake again.”

A few days later, Fernando was in the team garage when George Russell and Carmen happened to walk by. Carmen, who’d always been warm and friendly to him, gave him a sympathetic look but quickly turned stern.

“Fernando, have you talked to Y/N recently?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“She’s…abroad for work,” he answered, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Carmen shook her head, visibly disappointed. “If you really care about her, then show her, Fernando. She’s heartbroken, and all she needed was for you to be there for her. Instead, you hurt her when she was already struggling to support you.”

George placed a hand on Fernando’s shoulder. “Mate, I know things have been rough with the team, but that’s no excuse to hurt the person who’s always by your side. You need to make it right before it’s too late.”

Fernando swallowed hard, feeling his chest tighten as he absorbed their words. He could hardly argue with them; everything they were saying was the truth he didn’t want to face. They’re right. I’ve been selfish. I hurt her because I couldn’t handle my own issues.

Days continued to drag on, and Fernando’s health began to falter. The sleepless nights and relentless anxiety started to wear on him, his usually fit frame looking leaner and more frail. He was haunted by the image of her teary eyes, of her silent, pained expression before she’d shut herself away.

One evening, back at the apartment, Fernando felt the full weight of his actions settle onto him. The walls seemed to close in, the empty rooms echoing with memories of her laughter, her voice, her presence. A sudden wave of panic gripped him, the guilt and fear crashing over him like a tidal wave.

What if she never comes back? The thought stabbed through him, cutting deeper than anything he’d felt before.

His breathing grew shallow, and he clutched his chest, trying to force air into his lungs, but it was like his entire body was fighting him. He staggered, clutching the edge of the counter, vision blurring as he struggled to calm himself.

“Y/N…” he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible. He could almost see her face, feel her hand resting gently on his shoulder, grounding him. But it was just a cruel trick of his mind, and the reality of her absence hit harder than ever.

His knees buckled, and he sank to the floor, gasping for air, his heart racing uncontrollably. I can’t lose her. I can’t…

The world started to fade, his mind slipping into darkness as exhaustion finally took over, and he drifted into a fitful, troubled sleep right there on the cold floor.

---

Y/N’s heart raced as she read the headlines scrolling across her phone screen. Fernando Alonso unwell; concerns raised over health. Panic gripped her, sending a jolt through her entire body. She hadn’t been prepared for this; she’d known he was struggling, but to hear it from the outside world felt like a gut punch.

What happened? Is he okay? She quickly gathered her things, her modeling gig suddenly forgotten. There was only one thing that mattered now: getting back to him.

The flight home felt endless, each second ticking by as worry gnawed at her insides. She replayed their last argument over and over, the way he’d called her by his ex’s name, the look of frustration on his face. What if I was too harsh? What if he really needed me and I wasn’t there for him?

I need to be there for him now. I need to make it right.

When she finally stepped through the door of their apartment, the sight before her made her heart drop. The place was dimly lit, cluttered with remnants of his solitary life. Empty takeout containers littered the kitchen counter, and the living room looked like it hadn’t been touched in days. But what sent her racing was the faint sound of him coughing in the back room.

“Fernando!” she called out, fear tightening her throat as she rushed through the hallway. She burst into their bedroom to find him lying on the bed, pale and visibly weak, his body covered with a thin sheen of sweat.

“Y/N?” He squinted up at her, confusion and relief mixing in his eyes.

“Oh, amor,” she breathed, rushing to his side. “What happened? Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this bad?”

He shook his head slightly, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t want you to worry. I thought… it would pass.”

“Stop it,” she said firmly, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “You should’ve called me. You need me.” Her fingers brushed against his skin, the heat radiating from him unsettling her even more. “I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

Y/N quickly moved around the room, gathering supplies—blankets, water, and a few medications she hoped would help him. She set the pillows just right, adjusting them to support his head, feeling an overwhelming need to create a safe space for him.

“Y/N, really, I’m fine,” he murmured weakly, though the tremor in his voice contradicted his words.

“No, you’re not,” she replied, her heart aching at the sight of him. “You look terrible.”

Fernando offered a small smile, the kind that made her heart flutter, but it quickly faded. “I’m sorry for everything, for how I treated you…”

“Don’t. Right now, let’s focus on getting you better.” She poured him a glass of water, carefully lifting his head so he could drink. “I’m here, Fernando. I’m not going anywhere.”

After a few sips, he leaned back against the pillows, looking a little more relaxed but still so vulnerable. “You’re really here.”

“Of course, I am,” she reassured him, her voice softening. “I was worried sick. I don’t care how far away I was; I always want to be there for you. You’re my everything.”

He looked at her with gratitude shining in his tired eyes. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You do,” she insisted, brushing her fingers along his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath them. “You’ve always been there for me, and I want to be here for you now. You just need to rest, okay?”

I can’t believe how weak he looks, Y/N thought, panic surging through her as she watched him close his eyes. What if he doesn’t get better? What if I lose him because I wasn’t there?

“Y/N?” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “Stay with me?”

“Always,” she replied immediately, crawling into bed beside him. She curled up next to him, feeling his warmth seep into her. “Just relax, cariño. I’m right here.”

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as his breathing began to steady. “I missed you so much,” he confessed, voice still weak but laced with affection.

“I missed you too,” she murmured, burying her face against his shoulder. “You have no idea how much. Just promise me you’ll let me take care of you from now on.”

“Promise,” he said softly, closing his eyes again. “I’m sorry for everything. For pushing you away… for everything.”

Y/N felt tears prick her eyes, a mix of relief and love swelling within her. “We’ll get through this together, I swear. Just let me love you the way you deserve, okay?”

He nodded slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You have no idea how much I need that right now.”

As they lay together, the tension from before began to ease, replaced by a soothing warmth that enveloped them. For the first time in days, she felt hope creeping back in, even if it was just a flicker. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but as long as they had each other, she believed they could face anything.

----

A few days later, Fernando was back on his feet. He still moved a little slower, a little cautiously, but the spark in his eyes had returned. However, it didn’t take long before he noticed Y/N moving sluggishly around the apartment, her face pale, and her usual energy dimmed.

“Amor,” he murmured, catching her as she stumbled slightly in the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

Y/N gave a half-hearted smile, trying to wave it off. “I’m fine, really. Probably just tired from flying back so soon.”

He narrowed his eyes, feeling her forehead. “You’re warm. And you look exhausted.”

“Well, I did just take care of you around the clock,” she teased lightly, giving him a small, weak smile.

“That’s it,” he said firmly, gently steering her toward the couch. “You’re officially off duty.”

Y/N laughed but didn’t fight him, too tired to resist. She sat down, wrapping herself in the blanket he brought her as he hovered nearby, his expression filled with worry.

“Seriously, Fernando, I’m fine. Just a little tired,” she insisted.

“Oh no, don’t even try that on me,” he replied, shaking his head as he settled next to her. “I know exactly how this feels, and you’ve definitely caught whatever I had.”

Y/N sighed, closing her eyes. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Stay here,” he commanded softly, a warm smile crossing his face. “Doctor Alonso is on duty now.”

She gave him a skeptical look but relaxed into the couch, her eyelids fluttering shut as he went to the kitchen. Soon, he was back with a tray of tea, soup, and medicine. She opened one eye, watching as he set it all down, his brow creased with concentration.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make soup,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t look so shocked,” he chuckled. “I picked it up somewhere along the way. Or maybe I just have some natural talent you didn’t know about.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Alright, Mr. Multitalented. I’m impressed.”

He grinned, but his smile quickly softened into something more serious. “Y/N, about everything… I know I messed up. You shouldn’t have to bear the brunt of my frustrations.”

“Fernando…”

“No, let me say this,” he interrupted gently, reaching out to take her hand. “You were there for me through everything, even when I didn’t deserve it. I can’t believe I put my own issues onto you.”

Her gaze softened, and she squeezed his hand. “You were going through a lot, Fernando. I get it. But, yeah… it hurt.”

A shadow of regret passed over his face, and he moved closer, looking into her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry, Y/N. I promise I won’t let my issues with the team or anything else come between us again. From now on, you’re my priority.”

She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “I just needed to hear that.”

He kissed her hand, looking at her earnestly. “You’re my everything, amor. And I’ll prove it to you every day if I have to.”

She laughed softly, despite herself. “Starting with the soup?”

“Exactly,” he grinned, placing the bowl in her hands. “I don’t make soup for just anyone, you know.”

“Special treatment,” she murmured, taking a small sip. “And here I thought I’d never see the day.”

He chuckled, settling beside her and tucking the blanket around her shoulders. “This is just the beginning. I’ve got a whole recovery plan for you.”

“Oh really?” she teased, snuggling into the blanket as he adjusted it.

“Absolutely. This recovery plan includes lots of soup, endless tea, and, of course…” He paused, flashing her a cheeky smile. “As many cuddles as you can handle.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “Thank you for coming back to me,” he murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you for letting me,” she replied, her voice warm with affection.

They stayed that way, wrapped in each other’s arms, as he continued to whisper apologies and promises between gentle reassurances. For now, it was enough to be together, to know that they would face everything side by side.

---

The grandstands buzzed with energy as fans poured into the circuit, filling the air with an electric anticipation. It was a monumental day for Fernando—his 400th race. Cameras flashed, fans cheered, and the world celebrated this milestone with him. But as the day progressed, the weight of it all settled in a different way. It wasn’t just the years of racing, the trophies, or the fame. It was the realization of who had stood by him, through every twist and turn, every high and low. And there she was, watching him from the edge of the paddock with that warm smile that always calmed him.

When he finally had a free moment, he pulled her into one of the quieter corners of the team lounge, away from the flashing lights and the hustle around them.

“Y/N…” he began, taking her hands in his, his thumbs brushing gently over her knuckles. His voice softened, the usual edge in it replaced with something deeper, something raw. “I know today is all about my racing, my 400th, but I don’t want it to pass without telling you something.”

She tilted her head, curiosity shining in her eyes. “What is it, Fernando?”

He took a breath, collecting his thoughts. “I’ve had so many people supporting me over the years, but no one—not a single person—has been there for me like you have. I mean… I’ve never been an easy person to be with. I’m… difficult,” he admitted with a small, self-conscious laugh. “But you… you’ve handled every bit of it with so much patience, so much love.”

Her eyes softened, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I told you, Fernando. I’m here for you, no matter what. I always have been.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. “But I didn’t realize what that really meant until this year. I’ve taken so much out on you, especially when things got hard with the team. And somehow, you stayed.”

“Of course, I did,” she whispered, her voice a mix of reassurance and affection. “I knew who you were from the beginning, and I chose to be by your side. I wouldn’t change that for anything.”

Fernando swallowed, feeling his throat tighten. He glanced down, a faint smile appearing on his face as he collected himself. “You’re so much stronger than me, you know that?” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I might be the one driving out there, but you’re the one who keeps me going. You’re my strength, Y/N.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down for a moment, visibly touched by his words. “You’re going to make me cry,” she teased, her voice thick with emotion.

He reached up, gently lifting her chin so their eyes met again. “I mean it. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I don’t even want to think about it.” He paused, gathering his thoughts as he tried to put everything he felt into words. “You’re my everything. You make all of this worth it, the good times, the bad times. Every single lap, every race… knowing you’re there for me makes it all feel complete.”

“Fernando…” she whispered, her voice wavering as tears pricked her eyes.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Thank you for being here, for being you. For seeing the best in me even when I’m at my worst.” He held her close, his hand gently cradling the back of her head. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder as she took in his words. “I love you, Fernando. And I’m so proud of you—of everything you’ve achieved, and the person you are. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

He leaned back slightly, his eyes glistening as he looked down at her. “I’m proud too, you know. Not just of this career, but of the fact that you’re here with me, sharing this moment. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough.”

Y/N smiled, reaching up to gently cup his cheek. “Just keep being you. That’s all I need.”

He laughed softly, leaning into her touch. “Deal. And for the record, I’ll try my best to keep my temper in check.”

“Good,” she chuckled. “I’ll be right here to remind you if you forget.”

He smiled, bending down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I know you will, cariño. And that’s exactly how I want it to be.”

In that quiet moment, with the noise of the race buzzing around them, they stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, two people who’d weathered storms together and come out stronger. Fernando knew that this race—this milestone—was only the beginning, and he couldn’t wait to keep going, with her by his side every step of the way.

[a-strange-familiar]

an angsty idea: f! Reader flinches during a steamy (not THAT kind of steamy) argument (bonus points for subspace) ends in fluff maybe idk, <33 ur work is *chefs kiss* ily ♥︎♡

Awww. ily too. Hope you enjoy, lovie 💗 and sooo sorry for the late <333

A/n : I got this request little over a year back and I wrote half of this and completely forgot. I got a random motivation to write this now. I really hope the anon who requested it will have a chance to read it. ♡

And also I reached a milestone (not a VERY big one, but its special to me) on my followers, thank you for all your love and support ❤️

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It's been more than three weeks since Y/n and Harry spent some quality time together. Harry was really busy with work and Y/n understood that and focused on her university work.

But it's actually bugging her. She can't lie saying that she is not feeling insecure. He is a very handsome man. Beautiful, sweet, respectful and understanding. And Y/n also know for a fact that there are many women out there trying to get in his pants or his life. But she know him, he would never do that to her. But she can't help but worry about it though.

So she kept herself busy with school and work both but she miss Harry, so thought about talking to him and having dinner together.

Today especially she had a worst day, not completely worst but worst day of the month. From the moment she woke she felt off. Something is not good and she had a terrible headache but still she went to college and later to work.

But in college she got a bad grade in a test which led up to her professor calling her to his office and giving her an earful. It's her mistake for not preparing properly for the test. And later she had to face a rude costumer at her work, and her whole mood got even worse.

By the time she came home she was feeling very low and sad. All she wanted was to cry her heart out and have some snuggles from Harry. She misses him soo much, they are living in the same house but lately doesn't feel like that.

She opened the door and stepped inside to find the lights are on, she thanked the heavens that Harry is home early. She just want to see him and kiss him.

She is feeling soo subby, not in a sexual way. She wants to be taken care of and loved. She wants Harry to hug and kiss her tears away. She just wants to be near him.

She went inside and figured that Harry is indeed home and in his office. As every step she takes she hear his voice taking in phone with someone and he is clearly stressed and angry.

She went near the door and contemplated about knocking the door or directly opening it. She decided to knock first, she faintly knocked and the talking stopped for a second and continued.

She waited for a couple seconds and slowly opened the door.

There he is, sitting in his office with his phone in one hand and eyes on the laptop infront him with his brows furrowed and visible tension and tiredness his face.

Y/n sticked her head inside the room without entering completely and called his name.

He looked at her for second, and smiled. It's not his smile. It's not a smile at all. He just made his lip form a thin line and nodded his head to let her know that he acknowledged her presence.

She wanted to call his name again but she didn't. He is busy and that's visible, as much as she wants his attention she knows better that interrupting something important.

She turned back and went into their room. Maybe after a bit he will be able give her his attention.

She showered and wore one of Harry's t-shirt and did her night time skincare. And after a good one and half hour she decided to go to Harry and talk.

She knocked on his office again and but this time she heard a faint 'come in' .

"Hi baby" She said softly

"Hi , love." He said in return and looked at her for a second and got back to his work.

Y/n fidgeted with her fingers and thought of something to talk about.

But Harry broke the silence. " how was your day ? "

She felt relived that he asked about it and that she didn't have to start the topic.

"Um.... not very good actually." She said

He looked at her with his brows furrowed and asked "What happened, baby ?"

"Just not feeling good and didn't have a good day at uni and at work." She shrugged

"Ohh, I'm sorry, love."

"Harry do you think we can watch a movie and talk for a bit. I don't really feel good. I could use some cuddled and a kiss." She asked shyly.

"Um...... " he started .

"I'm sorry but I really can't right now ,baby. I have so much of work. I can give you a kiss though." He said and got right back into his work.

Y/n stood there without moving. She wanted to be understood, all she wanted was his attention and his closeness.

For weeks she has been an understanding girlfriend and gave him space and let him prioritize his work, but she had enough.

"Harry, it's been weeks since we spent some time and shared an actual conversation. I have been patient but I think you should be understanding to my needs too." She ranted all her thoughts inside her head.

He lifted his head for his laptop and looked at her with an unreadable expression.

She really wished to know what was going on in that head of his.

"I know. I'm sorry that I haven't given you any attention in weeks but I have work to do, Y/n. I can't abandon them and look after your needs." He said that last part in a very mocking way that made her wince internally.

She sighed and started "Harry, I think -"

"Y/n, I don't have time for your chit-chat. Can't you see I have work to do ?" He yelled at her with fuming expression on his face.

Y/n was caught of guard by the yelling, and flinched and her face colored with shock and fear.

She was never in an abusive relationship that made her react this way. But seeing Harry yell at her made her pretty sacred and also Harry can be pretty scary when he is angry.

By seeing her reaction Harry's eyes softened and regret was written all over his face.

He was about to open his mouth and get up from his chair when y/n took a step back and murmured a small 'sorry' and left the room in a hurry.

Harry's heart clenched seeing that expression on her face. He wanted nothing more than to take those words back. Seeing tears in her eyes was the last thing he wanted to witness. But he already made her cry.

~~~

Y/n rushed to their room with blurry vision and tears streaming down her face. She wiped her face and got onto the bed and buried her face in her soft feather like pillows.

She cried and let her heart feel the pain for few minutes before she stopped.

She wanted to go somewhere else and give Harry some space, but she can't just go to anyone's house in the middle of the night and crash. So she had no choice but to be in their house.

After few more minutes she heard a faint sound of their bedroom door opening but she didn't open her eyes or peered up at Harry to see what he is doing

He got on the bed beside her and ran his hand down her back slowly.

"I'm soo sorry, love " He whispered.

"I really, really am. Work is hectic and I was going through something at office and took it on you. Im sorry and I know I have been distant lately. It's absolutely my fault and nothing to do with you. Im just an arrogant son of a bitch."

He kissed her head let his lips linger for few moments.

His words sounded sincere and y/n also knew he really didn't mean to yell but it's still hurt her.

"Can you please look at me ,baby ?" He asked her in a pleading tone that she couldn't ignore.

She slowly turned towards him and looked at him, his eyes were sad and regret colored his face. She felt bad for a second.

"I'm sorry baby." He said again as he caressed her face gently with his finger.

"Can you please forgive me, my love ? " He asked her as he looked into her eyes with soo much love.

She nodded her head and gave him a small smile. No matter what happened it's really hard for her to be mad at him for long time.

He returned her smile and kissed her lips softy. "I'll make it up for you , baby. What do wanna do ? You still want to watch a movie?"

She shook her head. "No. I think I want to get some rest."

His smile faltered a bit and he felt disappointed but he gave her kiss and stoked her hair. "Whatever you want , my love"

"Can you can lay down with me for a bit if you are not busy ? " She asked in a soft voice still not wanting to come between him and his work.

His smile grew as he laid on the bed with her and opened his arms wide for her to hug him and cuddle.

Without wasting any time she went into his arms and snuggled with him.

He kissed her head and murmured "I love soo much, love. I will never ignore you again "

°•°○°•°°

A/n : please let me know if you like this and comment and send me asks and interact with me if you like it.

I have been very inactive on this app, but I'm back. Here is small something for you guys. Hope you like it.

As always lots of love. 💗

°•●°°•●°

Thanks for reading.

Hope you enjoyed.

Please like, comment and reblog of you like it.

[denwritesandcries]

Call me Yours – N.S

Pairing: natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

Summary: You’re in a closet with Natalie Scatorccio. How ironic.

Word count: 2,3k.

Content: NSFW minors dni, no crash!AU, cursing, arguing, jealousy, makeout session, thigh riding, slightly toxic behavior?? but it wouldn't be a yellowjacket relationship if it weren't just a little.

Note: Is it a secret relationship?? Friends with benefits??? I don't know man but they’re horny.

English is not my first language.

You're in a closet with Natalie Scatorccio.

There is a party going on outside, students filling the rooms of Lottie's house with loud generic music playing in the background, but the small room you two were locked in remained silent, too silent.

“See ya’ in 7 minutes, ladies!” Van's mocking voice cuts through the air, but a knife could have done the same; the blonde snorts and you roll your eyes, fixing your gaze somewhere in the darkness so you don't have to face her.

“Ugh, how old does she think we are?” Natalie hisses, you can feel her eyes on your face, even though you can't see much more than the outline of her body at the moment.

You say nothing, arms crossed over your chest and a frown covering your face, Nat tries again:

“I didn’t even want to come to this stupid party.”

“I get it,” you bite, just because you know her well enough to guess that she won’t stop complaining until she gets something out of you, “I get that you don’t want to be here, Natalie.”

She must finally realize how mad you are – mad at her – at the sound of her full name instead of the nickname that always seemed to be on the tip of your tongue, because you swear you can hear her teeth chattering when she shuts her mouth.

With a growl of frustration, you let your head hit the wall with a thud. Great, your night was already being shit, the last thing you needed was to end up playing 7 minutes in heaven with the person who was the cause of your bad mood. Simply amazing.

You see, Natalie had been acting weird for days now, randomly avoiding your company and acting like she didn't know you in the school hallways and being really rude to you during practice. Now, this might even be normal and acceptable behavior from the quiet blonde if you were anyone else, but you weren't. You are her girlfriend.

Are? Were? You don't know for sure anymore given the way she's been acting lately.

Maybe it wouldn't have made you so angry – confused? Yes. Sad? Definitely, but not angry like that – if it weren't for today, for the party.

You had planned to meet Nat at Lottie's party and corner her to finally make her explain what the hell is wrong, dammit, because one afternoon you're smoking with your girlfriend and friends quietly in the basement and the next she's throwing you daggers with her glance every time you open your mouth around her. Anyway, that's what you were going to do, until you found her in the Matthews' giant kitchen leaning against the counter with a cup of beer in her hand and Kevyn Tan practically throwing himself at her, keeping an arm full of spike bracelets wrapped around her shoulders and face with heavy makeup too close to hers to be considered friendly, drooling for Nat like he's always done since you've known about his existence.

Now that really pissed you off.

Who does that sad, emo, pitiful boy think he is to touch your girlfriend like that? And why is she letting him?

You think she could feel you fuming as you stared at them from the door, because the next second she lifted her head and looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights, as if she knew exactly that she was doing something she shouldn't have.

Screw it, you thought, if she'd rather act like you didn't matter anymore, then fine. You won't be standing just watching.

You turned around and only managed to disappear around the house for the next half hour before Taissa appeared with a tired frown and practically dragged you to where the group had gathered with an empty bottle, because Van and Jackie wanted to play something – 'If I'm in this, then you’re too!’ – and well, fuck.

You two have been completely quiet for almost a whole minute and that it's eating you alive; Nat has always handled silence well, you haven't.

Fidgeting with the hem of your own shirt angrily, you huff and give up on the tough act, the blonde straightens up when she hears your footsteps approaching her.

"What is happening?" Your voice comes out in a shamefully desperate tone, “Why are you acting like this with me? What did I do?"

You can see her now, being so close and now used to the dark; her fists are clenched, Natalie keeps her eyes fixed on your figure. For a moment, you think she's going to keep her cold facade and avoid your question with some sarcastic response, she most likely considered it, from the way her mouth opens and closes for a quick moment.

She turns her face to the side, trying to hide, but you can see the difference in tone in the paleness of her skin anyway. Oh, she's embarrassed.

“Nat?”

She mumbles something you don't understand, then your curiosity gives way to the anger and your hands find her face, turning it so Natalie is looking at you.

"What was this?" You ask again, softly this time.

“You called me your girlfriend.” She spits it out fast as if it were just a single sentence, rolling her eyes at your confused face, “You called me your girlfriend to everyone when we were smoking after practice last week.”

Oh, you remember that, when Jackie decided to lecture you all about the smell of smoke that lingered on her clothes after she and Shauna decided to tag along on one of your hangouts with Lottie, Van and Tai, turning up her nose and talking about how you all – and especially Nat – should stop with this habit. ‘Jackie, stop bothering my girlfriend!’, that’s what you said. Is that what made you spend a whole week grounded in the doghouse?

“...And isn’t that what we are?” You try, unsure. This conversation is not taking a very pleasant turn toward a reconciliation.

Nat bites hard her bottom lip, you can see her struggling with the next words:

“It’s just… no one was supposed to know.”

“Oh,” you mutter pathetically, sounding very much like a wounded puppy, “So that’s the problem.”

You're in a closet with Natalie Scatorccio. How ironic.

You can tell she regrets it the moment she says it, grabbing your hands in hers as you pull away.

“No, no, I’m sorry. I– I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How did you meant that then?” Your initial anger and frustration return with a vengeance, you move forward until Nat's back hits a shelf in the small room.

Natalie always does this. Avoid anything that labels your relationship as real; calling your dates ‘hangouts’, not touching you when there are people around, leaving your house before you wake up in the morning, avoiding kisses and caresses that don't initiate anything sexual, calling you ‘friend’ when you can see that the whole team knows this is not all you two are.

Still, – still – she always shows up at your house when she's upset; she doesn't like it when you miss your 'hangouts'; always stays close to you wherever you are together; gets mad when she sees you talking to other girls, even if they are nothing more than classmates; leaves marks all over your body, but doesn't let you do the same, spots and more spots all over your neck that are impossible to cover. People know that you're dating, they just don't know that you're dating Natalie.

And then she gets mad at you for finally putting a name to whatever this is and starts avoiding you completely, even though it's been months since it all started and you've known each other for years.

Nat gasps when your hands find her waist with a firm grip, bringing your lips closer to her ear:

“I’m gonna make you want me to be your girlfriend.”

You swear you feel the shiver that runs through her body. Nat smells like cigarettes and mint gum and it tastes the same when your mouth meets hers.

Her arms are around your neck before she's even processed what's happening, black painted nails playing with the hair on the back of your neck like it's second nature – and it is.

The way Natalie tilts her head to deepen the kiss and bites your lip hard when your hands come up to caress the skin under her shirt says your actions are much appreciated.

The husky, needy moan that escapes your throat when you realize she's braless, palming and massaging her soft skin brings a cocky smile to her face, she sighs, breaking the kiss and letting her head fall back against the shelf in satisfaction.

Nat doesn't moan, not like you do. She seems to want to hold back as much as possible, taking all kinds of reactions from you and your body, but not giving the pleasure of having the same from her. You want to change this.

You let your mouth roam from her strong jaw to her pale neck, leaving wet kisses, bites, and marks. Many marks. You bite the thin skin in different spots, soothing the bite with your tongue, hoping for the spots to form and stay there for days, for everyone to see.

You lazily slide a knee between her legs when you feel Natalie try to turn you around to take control. You usually let her do it, but not today. She squeals in surprise and pleasure, hips instantly grinding against you.

“Nah-ah, Nat,” you cut, bringing a hand down to slow the pace of her hips, “I guess you shouldn’t take anything today, or do you think I forgot about how much you paid attention to that little emo bastard earlier, huh?”

“You hate him that much, huh?” She tries to say in a mockery tone, wanting to turn the tables again, but it sounds pathetic as her voice breaks later in the last words.

“Yes,” you say easily, leaving a lingering kiss on her shoulder, finding her pulse point, “He was touching you. Touching my girlfriend.”

You bite down hard on the skin when Natalie turns her head to grant access and she moans, actually moans, fuck, you did it. A full sound, loud enough to make your pupils dilate until your irises almost disappear. This, this sound, you want to hear this forever.

It's been more than seven minutes, you think, or maybe our discussion was just really quick. You wonder if you would have time to take one of her breasts into your mouth, feeling the way she rolls her eyes and thrusts her hips against your thigh, now free from your hands, when you roll her nipples hard between your fingers.

She sighs as she receives another kiss from you, much softer now, more affectionate, feeling her hand tracing circles on your cheek.

A quick, loud knock on the door startles you both, making Nat jump and bang her head against one of the shelves behind her and knock something over, “Fuck!” She screams and you instinctively reach for her head to check for injuries.

You look at the source of the knock, it's definitely not Van calling, she would have opened the door at once just to laugh at your faces.

“Girls, time is over!” Jackie's voice sings on the other side.

“Ugh,” Natalie grunts, clearly frustrated at being interrupted so abruptly, she takes the opportunity to finally take a look at the closet as you head towards the door, “Is this some kind of pantry?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “Rich people have so many random rooms scattered around their houses.”

There are loud whistles and jeers as you leave, half the football team gathered in the busy room and giving you knowing looks, you give Van the finger when she points out the traces of dark lipstick on your mouth.

“Were you guys actually going to fuck in there?” She teases, arching an eyebrow with a smirk.

You open your mouth to retort – probably with something stupid – but Natalie is quicker:

“Fuck off Van, stop bothering my girlfriend.”

Van gives up the provocation, raising her arms in surrender and Nat rolls her eyes as if she hadn't said anything important, but you're absolutely frozen, listening to your heart beating rapidly against your ears.

Natalie looks back when she notices you standing still and snorts in amusement at your reaction, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you with her.

“C’mon,” she says, “Let’s go, silly, I got something to do–”

“Move!” Jackie interrupts with an anxious tone, pushing you gently by the shoulder and bouncing on her heels, “It’s our turn.”

You catch a glimpse of Shauna standing shyly behind her like a shadow being dragged to the closet and Jeff sitting on the floor with the rest of his classmates with the most confused and defeated expression you've ever seen as Nat hurriedly guides you out.

When you're about to get into her car, Natalie surprises you, grabbing your waist with her cold hands and pressing you against the door, hungry eyes fixed on your form.

“I–” you stutter nervously, “I thought we were going home?”

Natalie nods.

“We are,” she agrees, “I just have to do you first.”

Well, maybe your night won't end as bad as you thought it would.

[bunnybuunn]

Protector.

Summary: Little!reader protecting Agatha from Billy, while he confronting her about what she did to Alice.

Warnings: Age regression, slight angst, fluffy ending.

When the third trial ended, all of you got back to the road. The vision of Alice’s dead body stood behind your eyes no matter how hard you were trying to get rid of it. 

Agatha hasn’t done that on purpose, right? 

She just couldn’t control herself and her powers; at least it was what she had told all of you. Though, you seemed to be the only one who had actually believed her. Everyone else was mad at her, and their disappointed looks were hurting you as well. You wanted them to understand that it was an accident and Agatha wasn’t a bad guy. How could someone who was taking care of you be so cruel to another person? 

Of course she wasn’t meant to do that; it just happened, like any other accident would. 

You got up from the ground and went straight to Agatha. But the minute before you could’ve reached her, Teen stood right in front of her, preventing you from approaching Agatha. 

 

„Mama!”

 

Your voice broke the silence, but Agatha hadn’t gotten a chance to react because Teen started the argument immediately after you yelped. 

You couldn’t see the boy’s facial expression, but his demeanor was giving away his angry mood. It seemed like he wasn’t pleased with the given situation at all.

 

„She was trying to protect you, and you killed her, Agatha!”

 

The boy said it right in her face, making Agatha flinch a little bit. It was hard for you to see her in such a vulnerable state, and you knew that you had to help her, but you just didn’t know how. The fact that you were regressed was only making the situation worse, because everything might’ve become way too overwhelming for you. 

 

„I couldn’t control it.”

 

Agatha said, and even though her tone was sharp, you could’ve still heard her voice trembling, and it made you even more angry. You knew that you wouldn’t let some boy talk to your Mommy like that, no matter what she had done. 

You approached them both quickly and pushed Teen aside with full force. You weren’t the strongest person in the world, but it was enough for him to fall onto the ground with a loud gasp. 

You quickly stood up in front of Agatha, covering her with your hands and your small, trembling body. 

 

„Don’ worry, Mama. I’ll protect you!”

 

Agatha let out a low chuckle. She didn’t need your or anyone else’s protection, but it was nice to have someone by her side, especially right now. Her hand found a way to your back, and she started caressing it in the soothing and gentle manner. 

Teen slowly got up from the ground, and his eyes met yours. His gaze slowly softened when he saw you standing there and doing your best to protect the person, who didn’t deserve your protection or love at all. He wasn’t going to attack you, at least not right now. Teen rolled his eyes and stepped aside, joining other witches on the road. 

He turned his head back once again, giving Agatha the same disappointed look once again.

 

„You are so lucky to have her, Agatha. But it’s sad that you are the only person she has.”

 

You turned around when you made sure that both of you were finally alone. Agatha’s facial expression was unusually soft, and seeing her calm made you smile. It meant that you did a good job protecting your mama. 

You quickly hugged her, hiding your face in her neck while your hands were holding her tightly in your embrace. It took a minute, but then she finally hugged you back, and it might’ve been the first time when she held you like that.

 

„I’m so proud of you, my darling.”

 

Her words almost made you blush. She wasn’t a very clingy or gentle person, but with you she would always try her best. After another minute she finally pulled away, cupping your face with her hands, still smiling softly.

 

„And I am so lucky to have you.”

 

Your eyes widened for a minute, but then you nodded, feeling way too happy to think about the things that she might’ve done wrong earlier. She cared for you, and you cared for her, and to be honest, it was all that really mattered. 

 

„I am lucky too, Mama.”

Taglist: @tinylilacbun @aew-regression-cove

[pbnbucks]

Hi would you write smut for Nika muhl?

word count : 890

warnings : sad sex kind of?, angsty, poorly written smut

summary : nikas been acting weird and you give her a taste of her own medicine

“nika! where have you been its 3:18 in the morning” nika takes her coat off as she walks in ignoring you, ignoring the fact that your screaming and angry acting like nothing happened.

“i was out with the team” she says blankly reusing the same excuse that shes been using for months.

“oh bull shit nika your always with the team” sarcastically dragging out your voice at the girl who clearly had a night who still ego boosted as she walks past you

“you know what im gonna start doing everything you’re doing, im gonna let everything that walks by fuck me, and act like i don’t care and come home late” and with that sentence her heart drops to her stomach as she turns her body walking your way arching her back down to meet your face at the same level using her height to try and claim dominance,

this wasn’t the nika you knew, the one who wanted you to fear her.

“what did you say?” you scoff at her pettyness “you heard what i said im fucking tired so fuck you im going to go do whatever i want and if that means fuck other people then so be it asshole” raging as the girl in front of your face doesn’t change her facial expression only furrowing her eyebrows lightly wanting to remain unfazed.

her familiar hand found its way to your neck thats been placed there many times, when she was in loving and sweet mood but this time shes purely angry

“nika get the fuck off me” she pins you against the wall holding your body under her as your entire body’s are touching each other “don’t ever say that your going to fuck anybody else or so help me-” she says degrading you but you cut her off before she can try and make a point that you could care less about

“you’ve been fucking God knows who and your expectations are for me to be tied down and okay with it? are you fucking serious nika?” nika often took advantage of you, taking you for granted, not listening to things you wanted her to respect in your relationship. she wasn’t the same sweet girl anymore, the girl who made sure you both where in bed by 9 pm.

“you don’t mean that shit baby.” you knew the card she was going to play, sweet talk you and then in 3 days its back to the same day routine “the fuck i don’t nika, i wish i never met your sorry ass”

this was the comment that sent her overboard her whole face changed from nonchalant to complete rage, she overused her nonchalant cover so what happened next had you shocked as she dragged you to the bed shoving you face down as she got on top of you going to say something in your ear

“i wanna hear you say you don’t mean it” you whine because you knew nothing would change you where going to forgive her, she would play nice for a bit and then go do what she pleases.

“please start caring nika” you cry out as her body begins to hug every part of you as she places soft kisses along your jawline “i know baby, i know im sorry..” she says hesitantly as she wasn’t known for letting people see her feelings, not even you.

“i want to make it up to you, so fucking bad” she slides her large cold hands up and down your waist trying to calm you down from your pain washing over you. “i promise babe, gonna make you feel so good” she assures you as she flips you onto your back brushing the hair out of your face and with that your flipped on your back as her hands roam all over your body

she slips the strap on as she slowly enters the strap into your sweet hole as a groan leaves your mouth while your stuff your face into a pillow gripping the sheets.

“no pretty i want to see your face” she coos as she takes the pillow away from you running her fingers up and down your leg.

pornographic moans continue to leave your mouth as nika continues to push her hardened strap into not slowing down by any means.

“so fucking good” you plea out as you feel your walls begin to tighten, nika brings her fave down to face level with yours placing kisses along your jawline

“im so so sorry my good girl, i love you so fucking much” she mumbles in to your neck as her hands roam down to your butt massaging the large chunk she had in her hands

“i love you too mommy” she hums in response to your reply moaning in to the sweat spot on your neck

“i know you do mama i know” she coos edging you in to your release “want you to cum right here pretty” she whispers seductively in to your ear as you liquids begin to spill on to the strap that fills up inside of you, as moans begin to spill and fall out of your mouth.

“so so sorry princess” she reassures you for the final time

but sure enough a week later the same argument and event occurred again.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Shit is just so. so. hard sometimes.

HOLY SHIT MY MOM JUST SAID SHE’S BEEN OFF HER MEDS FOR A MONTH

NO WONDER SHE’S BEEN A NIGHTMARE

ASDFGHJKL WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

[moirindeclermont]

Thanks to @brobinson71 who requested this, in today's episode of "All the Polin first times we didn't see in Bridgerton" we are going to talk about public s3x, featuring a lovely scene that was cut way too short by a horse. And yes, the carriage scene might be considered public but since it's not full intercourse this one counts 😂

They are kissing and in the heat of the moment, absolutely not in the mood to stop. There is so much they want to say to each other but words are way beyond them at this point. All that matters are hands and lips and tongues. Pen had never thought she could miss something like this, but as Colin pushes her against the door she can't help but be so happy that he wants her still.

Colin, on the other hand, is struggling. He doesn't want to have her while he is still angry but at the same time not having her feel even worse. His hand cups her mound and he can't help to notice how wet she already is.

"Pen. I don't know if I can be gentle like before. You must stop me if I'm too rough with you" he manages to say because while he doesn't feel like a gentleman in that moment, she is still Pen.

Pen looks at him, and as answer she goes to unbreech him and he has got the message, loud and clear.

He goes inside her first with his fingers, trying to prepare her and she is moaning wildly - she is going to wake the entire of Mayfair at this point and so he kisses her to muffle her moan.

When she is ready, he picks her up with ease, making her gasp, and one moment after he is inside her. They look at each other, for a long moment, before Pen start moving her hips and that's all that Colin needed.

It's a quick affair, they are both way to pent up to make it last longer. The fact they are in public doesn't matter at all, they are not even noticing their location, lost as they are in each other. Colin comes inside her, and he just adjust them so he can stimulate her with his fingers to make her come as well.

When he puts her down, she has shaky legs and he also stumble a bit. That makes them laugh together and it's like everything else has disappear. "I can't believe we just did it here" she says, breathless, and as he kisses her again, he says to her "that's what happens when you're engaged with Lady Whistledown" and Pen eyes shift into sadness for a moment.

He kisses the sadness away and then he says "let's go back home, while we are walking we can talk" and, finally, Pen thinks that maybe, just maybe, everything will be alright.

I accept request, tell me the first time you want to read about and I shall deliver!

[mcntsee]

— ★ Her voice

↳ Summary: It’s been four years since her death and Spencer is struggling with the fact that he can’t entirely remember what her voice sounded like.

↳ Warnings: Death (oop— you are dead), grief, angst, sadness, mood swings. Not proof read. No use of “Y/n”

↳ Author’s note: This was requested by a lovely anon that is going through the same situation as Spencer. Anon, and anyone else who might need it, you are not alone. Grief is a bitch, yes, but soon enough it will get better. Don’t ever doubt asking for help.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

Since the night they lost her, Spencer has undergone significant changes. His demeanor shifted, not entirely transforming him into a new person, but certain characteristic traits that defined Spencer had certainly faded away.

 

The confidence she had helped him build vanished entirely, leaving him a mere shadow of his former self. His hard-to-understand jokes became less frequent, and the statistical facts he used to effortlessly share with the team seemed to fade into the background. Though they knew he still possessed the knowledge, his once vibrant presence now felt subdued and distant, as if a vital part of him had been lost along with her.

 

Losing her didn't entirely change him; if anything, it returned him to the twenty-four-year-old they had once known.

 

Appearance-wise, he remained largely unchanged. Though the passage of time had left its mark with subtle signs of aging—darker bags under his eyes and a paler complexion, suggesting increased time spent indoors—his essence remained the same.

 

But if there was one thing that underwent a complete transformation for Spencer, it was his choice of accessories. While he had always worn a watch, in terms of fashion accessories, that had been the extent of it.

 

Now, however, his hands were usually adorned with rings—rings that appeared slightly too small for him. It was only when Penelope noticed the gold heart ring she had gifted her on her birthday among them that the team realized those rings had belonged to her, not Spencer.

 

That, or the dagger necklace he now always wore. While the rings constantly changed—every day a new set—the necklace remained constant. It became pretty obvious to all of them that Spencer probably never took it off, especially when the gold edges started to tarnish.

 

With the 4th year anniversary of her death quickly approaching, the team had been anticipating a change in Spencer’s mood. Typically, Spencer became grumpy and irritable as the two-week countdown to the anniversary began. However, this year, his demeanor was more than just that.

 

He was angry. He had snapped at all of them more times than they could count, often for seemingly stupid reasons. He had gotten little to no work done since last week, and most of the time, unless explicitly required, he kept his distance from them as much as possible. Usually, he could be found sitting at his desk, staring at the files in front of him while either tugging at his hair or pulling at the necklace around his neck.

 

They had all tried to talk to him, asking him multiple times what was wrong or offering help, only to be met with Spencer's yelling.

 

It wasn’t unusual for him to distance himself and become grumpier around this date, but this was different. They had never seen him this angry before.

 

So when the day arrived, Hotch called for a meeting. They waited patiently for Spencer to sit down, with JJ closing the door behind her. There was a tense silence in the room, lingering for a moment longer than they wanted, with their faces constantly shifting between each other until Rossi finally spoke, and all eyes landed on Spencer.

 

“What’s the matter, kid?”

 

Spencer, who had previously been looking down, his hands toying with the necklace around his neck, snapped his head up in Rossi’s direction, meeting his eyes with anger.

 

“Is there a case?”

“No.”

“Then, what is this?”

 

Rossi's mind raced, searching for the right words, but his mouth moved ahead, unable to keep pace. Only hesitant filler sounds escaped as his lips repeatedly opened and closed in search of words.

 

“Talk to us, Spence. What is going on?”

 

Spencer’s hand ceased its relentless movement on the jewelry. His eyes were moving around the room, scanning the faces of his team; his family as they watched him.

 

He wanted to yell at them as he had for the past two weeks, to scream and curse them for profiling him without his consent, but tears had already begun to form in his eyes before he had a chance to pick who to yell at first. Shortly after, his head fell into his palms as sobs wracked his body.

 

"Oh, my boy genius." Penelope's embrace was warm, enfolding him completely. Drawing him close until his head found solace against her chest, his arms instinctively encircling her, fingers seeking comfort in the softness of her touch as her hand gently caressed the back of his head.

 

They waited in silence, their hearts heavy as they watched his body tremble with sobs, while Penelope spoke softly, whispering words of comfort, her head resting gently on top of his.

 

After a moment, his sobs became softer, his hands coming up to wipe his face as his back stretched back up again. “I can’t—“

 

With a sigh, he cleared his throat, his eyes unable to meet his teammates’. “I’m not sure I remember her voice.” He whispered with a trembling voice, cracking once while he spoke as fresh tears formed in his eyes. “I think I remember it, but I’m not sure if my brain is just tricking me into believing that’s what she sounded like.”

 

“I don’t know what’s true and what is made up by the grief in my mind,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. With a deep breath, he found the courage to face his friends. “Please help me.”

 

“Alright. What do you remember?”

 

With a slow nod, his eyes closed briefly, a couple of tears escaping without permission as he dove deep into his memories. “I remember her voice had a rasp,” he said, a small frown gracing his features. “I—I think.”

 

His eyes opened once more, scanning the familiar faces, searching for some sort of reassurance in their understanding gazes.

 

It was only then that the team started to realize that, much like him, they couldn’t really recall what her voice sounded like. "I don’t remember her voice being raspy," said Hotch, breaking the silence that had fallen upon them.

 

“No, Spence is right. It was there, not overpowering, but distinct enough to hear.”

 

The comment was only followed by Morgan shaking his head in disagreement, causing doubt and fear to consume Spencer once again. Hearing them talk about something he was sure about only furthered his growing doubt. "I, uh—her tone was soft and patient," he interjected, hoping to quell the uncertainty gnawing at him.

 

At that, Emily perked up, her head nodding rapidly. “Yeah! It sounded like someone explaining something to a child without using an exaggerated baby voice.”

 

It seems like the discussion had been prolonged, spanning over an hour, yet instead of alleviating his worry, it exacerbated it. Rather than providing reassurance, it seemed to have fueled his uncertainty, amplifying his doubts about his own memory.

 

As his frustration mounted, any traces of tears dried up, leaving behind a lingering desire to lash out at his friends for exacerbating the situation. And perhaps he would have succumbed to that impulse, if not for the fact that when he looked at them again, he could see the pain etched in their faces as they struggled to recall.

 

In all the years since her death, he has not once stopped to think about how it would have affected the rest of them too. He had been too consumed by his grief to realize that he hadn't been the only one to lose someone.

 

Emily had lost her best friend, the one steadfast presence throughout her entire career at the BAU. She was the only person among them who had opened her arms and accepted Emily into the team as soon as she stepped foot into the office.

 

Hotch had lost the godmother of his son, the one person who was always there to lend a helping hand, keeping Jack safe and cared for. She had been the first to hug and congratulate him when he announced they were expecting, and she was the one who would always listen and reassure him when he doubted his abilities as a husband and parent.

 

Penelope's sweet tooth flourished with each treat the girl brought for the tech analyst. With endless creativity in her choices, there was never a dull moment when they gathered in Penelope's office, engaging in lively conversations about anything and everything under the sun.

 

Rossi had essentially lost a child. She was the only person he willingly allowed into his kitchen, the sole recipient of his culinary wisdom without the need for her to beg for it like the rest of the team. Rossi was the one she would turn to whenever she and Spencer had a fight, and he was the one she would seek solace in when pained about one of his ex-wives.

 

JJ and Morgan had always been closer to him than her, but they had loved her nonetheless, just as she had loved them. They would often act like siblings, going out clubbing together or bickering about any trivial thing they disagreed on.

 

Looking at his friends' faces now, he realized that, although this whole ordeal might not have helped him at all, they were all trying their hardest to remember her voice. And maybe he shouldn't have told them because, only now that he took in the pain in their faces did he realize that they probably remembered even less than he did with his eidetic memory.

 

The meeting was dismissed shortly after his realization. Now, they were all back in their respective spots, unable to focus on work as they were lost in thought, much like he had been for the past two weeks.

 

His phone vibrated on his desk. With a quick glance at the screen, he saw a text from Penelope. His hand swiftly moved from the necklace to the phone, quickly reading the message that urged him to go to her office before standing up and making his way over there.

 

Once there, he saw Penelope browsing through her personal laptop, sniffing as her hand came up to wipe her cheeks. Slowly, he made his way over to the chair she had dragged in for him to sit on. "Penelope?" he called softly, concern evident in his voice.

 

"I have something that might help you," she said, not meeting his eyes as she clicked on an audio file. With a nod of his head, he encouraged her to continue. "Before she died," fresh tears gathered in both of their eyes, Spencer being the only one successful at holding them back. "She asked me to record a message for you."

 

Spencer felt a surge of anger at Penelope’s admission. "Garcia, after four years, you're only telling me now?" His voice grew louder with each word, and his fists clenched tightly as he struggled to contain his frustration.

 

“I know. I know, but she asked me to only play it for you when the moment was right.”

 

“Then do it.”

 

Penelope gave a slow nod, her index finger gliding across the mouse pad, tapping her finger once when the mouse cursor reached the play button.

 

The computer's speakers filled the room with the sound of shaky breaths amidst static, the interference momentarily intensifying before fading away completely. “Are you—is it... God…”

 

The sound of her voice filled his ears once again after so many years, the tears in his eyes now freely flowing as his heart swelled with warmth at the familiar sound he had desperately yearned for so long to hear again. “Are you recording?”

 

"Yes, but, please, just save your breath. They are on their way there.”

 

“No, I—“ more labored breaths followed as she once again cut herself off. “Spence, I am so, so sorry, love,” she choked out, her voice trembling with emotion.

 

The once-warm feeling in his heart was quickly replaced by a sinking sensation in his stomach. As he listened to the pain in her voice, he understood why Penelope had been hesitant to show him this.

 

“I love you, Spencer. So, so much.” By now, he knew she was crying, her words mingling with the soft sobs and sniffles that escaped her.

 

“I’m offended. You only love Spencer?”

 

Before he could get angry at Penelope for teasing her while she was dying, her soft laugh—something he thought he would never hear again—reached his ears, restoring warmth to his pained heart. “I love you too, Pen.”

 

He had been looking down, but when those words were uttered, he looked up to find Penelope’s face. A soft, trembling smile graced her lips, her tear-stained cheeks adding a poignant depth to her expression as she kept her focus on the computer before them.

 

"I love all of you," she coughed, wincing in pain as she took another shaky breath. "A lot. I love you guys so much."

 

“They are almost there. Hold on, please.”

 

With a sigh, she said, “I’m sorry I broke my promise, Spence. I know I said I would never leave you, but I—” there was a puse as she coughed, “I’m proud of you.”

 

His hand, which had unintentionally been spinning the ring around his finger, was quickly engulfed in warmth. As he shut his eyes, he quickly gave Penelope’s hand a squeeze that was returned.

 

“I love you, baby. Always have, always will.”

 

There was silence after that; the air of that night was the only sound coming from her side as Penelope desperately called out her name, begging her for a response before the sound of his own voice yelling her name reached his ears. The recording ended shortly after the sound of someone’s knees hitting the ground beside her played.

 

There was a moment of silence as the two sat there, hands still in each other's as they stared at the screen. As Penelope turned to look at him, she was taken aback by the soft smile on his lips. “I knew her voice was raspy.”

 

 * ੈ✩‧₊˚

 

As the 7th anniversary of her death quickly approached, Spencer had undergone significant changes since the day they talked about her. His demeanor shifted, not entirely transforming him into a new person, but certain characteristic traits that had been missing from Spencer had returned.

 

The confidence that had once disappeared was slowly starting to return, and the team found themselves once again struggling to keep up with his jokes and to grasp all the new statistical facts he effortlessly shared with them.

 

He didn't completely revert back to the genius they had grown accustomed to, but he was no longer the twenty-four-year-old version of himself either.

 

Appearance-wise, he hadn't changed much. While he had continued to age, the dark bags under his eyes had become fainter, and a light tan had returned to his complexion.

 

His hands were still usually adorned with rings—rings that seemed too small for him. And the dagger necklace still hung from his neck; its original gold color has now faded to almost silver from daily wear.

 

The only new change the team had noticed since that night was the little iPod and earphones that he now carried everywhere he went. He always kept them close, often putting the earphones in while working on files or during flights.

 

When they had asked what he was constantly listening to, he had responded with his characteristic tight-lipped Spencer smile and said, "Her voice."

[icarusflewsworld]

Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 10 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

I hope you like it! Thank you for reading.

Thanks again to everyone who commented. You brightened my days, you are the best thank you. ❤️❤️

! Don't forget to read the previous chapters ! : Here

Happy reading!

Chapter 10

“It’s been three fucking days, Rhys,” Azriel exploded, standing up from behind the bushes where they were hiding. He looked down at his two brothers kneeling beside him, his breathing shaky and rapid. He tried to calm down but nothing worked. He never could. Ever since he had met Luxiana, he had been angry all the time, angry because fear was devouring him. He needed to be near her to know she was safe, but the whole world seemed to want to get between her and him.

Rhysand blew out a breath as he closed his eyes, used to his brothers' mood swings during those last weeks, but he had to say that these last few days were even worse. Even for him. He also had so much more trouble concentrating. He knew it was because it had been three weeks since they had returned from the Archerons and that, consequently, Luxiana was with Tamlin during all this time. 

He wasn't sleeping anymore. Cassian wasn't eating anymore and Azriel was screaming and fighting all the time. They were losing their minds. But they were so scared. So scared that something would happen to their soulmate. So many bad things could happen to her that it was driving the Illyrians completely crazy with worry.

They hadn't heard from her and hadn't been able to take any news anyway. Firstly so as not to arouse Tamlin's suspicions but also because they were busy elsewhere. Busy finding a reliable way to capture the Suriel. They had even completely neglected the other matters concerning the King of Hybern, they weren't even looking for the second part of the book when it was more than vital to find it. No, as soon as they got back, they had thrown themselves body and soul into the search for the Suriel. Even Cassian had read countless books to try to find a way to capture the creature.

They had ended up, after two weeks of intensive searching, going to a dark and gloomy forest to the west with the aim of setting a trap for the Suriel. They had read in some books that the creature had a taste for freshly dead chickens.

They had been hiding in the bushes for three days, hoping the Suriel would fall into their traps. And the number of chickens they had to kill, and which now lay in a mountain in front of them, was astronomical. But the Suriel was still not there.

Cassian stood up in turn, sighing. "He's right Rhys, it's not working. We're wasting our time. We have to find another solution. We have no more time to waste away from her. I... I can't anymore." He looked sad and tired. The dark circles under his eyes made him look puny and he had lost a little weight.

They all three looked equally bad anyway.

Rhys stood up too, his eyes downcast. They were right. They were so pitiful. But what else could they do? It was a dead-end solution. He needed to know if this woman was their soulmate but at the same time it seemed so true that it seemed wrong to have to ask. Besides, in the meantime she was at Tamlin's, she might be in danger and that was killing him. "Alright," he breathed with all his might, "let's find another solution."

Cassian nodded and Azriel gritted his teeth. He had been gritting his teeth for weeks anyway. “Let’s go,” he spat nastily but involuntarily.

Rhysand took a step forward, moving closer to his brothers so he could teleport them with him. But suddenly, a furtive shadow danced at the corners of their pupils, making them turn their heads to the side.

They almost jumped, their eyes widening in surprise. There, perched on a huge fallen and half-rotten tree, only a few steps away from them, was a pale, livid creature. The Suriel. It had just appeared and sat on the trunk, as if nothing had happened. The creature crossed its legs as it raised one of its thin hands, playing with its long fingers and making appear with a strange magic a white teacup more ordinary than anything there that was here.

The three Illyrians gaped, even less surprised when the Suriel took a sip of his steaming hot tea. What the hell was going on? They glanced at their trap and frowned when they saw it still intact. The Suriel had come on his own?

“You had questions for me?” the Suriel spoke in a distant voice, as if from another dimension. He took another sip of his drink, savoring the flavor of the Illyrians’ surprise in front of him.

“You…” Rhysand began, searching for words, still not believing his eyes. He glanced at his brothers who looked as confused as he did. He took a step forward, towards the pale creature. “You surrendered on your own?”

The creature nodded and raised his teacup into the air. "You had questions," he repeated as his only reply.

Cassian frowned. He was going to ask the Suriel why he was here. Why he had come of his own free will, but the omniscient creature already knew his question. It answered him without Azriel even having to speak. "Because you have questions to ask me, the answers to which are extremely important."

Azriel narrowed his eyes. He was disturbed. His shadows didn't even seem to detect the creature and the fact that it surrendered itself was more than suspicious. It was hiding something and he didn't have time for secrets. Not when his soulmate was in danger. Not when Luxiana was possibly his soulmate and that he had already wasted too much time away from her. "Why didn't you surrender before then? Three days ago when we arrived, for example, or even before if you know everything. We've been trying to meet you for weeks."

“Because it wasn’t the right time, now it is. Now, you are ready to hear the answers to your questions.” The creature stared at them with a blank, creepy gaze that made Cassian shiver. The Suriel didn’t seem to feel any emotion, but when he looked at the three Faes in front of him, feelings stirred in his chest. Their relationship with that girl would determine the future of the world. “Ask your questions.”

It was at that moment that the three Illyrians realized. The Suriel was in front of them. It didn't matter why or how he had gotten there. He was there. That meant they were going to have the answers to their questions. The questions they had been asking themselves for weeks.

A ball of anxiety crushed their stomachs in one violent blow, burning their eyes, making their breaths cut and their muscles tremble. It might all be over very quickly. She might not be their soulmate and then it would all be done. But damn, they were so afraid of that. Of losing this woman. And if she was their soulmate… Yes, it would fill them with joy, of course, but also with anxiety.

A silence fell. A silence that none of the three Illyrians wanted to break. They were too afraid of the answers they might get. Normally, they could have been brave but today, this fear was overwhelming. After all, they didn't only have their fear and anxiety to deal with but those of their two brothers as well.

Cassian looked down. He was tired. He and his brothers were warriors. They had lived through wars and battles. Seen and suffer through horrors but they had never been so afraid and they had never felt so cowardly as they did now. It wasn't him. It wasn't them. This had to end. He needed to know.

Azriel froze, with all his muscles tense. He was terrified, he felt almost in danger of death. Then suddenly, he thought of Luxiana, he saw her smiling face in his mind and smelled her vanilla scent even though she wasn't there. He relaxed. He had no doubts anyway. He knew who she was to him. She was his soulmate and that was all that mattered. He just needed her. And then, he could accept sharing her with his brothers if it meant he could have her for himself a little.

Rhysand had to ask the question. He had to, he knew it. It had to come from him. He was Cassian and Azriel's lord. He had to help them through their trials. He had to be braver and more courageous than they were. But the truth was, if he were truly brave and courageous, he wouldn't be here. He would have left Luxiana far away from them, far away from him. Far away from the danger they are for her. But he was selfish. Terrified and selfish. He wanted her. "Is Luxiana our soulmate?" He spoke, softly, trembling, almost inaudibly, but the Suriel didn't really need to hear the question.

The Suriel was just waiting for him to ask it, because that would mean they were ready to hear the answer. And now, they were. "Yes," he answered simply.

A weight lifted from the shoulders of the three Illyrians before crashing down on them again, making them capsize and stumble, as if the earth beneath their feet had trembled. Rhysand fell to his knees, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Cassian let himself fall buttocks to the ground in the same state as Rhysand. Azriel tensed his muscles so much that he gained a few centimeters.

Rhysand couldn't breathe anymore but at the same time he took in deep breaths of fresh air that filled his lungs. So many conflicting feelings were overwhelming him. His eyes began to sparkle. She was his soulmate. Luxiana was truly his soulmate. He began to smile, his heart beating painfully in his chest. Then his joy faded. She was his soulmate and she was with Tamlin, his worst enemy. She was his soulmate and she was human. But he had met his soulmate!

Cassian's legs couldn't hold the weight of the enormity that had fallen on him. This sexy, intelligent and characterful woman was really his soulmate? He was so lucky. But at the same time he felt cursed by the cauldron. His wings fell limply on his back, he no longer had the strength to make them stand up straight. A barbed wire surrounded his throat. His soulmate was a human. She was fragile. She only had a few precious days before leaving him... He couldn't bear it. His eyes began to burn. He had to take advantage of the time he still had with her.

Azriel felt empty. Completely and abysmally empty. He had experienced so much in the last few weeks and it had all stopped suddenly. He didn't realize it. He didn't understand. It wasn't possible. There were three of them. He couldn't accept sharing his soulmate with his brothers. "It's impossible. She can't be our true mate. Not for all three of us. We can't have multiple soulmates."

He thought out loud but the Suriel had only been waiting for this opportunity. And the intrigued eyes of Cassian and Rhysand who had looked up at him were just waiting for an answer. "It is very rare, so rare that the history of the world has only seen this phenomenon occur three times. Three small times in billions of years of existence."

Azriel shook his head, still not believing it. "But how? Why?"

The Suriel took a slow sip of tea, waiting to fully capture the attention of the three Illyrians. "Sometimes, when the history of the world is at one of its turning points, fate takes the side of a part. Unfortunately, it cannot drastically influence the course of history but it can rig it. Help its favored side win by giving it advantages and facilities."

Cassian stood up slowly, reeling, just as confused as his two brothers. "I don't understand," he said, feeling like none of this had to do with them or Luxiana.

The Suriel already knew what the Illyrien with the red siphons was going to say, he smiled. "Some people are born to influence the history of the world, such as Luxiana. And fate took your side by binding you to her."

Rhysand sank further towards the ground, somehow stopping himself from falling completely onto the damp earth. Each of the Suriel's words made his realization and what was happening grow ever larger.

“Why the three of us?” Azriel cried, his eyes burning, his fists clenched. There had to be a reason. There had to be a reason why fate had decided that he would not be enough for his soulmate on his own.

"Because destiny is not the only entity to decide. Because other factors that come into decision have decided to give a balance to everything. And that's what they did with Luxiana. A being so capable of great things cannot subsidize for eternity. That's why she is so fragile. So strong but so fragile. It is the balance of nature that destiny wanted to thwart a little by binding you to her. To protect her. To save her so that she can influence the world as she is supposed to do."

Azriel realized suddenly. Like a hammer blow that fell on him, breaking him into lots of little pieces. His legs gave away and he joined the ground with Rhysand, the air no longer even penetrating his throat that was too tight.

The three Illyrians, trembling until then, understood. They finally understood. They had been bound to Luxiana by destiny to love her, cherish her and protect her. To allow her to change the course of history.

It necessarily implied that she would be in danger and that terrified them but it also implied that everything made sense. That she was so important to the world that destiny had decided to bind her to the three strongest warriors in this country. Their soul mate. It was now a certainty. She was their soul mate. She was their soul mate!

Cassian laughed. He laughed with all his might, bending in two to hold his stomach with both hands. The weight of worry and fear he had felt all those days had disappeared. He laughed with relief, then joy, then excitement. He was going to have to fight to protect his soulmate and damn it, he would do it with pleasure. He knew how to fight and he was even very good at it. His soulmate would be fine because he would protect her with all his might. She was his soulmate and he was going to be able to go get her, he was going to be able to spend time with her. His heart swelled in his chest and his dark circles almost disappeared by themselves. He had found his soulmate and she was incredible. She was perfect. And she was his soulmate.

Rhysand began to smile too, lightening up just as much as Cassian. Everything was explained. Everything. And at the same time, everything that the Suriel had just told them was so unimportant. So unimportant when he was now certain that he had met his soul mate. He was able to take a deep breath and although his heart was still a little tight with apprehension and fear, it didn't matter. It didn't matter because he would face the difficulties with his soul mate by his side. A tear ran down his cheek. He almost felt like he was floating in the air thinking about Luxiana and her scent. Already imagining the life they were going to have together. At four. That was why destiny had made him so close to his brothers. He no longer had any doubts about anything now. He was going to do everything to protect his soul mate. Everything. And he intended to enjoy his days with her.

Azriel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In fact, he took several. He was terrified. He had to resign himself for the well-being of his soulmate, to share her with his brothers. He had to do it for her to be happy and to protect her. In truth, the more he thought about it, the more it chased away the enormous weight from his body. The more he thought about Luxiana loving her brothers, the calmer he became. As long as she was happy, that was what mattered. That was what he wanted more than anything. For her to be happy and safe. Especially since he was going to need his brothers' help to protect his clumsy soulmate. His Luxiana. The Suriel had said that nature had balanced things out by making Luxiana fragile, and he was so afraid of not being good at the task of protecting her. He was so afraid of failing. But at the same time, he began to vibrate. To vibrate with excitement. He had then deserved to meet his soulmate and even if destiny punished him by giving him a fragile woman, he would do penance and protect her with all his soul. She was human but he was not going to let her be hurt.

The Suriel suddenly laughed, startling the three Illyrians. "Is she?" he asked, taking a sip of his tea.

The three brothers slowly calmed down, and looked at each other in confusion. What was he talking about? No one had spoken and none of them had said anything.

"You should go," the Suriel said, interrupting their train of thought. "Go to her, because she's not going to affect the history if you're not by her side, and you won't be by her side if she falls in love with someone else."

The three of them froze, jumping up, suddenly looking cold and serious. They had just learned that Luxiana was indeed their soulmate. They had just learned that they could finally possess her and that nothing was holding them back anymore but now, the Suriel was telling them that she could fall in love with someone else.

"A redhead for example, one of the sons high lords. She seems to like him much more than she should."

“Lucien?” Azriel cried out, realizing who the Suriel was talking about. His heart began to pound wildly in his chest and his fists clenched. He should have killed that bastard when he had the chance. How dare he even think about stealing his soulmate?

"I'm going to crush that bastard's head!" Cassian spat, clenching his fists in front of him, imagining the redhead's face in them. He swore that if it was too late and his soulmate had started loving someone else, he would kill him to take his place. All his evil instincts were awakening under this jealousy. But now that he knew that Luxaina was his soulmate, he had no reason to hold them back because after all, she was his.

Rhysand felt a mixture of emotions. Fear, stress, but also joy and excitement. He had gotten a kind of green light from the Suriel to love this woman and that was all he had been waiting for. He felt like he had lived only for her. Only to meet her and although that was maybe a little bit of the case, it made him happy. She seemed so worth it. He was suddenly so eager to get to know her. She was his soulmate for goodness sake, the woman of his life. He had no reason to keep her away from him anymore, even less now that the Suriel had told him he had to protect her. "Let's go get her," he wanted to look up at the Suriel to thank him but in a cloud of strange magic, he disappeared.

They had no more time to waste. All three of them took a deep breath, calming themselves down, regaining a cool head, mentally preparing themselves, thinking of a plan. Then they teleported to Tamlin's. They were going to get their soulmate back.