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kendyzzlewp · 6 months ago

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Creatures in Heaven||ART DONALDSON

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you run into your old college sweetheart, art, in a hotel bar. old wounds resurface as you tried to make sense of it all.

tags: college sweethearts, angst, non graphic smut?, reconnecting, pain, sad!art, divorced!reader, tears

“I don’t think I realize just how much I miss you sometimes. We were young and so in love. We were just creatures in heaven.”

You’ve always loved hotel bars.

The dimly lit space, the chatter of the guests around you, the overpriced drinks. Sitting down on a stool at the hotel you frequent after a particularly hard day at work, you can’t help but let your mind drift off. The TV above you plays a recap of the latest tennis match. Your old friend shows up on the screen, brown head stuck to his forehead, a huge goofy victorious smile on his face.

You quickly pull up your phone, sending a congratulatory text to Patrick. Making plans to meet before he leaves town.

A glass of wine gets placed in front of you, the maroon liquid swirling slightly.

“Y/N?”

You could recognize that voice anywhere. Turning slightly in your stool, your eyes met surprised blue ones. The pounding of your heart could be heard from miles away. He looked older, fitter. His blonde hair was now shorter, a stark difference to his Stanford days.

“Art,” you whispered, placing your drink down with trembling hands. “Wow, it’s been so long.”

As your gaze meets Art's, memories flood back, and you're reminded of the countless conversations and shared moments in your college dorm. You could lie and say you haven’t been following his career but you weren’t kidding anyone but yourself. You watched every tournament, every match, cheered silently from your apartment as took the tennis world by storm.

As he sits down beside you, you can't help but feel a rush of emotions—nostalgia mixed with a tinge of sadness. The memories of your last encounter weigh heavily on your mind, the pain and heartache still fresh despite the passing years.

"I can't believe it's really you," Art says, breaking the silence. "I've thought about you so often, wondered how you were doing. You look great.”

You look into his eyes, seeing a mix of emotions mirrored back at you. There's regret, longing, and a hint of hope.

"I've thought about you too," you admit, a sad smile playing on your lips. "I watched your matches, saw your rise to the top. I'm so proud of you, Art.

"Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot to me." Art's expression softens, a bittersweet smile crossing his face. “Wouldn’t be where I am without your support.”

The air between you is heavy with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. You both know there's much to discuss, but the weight of the past sits between you like a barrier.

“How’s Tashi?”

You had to ask. Patrick talked about them all the time. Even drunkenly confessing he had slept with Tashi in Atlanta when they bumped into each other for a tournament. You wonder if Art knew, you wonder if he hurt the way he hurt you.

“She’s Tashi,” he whispers, motioning the bartender for a drink. “Same as always.”

Art's response is cryptic, and you can sense the tension in his voice. You remember the pain of hearing about his relationship with Tashi, and it stirs up a mix of emotions within you.

"I heard about your marriage," you say softly, searching his eyes for any reaction. "I hope she makes you happy."

Art looks down at his drink, swirling the liquid around in his glass. His silver wedding band caught the bar’s overhead yellow light.

"It's complicated. Things are... not what they seem."

You nod silently, understanding how complicated a marriage like that could be. You think about your own failed relationship, how it was necessary for you to let your husband go because he couldn’t compare. He could never compare to the man sitting next to you.

“Are you married?” He asked, taking a sip of his whisky.

You hesitate for a moment, the weight of Art's question sinking in. It's a question that holds so much significance, one that forces you to confront your own feelings and past decisions.

"Divorced," you reply softly, meeting his gaze steadily.

There's a flicker of something in Art's eyes, a mix of surprise and curiosity. You wonder if he can sense the unspoken truth behind your words, the lingering emotions that still tie you to him despite the passage of time.

"I've had my share of relationships," you continue, your eyes fixed on the drink in front of you. "But they just… didn’t compare."

Art's gaze intensifies, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what you're feeling. The air between you crackles with tension, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the dimly lit space of the hotel bar.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he says softly, his voice tinged with regret. "But I'm glad you're here now."

You feel a rush of emotions at his words, the familiar warmth of his presence washing over you like a comforting embrace. Despite the years apart and the pain of the past, there's still a connection between you that refuses to fade. You were only really yourself around Art. The rest just got this fucked up, fake version of you.

“I heard you have a daughter,” you said, changing the subject. “How is she?”

A pang of sadness hits you as you see the light in his eyes at the mention of his daughter. You wished you were the one to give him a child, just like you planned together all those years ago. Laid up together in your small dorm bed, hand intertwined, whispering promises and dreams at three in the morning.

“Lily,” Art's expression softens even more at the mention of his daughter, a warm smile spreading across his face. "She's the light of my life."

You can't help but smile at the genuine love and pride in his voice. Despite the complexities of his marriage and the challenges he may face, it's clear that his daughter brings him immense joy and fulfillment.

"I'm so glad to hear that," you say sincerely, feeling a bittersweet tug at your heartstrings. "She's lucky to have a father like you."

Art's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, it feels as though the weight of the past and the uncertainties of the future fade away, leaving only the warmth of the connection between you.

"Thank you," he murmurs, his voice filled with emotion.

As you continue to talk about Lily, you can't help but feel a sense of warmth and nostalgia enveloping you. Despite the complexities of your past and the uncertainties of the future, there's a comfort in the shared memories and the genuine connection between you and Art.

As the conversation flows, you find yourself opening up more than you ever expected, sharing stories and laughter in the dimly lit space of the hotel bar. It's as if the years apart have melted away, leaving only the familiar ease and familiarity of your college days.

You look down at your phone, eyes widening at the time. “Wow,” you exclaimed. “It’s three am.”

Art chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Time really flies when you're lost in conversation, doesn't it?"

You nod, feeling a mixture of surprise and contentment at how quickly the hours have passed. Despite the late hour, you find yourself reluctant to leave the comfort of Art's company and the warm ambiance of the hotel bar.

"It's been so wonderful catching up with you," you say, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. "I've missed this."

Art's smile mirrors yours, his expression filled with warmth and sincerity. "Me too, Y/N. It's been far too long."

As you gather your things and prepare to leave, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected reunion and the chance to reconnect with Art after so many years apart. Despite the complexities of your past and the uncertainties of the future, you know that this moment will always hold a special place in your heart.

As you bid Art farewell and step out into the cool night air, you feel a sense of renewal and hope stirring within you. You start walking down the street, your heart bleeding from reopening old wounds you swore to never touch again.

“Wait!”

You turn around to see Art jogging to catch up to you. He slows down as he approaches you, panting slightly.

“Is everything okay?" you ask, a hint of concern in your voice.

Art looks at you, tears pooling in his eyes. "I know it’s too late, but I just don’t think you realize just how much I miss you sometimes.”

His voice trembles, and you can see the raw emotion in his eyes. He steps closer, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches out to take your hand.

“Y/N, it’s been almost ten years, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about you. I miss the way you laugh, the way you’d stay up with me all night just to help me study, the way you believed in me when no one else did. I miss us.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his heartfelt confession. His words hit you with the force of all the years you’ve spent apart, all the moments you’ve both lived without each other.

“Art…” you begin, but he shakes his head, needing to say more.

“I thought marrying Tashi was the right thing to do, but it never felt right because she wasn’t you. Every achievement, every milestone—it felt hollow because you weren’t there to share it with me. I’ve tried to move on, to live my life, but no one ever came close to making me feel the way you did. I still love you, Y/N. I never stopped. And seeing you tonight, it’s like all those feelings just came rushing back.”

You’re overwhelmed, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to process his words. You feel a mix of hope, fear, and an undeniable longing.

“Art,” you whisper, tears streaming down your cheeks. “We can’t.”

He takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. “I don’t know what the future holds, and I know we both have a lot of shit to deal with, but I can’t let you walk away again. I refuse.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation in his gaze. Despite the years apart and the complications of your pasts, the connection between you is undeniable.

“I don’t know what the future holds either,” you admit, your voice shaking. “But I do know that I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Without another word, he leans forward and presses his lips against yours, the taste of whiskey and longing lingering in the air. In that fleeting moment, everything else fades away—the pain of the past, the uncertainties of the future—leaving only the warmth of the connection between you and Art.

You both pull back, foreheads pressed together, heavy panting as you both try to catch your breath. Your heartbeat resonating in your ears as you find his hand, interlocking your fingers.

“Take me home?” You asked, silently hoping he understood the underlying tone of your invitation.

Art nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I'd love to."

Together, you walk through the quiet streets, the only sound being the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. The world feels hushed and intimate, as if it's just the two of you in your own little bubble of time.

As you reach your apartment building, you turn to face Art, your heart pounding in your chest. The moment feels charged with emotion, a mix of longing and uncertainty swirling between you.

"Do you want to come in?," you say softly, searching his eyes for any hint of what he's feeling. "I think I have some wine…”

He leans in and kisses you again, his lips soft and warm against yours. In that moment, all doubts and fears melt away, leaving only the certainty of your feelings for each other. You opened the door to your apartment, still locked in the passionate kiss.

Art kicks the door closed, walking you further into the room. His hands getting reacquainted with your body, muscle memory kicking in as he lifts you.

“That way,” you mumble against his lips, motioning to a door in the back.

With a soft chuckle, Art carries you towards the direction you indicated, his lips never leaving yours. The heat of the moment ignites a fire within you both as you stumble towards the bedroom.

You want to savor each moment. You need to remember it in case it’s the last time. There’s no rush as your hands lift his shirt over his head, his pale skin glowing with the moonlight that streams from your window. You press a kiss to the scar on his shoulder, feeling goosebumps appear on his skin.

Art does the same, tenderly lifting your dress over your head. His fingers tracing stroking every inch of your skin as he lays you down on your bed.

The room is filled with the sound of your breath mingling with the soft hum of the city outside. In this intimate space, you find solace and connection in each other's arms, lost in a whirlwind of passion and longing.

As the night stretches on, you lose yourself in each other, exploring every inch of each other's bodies as if trying to memorize every detail. Time seems to stand still as you become lost in the moment, consumed by the intensity of your shared desire.

—

Hours later, as the first light of dawn filters through the curtains, you find yourselves tangled together in the sheets, your bodies still humming with the echoes of your passion. Clothes strewn around the floor of your bedroom. With a contented sigh, you bury your face in Art's chest, feeling a sense of peace and fulfillment wash over you.

As you lie there in the quiet stillness of the morning, you realize that this is where you belong—wrapped in Art's arms. He holds you as if you were made just for him, so tightly and close. Trying to bound the pieces of you he broke, together.

And as you drift off to sleep, you know that no matter what the future may hold, you will always belong to Art Donaldson.

#Spotify #married art donaldson #art donaldson angst #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #mike faist x reader #creatures in heaven #glass animals #songfic kind of #art donaldson #art donaldson oneshot #fem!reader

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juleslair · 2 months ago

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Bruno Week 2024

Day 1: Sway

Kicking off with the first day of BrunoWeek2024 :)

#my art #bruno buccellati #bruno bucciarati #brunoweek2024 #vento aureo #jjba #jjba part 5 #WHEW OKAY #First of the two days I managed to finish on time #Been a while since I did digital art but with my current skills I'm happy how these came out!#the two days I completed follow some of the lyrics of the songs chosen for the prompts #I tried to tie them to different events and aspects of Bruno's life #songart? Is that a thing? Is this kind of art called songart?#I've heard of songfic #ANYWAYS I hope fellow Bruno enjoyers like this :''''')))

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so-long-soldier-writes · 6 months ago

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It's a Cruel Summer, With You

kai parker x reader | requested

summary: kai's never had anyone tell him they love him. he panics when he hears it for the first time.

tags: based on cruel summer by taylor swift, mild enemies to lovers, drinking / alcohol, secret relationship, summer love, love confessions, fear / panic, past trauma affecting relationships, emotional hurt, unrequited love (but not really), break-up, heartbreak, unhappy ending, one teensy edgar allen poe reference

word count: 5k

a/n: anon, i apologize once more for the amount of time this took! i hope you like it, and i hope i did taylor swift justice. 🩷 i also hope it makes sense bc sometimes i feel like my thoughts are just all over the place 😅

You were staring daggers into the back of his head, three days after a drastic turning point in their lives. And he, feeling your eyes upon him, turned to face you and smiled. That enraged you like nothing else; no man had ever had such an audacity with you, to raise the hell that he had and still offer a smile. You looked back down at your drink, still fuming, and still aware of him watching you, and texted your friends about it. One replied with an equal disgust, another sent a funny-to-her joke, and there was no response from the third.

“Maybe he’s got a sweet spot for you,” she had said.

“Ha.”

A sweet spot that’d make him kill you last, maybe.

You rolled your eyes exhaustedly, but by the time you looked back down, someone had slunk into the booth across from you. You jumped, then rolled your eyes a second time at the realization of who it was.

“Hey cutie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Kai shrugged, unbothered. He kept eye contact with you in a way that made it hard to look away; his blue eyes seemed to pierce right into your soul. They weren’t bright, like Damon’s, but instead had a touch of darkness in them. Like storm clouds rolling in on a bright, sunny day. They threaten rain, but you’re not sure if the downpour will come today or tomorrow.

Kinda like how he came into Mystic Falls.

“What do you want?” You bit, after about thirty seconds of staring.

“Are you scared of me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you afraid of me?” He repeated, eerily softly.

“Why would you think that?” Forced bravery is better than none, especially when faced with Kai Parker.

“There’s a slight tremor in your voice. Only one finger touches the table, as if you’re unable to settle. You struggle to meet my eyes.”

“What are you, a psychologist?”

“I’m a sociopath.”

Shocker.

“So?”

“I notice things.” He took a sip of your coffee. Reached out across the table, met your eyes, and sipped your drink. Again, the audacity. “I spent a lot of my childhood isolated. I had a lot of little brothers and sisters, and they were all taught to be afraid of me. I know how to read the signs.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“That’s what they’d say, too.”

“Well I’m not your siblings, and I’m not putting up an act. I don’t trust you, and I think you’re an ass, but I’m not afraid of you.” Your statement’s bold, but he had struck something fierce in you. A nerve, maybe on purpose, that wasn’t going to let him win this time.

Kai smiled at that. His gaze dropped to the table, surveying your hands once more. His own pointer finger dragged along the wood. “I like you, Y/N. You’re plucky.”

The words took a moment to register - Kai saying he liked you. Kai didn’t like anyone.

He got up to leave, causing you to turn towards him, prepared to jump out of the booth if you had to. “Well don’t.”

He cocked his head. “What?”

“I don’t want you to like me. I want nothing to do with you; you said it yourself, you’re a sociopath, and I don’t need that kind of bad energy in my life.”

That seemed to be funny to him, judging by the way he chuckled. “Okay, Y/N.” He put his hands up in surrender. “I won’t like you then.”

And with that, he was gone.

Of course, he wasn’t gone - gone. Kai was never gone - gone from anything, even when people yelled at him to leave. He would disappear for a couple days, but he always came back.

And somehow, after your interaction, you’d see him more frequently at the grill, too. He’d never talk to you, but you could feel his gaze. His stone cold blues would linger on you, almost like an animal stalking prey.

It made you anxious, jittery. But somewhere, secretly, also a bit excited.

He was dangerous in a way that drew you in. He had this aura about him that intrigued you as much as it scared you. You knew what he had done, and what he was capable of, and yet he still occupied the curious corners of your mind.

And somehow, he seemed to know that.

♫

How it happened from there is something you still question. Death glares became stolen glances, became blushing smiles, and by the next time he joined you at your booth, you didn’t try to fight him off. Kai ordered an uncharacteristically pink cocktail to match your own tropical choice. Neither said much as you both drank the rum mixtures down to the ice. You communicated in eye contact, mostly, as if daring the other to speak. Your stubborn personalities that should’ve clashed seemed to meld together instead. An intense staring contest was born. You found yourself entertained in the game, and quickly, enjoying it, too.

The booze soaked your brain as you continued to drink; your thoughts were fuzzy, and whenever you tried to catch them, they’d dissipate like cotton candy dropped in water. When Liv closed the restaurant around midnight, she unknowingly crashed the floodgates that weakly stood between you two. Ten feet out onto the street, you fell into him and he held you up. You laughed in his arms, partly due to your own drunken state, but partly that it’s Kai keeping you on your toes. He held you tight until you found your footing, just for you to crash your lips onto his unsuspecting own. The witch, taken aback but not opposed to it, let you taste him for a moment before kissing back. He pushed you up to the nearest wall, feeling and exploring, before hailing a ride back to your place.

It had been forever for both of you. The uber driver with a ‘no touching’ rule sobered you up a little, but not enough to make you think twice about it. By the time he laid you down on your sheets, any doubt in your mind had fizzled out. He was a gentle lover, much to your surprise, likely because it was such an unfamiliar feeling to be so intimate with another. The little control you tried to take was met with a laugh, and you understood the signal. You didn’t mind being underneath him, though, nor did you mind him staying the night.

Guilt struck you when you first woke up in his arms, but not enough to barr yourselves from meeting again. The first few times you had to be drinking to convince yourself it was okay, but the more morning-afters you spent together, the less ashamed you started to feel. With time, nights started to feel less like hookups and more like something else. He became something you adored when you had, and craved when you did not. The feelings were mutual, though harder to pull out from the siphon, until you asked him directly, putting both your hearts out for the other to grab.

“What are we?” You asked, head leaning on the vending machine as he fetched himself a post-high gatorade. A bag of cookies were held in your own hand from the exchange you made one minute prior.

“Having fun,” Kai replied.

“Kai…”

“Or so I think,” he followed his words, questioning the look on your face.

“Are we anything more? Will we ever be?”

A loud voice down the hall that vaguely resembled his sister made a sharp remark to another person. His response sounded closer, as if they were heading in your direction. Kai grabbed your arm and muttered a simple cloaking spell until they both passed. Liv and Tyler both disappeared into her room, then Kai removed his hand. His touch lingered on your skin for a moment. You’ve grown to quite like the feeling.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’m not exactly the person for relationships, if you aren’t aware. I’m a sociopath that was locked in complete isolation for eighteen years.”

“I don’t care.” You grabbed his hand and laced your fingers together. “I like you. I don’t want this to stop. I want it to be more.”

“I’m not built for this.”

“But do you want it?”

His mouth went dry as he already knew the truth. He did. He wanted you so much, but fear held him back like a dog on a leash. He didn’t have much slack. “I want you,” he finally said. “I want this to work.”

“I’m not good at relationships, either. We’re figuring this out together.”

Kai seemed to accept that better, and two minutes later, he climbed back under the sheets with you, turning on a movie and sharing snacks until you fell asleep.

♫

As your relationship progressed, it was tested, like all relationships ever are. You grew closer, more comfortable, as summer went on. Much of your time spent together was at night; you hadn’t told your friends, not ready for their questions nor their judgment, nor did you want the word out to his coven yet, afraid of whatever wrath his father could bring if he were to disapprove. You were still figuring things out, still learning about each other, and testing yourselves through time, and that was okay. Life isn’t something to be learned in a day, it’s something in which to be present to see where it takes you.

So, you let yourselves live, to do just that. On top of rooftops and beside small creeks, you snuck out to enjoy each other’s company. Mystic Falls has a lot of places to hide if you know where to look.

A couple times, you’ve almost ran into others. More than anyone being Liv and Tyler, also avoiding her father. Once, you’ve ducked under bushes to hide from Bonnie. Kai kissed your neck while his hand was clamped over your mouth, daring you to give away your position, while playfully inhibiting your chance to do so.

Sometimes, you were drunk when you found yourselves venturing the town together. The bar in which neither Matt nor Liv worked became a hotspot for you. But instead of ending the night short, you opted to explore the late hours in each other’s company. The alcohol wore off quickly, but the drunkenness brought on by your unconfessed love never did.

Kai, as it turns out, was easy to fall in love with. He was charming when you first met, but you were tickled to learn that underneath his manipulation tactics, he could be just as endearing authentically. He was a jokester and a flirt, whether across a room when you’d spot each other in public, or when you were hanging out together alone. You were never afraid to be alone with him. If your friends knew you were out with him, alone, at night, they would’ve freaked, but he always made you feel safe. And, once he felt comfortable being vulnerable with you, he revealed a side that could be sweet, too.

Even after arguments, you were able to patch things up as if they hadn’t happened. Sometimes, he’d be bristling and volatile, but you knew that a lot of his anger came from a place of fear. You learned what to say that would calm him down; you told him what he needed to hear to feel safe again. You’d provide him with the comfort he’d always desired, and when he settled, he’d melt into your touch and softly request forgiveness.

You complimented each other perfectly. And while it took you a moment to name the emotion, the feeling had been there all along. It was love.

♫

You were only slightly drunk the first time you realized the truth. Kai was painted in perfect, purple lighting, and his eyes seemed to sparkle when they met yours. You stumbled towards him and put your arms around his neck. He caught you, hands finding your waist. The music seemed to fade out as you swayed with him to the beat. It was as if a bubble captured you both, drowning out the rest of the world, making him your world, and in that moment, nothing else existed. You kissed him quickly, desperately, like an addict gone too long without a hit. He met you halfway, equally addicted.

And then, because you were young, and stupid, and courageously in love, you blurted out the words swimming restlessly in your mind,

“I love you.”

You looked up at him, not expecting an answer just yet, but to offer an encouraging smile. Before your gaze even reached his, his body tensed. His hands felt like ice upon your nervously warmed skin, and his once-strong grip on your waist loosened. Kai wore an expression of confusion, different from the emotion that you tasted on his lips. You opened your mouth to retract the words, but nothing came out. The bubble that consumed you seemed to crack; the music previously blocked filled your eardrums once again.

A fraction of a second later, you were guided to a hallway by your fingertips. The narrow path reduced some of the music, but most of the traffic. The man of your affection took to one wall, leaving you in the middle. You tried for his hand after he let it go, but dropped it at the discomfort he seemed to feel in having you hold it.

You racked your brain for the right words, but nothing seemed perfect. You stared at the ground beneath your feet for a half second longer until he spoke,

“You can’t do that.”

“What?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m sorry? I don’t. What did I do wrong?” He only shook his head, prompting you further. “Was it what I said or when I said it? Because I don’t think it’s wrong of me to confess what I feel for you when I know that it’s true.”

“It can’t be true. You can’t feel that for me.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Provide me with a reason,” you interrupted, “or let me do as I please. I want to love you. I do, and I won’t apologize for it.”

“Y/N-”

“We’ve had some tough times together, I know we have, but we’ve gotten through them. We - us, together - have worked through so much to get here. Of course I love you, there’s so much effort and, and, love, that connects us.” You paused, letting your thoughts catch up to your mouth. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t even have to acknowledge it, if you’re not ready. I know it’s a big step.”

“You can’t go there, Y/N.”

“I know, okay, maybe it was too much, too soon. I’m sor-”

“No, you can’t ever go there. You can’t love me and you shouldn’t. I’m not designed for relationships, they’re not meant for me. Do you not remember the things I’ve done?”

“We’ve talked about this, Kai. You confided in me about your fears, but we handled them, I thought. Do you not remember what I said?”

“I do, but-”

“‘Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway’.”

“By Poe,” Kai finished.

“And it’s true. I don’t care about the things you’ve done. I want to love you, and I do.”

“But you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t excuse the things I’ve done just because you want to see me for someone who I am not. You shouldn’t be so desperate to see a difference in me that you convince yourself you love me.”

“What?! Kai, I’m not excusing nor am I desperate. I know you’re different from the you that wrought pain upon the town. That guy’s gone, buried, with this you in his place. And I quite like this you, and I’ve learned to love him, because his progress is worth loving. He is worth loving. You are.”

“The old Y/N would never say such things about her sworn enemy. You’d never dare hold his hand, nor kiss his lips, nor say such things, because you’d know better, and if you did, it’d be because of some horrible nightmare, or some instance where I spelled you to get what I needed, because Y/N, we’re living in a fantasy, and none of this is real.”

“I don’t understand! This is real! We’re here, together, and we were dancing, and we were happy, and now we’re in this hallway. Still together, but now questioning if the summer we’ve spent together has all been a hoax, or if that’s the booze talking.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“You have to be, to think what you’re saying is true.” You paused, heartbroken, and afraid to show it, but pretty sure the choke in your words already had. “So are you saying you’ve never meant it? All the times you’ve kissed me were just folly? Or the nights we stayed up until the sun rose again were only dreams I made up?”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N. I know what we’ve done, and I know we’ve shared moments, but a fantasy is all this is for us. Something we want, but cannot have. We have to wake up some day.”

“I disagree, I think we can make it work.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. This was never supposed to be a long-term thing.”

“But we said it could be! We said it could make it work!”

“And that’s what makes it a fantasy! We both know that’s a lie.”

“Kai, I don’t understand. Ten minutes ago, we were fine. Yesterday, you gave me a kiss that swept me off my feet; that replaced all my organs with butterflies; that made me feel like full-bloomed roses on the nicest day of the year. You made me feel cherished, and happy, and beautiful, but now, I feel like I’m on the end of a well-thought out joke, and everyone’s finally allowed to laugh.”

“I’m not saying this to break your heart. I’m just trying to be realistic.” He reached out to wipe a tear from your cheek, but you smacked his thumb away.

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling, but you still tried to talk through them. “I thought we were being realistic when we stayed up talking, all those nights, about how we knew each other’s flaws but were willing to work through them anyway. I would think, if we weren’t, we wouldn’t have spent a whole week together and considered getting an apartment to share, because we work just that well.”

“That only proves my point further. We haven’t been together long enough to make big decisions like that.”

“Then we’ll put it on pause and address it later.”

“Y/N-”

“Why are you doing this? Why does it seem like you’re giving up on us? Why are your words sounding like a preface to a break up?”

“Because they are,” he confessed, “because they have to be.”

“What do you mean, ‘they have to be?’”

“We can’t work. You can’t love me.”

“But I do, and I want to, and we do! We’ve managed to make it work, despite our-”

“But how long do you think we can keep this up? When will our differences outweigh our desires to stay together? When will we tell your friends about us? My family? We are too different for us to work, and I’m too damaged to be loved by you. We have to stop living in this fantasy.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying this. Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“I’m not drunk, Y/N.”

“So what, have you been planning this? Have you been waiting for the perfect time? Funny, that the perfect time seems to be when I tell you I l-”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, “don’t say it again.”

“What?”

“The less you say it, the less you’ll believe it.”

“That’s bullshit. I believe it in the deepest corners of my heart. You’re etched into my bones. You’re the shimmer of light in the darkest parts of my mind. I love you, Kai Parker. I love you, and I don’t want to apologize for it, and I won’t believe that I’ve made this all up in my mind. It’s okay that you don’t love me, but don’t you dare try to say you feel nothing.”

“Y/N-”

“‘Tell me all the terrible things you’ve done, and let me love you anyway’.”

“You can’t. I won’t let you.”

“You don’t have a choice. I don’t. I can’t control my heart nor its desires. It wants you; you have it. Tell me you don’t crave it. I know you crave love, Kai. I know it in the way you kiss me, and in the way you hold me. I know it from the time you confessed, at two in the morning when you were too tired to hold back, and I know it from when you told me, clear as day, on that Wednesday afternoon. I love you, and I’m not afraid to love you. Why don’t you give in to what I know you want?!”

Because your love isn’t mine to take.

Because I don’t deserve it.

Because you’re a gemstone, perfect and pure, and I’m the dirt from which it was pulled.

“Because I don’t feel the same for you,” he said instead, “I’m not capable of love. I’m a sociopath, and anything I’ve ever said was for my own fleeting pleasure. It’s over now. I’m done. I’m bored with us.”

“What? No. Something’s wrong. This is not the same Kai I spent the summer falling in love with. Are you Damon in disguise? Pulling some sick prank?”

“I’m not, Y/N. It’s me, being realistic, and telling you I don’t love you, and I never will. It’s time to go home, Y/N, and to your own bed, in your own sheets.”

The tears streaming down your face run your make-up, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. “But my sheets smell like you.”

“Then wash them.”

The harshness in his tone was unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. When you finally brought yourself to meet his eyes, there was no light inside them, no humanity. His jaw was tensely set, and for the first time in months, you saw the Kai that everyone feared when he had broken himself free of his eighteen-year punishment. Scared and sorrowful, you backed away from him. He didn’t follow. You backed further and further away until you were stumbling out of the bar. The wicked August heat kissed your neck like he used to - passionately. You grabbed your hair, fumbling it up into a bun to get it off your skin, then searched for your phone to call a ride.

As the white sedan approached your meeting spot, you trained your blurry vision on the door, but Kai never came out. He never shouted your name, hurried down the steps, nor caught you in an apologetic embrace, blaming his temporary ignorance on too much to drink. He never peered through a fingerprint-stained window, watching you from the glass, wondering if it's too late to take back what was said. It was just silent, as car engines roared and drunk couples chattered around you.

When your ride finally came, you cried harder than you ever had in your life. Your driver glanced to the backseat, but didn't know a good time to interrupt, so he didn't. He offered a polite smile as you got out, thanked you for the five-star rating, and made sure you got in your apartment safely before pulling back onto the road.

You barely made it through the door before crashing on the couch. Exhaustion settled in your bones halfway through the drive, and you couldn’t even think about climbing the stairs. The worst headache of your life pounded in your skull. Water was too far of a walk, so you let it throb.

You tried your best not to think about Kai. His words rang in your head on repeat like an old antique bell - loud, heavy, constant. It almost felt like the whole night was a fluke. A nightmare. A spell, perhaps done by his father, or one of your disappointed friends. When you wake up, he’d be there, kissing your fingertips as the smell of coffee fills the air. You let this thought comfort you, and let it soften your heart. Although, deep down, you knew the truth.

He wouldn’t be there. He didn’t want you.

You’ve never known pain like this before.

♫

You can only ignore your friends for so long. Blaming a long to-do list can only give you so many excuses, and when Caroline messages you mid-afternoon on a Friday if you’d meet them at the Scull Bar, you realize you don’t have any more excuses left. So, cautiously, you pull yourself from your bed and drag your feet to your closet. You still haven’t washed your sheets, despite wanting to be rid of his once-comforting smell. It’s more stubbornness than anything, refusing to do the chore. If he thinks throwing a piece of fabric in the wash will rid you of him, he’s a damn fool.

You hadn’t been lying. He owns a part of your heart, and that can’t be simply washed away with some eco-friendly detergent.

Truthfully, you think, ignoring the heaviness in your bones as you enter the Scull Bar, the only way to remove him would be to carve out your heart entirely; to separate it from its lifeline and from all that’s familiar. But, you can’t, so you choose to let it bleed instead, and hope it doesn’t seep through your clothes.

A vague sadness hangs above your heads, but none of your friends know the cause. You told them you were tired before joining them. You must not have gotten a good night’s sleep.

After all, it’s the first time in Mystic Falls where something tragic isn’t happening. Damon and Elena are planning out their lives, Stefan and Caroline are newly together, and Bonnie and Enzo, a quite unexpected pair, seem to be happy. Jo is five months pregnant, and Kai has left her alone. The girls wonder if that’s of his own volition, or if someone or something is distracting him, but you don’t offer any suggestions. When they then ask you about your own dating life, you only shrug. They tease playfully, having no idea about the wreckage your heart is still trying to piece back together. The cause seems hopeless. You don’t even have the energy to confide in them.

The topic finally changes, but only because the one who dropped your glass heart enters. You turn when you catch a bit of his familiar cologne, but remind yourself he’s no longer yours and turn again just as fast. The girls let their gazes linger on him as if daring him to bother them, and for a moment, Kai wonders if you told them. But then, as they shrug and go back to their conversation, he knows you didn’t. Otherwise, they’d be hurling bitter words and sharp tools at him for breaking their best friend’s heart.

And honestly, he wishes they were.

It’s what he deserves, after all.

♫

“I love you,” you had said, only a couple weeks ago.

His heart stopped. His throat went dry.

The words seemed to have been shouted at him, despite the booming bass around them. You weren’t yelling, though, you were simply telling the truth.

A truth he wasn’t ready to hear. A confession he didn’t know how to process.

How could you, a perfect person, love him, someone so tainted and dark?

How could he ever love you the way you deserved?

He did love you, of course. He knew it long before you ever confessed, but it was never something he felt okay to share.

You always made him feel safe. Comfortable. Dare he say it, loved.

But love was something he had never felt before, and to have something means that it can be lost. And to not lose it tragically, he must be the one to take it away.

Hearing the words fall from your lips was both the best and the worst thing he could ever hear. He craves love, he knows he’s admitted it. He craves it more than anything else in the world. But wanting it and having it are two very different things, and now that he has it, he regrets asking for it.

He had to hurt you then, before your soul could be completely shattered later. He had to stop it. Right then. Before he let you in too much and you got too attached.

So, he lied.

He broke his own heart with every word, but it was nothing compared to the damage he knew it was doing to your own. He wanted nothing more than to sweep you into his arms, hold you tightly, and say it was all just a spell - an outside force trying to drive you apart - but he couldn’t. His fear of hurting you triumphed over his love for you. His mouth spoke before his mind could process the words he professed. He became unrecognizable to himself by the time he delivered his final blow. Your tears stained your perfect face and your posture was defeated, but he was no longer the one that could offer any solace. He was now the one that ruined you, and there was no coming back from what he had done.

How terrifying it is, that three little words can make or break you.

How terrifying it was, to wake up the next morning and realize the damage caused. To have to come to terms with the fact that he had broken the only good thing in his life. To imagine the love of his life sitting on the couch, stirring coffee, with a head full of questions neither will ever be able to answer.

“I love you, Kai Parker. I love you, and I don’t want to apologize for it…”

“I love you,” ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?

#malachai parker x reader #kai parker x reader #tvd fanfiction #kai parker oneshot #kai parker angst #requested #taylor swift cruel summer #kind of a songfic but not really?#kai parker fics #unhappy ending

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fryingpan1234567 · 10 months ago

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each of the batkids is New York vibes in a different way

look I know Gotham is closer to NJ but hear me out

Dick— Welcome To New York (Taylor Swift)

Babs— Morning In America (Jon Bellion)

Jason— HEROES (Macklemore)

Cass— That’s My Girl (Fifth Harmony)

Tim— American Boy (Estelle)

Steph— Boo York, Boo York (Monster High)

Duke— Empire State of Mind (JAY-Z)

Damian— Dancing In the Dark (Rihanna)

Dick Grayson is NY in a Welcome To New York way. Gotham, Blüdhaven, Jersey, it’s all the same— dark, rainy, a little bit evil at times. And yet he sees the beauty of it all, and he truly loves his city. No matter how many times life kicks his ass, he’ll get back up and keep protecting this place he loves so much.

Barbara Gordon is New York in a Morning In America way. God, she’s busy, she’s always busy, but it’s where she’s happiest. Being a cop, a librarian, a professional Guy In The Chair™️ for an entire family of vigilantes, shit gets crazy. But she’s got it covered. She always does.

Jason Todd is New York in a HEROES way. He grew up in the Narrows and Crime Alley. Superman who? How about Roman Sionis, who let people sit in his club during the daytime in the winter when the streets got too cold? What about the older kids, who smoked weed that smelled like shit but taught him how to make money off of dumb rich white people? Those are Jason’s people. He’s an NY boy through and through.

Cassandra Cain is NY in a That’s My Girl way. Ever jumped off a building with the sound of pure feminism blasting into your brain, wind and the sheer energy of Gotham City whipping by, tearing at your hair and clothes? Cass has. She lives for it. The city is alive, and it sounds like this.

Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne is New York in an American Boy way. Clean-cut, city boy, businessman who always has places to be and people to see. Busy. Alive. If the livelihood of New York could be filtered into a personality, it would be Tim.

Stephanie Brown is NY in a Boo York, Boo York way. Maybe a hint childish, but hey, maybe that’s what the people of Gotham need. The whole vigilante gig has turned her from a critical pessimist to a die-hard optimist, and she feels sometimes that other people just need to feel the city more. It’s changed her. It’s freedom. Freedom to be a kid again.

Duke Thomas is NY in an Empire State of Mind way. Even after all these years, he still hasn’t quite gotten used to the majesty of such a big city. She’s real, and she’s alive. He sort of loves being a city kid.

Damian Wayne is New York in a Dancing In the Dark way. It just… makes his soul happy. After living in solitude for most of his childhood, coming to a city like Gotham was like nothing he’d even fathomed before. He’s never alone, if only in spirit. It’s healing. And while he won’t gush about it like some of his siblings, he does love his city.

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jinkoh · 6 months ago

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i wish you didn't want me anymore

ex-bf!sunwoo x gn!reader

tags: exes to ?, angst, they can't let go and it's not healthy, somewhat suggestive wc: 0.34k

Masterlist

It’d been months since you’d last talked and you’d finally started to feel okay. You didn’t miss him anymore. You didn’t think about him on the daily and you didn’t start crying when you did. You were finally a person again, whole without Sunwoo by your side.

And yet, one text from him and you were right back at the start.

happy birthday, little honey

As if you wanted to hear from him on your birthday; as if you wanted to hear from him at all after months of radio silence. As if he had any right to still call you that.

So why did you find yourself in his sheets again that night, lying to your friends to leave early from your own birthday party because you knew they wouldn’t approve and they were right. You were better off without him. But whenever you were ready to let go, he showed up again, barging into your life as if he’d never left. He didn’t fit in there anymore, but you couldn’t shut him out.

“What’s on your mind?” Sunwoo whispered into your ear, brushing a few strands of hair out of your forehead. He looked at you like you belonged to him, and the hickeys on your neck would argue that you did.

“You,” you replied and a small smile spread on his lips.

��Yeah?” He asked, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck, a gesture full of sweet soft intimacy that you shouldn’t be sharing anymore. “What about me?”

You stared at his bedroom ceiling. “I wish you didn’t want me anymore,” you admitted and as hard as it was to get the words out, as easy it was for him to brush them off.

“Don’t say that, little honey.” His lips left kisses on your skin, tracing the marks he’d left just a while ago. “You don’t mean it.”

His touch was so warm and familiar and even though you knew it was wrong you closed your eyes and gave in to the feeling. “Maybe not.”

Masterlist

#dont mind the pet name i was listening to a song and liked it lol #also kind of a songfic to emily burns - hello #sunwoo x reader #the boyz x reader #sunwoo x gn!reader #sunwoo fic #tbz fic #tbz x reader #kpop scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz fanfic #the boyz scenarios #tbz angst #tbz drabble #sunwoo drabble #tbz writing #kebbis.writing

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highladyluck · 9 months ago

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List five of your least-popular fics, as well as when/why you wrote them (tagged by @sixth-light)

Midnight Cabaret (WoT/WoT show, Rand/Ishy/Lanfear and/or LTT/Mierin/Elan) - This was for the 2023 WoT Secret Santa. The premise is kinda 'wouldn't it be fucked up if LTT was already haunting Rand just a little, especially in the World of Dreams?' Also: 'you could totally use the World of Dreams to do a musical episode, and I can prove it.'

Concerning the open Secretarial position in the Andoran Ter'angreal R&D Department (WoT, epistolary, Setalle Anan) - Ah, the first installment of the ATRDD universe! This started out as a joke about how I like writing cover letters, and how working with Elayne and the entire Andoran defense budget to make ter'angreal is my dream job. After I posted it I decided I could totally write at least two multi-chapter stories about Elayne and moral hazard. Spoiler alert: it has been 3 years and I have not done this, but I do have elaborate outlines.

Al'Thor by Asha'mouth (WoT, filk about Rand) - 2022 Wot Secret Santa gift, it's literally just filk of Smash Mouth's All Star but I refined the scansion to within a millimeter of its life. This thing is POLISHED. I had the title in my ideas file for years, and when I got a giftee who I knew liked my filk I had the perfect excuse to actually work on it.

Polar Research (WoT, Aviendha/Elayne) - This was a vignette prompt on tumblr around the end of 2022 from @primeideal: Aviendha at the polar research station. I loved having an excuse to write more in the ATRDD universe and show Aviendha using her Talent of identifying ter'angreal. Also I will never ever miss the opportunity to point out that Shai'tan's workshop is at the North Pole.

A Clothes Encounter (WoT/Les Mis musicalverse, Enjolras and Beslan) - Just checked the original publication date for this crossover on FF.net and it was October 2005! It was in response to an offhand livejournal comment about Enjolras/Beslan. It ended up more E/R but it does provide an origin story for musical!Enjolras's distinctive vest.

Tagging whoever wants to do it! Show us your back catalogue!

#wheel of time #wot fic #tag game #nothing really surprising here except maybe the Avi/Elayne one #songfic of any kind & crossovers are less popular #and very few people want to read fictional cover letters for some reason #sucks for them they're missing out

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jorzed · 7 months ago

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Charpim songfic send post

#somebody please write this #im begging #🙏#smiling friends #smiling friends pim #smiling friends charlie #charpim #charlie x pim #songfic #writing prompt #ig #Pims song btw only right way🙏#imean comeone man it even kinds sounds like him😭#PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TAG ME IF YOU ACTUALLY WRITE THIS PLEASE #Spotify

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solar-wing · 8 months ago

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I have only done one song fic in my entire life, and it traumatized me beyond so many words, that I swore off that entire genre of fanfiction for a thousand generations.

I can't even read it without my body feeling like it's going through a time-warp portal (I literally will scroll/skip past the entire thing even if I'm missing a bunch of critical context)

so how in the world is it plausible that my entire theme revolves around the literal fucking sun and you expect me to NOT want to dedicate a song from Eternal fucking Sunshine to a whole ass fic...

HOOOWWWWW?!?!?!#$%$%?>?$?>$?.!!?!?!?

ms. ponytail, i love you girl. but count your whistle tones...

#eternal sunshine #ariana grande #ms ponytail #songfic #x reader #x male reader #the album fire as hell #so now she must be punished for her crimes against humanity #cause if i write this songfic #the world will end in literal eternal fucking sunshine #and I do mean the fiery kind

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collecting-stories · 7 months ago

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hey sorry this is super random but i remember reading on of your jj maybank fics where the reader and jj were married and had like a son and another baby on the way and they were having the pogues over for dinner and it was mainly about Kie wishing it was her with jj??? anyhow I’ve been looking for that fic everywhere and I can’t find it. so i was wondering like did it get deleted? or am i missing something?

Hey! I know exactly which one you're talking about, I didn't delete it but I don't think I ever put it on my OBX masterlist. It was buried over on my Taylor Swift masterlist.

Right Where You Left Me <- here it is!!

#I think there's some kind of part two in my WIPS that was devastating #cause I realized I used the name Ronan for the kid and I was gonna do a songfic to that song

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flamingmanticore · 1 year ago

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Official summary: After Lydia ditched Beetlejuice for the Maitlands and the handbook, he had some choice words about their “friendship”

Hey so I’m quite new to the tumblr community but I just wanted to come on here and say that I made a Beetlejuice songfic if anyone wanted to check it out! It take place in the musical-verse just so you know! I linked it but if it doesn’t work you can find it on ao3 and my username is FlamingManticore987 :)

It’s basically a songfic based on the Disney song Waiting in the Wings. I thought it matched Beetlejuice’s character really well!

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice the musical #fanfic #songfic #its based on a Disney song #its also kind of long #like 1700 words long #its my first work in the fandom #i hope you like it

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cebwrites · 2 years ago

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A little on the cliche cheesy end but if it would be okay to ask, could I ask for DonQuixote Corazon being sung to by a male s/o?

I've been listening to Golden hour non stop- it's a bit fem oriented but my mind ignores it- if you're not ok with that- thank you for still dedicating me this time :)

All your stories are fun reads 🤭

aww I'm glad you like my fics! even if ya boi’s been going through a bit of a dry spell lately (・・;;

hehe cheese is the name of the game here, i don’t mind cliche fluff at all! i tried to incorporate more of the song but it’s a little short because of the fem elements, i hope you enjoy either way ;w;/

he's got glitter for skin, my radiant beam

masc reader word count: 0.2k

For the love of my life He's got glow on his face

Rosinante always thought his devil fruit to be handy despite the drawbacks - who else could get a world class undisturbed night of sleep like he could? Though there were times he didn’t mind letting the calm curtain down once in a while, especially on mornings like these.

A glorious look in his eyes My angel of light

Mornings where your voice trailed in from the kitchen like the delicious wafts of breakfast entangled with it, rousing his senses to the land of the living. You’d heard the typical stumble, crash, and groan, throwing concern over your shoulder down the hallway until Rosi uttered a disgruntled noise to let you know that he was fine, or you’d see your clumsy lover duck into the kitchen with a new comical bump on his head, seeking your warmth and morning kisses.

He’d be confined to pout at the dining table, at least as long as there was an open flame in the vicinity, but so long as your wonderous voice filled the air, his head, and heart, Rosi supposed he could manage.

I was all alone with the love of my life

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rouxthewriter · 2 years ago

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Hound Dog

Pairing: Tom Riddle/Reader

Word Count: 1,039

Warnings: reader is a BAMF

Summary: You're a famous actress who's used to dealing with the entitled attitudes of Hollywood's elite. But when you meet Tom Riddle, you find yourself facing a different kind of challenge.

You were at a celebrity event, surrounded by the usual crowd of self-absorbed assholes. You weren't particularly interested in being there, but it was part of the job. As a famous actress, you had to attend these kinds of events and pretend to enjoy yourself. That’s what your publicist told you, at least. It felt like that man was trying to suck the life out of you sometimes

The room was dimly lit, with warm yellow lights casting a soft glow across the walls. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and alcohol, a mixture of cigars and whiskey permeating the space. The walls were lined with plush red velvet curtains, which added to the sense of opulence and grandeur. In the center of the room, a large circular bar dominated the space, with polished chrome fittings and shelves lined with bottles of all shapes and sizes. The bartender was a tall, wiry man with slicked-back hair and a pencil-thin mustache, who expertly mixed drinks and served them up with a flourish.

The room was filled with people, all dressed in their finest attire, sipping cocktails and chatting animatedly. The sound of chatter and laughter blended together, creating a low hum of noise that filled the air.

The seating areas were arranged in intimate clusters, with plush armchairs and couches arranged around small tables. The upholstery was a rich deep red, adding to the sense of luxury and comfort. The tables were littered with empty glasses and half-finished drinks, and the sound of ice clinking against glass added to the overall ambiance.

You were sitting at the bar, a perfect place to be alone when all the tables are taken by people you could never take home to your mother.

But you didn’t want to be alone.

You were scanning the room, searching for someone to talk to, when you caught sight of Tom Riddle. He was standing near the bar, talking to a group of people, but his eyes were locked on you. He was handsome, that was for sure, but you'd heard about his reputation as a womanizer. You weren't interested in dealing with that kind of drama.

But before you could turn away, he started making his way over to you. "Hey there," he said, flashing you a charming smile. "I don't think we've met before."

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "I'm sure there's a reason for that."

He chuckled. "Well, I'm Tom. And you are?"

"Someone who's not interested," you replied coolly.

He didn't seem to be deterred by your attitude. "Come on, don't be like that. I'm just trying to get to know you."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not interested in getting to know you."

Tom seemed to be taken aback by your bluntness, but he didn't give up. "Why not? I'm a pretty interesting guy."

You looked him up and down, taking in his cocky grin and confident stance. "I don't know, maybe it's the hound dog look you've got going on. You're not exactly my type."

He laughed. "Oh, I get it. You're playing hard to get. Well, I like a challenge."

You scoffed. "I'm not playing anything. I'm just not interested. And I'm definitely not interested in being your 'challenge'."

Tom's grin faltered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. "Well, that's too bad. You're missing out on a good time."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm sure I am."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot on your ear. "You know, I bet you'd change your mind if you saw what I can do."

You pulled away, disgusted. "I don't want to see what you can do. I'm not interested in anything you have to offer."

Tom's face twisted into a sneer. "Fine. Whatever. You're not that hot anyway."

You couldn't help but laugh at his childish behavior. "Is that supposed to bother me? I don't care what you think."

But as Tom walked away, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. Who did he think he was, acting like he was God's gift to women? You were a successful actress, and you didn't need some arrogant asshole like him trying to impress you.

But as the night wore on, you found yourself unable to shake the memory of Tom's smug grin. You kept catching glimpses of him across the room, chatting up other women and basking in their adoration.

You knew you should just forget about him and move on, but something about his arrogance was driving you crazy. So when he made his way over to you again, you decided to give him a piece of your mind.

"I'm done with this game," you said, standing up from your seat. "I don't have time for boys like you who think they can treat women like toys to be played with and discarded." You gave your card to the eavesdropping bartender, who reluctantly left the scene.

Tom looked up at you with a mix of surprise and annoyance. "What, are you too good for me now? You're just like every other girl in this town, thinking you're better than everyone else because you're famous."

You scoffed. "I'm not saying I'm better than anyone, but I do know my worth. And I won't settle for someone who can't treat me with respect."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Respect? Please. You're just like every other Hollywood diva, thinking you're entitled to everything just because you're famous. Well, let me tell you something, sweetheart, you're not that special.

You took a step closer to him, your eyes locked on his. "I may be a Hollywood actress, but that doesn't give you the right to treat me like garbage. And you know what? You're right, I'm not that special. But I deserve someone who treats me like I am."

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Tom sitting there with a scowl on his face. As you walked out of the club, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, he'd learned his lesson. But even if he hadn't, you knew you weren't going to waste any more of your time on a hound dog like him.

Being alone wasn’t so bad after all.

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