#you are tired of me and don’t love me anymore so why say it or be around

[harryssyndrome]

Hoax | h.s

summery: “don’t want no other shade blue but you. No other sadness in the world would do…”

based off this request. Thank you so much anon for this idea, this was so fun writing and I hope it’s something you were looking for. I tried to be as angsty as possible with a blend of cutesy sweet, hope it’s a perfect mix. Let me know in the comments? [thank you! mwah mwah mwah 💋]

Posted on: November 26th, 2024. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY OR TRANSLATE MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM. Like, comment & reblog are appreciated 💓Italics are past memories. Hope you lovelies enjoy this little big piece.

wc: 6.6k (oops🤭) || Masterlist 🤍

Tag-List: @fruity-harry @angeldavis777 @wheredidmyeyesgo @cherryloveshs | TAGLIST IS OPEN! || REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! 💌

The morning had started just like any other, the sun streaming in through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over everything, but YN barely noticed. She sat at the counter, her hands curled around a coffee mug, its warmth barely a match for the cold ache building inside her. The apartment felt empty, despite the soft hum of the city just outside the window. She could feel the weight of the silence pressing down on her, a silence that had grown more oppressive over the past few weeks.

Harry had been on tour for what seemed like forever now, and their communication had dwindled. What had once been late-night calls and stolen moments between sound checks had turned into rushed, distracted conversations, where he was either too busy or too tired to give her his full attention. YN had always known the demands of his career, had always been willing to share him with the world, but it was starting to feel like he was slipping further away from her.

She had tried to be understanding, tried to remind herself that this was just a phase—that he was only gone for a while, and they would find their way back to each other. But today felt different. Something in the air was charged with tension, a sense of dread that hung around her like a cloud. Harry had promised to call her during his break between rehearsals, and as the minutes ticked by, that sense of unease only grew. She hadn’t heard from him, not even a text to explain why.

When the phone finally rang, she grabbed it with an anxious breath, hoping for the reassurance she so desperately needed.

“Hey, babe,” Harry’s voice crackled through the phone, distant and strained. There was a tiredness in his voice that made her heart ache even more.

“Hi,” she replied softly, trying to keep her tone light, but the worry slipped out anyway. “I was starting to wonder if you forgot about me.”

Harry didn’t immediately answer, and YN could feel him shifting on the other end, perhaps looking for the right words, or maybe just gathering the energy to engage with her. “I didn’t forget,” he said after a beat, his voice uncharacteristically flat. “It’s just… things are hectic right now. You know how it is.”

YN frowned, her fingers tightening around her mug. She knew how it was. She knew that Harry’s tour schedule was demanding, that he barely had time to breathe, let alone talk to her. But it was different now. It had been different for weeks, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“I get it, Harry,” she said softly, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. “But it feels like we haven’t really talked in days. I feel like I’m losing you.”

The words hung in the air between them, thick with unspoken emotions. She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to accuse him of pulling away, but she couldn’t ignore what was happening anymore. She missed him. She missed the way they used to connect, how they’d stay up all night talking about their dreams and fears, how they’d laugh until their stomachs ached. Now, it felt like all they did was talk about logistics and time zones. She wanted more than that.

Harry let out a heavy sigh, and for a moment, she thought he was going to apologize, that he would offer the comfort she so desperately needed. But instead, his voice grew colder, his words sharper. “You miss me? Maybe you miss the version of me that you had before all of this. But I’m not the same person anymore, YNN. I’m just tired. Tired of feeling like I’m constantly being pulled in a million directions.”

Her heart sank at his words, the finality in them hitting her harder than she had expected. “What does that mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s words came out in a rush, almost like he couldn’t stop them, as if they were coming from a place deeper than he intended. “It means that I don’t have the energy for this right now. I don’t have the energy to keep pretending that everything is fine when it’s not. And maybe I’m just tired of pretending that you’re not asking for more than I can give. Maybe I need space. Maybe we both need space.”

The words stabbed her. She felt them deep in her chest, each one like a dagger, twisting further with every breath. “Space?” she echoed, barely able to form the word, the hurt creeping into her voice despite her best efforts to hold it back. “I’m not asking for space, Harry. I’m just asking for you. For the person you promised me you’d always be.”

Harry didn’t respond right away, and when he did, his voice was tight, defensive. “Maybe that person isn’t here anymore, YNN. Maybe that’s what I’m trying to say.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. YN could hear the faint rustling of something on his end of the phone, the noise of people moving in the background, but it didn’t matter. The emptiness between them felt so loud, so unbearable. The connection that once held them together was fraying, thread by thread.

She swallowed hard, the tears welling in her eyes. “Fine,” she said, her voice breaking as she spoke. “If that’s how you feel, then I guess I’ll leave.”

The words came out before she could stop them, and she immediately regretted them. But the damage was done. The silence that followed was deafening, and the weight of Harry’s absence felt so heavy, so crushing, that she could barely breathe. The person she loved, the person she had given everything to, had just told her he was done. He was tired of her.

Before she could say another word, she ended the call. The click of the phone disconnecting felt like the final nail in the coffin, sealing whatever it was that they had left.

YN sat there for a long moment, staring at the phone in her hand as if it were some foreign object. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her mind was numb, her thoughts tangled in confusion and hurt. The apartment, their shared space, felt so small now. It felt suffocating. Every corner of the place was a reminder of everything that had once been good, everything that was now falling apart.

Tears blurred her vision as she stood up from the counter. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know where to go. But she couldn’t stay there. Not with him, not with the words he had just said. The love they had built felt like ashes, and she couldn’t breathe in the smoke any longer.

She started packing her things, her movements automatic, like she was on autopilot. Her hands shook as she threw clothes into a bag, not caring if they matched or if they were folded neatly. Nothing mattered in that moment except the urgent need to get away from the place that had once been home. She ignored the phone buzzing with messages, messages from Harry, apologizing, pleading with her to call him back. She couldn’t. Not yet. Not after the things he had said.

When she finished packing, she grabbed her bags and walked out the door. The apartment felt even emptier as she closed the door behind her. There were no more goodbyes, no more promises. Just the echo of his hurtful words ringing in her ears.

YN drove to her parents’ house in a daze, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened, about how quickly their love had unraveled. She needed space to think. To breathe. To figure out how to move on from this. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t that simple.

It wasn’t just a fight. It was something deeper. Something that couldn’t be fixed with apologies.

When she pulled into the driveway, she didn’t feel the relief she thought she would. Instead, the silence that had followed her from their apartment seemed to follow her here. Even the familiar sight of her childhood home didn’t offer the comfort it once had. It all felt distant. Empty. Just like her heart.

She stepped out of the car, closing the door behind her with a soft click. As she walked up to the front door, her phone buzzed again. She ignored it. She couldn’t bear to look at it. She couldn’t bear to see his name flashing on the screen. The man she loved had just shattered her heart into a million pieces, and she didn’t know how to pick them up.

The night had been a blur for Harry. The anger, the disappointment, the gnawing guilt in his chest from the argument with YN—it was all too much to bear. In the solitude of his hotel room, far from her, he drowned out the pain with alcohol. He knew he had messed up, knew he had hurt her with his words, but the overwhelming pressure of being on tour, the constant demand of being a public figure, and the exhaustion had driven him to the brink. He had never intended for it to escalate the way it did, but in his drunken haze, it all came crashing down.

Somewhere between the blurry shots and the endless stream of drinks, he found himself in a bar, surrounded by strangers, feeling more alone than he had in a long time. His phone was buzzing on the table, the screen lighting up with YN’s name flashing, but he didn’t pick it up. The coldness in his heart had become too unbearable, and he pushed her away instead of confronting the hurt he had caused. He just wanted the world to stop spinning for a moment. He wanted to forget everything that had gone wrong.

And that was when Emily Ratajkowski had walked in.

They had known each other for years, casually friendly in the way celebrities often are when their circles overlap. Emily, ever the charmer, had greeted Harry with a friendly smile. They sat and talked, their conversation casual at first, just the usual small talk about work and life. But Harry, caught in his haze of regret, had let his guard down. The more they talked, the more the words flowed. In some strange way, it felt easy to talk to her—like she was a stranger he could confide in, someone who didn’t carry the same weight of their past, the years of intimacy and history he shared with YN.

It didn’t take long before the alcohol took its toll. Emily’s laughter had filled the air, and Harry had found himself leaning closer, her presence soothing in a way that made him forget the ache in his chest. Before he knew it, they were kissing. His mind screamed for him to stop, to think about YN, to remember everything he stood to lose. But in that moment, he didn’t. The guilt had been smothered by the fleeting comfort of the kiss, the escape from his spiraling thoughts.

He didn’t remember much after that. The night blurred into incoherence, a jumble of laughter, flashes, and fleeting touches. Harry woke up the next morning, disoriented and groggy, the light filtering through the hotel room window far too bright. His phone was buzzing incessantly, and his stomach churned when he saw the series of missed calls and messages from YN. The weight of it all hit him like a wave, and for a moment, he just sat there, trying to piece together the fragments of his memories.

Then, his phone lit up with an alert—a notification from a gossip website, and his heart dropped into his stomach. There, in front of him, were pictures of him and Emily Ratajkowski, the kind of photos Harry had spent years avoiding. They were kissing, their lips pressed together, captured in a moment of reckless abandon that Harry didn’t even fully remember. The headline was cruel: Harry Styles and Emily Ratajkowski—A New Romance in the Making?

His throat tightened as he scrolled through the photos, his mind racing. He didn’t remember kissing her. He didn’t remember anything about that night except the overwhelming sense of regret that now gripped him. He had ruined everything. The fragile thread holding him together seemed to snap in that moment. He had lost YN, and now the media would make sure the world knew it. His personal life was on full display, and all he could think about was how much he had fucked it all up.

Desperation began to rise in his chest, and without thinking, he began sending text after text to YN, each one filled with apologies, regret, and pleas for her to talk to him. But she didn’t answer. The silence on the other end was deafening.

Meanwhile, YN was in her parents’ house, sitting in the living room with the muted glow of the television casting long shadows across the room. The house, once a place of comfort and warmth, now felt suffocating. Her mother had been quiet ever since YN arrived, sensing the heavy tension in the air. She tried to comfort her daughter, offering tea, but YN couldn’t bring herself to care. The weight of the argument, of the harsh words Harry had said, sat heavily in her chest, gnawing at her.

But when the photos surfaced—when she saw Harry with Emily, their lips locked, the headlines flashing across her phone—her world shattered all over again. The room spun around her, and she felt like she was suffocating. The love she had poured into her relationship with Harry now felt like a cruel joke. She had trusted him. She had believed in him. And now this—this betrayal was too much to bear.

Tears blurred her vision, and she quickly turned away from her phone. Her mother noticed the change in her expression and asked softly, “YN, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I can’t do this,” YN whispered, choking on her tears. “I can’t keep doing this. I thought he loved me… but now… now I don’t know who he is anymore. It didn’t even take him a night to move on?”

Her mother hugged her tightly, murmuring comforting words, but YN couldn’t hear them. The pain of what she had seen—the public humiliation of it all—felt like a physical weight on her chest. She needed to get away. She needed to clear her head.

“I’m going for a walk,” she said, her voice distant, as if she were speaking to herself rather than her mother.

Her mother nodded, understanding the need for space, and watched as YN stepped outside, the cool evening air wrapping around her like a blanket.

The lake stretched out before her, calm and unbothered by the storm raging inside her. Its surface shimmered faintly under the overcast sky, the golden light of the fading afternoon barely breaking through the thick clouds. The familiar sight of it— the way the trees reflected on the water, the distant sound of birds, the rhythmic lapping of waves against the shore-should have brought YN the comfort she was seeking. But all it did was make her chest tighten with a suffocating ache.

She had always come to this place for solace, even as a child. The lake by her parents' house was her sanctuary, a space where the noise of the world couldn't touch her. But now, as she stood there, arms wrapped tightly around herself against the crisp autumn air, the silence was deafening. It wasn't peace she found here today. It was the echo of memories she had desperately tried to bury since she walked out of the home she had once shared with Harry.

Her boots crunched softly against the earth as she made her way closer to the water's edge, the damp grass soaking the hem of her dress. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faintest scent of pine and earth. But YN didn't notice. Her mind was far away, replaying a reel of memories she wished she could turn off. No matter how much she tried to focus on the present, her past with Harry came rushing back to her, vivid and bittersweet.

She crouched down near the shore, her fingertips brushing against the cool surface of the water. As ripples spread outward, her thoughts drifted to another time, another version of herself-a happier one. She closed her eyes, and it all came rushing back as if she were still there.

It had been a summer evening, the sun setting in brilliant hues of orange and pink.

Harry had been sitting on the dock, legs stretched out, his feet just barely skimming the water. YN had been lying beside him, her head resting on his thigh as they shared a bottle of wine they had stolen from her parents' pantry. The lake had been their escape that summer, a place where the chaos of Harry's career and the pressures of the world seemed to melt away.

"This place is magic," Harry had murmured, running his fingers absentmindedly through her hair. His voice had been low, almost reverent, as he looked out at the water.

YN had tilted her head to glance up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. "You always say that," she teased. "But you're not wrong."

He grinned, his dimple deepening as he looked down at her. "It's true, though. Don't you feel it? It's like... time stops here. Like nothing bad can touch us."

She had laughed softly, the sound blending with the gentle rustle of the trees.

"That's what l've always loved about this place. It's quiet. Peaceful. Away from everything."

Harry had hummed in agreement, his gaze softening as he studied her. "One day, YNN... one day l'd love to settle down somewhere like this. Away from the noise. Just us."

Her breath had caught at his words, her heart skipping a beat. "Just us?" she'd asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Well," he'd added, his lips twitching into a playful smile, "maybe not just us. I'm thinking a couple of little ones running around, maybe a dog... or two."

YN's heart skipped at his words, her stomach flipping in that way it always did when he hinted at their future. She laughed, nudging him playfully. "Little ones, huh? You planning on starting a family with me already, Styles?"

Harry grinned, his dimple showing as he leaned closer, the teasing glint in his eyes softening into something deeper. "Why not? I mean it, YNN. I'd love that. A house by the lake. Waking up every morning with you by my side. Teaching our kids how to fish or swim or whatever it is people do out here. It sounds perfect."

Her breath caught as she looked at him, the sincerity in his words tugging at something deep within her. "It does," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It sounds perfect."

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "You're perfect," he murmured, and before she could respond, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.

The world had faded away then, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in a bubble of love and possibility.

“I wouldn’t want anything less than forever when it comes to you.”

His words had settled into her heart like a warm glow, and she had leaned in to kiss him, the taste of wine still lingering on his lips. In that moment, with the sun setting and the world quiet around them, she had believed him. She had believed in forever.

YN blinked, the memory dissolving as the present came crashing back. The lake was still, the air cold, and Harry wasn't there. Her chest ached as she stared at the dock, the image of them sitting there overlaying the reality of its emptiness. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his hand in hers, but it was all in her mind.

The betrayal burned anew, the image of him with Emily flashing behind her eyes.

How could he have said those things, painted that picture of their future, and then so carelessly let it all fall apart? How could he kiss someone else after everything they had shared?

How had they gone from that to this? How had the man who once promised her forever ended up kissing someone else? The image of Harry and Emily flashed in her mind again, sharper this time, and her stomach twisted. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, trying to hold together the pieces of her heart that felt like they were falling apart.

The lake, once her sanctuary, now felt like a cruel reminder of everything she had lost. The life she had envisioned with Harry-the house by the lake, the little ones running around, the forever they had dreamed of-felt like a distant, unattainable dream. And yet, no matter how much she wanted to hate him, to shut him out completely, her heart wouldn't let her. She still loved him, even now, even after everything.

YN sank down onto the grass, her knees pulled to her chest, tears streaming freely now. She thought of the countless nights they had spent talking about their dreams, their plans. The way Harry had once made her feel so safe, so sure of their love. And now, it all felt like a cruel joke, a dream turned nightmare.

"Why, Harry?" she whispered into the stillness. "Why did you have to ruin everything?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the sun dipped lower on the horizon.

She let herself cry then, the sobs wracking her body as she finally allowed herself to feel the full weight of her heartbreak. The lake bore silent witness to her pain, its surface rippling gently as if trying to offer her some semblance of comfort.

The lake, once her sanctuary, now felt like a graveyard for their love.

When she returned to the house, her heart felt heavy, each step laden with the weight of everything she was feeling. But it wasn't the emptiness of the house that grabbed her attention; it was the faint sound-the small, deliberate taps against the window. At first, she thought it was the rain playing tricks on her, the gentle taps against the glass. But when she heard it again-sharp and insistent-her breath caught in her throat.

Her mind didn't even have time to process it fully. She spun toward the window, her heart pounding in her chest. And there he was.

Harry.

He stood in the pouring rain, his face pale, his hair clinging to his skin. His clothes were soaked through, and his hands trembled slightly as he threw small pebbles at the window, as if trying to wake her from a nightmare she couldn't escape. She stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. Was this real? Was this the same man who had hurt her so badly?

But then, she saw it in his eyes-the desperation. The raw vulnerability. The silent plea for forgiveness that spoke louder than words ever could. He was standing there, drenched, with nothing left to lose. He was a broken man, and in that moment, she could see that he knew he had ruined everything.

Before she could stop herself, she ran to the down to the front door, threw it open, and without thinking, rushed outside into the rain.

The rain fell in torrents, its relentless downpour drowning out all sound except for the beat of water against the ground. Harry stood before YN, drenched, his eyes wide with desperate urgency, a look of raw pain etched into every line of his face. His clothes clung to his body, soaked through, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil inside of him.

“YN…” His voice broke, as if the weight of her name was too much to bear. His hand reached out shakily, desperate to bridge the gap between them, but she pulled away slightly. He flinched, not from her rejection, but from the weight of his own guilt that seemed to pull him lower with every passing second.

“I—” He took a breath, trying to steady himself, but his words tumbled out in a frantic rush. “I never meant for it to be this way. I never meant to hurt you, YNN. I swear, I never thought—God, I was so drunk, so damn stupid. I don’t even remember what happened, but I know I messed up. I know I messed everything up.”

YN’s heart clenched painfully in her chest. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt her, how much his words still stung like a constant ache in her soul. But instead, she stood there, her breath coming in ragged bursts, staring at him as he trembled in the rain. She wasn’t sure whether it was the cold of the storm or the pain inside him that made him shudder, but it was impossible to ignore the depth of his regret.

“You do remember, Harry,” she finally spoke, her voice shaking but strong. “You remember everything, even if you don’t remember that moment. You remember the things you said to me. You remember how you treated me. How you—” She stopped herself, not wanting to continue with the painful words. But the memory of his cutting tone, his dismissive words, echoed in her mind, taunting her, making her question everything they had ever shared. “I trusted you. I loved you. And you—you broke me.”

Harry’s eyes welled with unshed tears as he took a step toward her, this time not caring if she pulled away. He was beyond caring about the rain, beyond caring about anything except for the woman standing before him, the one person who had always been his everything.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, and she could see the raw vulnerability in his eyes. “I know I broke you. And that’s the worst part of it. I never wanted to hurt you. Not in a million years. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, YNN. You’re it for me, you always have been.” He reached for her again, but this time she didn’t pull away. His fingers brushed against hers, a tentative touch, as if he were afraid she might vanish the moment he let go.

“But I let my stupid insecurities, my stupid mistakes, cloud everything,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I’ve never been more scared of losing someone than I am of losing you, and I couldn’t see that until now. I couldn’t see that you are the one I need. That it’s not the fame, it’s not the tour, it’s not anyone or anything else—it’s you, YN. You’re the only thing that matters.”

The words hung in the air like fragile threads, each one trembling with a rawness that made Ashley’s heart ache in ways she didn’t think possible. The anger, the hurt—it was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but now there was something else too: hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t all lost.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. She wanted to push him away, wanted to shout at him for what he had done, but when she looked at him—really looked at him—there was something so devastatingly human about him, standing there, shaking in the rain. He was broken, but there was sincerity in his apology, a plea that reached her heart in ways his words never had before.

“You don’t even understand what you’ve done to me, Harry,” she said, her voice quivering as she took a step back. “You think it’s just about what happened with her, with Emily? It’s not. It’s about everything that led up to that moment. It’s about the words you said to me, the way you dismissed everything we had, everything I gave you. It’s about how you made me feel like I wasn’t enough.”

Harry closed his eyes, a silent tear slipping down his cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, YNN. I never wanted you to feel like you weren’t enough. You’re everything to me. I’ve been an idiot, and I know I’ve hurt you, but please… don’t let this be the end for us. I can’t lose you. I just can’t… live without you. I can’t.”

The storm raged around them, but the silence between them felt deafening, thick with the weight of everything unsaid, everything unresolved. YN could feel the anger still bubbling inside her, but she also felt the pull of something deeper—the love she had for him, the love that she had thought was gone, but now seemed to flicker in her chest like a fragile flame.

She wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the hurt, but something inside her was giving way.

“Harry, I…” Her voice faltered, the words catching in her throat as her chest tightened painfully. “I don’t know if I can forgive you right now. I need time. I need space to figure this out.” She shook her head, unable to meet his eyes as the tears finally spilled over, mingling with the rain. “I don’t know if I can go back to who we were. You hurt me too much.”

He stepped forward again, his hand reaching for her, trembling with the force of his desperation. “Please, YN. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you all the space you need. I’ll be patient, I swear. I’ll wait as long as it takes. But don’t walk away from me. Please.”

She didn’t respond immediately. The storm had drowned out every thought, every hesitation in her mind, but there was still one thing she knew for certain: she couldn’t let him go. Not yet. She wasn’t ready. Not when her heart was still so tangled up in him, so unable to let go of the person he had once been to her.

“I need time,” she repeated softly, her voice barely audible against the pounding rain. “I need to think, Harry. Please, just… just go inside. I can’t—” She couldn’t finish the sentence, not without breaking apart completely.

Harry nodded, his face a picture of heartbreaking understanding. His heart was in pieces, but he was willing to wait, willing to do whatever it took to prove that he could make things right. Without another word, he turned toward the house, slowly, unwilling to leave her in the storm but knowing that he had to respect her need for space.

YN watched him go, her heart heavy in her chest, torn between love and hurt, between forgiveness and anger. The rain continued to pour, and as she stood there, feeling the cold seep into her bones, she wondered if they would ever find their way back to each other—or if this was the beginning of the end.

The night had felt like an eternity. Each minute stretched on, filled with haunting thoughts and the pounding rhythm of YNs heart. Her mind was tangled in knots, the anger still burning bright, but beneath it all, there was an undercurrent of something she couldn’t deny: the love she still had for Harry. It was the kind of love that had once felt so pure, so easy, but now felt fractured, jagged, like trying to hold onto a shattered glass piece that was bleeding into her heart.

She hadn’t been able to sleep. The past few days, the pain, the betrayal, the anger—it all swirled together in a mess that made her restless. Harry’s words from the night before—the desperate, raw apology—replayed over and over again in her mind, like a broken record. And yet, each time she thought of it, the hurt crept back in. She had tried to push it away, tried to convince herself that she could ignore it, but the reality was that she couldn’t. Not when the memories of their love, of their happy moments, still clung to her like the scent of his cologne.

But it wasn’t just the hurt she was feeling. There was something else, something deeper, something that felt too real to ignore. She couldn’t escape the way her heart still responded to Harry, no matter how hard she tried.

As the morning light began to filter through the windows, YN could no longer stay in the silence of her room. She had to see him. She had to confront everything that had happened and, maybe—just maybe—find a way to heal. But even as the desire to see him grew stronger, there was still that gnawing uncertainty. Could she really trust him again? Could she really forgive him for what had happened?

The house was quiet as she made her way down the stairs, the soft creak of the wooden steps echoing in the otherwise still air. The soft hum of the morning felt foreign against the heaviness that weighed on her shoulders, but she ignored it, pushing forward. When she stepped outside, the cold hit her like a rush, but it was nothing compared to the chill in her heart.

The lake was quiet, still as glass, the air thick with the faint scent of damp earth and fresh water. And there, sitting on the grass at the edge of the lake, was Harry. His posture was slumped, his shoulders drooped, as though the weight of the world was resting on him. The sight of him in this state, so broken and vulnerable, pulled at her heart in ways she couldn’t explain.

He looked so small, so lost.

For a moment, YN stood there, watching him. She wasn’t sure what to do, what to say. But as she watched him, she realized that she couldn’t stay away. Not anymore. She had to speak. She had to let him know how much he had hurt her, but also how much she still cared, despite everything.

Her footsteps were quiet on the soft earth as she made her way toward him. Harry didn’t look up immediately, but she could see the slight twitch of his head as if he felt her presence. His face was blank, his eyes staring out at the water, but there was something in the way he held himself that spoke volumes.

YN stopped just a few feet away, standing still as the silence stretched between them. For what felt like an eternity, neither of them spoke. The tension was thick, palpable, like a heavy fog.

Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore. The silence, the uncertainty. She had to break it.

“I don’t even know where to start, Harry,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to protect herself from the rawness of the moment. “You hurt me. You really hurt me. And I don’t know if I can ever forget what you said to me. What you did to us.”

Harry flinched, as if each word she spoke cut through him. He finally lifted his head, his red-rimmed eyes meeting hers. There was guilt in those eyes, raw and undeniable. His voice came out barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry, YNN. I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to explain how much I regret everything. I was angry, and I was drunk, and I didn’t—” He cut himself off, his hands shaking as he clenched them into fists at his sides. “I never meant to hurt you. Not like that. You’re everything to me, YNN. You always have been.”

YN took a deep breath, her chest tight with the conflicting emotions. She wanted to stay angry, to protect herself from the pain he’d caused, but she couldn’t deny that his words, his remorse, were hitting something deep inside her. It wasn’t enough to erase the hurt, but it was a start. She looked at him, really looked at him, and saw how broken he was. He was a man who had made a mistake, but he was also a man who still cared for her.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to live in the hurt and the anger. I want to move past this, but I need to know that you’ll never do this again. I need to know that you’re willing to fight for us.”

Harry’s eyes welled up, the emotion overwhelming him. He reached out then, taking her hand gently, almost like he was afraid she might pull away. “I swear to you, YNN. I’ll fight for us. I’ll fight for you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. I’ll spend every single day proving to you that you’re worth more than anything, more than the stupid mistakes I’ve made. You mean everything to me.”

YN’s breath caught in her throat. It was impossible to ignore the depth of his words, the rawness in his voice. But it wasn’t just the words that got to her; it was the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability that he rarely showed anyone, let alone her.

She stepped closer to him, her heart pounding as she tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. She had been so angry, so broken, but looking at him now, she realized that she couldn’t just walk away.

“I want to believe you, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I really do. But I need time. I need time to heal, to trust you again.”

Harry’s face softened, relief flooding through him. “I understand. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here, every step of the way. I’ll prove to you that I’m worth it. That we’re worth it.”

And in that moment, everything felt a little bit clearer. The storm inside her had not fully subsided, but the clouds were beginning to part, and the sun was starting to peek through. She stepped closer, closing the distance between them, and in one slow, careful motion, she placed her hand on his chest. The steady beat of his heart under her palm was a reminder of how much he still cared.

“I’m willing to try,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m willing to try if you promise me that you’ll never let me go again.”

Harry’s eyes shone with tears, and he pulled her into his arms, his hands cupping her face gently as he kissed her forehead, his lips brushing softly over her skin. “I promise you, YNN. I’ll never let you go. You’re my everything. I love you.”

YN closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. She hadn’t been sure if she could forgive him, if she could ever move past the hurt. But standing here in his arms, feeling his heart beat against hers, she realized that love wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t always simple. But it was worth fighting for.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with emotion.

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world around them felt a little less heavy, a little less uncertain. The future was still unclear, but for the first time in a long time, they both had hope.

They’ll be alright.

[moraxine]

Fragments of Us [Ekko]

pairing: ekko x reader

words: 2k

summary: ekko wakes up in an alternate universe where you’re alive and everything feels right—but it’s not his world. torn between love and duty, he must leave to save his reality.

ARCANE SPOILERS!

i.

“Powder. Ugh, she’s so annoying sometimes. I told her that the graffiti on Sevika’s stupid bar wasn’t even that good—like, come on, who even uses pink for a skull?—and she just flipped out ! Called me a ‘wannabe artist.’ Like, okay?”

Ekko’s chest burns as he violently jolts awake, aware , coughing as if he’s been drowning moments before. His head is pounding, all memories flooding his mind and spinning round and round. It takes a few moments for his vision to stabilise and start clearing up.

What the hell happened?

“Hey, are you okay?”

Hearing your voice, familiar yet a voice he never thought his ears would detect ever again, he freezes. His eyes snap open, adjusting to the dim glow of the neon streetlamp. After a while of simply blinking, right hand on his forehead, he dares to turn your way, only to face you in utter shock.

There you are, right beside him, nervously fiddling with a small gadget in your hand while waiting for his answer.

Ekko’s breath gets caught in his throat.

His gaze desperately darts around, taking in the distorted version of Zaun. The buildings look eerily familiar but cleaner, more polished. And then there is you —alive, bright-eyed, rambling as if nothing in the world could ever go wrong.

This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

“You’re staring at me like I’ve got two heads or something. All good in there?” You ask, leaning closer as you gently tap his head.

No, no, no.

This must be some kind of twisted joke, a dream soon to turn into a nightmare, like the ones he experienced after your passing.

A strong wave of dizziness takes over and he loses balance. You’re not fast enough to catch him and he collapses on the floor, tears gleaming in his eyes.

“Shit, Ekko, I told you I’m fine walking home by myself! You need to focus on fixing that sleep schedule of yours. You work too much….”

You kneel down to check on him but as soon as you reach for his arm, he manages to pull himself up, wincing as his muscles protest. “I’m fine,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. “Just… where am I?”

Your brow furrows. “Zaun, duh. Did you hit your head?”

Zaun. But not his Zaun. This is different. Cleaner. Sharper. Brighter. Wrong.

You wave a hand in front of his face when he’s up on his feet again, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Seriously, you’re acting super weird.”

He shakes his head, trying to gather himself. “I’m… just tired.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you say, leaning back on your heels. “Well, you can sleep at my place if you want. It’s a bit of a mess, but it’s better than the middle of the street.”

“Why…Why are you helping me?”

I didn’t protect you. I let you die-

You scoff, crossing your arms. “You have to be kidding me, really.”

He stares at you, his chest tightening. You are so casual, so warm, so alive. This isn’t his world—it is someone else’s. Someone’s whom was able to keep you safe and happy.

You wave a hand in front of his face. “Helloooo? You good, or do I need to drag you there myself?”

He blinks, shaking himself out of his trance. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“Finally,” you say grabbing his arm. “You’re lucky I’m such a good friend, y’know.”

As you lead him down the street, continuing your pointless rambling about Powder and some argument over graffiti, Ekko follows silently, his mind racing. He doesn’t belong here, but for the first time in years, being near you feels like he is home.

ii.

Ekko is standing in the corner of your cluttered workshop, his fingers trembling slightly as he tightens the final screws on a device he barely understands anymore. Weeks have been spent scavenging parts, tearing apart old tech, and sketching blueprints on scraps of paper. The machine is almost ready—his way out of this world is almost ready.

You, of course, don’t know. In fact, you seem to know nothing about Ekko lately. Ever since that incident outside the bar, he’s been acting strange in a way you can’t pinpoint.

“Hey, genius,” you call from across the room, pulling him out of his thoughts. You’re perched on a high stool, playing with a broken clock. “You’ve been staring at that thing for hours. What is it, anyway?”

He stiffens at your question, keeping his face carefully neutral. “Just… something to help me get around. It’s nothing.”

You narrow your eyes, unconvinced. “Since when do you get all secretive about your projects? You used to brag about your tech every chance you got.”

“Since now,” he mutters, avoiding your gaze.

It’s been this way for quite some time now—Ekko growing quieter, more distant, all while you try to bridge the gap with your usual chatter. You’ve noticed the way he avoids your eyes, the way he flinches whenever you stand too close. It’s not like him.

And it hurts.

“You’re acting weird, Ekko,” you admit, setting the clock down and leaning back on your hands. “Like, even weirder than usual. Did I do something?”

“No,” he says quickly, but his voice sounds strained, and the single word only makes you more assured that there is indeed something going on.

“Then what?” you press, leaning forward slightly. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. Is this about Powder? Because if so, she’s the one being difficult, not me.”

Ekko clenches his jaw, his hands tightening around the tool in his grip. He can’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand—not fully. How could he possibly explain that you’re not even supposed to be here? That this version of you isn’t his you? That in his world, you’re just a memory he carries like a scar?

“It’s nothing,” he says finally, his voice low. “Just… drop it, okay?”

You flinch at the coldness in his tone, but you force a laugh, trying to mask the sting. “Fine. Be mysterious, then. See if I care.”

Turning away, you pretend to focus on the clock again, but your heart isn’t in it. You want to push him, demand answers, but something in his expression stops you. There’s a pain in his eyes that you can’t quite place, and for the first time, you wonder if this is bigger than any conflict he might have had with people in the past.

Ekko exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging. He hates doing this—pushing you away. But if he lets you in, it’ll only make leaving harder.

Because he is leaving. As much as he wants to stay, to pretend this is his life, he knows it isn’t real. He doesn’t belong here. And the longer he stays, the harder it’ll be to say goodbye. Especially to you.

“Hey,” you say suddenly, breaking the silence. “For what it’s worth, you’re still my favorite nerd. Even if you’re being a jerk.”

He looks up at you, startled by the softness in your voice. For a moment, he wants to tell you everything—to explain why he can’t let himself get too close. To tell you he loves you. But that would be partially true as you’re not his. Instead, he just nods. “Thank you.”

You offer him a small yet warm smile and his resolve falters for a moment. But then his gaze falls on the machine again—his way out—and he reminds himself why he has to do this.

It’s almost done. Just a little longer.

iii.

Ekko stands in the middle of the workshop, his hand resting on the activation lever of the machine. The room hums faintly with power, the cobbled-together contraption sparking faintly as it waits for his final command. It’s ready. After days of work, this is it—it’s time to go back to the people who need him.

But his chest feels tight, and it’s not just from the lingering ache of exhaustion. It’s because of you.

The door creaks open, and his heart sinks. You’re standing there, your expression caught somewhere between confusion and anger. “What the hell is this?” you ask, stepping inside. “Ekko, what’s going on?”

He doesn’t look at you. He can’t. “It’s… nothing.”

“Nothing?” you snap, gesturing at the machine. “You’ve been shutting me out for God knows how long, and now I find you messing with… whatever this is you’ve made? Don’t lie to me, Ekko.”

He finally meets your eyes, and the raw emotion there almost makes him crumble. But he takes a deep breath and steadies himself. “I can’t explain it.”

You take a step closer, your frustration giving way to hurt. “Why? Why can’t you just tell me? I’m not mad—I just… I don’t understand why you’ve been acting like this.”

Ekko clenches his fists, his mind racing. He could tell you the truth—about the alternate universe, about the fact that you don’t even exist anymore in his world. But what good would it do?

“It’s better this way,” he replies quietly.

Your hands drop to your sides, and the look in your eyes nearly breaks him. “Better for who? For me? Or for you?”

“Y/n…” His voice cracks, but he quickly swallows it down. “I don’t belong here. I need to leave. That’s all I can say.”

You shake your head, your voice trembling. “You’re lying. You’ve been here all this fucking time, and now you’re just… leaving? Without a word?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do!” you shout, stepping closer until you’re right in front of him. “Whatever this is, whoever you think you are—you’re my… friend, Ekko. You don’t just get to disappear without telling me why.”

His hands tremble as he reaches up to touch your shoulder, his gaze locked on yours. “You are—” His voice breaks, and he has to force himself to keep going. “You’re amazing. You’re… everything good about this place. You’re the reason I’m still alive. But I can’t stay.”

You stare at him, your heart pounding. His words feel final, and the weight of them crushes you completely. You fail to understand. Nothing makes sense, absolutely nothing. “Why?” you whisper, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. “Why can’t you stay? Is it something I did?”

“No!” he says, more forcefully than he means to. He takes your hands, holding them tightly. “It’s not you. It’s… me. It’s my world. I need to go back to where I came from.”

You can’t comprehend what he’s saying, but the desperation in his voice silences your questions. You nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “Fine,” you say, even though it’s anything but fine. “If you have to go… go.”

His hands linger on yours for a moment longer before he lets go. “I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me,” he says softly. “But I can’t. Not here.”

Tears spill over as you watch him turn back to the machine. “Will I ever see you again?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

He hesitates, his hand hovering over the lever. “I don’t know.”

That’s all he can give you.

With one last look at you, his expression filled with regret and longing, he pulls the lever. The machine sparks to life, and the air around him ripples with energy. You take a step back, shielding your eyes as the light grows blinding.

When the light fades, he’s there, his tired body slumped down on the ground. You immediately run to his side, kneeling down and pulling him to your lap. The room falls silent, the only sound the faint hum of the now blown up machine. You gently caress his cheek, tears running down your hot cheeks.

After a while, he wakes up.

And it doesn’t take you very long to realise.

You glance at the remains one last time.

And you hope that wherever he is, he’s doing what he set out to do—saving his people, his world, even if it meant leaving this one behind.

[daisymbin]

Would you mind writing about Vernon with the angst prompt #22 and second chance prompt #36? Thank you so much m💜

of course!! thank you for requesting such a good combo!!! 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // hansol's m.list

angst prompt #22: "I can't lose you again." +

second chance prompt #36: "you're still the first person i think of when i hear good news."

hansol didn’t think he’d ever have this moment again.

you, standing in front of him, looking at him like you were waiting for him to speak, waiting for him to say something that mattered.

it had been months. months since that fight, months since the slammed door, months since the version of him that loved you was tucked away in a part of him he didn’t think he could reach again. except he did reach it. every time he saw something funny. every time he heard a song you’d love. every time someone said your name.

and now you were here, and he was scrambling, piecing together fragments of himself that shattered the day he lost you.

“you look... good,” he managed, voice breaking on the second word.

your lips curled into a faint smile. “so do you.”

but you didn’t. not really. not to him.

you looked tired, as if you’d carried something heavy all the way to him, and hansol wondered if he was the weight you’d been dragging behind you all this time.

“what are you doing here?” he asked softly, hands shoved deep into his pockets to keep them from shaking.

you hesitated. he knew you hated confrontation, and part of him wanted to tell you it was okay, that you didn’t owe him anything. but the other part—the bigger part—couldn’t stand to see you turn away again.

“i don’t know,” you said finally, voice as fragile as glass. “i just… i guess i needed to see you.”

he couldn’t breathe.

“why?”

you laughed, but it wasn’t the laugh he missed. this one was bitter, almost sad.

“i guess i was hoping you could tell me,” you admitted. the words falling out of mouth like an apology.

hansol took a step closer, his hands twitching at his sides. he didn’t dare touch you, not yet, not when it felt like you might disappear if he blinked too hard.

and hansol realized something then—he didn’t care why. all he cared about was that you were here.

“i thought about you,” he confessed, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

your eyes met his, wide and unsure, and hansol pressed on, desperate to fill the silence between you.

“every day,” he said, his voice cracking under the weight of it all. “even when i tried not to. i thought about you.”

you didn’t say anything, and hansol felt the panic rising in his chest.

“you’re still the first person i think of when i hear good news,” he admitted, his hands curling into fists. “every time something happens, i want to tell you. and then i remember i can’t. not anymore,”

your breath hitched, and hansol felt like he was unraveling, the words pouring out faster than he could catch them.

“i can’t lose you again,” he said, the desperation thick in his voice. “not after this. not after—”

“hansol.”

your voice was soft but firm, and it stopped him in his tracks.

you stepped closer, your eyes searching his face for something he didn’t know if he could give you.

“why?” you asked, echoing his earlier question.

“because you’re here,” he said, and it was the only answer he had. “because i never stopped wanting to fix this. fix us. but i didn’t know how. i didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

you didn’t say anything right away, and hansol’s heart felt like it was seconds away from shattering.

“do you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you looked down, your fingers twitching like you were debating something, and when you looked back up, there was something in your eyes that hansol hadn’t seen in months.

“i don’t know,” you said honestly, and it felt like a punch to the gut.

but then your lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, and hansol felt the slightest flicker of hope.

“maybe,” you said, and hansol realized that maybe was enough. maybe meant there was a chance.

“can we try?” he asked, his voice trembling.

you didn’t answer, not with words. but when your fingers brushed against his, hesitant and unsure, hansol felt the air return to his lungs.

he didn’t know what would happen next. he didn’t know if this was the start of something new or the beginning of another heartbreak.

but when your hand slipped into his, he decided it didn’t matter.

[halfwayhearted]

Maps — Jobe Bellingham.

Pairing: Jobe Bellingham x Fem!Reader

Summary: Noticing the not-so-subtle stares of the man you wanted but couldn’t have was something you despised.

Word Count: 775+

Disclaimer/s — Slight angst-ish… argument, that’s it.

A/N: The idea I originally had for this like, left my mind in the middle of writing so the ending is so ohr… rushed… hey. Hey!

Why couldn’t he make up his mind? Did he want you? Did he not? It was like holding a flower and delicately picking off the petals, playing the game of ‘he loves me,’ ‘he loves me not.’ It was tiring.

You didn’t know, nor could you tell. It was enough to make you lose it. Spending seconds, minutes, and hours on the situation only to push it aside. Telling yourself not to keep this going. But how could you do that when he always made you feel like you could actually mean something to him?

It pissed you off more than you cared to admit.

What pissed you off even more was the fact that Jobe was staring at you from across the room, his fingers running over his bottom lip and his eyes narrowed while the guy you were speaking to let out a laugh at something you had said. Seriously?

You told yourself that you were fine, you could do this. Don’t let him get to you. He wasn’t worth it.

Maybe you would have listened to your own advice if the man in front of you hadn’t stiffened and asked, “You know who that is over there?”

Already knowing who he was referring to, you refrain from sighing and instead excuse yourself. Wasting no time, you stride toward the man who slowly smirks up at you. Oh, you hated him.

“What the hell are you trying to accomplish?” You snap, your gaze never leaving his even when he stands up and shoves his hands into his pockets.

“I’m not trying to ‘accomplish’ anything.” Oh boy, he was insufferable! You couldn’t stand him at all.

Yet you still couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away when he gently grasps your forearms and guides you to a secluded area outside, thinking it was because your voice was raising and he didn’t want anyone to focus their attention on the both of you.

The second you’re aware that it’s just the two of you, you inhale sharply. “If you think you can just ghost me for days on end and then stare at anybody who’s even an inch in my vicinity the way you’re staring, then you’re wrong,” you snap, hands clenching. “Is it really that hard to make up your mind? I don’t—I don’t get you at all, Jobe!”

When he opens his mouth to speak, you quickly continue, “I will not wait for someone who doesn’t know what or who they want. I just won’t.”

After a few seconds pass, Jobe just simply stares at you, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, as if he’s contemplating how to handle the situation.

“Of course,” you scoff. “Whatever—I’m done.” Turning around, you’re about to walk away when he lets out a sigh and tugs you back toward him, making you roll your eyes and take a step back.

The man wets his lips, “I do know what I want.”

“Do you? Then tell me, what is it that you want?”

“You,” he responds almost instantly, making you suck in a breath. But you won’t give in that easily.

“Your way of showing it could use a little work.”

Taking a step toward you, he speaks once again, “Listen—I was… stupid before. I’m sure now.”

“You say you can’t be with me. Then you say that you won’t be able to be with me. Now I’m who you want? I don’t need you playing in my face.”

How did he go about this? You wouldn’t believe him. Rightfully so. Now that he was finally here and able to admit how he felt, he couldn’t help but feel that he was too late. Was he too late?

“What can I do?” He questions, his tone of voice quiet and soft. “Tell me what I can do; I’ll do it.”

Your eyes narrow. He was telling the truth, indeed he was. It didn’t even matter to you. Not anymore.

That’s what you kept telling yourself, but his next words changed your mind in an instant: “Will you have dinner with me? Let me just prove it to you.”

Let me prove it to you. All the resolve you had mustered up disintegrated into thin air and you found yourself letting out a sigh, “One dinner.”

“One dinner?” He echoes. “That’s—okay. Deal.”

Right, deal. You give Jobe one last look before walking past him. Once he’s alone, he starts coming up with different plans for your dinner. This is his one chance to prove to you that he’s, well, sorry and that you’re the one he wants.

And the man will make sure to prove both to you.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @iovepoem + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ

[katiascraft]

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ "Maybe i should've told you i miss you. I almost said it but i don't know if you feel the same" | OP81 ✧₊⁺

Parings: oscar piastri x singer!reader

Summary: your insecurities lead to lose your favorite person in the world but destiny always plays his worst (or best cards) for you. In the aftermath of it all, two souls come together as one (again). Or that’s what they’d like.

Word count: 6k.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, insecurities and depression. Just angst. And a little fluff. Centered on a few songs of Gracie abrams that will be mentioned on the story (just if you want to listen to them while reading). Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author's note: this is the longest fic I wrote but im so happy with it! I just hope you liked it as much as I do! (I like to suffer 🙃) I should be writing essays tho. Don’t forget to like, reblog or comment! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

The ticking clock ── .✦

You took a deep breath. Your hands were shaking and your stress levels were at their peak.

“You are always picking fights, y/n. I'm tired, "Oscar said, clearly annoyed. Is not that you always fought or had a toxic relationship, no. but lately, things got harder between you two. Stupid fights now and then. Dead silence that creeps you out everytime. Coldness was the new dynamic you had going on. And it hurts.

Everyday hurts lately.

“Oscar, I'm not always picking fights. For fucks sake, just wanted to know why you are so cold all the time to me!” you didn't want to raise your tone but desperation never took the best out of you. He was shocked, his head disapproving. Probably done with all of this. Done with you. You didn't want to admit it but maybe it was true. 

“I'm not being cold to you, y/n. I already explained it to you: I'm tired. My job it's complicated enough to come home to be even more complicated. Just stop” he said leaving the kitchen, leaving you behind hanging in your words. That made you so you followed him down to the living room. 

“Oscar, don't leave me talking alone, please! Why do you always have to run away? I have feelings actually you know? I would love to express them to my lover so we can have a proper conversation, what do you think about that?”

“y/n, bullshit. Don't act like I'm a monster who doesn't listen to you. If i didnt we wouldn't have this argument. Stop playing the victim for once. You don't hear me out either anyway” he gritted his teeth trying not to follow you down with your anger. He didn't want to raise his voice towards you. 

“Playing victim? You're impossible oscar. I only asked you a fucking question, what did i do wrong for you to ignore me and act so cold? And you said you're just tired and that's bullshit” you were so angry by now. Offended. Hurt by his words. Hurt by the fact you were happy once and now everything is falling apart. You never hurt this deep before. 

“It's not!” he couldn't anymore with all of this. He didn't want to raise his voice but you made him feel exasperated. “You see? You don't trust me! Im telling you im just tired and you say its bullshit and then you play the victim card that i dont listen to you and im a fucking monster? I see how things go now. I'm done” he didn't even want to look at you. He just sat on the sofa looking at the floor. But you heard what he said under his breath. What you were most scared of what’s happening. 

You started crying out of desperation, anxious that all of this was gonna end right there and then. You just left him there and went back to the kitchen as if that way he wouldn't see nor hear you crying. You just couldn't keep talking or being around him. Your heart was sinking.

He sighed frustrated and stood up sprinting to his studio and banging the door. You gasped hearing the door closing so violently. No that he noticed what he said. Nor that he cared you thought he didnt care you anymore, that was for sure. 

(...)

You haven't talked to Oscar since yesterday. He didn't sleep at your shared apartment. He said he didn't want to see you. That hurt a lot. Your heart was already broken. You didn't know what to do anymore. You've been on this rabbit hole for several months. You didn't understand what broke between you or when it was. You felt confused, lonely and scared. What would your whole life be without him? Once, you only wrote love songs because what you felt for him was beyond what your body could handle so you needed to take it out. Now, you didn't write anything for months. You felt too much sadness, it felt like you didn't feel anything at all. Just emptiness. 

You were playing with your food, not really that hungry that you thought you would be. Another night alone without him. Would life be like this when he gets rid of me? I don't wanna leave. 

The doorbell rang. You frowned, not sure who it could be knowing it was almost 10pm and I couldn't sleep (just as yesterday and every time you had an argument with him). You looked through the little visor of the door seeing your boyfriend was back home. But telling from the look on his face, things wouldn't be better anyway. You opened the door after taking a deep breath not sure if you would survive another fight. 

You two just looked at each other for a few seconds. Probably analyzing how you were feeling now that 2 days have passed by. Neither of you smiled. Not that you had the energy or a reason to anymore. You moved from the door so he could get into the apartment and closed the door once he was in. 

“Did I wake you up?” he asked quietly. You swallowed hard not knowing what to say by this point.

“I can't sleep since you are gone, so. No, you didn't” you didn't want to sound cold, especially after you fought because he was acting like that with you,but you felt like shit and didnt have energy to pretend you were okay with it all. You felt miserable. He nodded without saying a word and looked at the floor for a moment. 

After a moment of really uncomfortable silence you broke it with something you didn't even think would slip out your mouth “are you seeing someone else, oscar?” your words cut through him as if they were sharp glass pieces just thrown directly at him. 

“What?” He was surprised and hurt that you thought about him like that. You shrug.

“I mean, it's not that you don't kiss me anymore, so.and i think you're not tired because of your job, i think you're just bored of me, tired of me, done with me” you sat on the kitchen table again. He followed you there but stayed standard. He was confused and hurt now. 

“When did I ever say that to you?” he was tired of all of this, for sure. But he wanted to make things work with you. He just didn't know how to.  It was hard for him to understand you, but he was trying. He finally sat in front of you staring at your plate. It was full, you kept playing with your doodles, pretending to eat like you used to. He felt so guilty for all of this. He knew at that moment. That he broke you. He didn't know how or when but he did. His face softened in sadness.

“You said it. You said you were done and you know what? I get it. I mean, it's not as if I am easy to love. I know I'm complicated and a pain in the ass for everyone so I wouldn't be surprised if you found someone else that makes you happy for real and you don't wanna tell me out of pity. I'm ready to hear it though. Just say it” your voice was empty and plain no emotion detected just numbness. He didn't want to think it was too late. It Has been a long time since he has seen you like this. At that time it wasn't him who made you feel like it. 

“I didn't mean to say it, y/N. I Was tired because of work and fighting with you. I don't like fighting with you. I wanna make things right, please. I wouldn't ever do that to you, you know it” he explained desperate for a moment. He wanted you to believe him. But your face didn't say anything. He couldn't read you and made him scared. You looked unbothered, way far gone now.  

You shook your head “i know you mean it and i know you are tired, but i don't think you really want to be with me anymore” your sincerity cut like a knife in both of you. Like, you over thought a lot about it but it still hurt. He was lost and didn't know what was going on anymore or was going through all of that. “You didn't deny it either” you continued.

“I'm not with anyone else, y/N, please” he cut you off with his deep voice, kind of cracky now. 

(...) 

You just didn't know how you ended up moaning his name once more. His mouth is in your centre. His hands are grabbing your tights. Your fingers on his hair.

How easy is it, right? To love someone. One moment, you destroy them.. Then, you fix them with makeup sex. Making them see the stars so they forget how shitty things are. So that pleasure it's more important than gentle affection. Always pretending to be sane then doing insane shit like this as if memory didn't exist when it came to you and him. As if feeling him inside you was the only thing that could fix your mind. That it was the only way to communicate properly. As if it was your love language, then ignore each other. 

His mands of your body grabbing you as if you were about to break and he was trying to keep all of your pieces together. As if he could save you or your relationship that was already 10 feet down buried. He would like to think sex could fix it. That it was the best to communicate if then you didn't trust him. He was hurt and you didn't trust him. You were hurt because he didn't love you anymore. Unfortunately, your minds couldn't agree. You were the love of his life, he wanted to help and make you trust him. But you just didn't, you already convinced yourself he didn't love you anymore and that everyone was better than you. He wanted a team when you just wanted to run away from him. Or from yourself? 

Destruction ── .✦

“I'm done with you for real, y/n! Everytime an important day comes for me, you just like to ruin it!” He was mad as hell. Fed up with all your bullshit. 

“You really think I do it on purpose? oscar! “ He left the room so you started following him around your shared apartment. “I wouldn't if you didn't ignore like you always do! I don't know what to do anymore! Nothing seems enough for you!” you started crying out. Your heart couldn't take it anymore and this time it felt different. So much different than any time before.

“Why is it always my fault? Why am I always the one doing something wrong? The only thing you do is complain about me and then you just want me to kiss you?! You are insane!” His words cut you deep, so deep you thought they cut you in half and you were nothing anymore. You couldn't breathe for a moment. He called you insane just the way your parents made you feel your whole life. Maybe they were right after all. You deserved all of those years in a psychiatric hospital. You deserved even when he

 was the first one to say your parents were monsters and you were more than okay. More than normal. More than lovable. How ironic, right?You wanted to laugh but couldn't. You just couldn't move. 

Oscar realised what he said. He knew when he saw you. He felt terrible at that moment.

“Look, y/n i-” you cut him not wanting to listen to him anymore. 

“Dont talk” you said shaky under your breath. You had to sit down on the sofa because you felt you were about to faint. In shock - a lot of moments of your relationship replayed in your head. How could someone who said he loved you more than anything and anyone, end up thinking just as your parents? It was your fault. Of course it was. How could you ever think someone would love you? You were miserable. How can someone love a miserable person? 

Oscar started breathing heavily and he had to sit on the floor trying to calm down. He is always so collected and rational, these kinds of feelings he had never experienced, not even with his ex. 

“We can't be together Oscar, I make you miserable. And you're right. I'm insane, how could someone love me right? No one wants to deal with my bullshit, not even myself” you said quietly. His throat closed for a moment. He remained in silence for a few seconds processing your words. You didn't look at each other, you couldn't. Guess this was it. How sad, right? Oscar started crying realizing what was about to come.

“I promise y/N, I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it that way. You aren't hard to love, actually the opposite. But yeah, i don't think this is working for us anymore whether i like it or not” he said wiping his tears out of his face as he could. 

You nodded even though you didn't hear a word he said. It was over. Your life is over. 

Do you ever think of me? ── .✦

It's been exactly 8 months and 25 days since you and Oscar were not together anymore. Yes, you had a countdown. You created it to see how far you’ll survive because you didn't believe you would last this much. You thought your life was over and for a few weeks it was. You didn't get out of bed. The break up depression, i guess. Your friends suggested you go back to therapy because they were really worried about you and your mental health. They knew how much Oscar meant to you: he was your everything. And to be honest, that was your first mistake going into the relationship with him. 

You shouldn't have made him your everything because you were nothing suddenly when you left. You didn't know who you were without him, what you liked or what you would like to be. All of your future plans had him in them. There wasn't a future without him. He was everywhere in your life. You shaped your destiny around him. You wanted to get married and have kids with him. And you never wanted to be a mother but he had changed that until he was gone. 

You couldn't go back to dating. You tried but failed every time. You were a little too afraid to get hurt again. You had to work through your insecurities and traumas first. There was a lot of your history that needed to be let go. You needed to go through really ugly times in your past to find some perspective. Forgive yourself, putting yourself first, understanding yourself. You just worked on knowing you and becoming the person you always wanted. 

And you grew and changed so much. You felt proud of yourself. You started writing again. Creating was the best way to mourn your relationship with Oscar alongside your old self that left him. To mourn that part of you that is gone forever. Creating was what kept you sane all this time. What brought you back to life. You wrote so many songs about him. Blaming you, blaming him. Blaming the universe for not putting it easier on you. 

So music, once again, saved your life. 

Oscar’s life changed drastically. Not only by the fact he didn't have you anymore on the paddock to cheer him on, but also he didn't have you in his apartment to share his life with. He missed you everyday he woke up to an empty bed. Mourning what you had changed him forever. He blamed himself for not knowing how to get to you, how to understand you and be able to help you through it. So he started reading about psychology to learn how to understand people better. He wanted to improve his emotional intelligence. He knew that maybe you wouldn't be there anymore, probably forever, but at least he could be better to the people around him. 

He didn't date anyone. His way of mourning was trying not to think about it occupying his space and time with work and training and racing and reading. He couldn't do anything else.  

He always found himself not being able to think, wondering where you were and especially how you were. After that night, you went to cero contact. And he knew it was the best, but he couldn't get you out of his head yet. He felt guilty knowing that he can understand your needs better when it's a little too late. He just wished to press rewind and do it again but the right way this time. He knew it was impossible and that dug a hole in his heart. He knew that it would be there forever. You were the love of his life. He really thought he couldn't love anyone that way, ever again. You were a force of nature for him. Blowing him away every single time. 

You never went back to races. He knew how much you adored the sport and how in another life you would have loved to be an engineer. You dreamed of one day to see a woman on the podium. You actually sponsored two girls from F1 Academy. The boys didn't see you again either. Actually he knew you did see lando a few times because you two became really close during your relationship, but lando always lied and told him that he didn't see you. He knew Lando was trying to be a good friend. He even tried to introduce Oscar to some girls but it never worked. He tried though. But he found himself thinking that he was kissing it was you. It was heartbreaking to see. He was kind of stuck on you. 

So he decided he would take his time to grow and figure out who he was by himself. Find comfort in his own company. Doing dates  by himself. He found it cringe to call it that way but his therapist insisted on calling it that way so he could deprogram himself from you and anything and everything related to you. 

He was proud of himself though. He was doing alright again, actually enjoying his job, his friends, and his own company. He even won races, he did podiums and everything he dreamed of. But still, he hoped you didn't feel like you needed to leave to let him shine. He wished you were there every time to hug you and shower you in  champagne. 

He really missed you in his life. 

Too far gone, don’t know where we started ── .✦

So here you were more than a year later at the Azerbaijan GP 2024. The Mercedes team invited you as a star guest so you came with your friend because alone you would have died. Actually, before coming to the paddock you had an anxiety attack and if it wasn't for your friend who made sure you felt safe and okay to go, you would’ve been on a plane back home. It was the first time since you broke up with Oscar you felt okay enough to be able to go through it. You were invited by different teams at least 15 times now. But you always lied and said you couldn't make it. You just needed to stay at home or the studio writing as far as possible from oscar and anything related to him. But you went through all of that with your therapist and she said that if you liked the sport and you really enjoyed races or anything related to it, you shouldn't let Oscar or the thought of him or what happened, deprive you of it. 

It was sunday, you preferred not to come on friday or saturday just because there were more possibilities you would bump into him. And you just weren't ready to see him. The race was insane so far. Actually, Oscar was doing more than okay. Your heart was pounding, you could hear it loud and clear. Your best friend held your hand all the time in that garage so you don't forget she’s there for you. And that you’re okay.  You knew you shouldn't be afraid of him because he was an angel. But you were scared of yourself and how would you handle that situation. You came to terms that actually, everything that happened between him and you, it was that your insecurities just made everything so toxic that he couldn't handle it all. It didn't feel good when you realised that but it is what it is. You didn't know better and forgiving yourself for that was the hardest part of the process. 

You squeezed your best friend's hand, it was the last lap. Your heart is almost out of your body. You are wearing an old Oscar hoodie. You really liked it, plus you came here looking like shit in your opinion. You didn't even brush your hair nor that you needed it like before, now your hair is super short. Everyone in the garage was watching closely and before you could actually process what you ‘ve just seen. Your friends shouted “omg” in unison not believing what they saw.

Destiny had its twisted ways to be honest. Osca won the race. he won. You were just shocked. 

You were here and he won, like, what are the chances of that to happen actually? First race you’re back and he wins. and in that way. Your friends hugged you. 

“Holy shit that 's really insane shit” Nikola said, watching the screens at the garage. 

“We need to go guys, i don't wanna see him, please” you didn't know why you started to panic like that. Sonny looked at Nikola and just got you out of there. 

At the Mercedes hospitality you felt safe while the celebrations were held. There was no reason or chance Oscar walked into the Mercedes building, right?  You were drinking some coffee with you girls trying to focus on the conversation about any other driver but Oscar, just around strategy and stuff. You were trying really hard but you couldn't stop thinking about the fact that maybe he could come into you any time. Now that you see destiny hates you. 

“y/N, you okay bestie?”Sonny tried to get you out of your drawing though by touching your arm so she could catch your attention back to reality. 

“Oh yeah, I was just thinking,” you said, adjusting yourself on the chair. Nikola looked worried. 

“y/n, we can go if you need to. We don't want you to feel uncomfortable, okay? Just tell us” she said, comprehensively describing the situation and her friend's feelings. You licked your dry lips.

Before you could answer her someone interrupted you. 

“y/, is it you?” that. Fucking. Voice. Your friends’ eyes widen as surprised as you were. You turned to the voice to find, in fact, your ex boyfriend watching you so confused. You were speechless for a moment. He looked so pretty and sweaty. His eyes are shining brighter than ever you have seen. 

“Oh, hi oscar. Yeah, it’s me” you tried to play it cool but to be fair, you felt the butterflies on your stomach just like the first time you met him at that  birthday party you didn't want to go to. But luckilyyou did. Destiny is always playing dirty for you. Or geniously. You didn't know anymore. He smiled widely.

“Oh, wow, hi, yeah. I didn't know you were coming” he said nervously. Your friends looked at each other noticing. 

“I was invited by George, actually. I almost didn't come tho. How crazy, you win right? You did an amazing race. "You were surprised that you could even have a proper conversation with him while your heart was hurting out of anxiety, nervousness and butterflies were everywhere. 

Oscar Felt his chest tighter. His stomach was happy to see you, he knew. “Thank you,” he said sweetly. You looked so pretty under the light of the Mercedes building. You were his hoodie, your favorite, but he didn't know if it was appropriate to mention it. Your hair was so short and looked so beautiful on you. It actually made you look prettier. Your face was the face of an angel, he always thought that. But with that haircut it only intensified your perfection. He felt stupid. Just like the first time he saw you at that party he wasn't even invited directly. Destiny always played on his favour with you, until that night. He didn't even want to remember it. You looked so different yet you felt the same. Your perfume was the same, he knew. It’s the one he gifted you on your 6 month anniversary. You used to celebrate each month. 

An awkward silence makes its presence between you two, not knowing what else to say or comment. 

“Congrats oscar on the win” sonny tried to save you from misery right there capturing oscar’s attention. He smiled gently, thanking her and nikola. He recognized them and gave them a hug. He seemed happy to see them. You smiled remembering your nights playing uno and drinking wine and baking canela rolls when winter break came around. You Missed him more than you’ve ever thought you would. And something inside you just felt exactly the same you always felt with him. He altered the chemistry in your brain so easily it was kind of scary. 

“Hey osc! Zac wants to talk to you! What are you doing here?” Lando Norris came into the building as well. He was your friend when he saw who Oscar was, he grinned. “Hey, bestie, whatchu doing here?” he said happily, giving you a comforting hug. He was genuinely surprised because you didn't even tell you. He suspected Oscar was here because George told him you were here. He can't keep secrets. And he knew it was George because he was sure Lewis didn't even know you. 

“George invited us,” you explained after he stepped back.

“Okay let's go, great to see you girl. Hope to see you around more often "Oscar said while looking directly at you in the last sentence to then disappear dragging Lando out of the hospitality. Your friends looked at you and you looked at them.

“I need a whole vodka bottle down my throat right now” you sentence, making you laugh. But you didn't. You felt scared of what you felt a few moments ago. 

(...)

New year is here. You were invited along with your friends by lando to his beginning of the year party here in Monaco. And oh you knew Oscar was gonna be there. Of course, he is one of his closest friends also.

This time you felt more calm and collected around the fact you were going to see him again. I think being drunk was the thing you were thanked for. If something felt rare,you would drink straight vodka or tequila and the problem was solved. You didn’t even have to think about it. 

Your friend helped choose the sexiest dress for you. It was a satin white little dress with broderie endings. Pretty subtle but at the same time suggesting. Just how you were. Angel face, dirty minded. Problem was you couldn't date people because of the Oscars. Because since you saw him those seconds in Azerbaijan, you couldn't stop seeing his shiny eyes and beautiful smile every time you close your eyes. You didn't interact all of this time, you didn't even follow each other on social media. 

Mystery drove you I guess. And who could blame you? It was Oscar Piastri, the one you had to forget. But I just couldn't. You missed his touch, his breath, his voice, his lips. 

Your friend took you out of your thoughts telling you they needed to go to the bathroom. You Followed them around the party up to the toilets. They got in but you decided to wait outside because the music was just so good you wanted to enjoy it. You always wished you could write a party song but it isn't your thing at all. Nor you didn't have the personality for it. You were too deep of a person. You needed to cut deep. Be someone to suffer along with. Or at least that’s how you perceive yourself as an artist. 

“y/N?” not that voice again. That damn voice. Though this time you were waiting for it. You looked up to find a drunk Oscar in front of you. You were breathless for a moment. How can a man become so much hotter in just a year? You smiled at him feeling your strawberry lip gloss. 

“Hoy, osc. What’s up?” you said easily. The alcohol made it easier actually. When he smiled you almost died. You Adored his smile since that party you didn't even want to go to. You thought you fell in love with him just right there. Just right here…?

“I was looking for Danny, have you seen him?” he said normally, ignoring his heart, almost skipping a beat when he saw you in that short white dress. He hoped not to be drooling in your face. Since he saw you again, he couldn't get you out of his head. You were everyday hunting him. He wanted to text you but he wasn't sure if he should. You seem so happy now, he didn't want to ruin it. He convinced himself that probably the best for you was staying away from him as much as possible. At the end of the day, he was the reason you hurt, right? Or he wanted to believe that. 

For a moment you watched his lips talking to you. His drunk voice always turned you on. But you couldn't show it. Not anymore. You looked back at his eyes. Half smile on your face while shaking your head “no, i didn't. Iwas waiting for my friends that are in the bathroom” you explained and he nodded. 

“Well, I'll keep looking then. See you around” he told you to go back into the crowd to look for his friends. Hesaw the way you looked at his lips. He had to be the stronger one. It was better this way. As much as he wanted to eat you out right there and then.

He hurt you. He didn't understand you. He didn't deserve you. He made sure to protect you from himself. Even though all he wanted was to be with you. 

the announcement ── .✦

yourusername made a post

liked by sabrinacarpenter, landonorris, georgerussel and 987,677 others

yourusername: finally, i'm so hyped i can tell you that my new ep "almost said i miss you" will be yours on february 14 🥹 left my heart on these songs and i'm so excited for you to hear them! Love you sm. Thank u for all of the support. Ur my angels <3

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user56: OMG THIS THE BEST IM SO HYPED QUEEN I MISSED YOU

oscarstan: the song titles 😭😭😭😭😭😭

y/nstan: let's pretend we don't know for who these are to

landonorris: cant wait for people to cry their eyes out just like i did :'( *liked by yourusername*

↳ georgerussel: i know someone

↳ georgerussel: @/oscarpiastri

↳ alexalbon: you can't live without drama, don't you?

↳ georgerussel: not drama mate, i'm making things work here

hattiepiastri: so excited girl !!!!!

↳ user674: NOT HIS SISTER HI GIRL

↳ user89: let's not make assumptions, maybe they remained friends

↳ user45: i try not to be delusional but this doesnt make it easier

danielricciardo: congrats princess! I already know you 'll kill it! Miss you *liked by yourusername*

sabrinacarpenter: never fail to make me cry for hours. I love you, ur the best in this world *liked by yourusername and oscarpiatri*

↳ user90: OMG HE LIKED HE LIKED WHAT IS GOING ON

↳ user12: AAAAAAAAAA

↳ georgerussel: you're welcome guys :)

taylorswift: and artist of the year goes to.... *liked by yourusername*

The aftermath - february 14 ── .✦

Oscar was back to the UK training for the beginning of the new season. It was the coldest winter he experienced. He got back home from mclaren hq. He took a hot shower to warm himself. His apartment was silent. It felt empty for the first time. Like something was missing. He went straight into bed. He wasn't that hungry anyway, but he was tired indeed. 

“Hey, listen to it. I think you need to” 

He saw his sister Hattie's notification pop up on his screen confusing him abit. He went into the messages app and opened his sister’s. When he did he understood what she was talking about. A knot on this throat formed. It was y/n's ep. Guess he now understood taylor swift’s exes. It’s hard to date a musician ust because of the aftermath of the relationship. 

“Just do it. You will understand why once you did” 

Another message popped up on this screen and sighed heavily. Probably his sister was right but at the same time he was scaredas fuck. He opened it on spotify, she looked as pretty as ever on the cover of it. ‘Almost said I miss you’ - that was the title and only had 3 songs. By the names of them he suspected it was about him but he tried to believe they weren't even though his sister already told him that they were. He decided to listen to it in order.

He took his headphones from his nightstand so he could hear your voice clearly. All over his head. Cutting deep into his fiber. 

The first piano tiles started playing and his heart was already sinking. Hearing her voice so raw and close and clear sent shivers down his spine. He heard every single word you said. It described perfectly that horrible and forgettable night you broke up. Hearing your voice crack broke his heart into a million pieces. It wasn't even half of the song when he started crying. He knew what he said under his breath that sent you both straight into hell. He felt so guilty about everything. He really just wished to talk to you. 

When he started to hear the second song he knew it was about that race you went. He hoped to see you in the next one, and the next one. But you didn't go again. The lyrics were so real his skin felt every word. 

When he heard you saying that you felt sorry his tears streamed down his face more violently. He didn't recognize this person. But you always had this effect on him. With you he was a feeler, one that felt way too deeply. Unlike the person he shows to people. You always knew the real him. He couldn't lie to you. Even though you thought he would cheat on  you. He would never. Hearing you wanting to hold him broke his heart. Why did you both have to do this the hard way? Why didn't you just be happy with each other? He really missed you. He missed everything about you. Your presence around him. He was his best version with you. Now he feels like a ghost of who he used to be. 

The last song just ended him. 

‘Do you remember being happy together? I do, don't you? Then all of the sudden, you’re sick to your stomach. Is that still true?’ he whipped his tears the best he could. 

He never called you or told you he missed you. But he guessed you would have liked it like that. 

‘everything i know brings me back to us. Everywhere I go leads me back to you’ he felt the same. 

He didn't know what to do. He had a battle inside him. He promised himself he would stay away from you so you could be happy just like you deserved. But at the same time he wanted to be happy and he knew you made him happy. He was happy with you. 

“So? Call her please oscar. You both deserve to be happy and figure things out along the way, together”

Hattie read his mind. Her text just in time when he is back into the silent apartment. The empty and cold apartment that once was full of laughter and music because you were with him. He missed you so much. He missed hearing you play guitar rumbling words then writing them down. Your hugs when he was back home, your cuddles in bed when he was sad, your perspective on things. He missed every detail about you.

But was he ready to come back to you?

[bullet-prooflove]

Pillow Talk: Alden Parker x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @mandy426 @caffeinatedwoman @elefrog25-blog @toheavenwmydrms

Companion piece to:

Left Behind - You come home to find Alden on the run with his ex-wife Viv.

See It (NSFW) - Alden returns to you after being on the run.

The Middle - Alden does not want to be caught in the middle of your case.

Alden’s in a mood, you can tell from the way he huffs as he flips onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. You lie beside him in the darkness, listening to the sound of his breathing.

“You’re pissed I invited her to stay.” You say and Alden sighs.

“No.” He drawls out the word. “I’m pissed you didn’t get her to tell Nick.”

He’s talking about Harper, Nick’s life partner. She’s been receiving gifts from a man calling himself Casanova, horrible intimate gifts. It’s been going on for months, Alden discovered earlier today, months without a word to Nick from neither you or Harper.

“It’s not my place to…” You begin but Alden cuts you off.

“We had dinner with them last week.” He hisses as he tilts his head towards you. “You both sat across from him and said nothing!”

“Alden.” You whisper fiercely so you don’t wake up your guest sleeping on the couch in the other room. “It’s a case, you know I can’t discuss my cases outside my department, the same way you can’t and I can’t force her to tell Nick if she doesn’t want to.”

“Lisa,” He says and you can hear the undertone of agitation in his voice. “How do you think he’s going to feel when he realises his friends, the people he thinks of as his family kept this secret from him?”

Despite what Alden may say he is fiercely protective over Nick Torres. He’d been hurt, paranoid and suspicious after Gibbs had left for Alaska and it had taken Alden months to start building that trust.

“Look I know it’s hard to understand but I get where she’s coming from…”

“Oh you do, do you?” He says cutting you off again. “Is someone sending you diamond earrings and dirty panties that I don’t know about?”

There’s silence then and Alden’s gaze lowers to your hands. You’re playing with your wedding ring, your thumb rubbing lightly over the band.

“Lisa.” He says, propping his head up on his arm. “Do not tell me the same asshole…”

“No.” You say resolutely, your gaze lowering to the peach sapphire residing in the fitting of your ring. “Nothing like that. It’s Kris, he started sending me letters while you were away.”

Kris. Your ex-husband, the one that’s currently in prison for trying to kill you. The fact he decided to contact you when Alden was on the run was no coincidence. He can only imagine what those letters to you must have said.

“How many?” He responds testily. “How many did he send you while I was away?”

“Three.” You say quietly. “You weren’t here so I took care of it myself.”

It feels like you’ve plunged a knife into his heart and twisted. He’s sensitive about the time he’d spent on the lam, about disappearing from your marriage, turning your life upside down and leaving you to deal with the FBI. Those letters they’re just another example of his failure. He wasn’t there to protect you the first time Kris came after you, he wasn’t there this time.

He says nothing as he turns onto his side, his back facing you. He squeezes his eyes shut as he crosses his arms over his chest. He knows why you didn’t tell him, you knew he would have gone to that prison and torn Kris’s fucking head off.

“Alden…” You say softly but he doesn’t want to talk anymore.  

 “I’m tired Lisa.” He says, his voice devoid of emotion. “I need to get some sleep so I can be up to meet Nick off that chopper in the morning.”

“Oh.” You whisper and he can hear the sadness in your voice. “I understand.”

But you don’t, not really because Alden, he’s a shitty a husband. You just haven’t realised it yet.

Love Alden? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[dykedvonte]

Fallout New Crashes

[dreamyberry]

/9.10.23

[al3xandriaaaa]

I’m always the one that gets treated like shit but I never do it to you!

[writingsbychlo]

BUY ME PRESENTS | draco malfoy

summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.

word count; 8928

notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?

Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction. 

Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat. 

“Good day?”

“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”

“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations. 

A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”

Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.” 

He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there. 

“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.

“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?” 

The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official. 

You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment. 

It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games. 

Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”

Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time. 

Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either. 

“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”

Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”

“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics. 

You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.

“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side. 

“Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised. 

The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you. 

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”

The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.

The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over. 

You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.

“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”

“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you. 

A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.

Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.

The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room. 

Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests. 

Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled. 

The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one. 

You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it. 

“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.” 

She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately. 

“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had. 

“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of. 

He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white. 

You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness. 

“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her. 

“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”

Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you. 

Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;

“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”

Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you. 

“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return. 

“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye. 

“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes. 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go. 

“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath. 

“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”

He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.

The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you. 

He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.

Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass. 

He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course. 

As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate. 

Men did love a little attention, after all. 

Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.

You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.

“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.

As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”

“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down. 

“And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar. 

“It is, I think.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere. 

When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”

You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”

“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”

“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.

“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”

“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.

“The theatre, then?”

Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”

“And you, Elliot.”

Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed. 

You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.

You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair. 

You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch. 

As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone. 

To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through. 

He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat. 

His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low. 

Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover. 

Until, Theo spoke up. 

“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.

“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.

“When?”

“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you. 

“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”

“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”

“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”

“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”

Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”

“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”

“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”

“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.

You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth. 

“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”

You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from. 

You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair. 

“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”

Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend. 

“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.

Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after. 

Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know. 

It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”

“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”

Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one. 

“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”

“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”

Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk. 

You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return. 

“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”

“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”

He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”

“That is up to your cousin.”

“Touché.”

You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing. 

He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night. 

As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”

“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”

“He’s not even here to listen!”

“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”

A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. 

“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered. 

Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”

“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”

It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you. 

“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment. 

“Yes, sir. That is correct.”

“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”

You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.” 

You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them. 

“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”

Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…” 

Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away. 

“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.

Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip. 

You’d spoken to Draco’s parents. 

They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment. 

It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”

“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”

“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”

“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.” 

Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”

The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”

Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps. 

It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”

“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”

His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…

“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.

“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”

He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”

“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”

“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.

When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye. 

“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”

“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together. 

“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”

Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you. 

“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features. 

“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all. 

“‘We’?”

“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news. 

“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”

“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more. 

“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”

“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted. 

“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.

“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”

“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”

You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats. 

Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left. 

“Where are we going, Dray?” 

“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice. 

Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food. 

The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face. 

“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”

“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”

He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile. 

“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”

“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow. 

“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”

His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”

“You never gave me any other indication!” 

“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”

The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side. 

Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.

“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”

“Yes. I told her days ago.” 

“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”

As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”

“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”

“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”

“Blaise.”

“The bracelet?”

“Theo and the Notts.” 

At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”

“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”

“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Dray.” 

He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”

[rosicheeks]

What books do you think everyone should read?

Have you ever considered that octopi may be the best huggers?

What's the best sound? (Personally I say windchimes)

What is the best thing to dip pizza in?

Is Bigfoot was real, he might be, would he be hot?

-

Ngl I have not thought of that before 👀 I could see them being the best huggers……. Or just very slimy and slippery 😂

-

Oooo windchimes are so so lovely 🥰🥰🥰

In my opinion the best sound is a cappella music. Or even just choir music. Where different voice types come together and create beautiful harmonies 😍💖

-

I don’t typically dip my pizza in anything tbh

-

I meeeaaaaannnn I could see it 👀👀

I’m into tall and hairy people 🫣🤭

[beloveds-embrace]

╰┈➤ A Harbinger’s Claim

Spoilers for 5.1 Archon Quest, yandere capitano x reader

yan!capi x soldier!reader who used to idolize/adore him? 👀

Specifically, you used to be a black serpent knight who worked under him. From the very first day you met him, you could not help but admire him; such a strong, powerful man- worthy of being a commander, worthy of being loved and respected. Your crush on him, your own commander, had been visible to any and all that cared to look. And that included even him, as well. 

Though he never quite returned your feelings. all of your attempts at catching his attention fell flat. Your commander did not care for romance, and did not care for you beyond you being a knight under his command. Still, you persisted and tried your best again and again to earn his praise and affection- through always training, keeping spare food from your own rations for him, willing to do any and all tasks. 

And then, Khaenri'ah falls, and you get injured and cursed to a painful immortality. It's devastating, it's cruel and painful and you end up separating from your group, including your commander- never knowing what happens to him.  

Five hundred years pass in resentment and bitterness, then a bone-deep exhaustion and now... 

The wind howls over the desolate, forgotten battlefield, carrying with it memories of long-lost battles and fallen comrades. You stand among the remnants, staring at the tattered banner of a past era. The centuries have been cruel, not just to the land, but to you. You don't know why you came back here, yet you can't bring yourself to leave just yet. 

Your legs ache- a dull, persistent pain that has been your constant companion for centuries. The curse has worn you down, body and soul, until all that remains is a tired will to survive. You sigh and shift your weight, leaning heavily on the stone slab you were using to remain upright. There’s little left to fight for now. Just a hollow existence.

Then, you feel it- the heavy presence of someone behind you. It’s not the first time you’ve felt a presence like this, and for a brief moment, a flicker of recognition stirs in your chest. You turn slowly, your body heavy with exhaustion, and there he is. Once, he'd been your commander. Now, he is a Fatui Harbinger.

Capitano.

The man you once idolized, the commander you adored. But that was so long ago, so distant it feels like another lifetime. Now, the sight of him- tall, imposing, clad in the black armor- stirs nothing inside you but weariness. His mask is as dark and unreadable as the void, hiding every part of his face, giving no hint of the man beneath. The commander you knew is long gone, replaced by this Harbinger, cold and unrelenting. Even if certain traits still exist within him.

“You’ve come back,” you murmur, your voice barely louder than the wind.

His head tilts ever so slightly, the black mask making it impossible to see his eyes. Yet you can feel his gaze locked on you, weighing you down even more. Once, you would have given everything for such attention.

“I’ve come to claim you.” he replies, his voice deep and resonating from behind the mask. The sound of it is steady, almost indifferent, yet it carries an unsettling weight of finality. 

You don’t move, don’t resist. The fatigue that has plagued you for centuries sinks deeper into your bones. “Claim me?” you echo softly,  chuckling. “What’s left to claim, Capitano? There’s nothing here anymore. I hold no adoration for you anymore."

The mask remains still, impenetrable, yet his presence grows more suffocating as he steps closer. “You were always mine,” he says quiet yet resolute. “And you still are.”

You sigh, not out of fear, but of sheer exhaustion. The energy to fight him, to resist, just isn’t there anymore. “I’m not the same soldier I used to be, commander. That person’s long gone. You should leave me here, where I belong.”

But Capitano doesn’t leave. Instead, his gloved hand reaches out and grips your wrist, firm but not painful. You don’t pull away. You simply look at him, weary and resigned, watching as he brings out a ring, dark as his armor. You don’t ask why—your mind too clouded with fatigue to even care.

He slides the ring onto your finger, his voice low and steady. “This is your place, with me. You’ve wandered for too long.”

You look down at the ring. It's cold. “It’s been centuries, Capitano,” you say, your voice a whisper. “Do you really still think I belong to you?”

He pulls you closer, until you’re pressed against his chestplate, the harsh cold of his armor making you shiver. His masked face hovers above yours, unreadable, but his grip is firm, unyielding. “I never stopped thinking it,” he murmurs, voice deep and possessive. “You admired me once- more than anyone. That devotion is mine to keep.”

You don’t fight him. You can’t. The years have taken too much out of you. “That was a lifetime ago,” you sigh, resting your head lightly against his armor. “I’m not sure I even know who you are anymore.”

“Then I’ll remind you,” he says, his voice soft but filled with dark certainty. “You will stay with me. We will be wed, and you will never be alone again. Your suffering ends with me.”

For a moment, you close your eyes, letting the heavy weariness wash over you. Part of you wants to resist, to push him away. But the truth is, you’re tired- so tired. The centuries of pain and solitude have worn you down to the point where even the idea of fighting feels like too much. Capitano’s grip is cold, but it’s steady, and in that moment, you almost feel… relieved. You don’t want to admit it, but the thought of someone else taking control, of someone else carrying the weight you’ve been shouldering alone, is tempting. Especially if it's him.

“Is this really what you want?” you ask, though you already know his answer.

His arms tighten around you, drawing you in even closer. “It’s not just what I want,” he says, voice low. Unbending. “It’s what will be.”

He lifts you into his arms with ease, your body too tired to struggle, too worn to protest. You glance up at the dark mask once more, seeing nothing but the void where his face should be. And yet, for the first time in what feels like ages, you don’t feel completely alone.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

“Snezhnaya,” he answers, his tone firm and absolute. “My home. Where you belong.”

You let out a soft sigh, leaning into his chest, your body going limp in his hold. “I’m too tired to fight you, Capitano. I don’t think I care anymore.”

His response is unwavering. “You won’t need to fight. You’ll be with me now. I’ll take care of you.”

As he begins to walk, each step echoing the finality of your fate, you close your eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion. The world around you fades, and all you can feel is his steady, unrelenting presence. The future, dark and uncertain, is no longer your burden to bear. So what if your freedom is to be taken away?

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” you murmur faintly.

“I do,” Capitano replies, his masked face tilting down toward you, his voice calm yet possessive. If he holds you any tighter, the claws of his armor would dig into your skin. “You’re mine. That is all you need.”

And as the cold winds of the battlefield sweep behind you, you let go of whatever fight you had left.

Part 2

[emmyrosee]

Sukuna hates how petty you can get when you’re fighting.

There is a part of him that loves your stubbornness, sure, like when you huff at him and make him work for your affection, but right now, you’re on day three of the silent treatment, and he’s losing it.

You enter a room and he’s already in it, you leave. You’re talking to yuuji and he comes in, you stop talking immediately. You haven’t been staying the night anymore, and you haven’t given him a kiss goodbye any time you’ve left. Even his ma is questioning what he did wrong, and he can’t give her a concrete answer.

He’s losing it.

Hes spammed texted you, he’s been trapping you in rooms by leaning in the doorframe, he’s been trying to get yuuji to be his messenger, but nothings working. You’re not biting.

“You’re over complicating this,” yuuji shakes his head and thumbing through channels. “Literally just apologize.”

“At this point I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for!”

“Well they’re on their way over, thinking you’re going to apologize, so you’d better figure it out.”

“You’ve been an immense help, thank you, asshole.”

As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door, and when Sukuna takes a deep breath and answers it, you nearly spin on your heel to leave.

“Oh I don’t think so,” he snips, grabbing your hand and pulling you in the house and trying not to focus on how you’re not even fighting against him, and that’s how indifferent you are to him. “We’re talking. Like it.”

“Hey dawg!” Yuuji cheers, clicking off the tv and waving. You wave back, your streak of not talking in front of Sukuna continuing. The younger chuckles, “I’ll let the adults duke it out. See ya!”

The room fills with silence as yuuji leaves, making Sukuna immensely uncomfortable. The way you’re looking at him has him uncomfortable, you’re making him so uncomfortable, and he just wishes you’d toss your pride to the side and talk to him and cuss him out or something.

“You look… good.”

Nothing.

“I’ve missed you.”

Nada.

“I made out with someone else because I got sick of you ignoring me.”

You scowl at him.

“Okay, I was lying. I was hoping you’d cuss me out.”

No dice.

“You’re acting like a fucking child!” He takes a deep breath in to try and ground himself, and you merely watch him with a hurt expression.

Okay. That didn’t help his situation.

“Fucks sake,” he grumbles, making a move to guide you backwards. He’s got you backed into a wall, hands on your shoulders while your arms stay nonchalantly crossed.

“I don’t get why you’re so mad at me; what did I even do?” He snaps, leaning close to your face threateningly.

You blink unamused.

Oh.

You’re gonna speak alright. He’s gonna make sure of it.

“Speak.”

You merely look him up and down and turn your head.

“Talk! Now!”

You let a tired exhale through your nose pass.

“I said i was sorry, and i know you know that was hard for me, why am i still being punished by you?” It’s bait to make you mad and talk, he knows he hasn’t apologized to the most sincere of his ability, but he hasn’t done anything wrong.

“Maybe I’ll tickle ya, how about that?”

That, does, have your eyes widening but you still don’t spare him a breath. He smirks, “I’d bet you’d hate that, huh? Holding in all that laughter and begs for me to stop, knowing I’m not going to until you talk to me… and I’ll do it too. You know that.”

You merely cross your arms over your chest tighter.

He shrugs, “you asked for it.”

And he’s gotta say, he’s impressed with how little you’re fighting back from him scooping you in his arms and tossing you on the couch, straddling you, even taking your two wrists in his massive paw and holding them above your head. Your lips wobble in anticipation, and he’s got you booked now. “Any last words? A quick ‘I hate you,’ maybe?”

You blink, bored, almost calling his bluff, and he comes up to smack his face in frustration. He wasn’t actually bluffing, he did have full intentions of making you scream, but he was so sure you’d crack under his gaze, even a quick kick to him as he was adjusting your body.

No dice.

With a shrug, hands come down quickly to tickle the meat of your ribs, settling in the dips and scratching at the bones maddeningly. He sees your lip become wobblier, and he smirks down at you. “Nothing? Not even a giggle? You must be pissed at me.”

You screw your eyes shut to ignore him and he clicks his tongue, “now you can’t even look at me? That sucks.”

He leans down to nibble at your neck and ear, whispering little words against your skin to make you squeak. But it isn’t until he cheats and uses his mouth to blow a raspberry on your sensitive neck, an area he’s so used to pressing loving kisses to, that you finally crack.

“YOURE SO CHEAP!” You scream, followed by a flurry of laughter and struggling from his tight hold. Your laugh is whiny and desperate, feet digging into the couch while his fingers merely slither up and under your arms.

He smirks against your skin, “gotcha.”

“Fuck off!” You squeal, tugging as hard as you can in his grasp. “Stohop it!”

“Are you gonna keep ignoring me?” He asks. You shake your head back and forth, but he cocks a brow. “Is that a no? Are we going to talk about your issues with me, or am I going to have to tickle you for the next few hours?”

“HOURS?!” You howl.

He shrugs, “you ignored me for three days, least I deserve is to tickle you until you sob.”

“I wasn’t-“ you’re cut off by a flurry of your own giggles. “This isn’t-“ a few more yowls of your laughter when he digs in more. “FUCK OFF!”

“Nah,” he snickers. “This is more fun.” He does, however, stop his torment and pulls back, but he does look down at you impatiently. “Speak,” he echos from earlier.

You let out a few more titters slip past your lips, but you do sober up slightly, “you don’t even care that I was mad at you.”

“Uh, I was about to tickle you until you died, I think I cared too much-“

“No, Sukuna. You just didn’t want me to be mad. You never apologized and you never even bothered to try and make it better…”

This, oddly, has Sukuna’s heart twisting, squeezed with emotions and realization that he did mess up, pride couldn’t save him now and if he wanted to fix this, he’d have to prove it.

He sighs in truce, “I’m sorry, babe.”

“….”

“What?”

“That’s it?”

He rolls his eyes, “what else do you want me to say?”

“I want you to care that I was hurt!” You whine, raising on your elbows. “I want you to understand I was hurt, that you messed up! Not be so prideful and not admit it!”

“Alright, alright, jeez,” he groans. He locks eyes with you, and he knows you’re not going to like it, but he leans down to kiss you, using his two hands to cup your jaw, letting his thumbs stroke your bone lovingly. “I’m sorry. It must’ve sucked having to deal with my shitty ass apologies before. I never should’ve pulled that shit, and I hated not having you by my side.”

This, has you softening.

He presses another kiss to you, “I missed your laughter. I missed you scolding me. I missed you being sarcastic… don’t pull that silent treatment shit again, will ya?”

You hum happily, “don’t piss me off and I won’t have to.”

He blinks unamused, and as the thought of tickling you again crosses his mind, you lean up to kiss his lips giggling softly in the warmth. “I’m kidding. You and I both know you’re not going to stop pissing me off.”

“Love when you answer your own demands,” he chuckles.

The tightness in his soul loosens as you submit to his affections, and he does make a mental note to never piss you off so bad again where you go back to happy to never talk to him again. He hates it more than even he knows, drags him down and he feels like he’s missing a crucial part of himself.

But it is good to know he can get you back out of that funk.

[uronlywon]

INTENTIONAL OR UNINTENTIONAL? ; drabble ➤ overstimulation with hyung line + jungwon . . .

pairing .ᐟ hyung line + jungwon x afab!reader

contains .ᐟ dom!heeseung, soft dom!jay, dom!jake, mean dom!sunghoon, dom!jungwon, jay being husband material at the end, sunghoon being down right mean

warnings .ᐟ MINORS DNI, porn without plot, overstimulation, use of pet names (pretty, baby, love), riding (heeseung), praising (heeseung + jake), mentions of dacryphilia (sunghoon), jealous sex (jungwon), lmk if there’s more

vee's note .ᐟ i wrote this in about 2 hours at 4am (finished 6am)  so if some parts don’t make sense, i’m sorry. feel free to tell me if there are any parts that i could improve a bit :D also you can kind of tell where my creativity plummets lmaoo

total wc .ᐟ [ 0.8k ]　　other works . . . masterlist ; read more !

LEE HEESEUNG (이희승) — intentional

I feel like Heeseung is the type to make you overstimulate yourself. You’d be riding him, and after your first orgasm, he’d tell you to keep going, “C’mon, pretty. Keep moving those hips f’me,” he’d say. Listening to his orders, you’d make an attempt to continue moving your hips on him, but due to the sensitivity you gained, your attempt was quite pathetic. “H..Hee, I can’t– ‘m tired..”, you whine, halting your movements to a stop. I just know he’d laugh at how fucked out you. “Tired? You were just fine a minute ago, baby,” he teases, brushing the hair sticking to your face out of the way. “That’s fine, pretty, that’s why I’m here,” Heeseung continues, placing his warm hands on either side of your hip bones. “You look so gorgeous like this, Y/n. Could have you on my cock all day,” He would coo and end up moving your hips for you. ”That’s it, taking me so well, hm?”

━━━━━

other members ⬇️

PARK JONGSEONG (박종성) — intentional / unintentional

I’m a little bit on the fence for Jay. I can see him overstimulating you both intentionally and unintentionally in the same fuck session. He’d start off intentionally, pushing you a bit after your first orgasm, “Sorry, love, just a little bit more–”, he’d say this because he was trying to reach his own high, but to do that, you’d have to hang on a little longer. Passing that, he wouldn’t realise you’ve already had enough, making it to the point where you have to tell him to stop, “Ha-.. Jay! Can’t take anymore!”. I feel like he just wouldn’t realise how many more times you’ve came after the first time, if that makes sense, “Ah fuck– I’m sorry Y/n.” In the end Jay would apologise and give you literally the best aftercare. He’d always wipe you clean with a damp towel and run a warm bath for you. “You okay now? Does it hurt anywhere?” Jay would question, peppering you in soft kisses.

━━━━━

SIM JAEYUN (심재윤) — unintentional

Jake would be too lost in pleasure to realise you’d have already come. The man is like a dog in heat, not even kidding, “Fuuck Y/n, you f..feel so fucking good.” He’s the type to just continuously praise you while you fuck, which is partially the reason why he wouldn’t take notice of your desperate pleas for him to slow down. “Sensitive– Jake… Jake! P-please slow-..” You’d say, but he’s so busy praising you whilst he pounds into your used hole. It would take him a while to realise you’ve been begging him to tone it down a little, only realising when he feels the sensation of your nails digging deep into the flesh on his shoulders. “Oh god, I’m so fucking sorry, baby, I-I didn’t mean to hurt you,” He’d say after realisation hits, and he would continuosly apologise to you over and over again. “Y/n, I’m sorry about before–” “I already told you that I’m fine, Jake,” You’d laugh.

━━━━━

PARK SUNGHOON (박성훈) — intentional

Let’s be real, Sunghoon is the cruellest one out of everyone. He will definitely overstimulate you on purpose, and he isn’t even sorry about it, “Yeah– There you go Y/n, such a good little slut f’me, huh?” Sometimes, it would get so bad that you would be crying and begging him to stop, “Mmn! ‘t’s a..a lot, too much– Ah!~ Hoonie!”. To be honest, I think he has a little dacryphilia. Just watching your tears streaming down your pretty face turns him on. He would coo and mock your begs, degrading you in the process, “You’re already crying? I’ve only made you come twice, how pathetic are you?” Sunghoon just seems like the type to be really mean during sex, dismissing all your begging and just continuing to fuck you into oblivion “N-no more Sunghoon, please!” “Who’s Sunghoon? I only know Hoonie. You’ll take whatever the fuck I give you.”

━━━━━

YANG JUNGWON (양정원) — intentional

Jungwon would sooo do it intentionally, and we all know that he is in fact a jealous guy based on the questions fans asked at fansigns. He’d have you pressed into the mattress of your shared bed after seeing you all over one of your guy friends, “You don’t touch your friends like that, huh?” He asked you, driving you to your 3rd orgasm of the night. Jungwon isn’t a mean dom, but I can see him intimidating you with his words. “Won ‘m sorry, p-please s-stop I can’t.. Can’t do another–” You’d apologise, then he’d scoff at you and start saying things in between thrusts. “Oh so now you’re sorry?” Thrust. “You sure didn’t seem sorry when you were all over that guy’s arm, yeah?” Thrust. “Surely you can give me another, Y/n. Isn’t that right? Thrust. He wasn’t going to falter, no matter how much you apologised or begged him to. “I-I really am sorry! A-ahn!”

LIKES ONLY GO SO FAR ! IF YOU LIKE IT, REBLOG IT.

©𝘶𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺𝘸𝘰𝘯, 2024 𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘙𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛𝘚 𝘙𝘌𝘚𝘌𝘙𝘝𝘌𝘋 | 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺, 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘦, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘥

[fakeuwus]

MANEATER | SIM JAEYUN (M)

PAIRING: virgin!jake x yn (femreader)

SYNOPSIS: in which jake is tired of being a virgin and you're asked to help him out.

WARNINGS: smut so MDNI! vrignity loss, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe out there), creampie, riding, multiple orgasms, etc. cursing, words like slut/whore, BARELY PROOFREAD

WC: 5k, lowercase intended

MESSAGE FROM NIC: here it finally is!! (sorry for the delay) my first piece of smut,,, hope it's what everyone imagined 😁 (also tysm for 2k notes on the teaser ahh!!) big thank u to my stella, @karinasbaby for encouraging this fic, one of my biggest supporters ilysm. pls be kind as this is something new for me BUT feedback is super appreciated, tell me what u liked and didn't like! (respectfully) also reblogs would be nice as well so feel free to drop one. love u guys sm 🫶🏼

jake sim was a virgin. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. and it’s not like he was ugly. not even close to that. jake was an attractive guy, easy on the eyes. and his flirting? a real smooth talker he was.

it was as if 2000s chad michael murray possessed his very soul every single time he would chat up a girl at a party or in class. 

so why couldn't he ever close the deal? how did he find himself in a steamy makeout session one second and then the next the girl is storming out of the room in disgust. every. single. time.

oh yea, because he was a fucking virgin. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. 

it seemed like girls these days wanted a man in charge. someone who could help them live out their fifty shades of grey fantasies. jake would like to think he could do that for them but how could he ever learn if no one wanted to give him the time of day? what happened to the girls that would spread their legs for anything and anyone?

all jake needed was one chance. one chance to stick his dick in a hole and he can move on with his life. 

his friends didn't make it any better either. he was getting tired of hearing all about their wild sexcapades every week and having nothing to contribute to the conversation.

but they don’t intentionally leave him out or make him feel bad about his lack of experience. they even try getting him with their past hookups because you know, sharing is caring right? 

“dude no way you fumbled sora. she’s a real slut i was so sure she would let you hit,” sunghoon says as he’s unwrapping his sandwich then taking a bite. “bro i didn't fumble anything. it's the same shit every time, once i tell them im a virgin they dip,” jake responds while he steals sunghoon’s sandwich and takes a bite for himself.

sunghoon doesn't even argue, his best friend is clearly in distress and is need of some food. “she started ranting about how she doesnt “do” virgins because they get attached and she thinks im gonna become obsessed with her or something.”

“why do you even tell them you’re a virgin in the first place? if that's the issue why even say anything at all?” heeseung questions with a mouth full of the same sandwich that somehow now ended up in his hands.

“because if he cums in .2 seconds then the girls are gonna think he’s a bad fuck. there's no winning here.” jake nods in agreement with jay's statement as he watches jay snatch the sandwich from heeseung and finish it off.

this is what is so beautiful about their friendship. they share everything with each other, the main things being girls and food. unfortunately for jake, bites of food is all he gets.

—-----------------

“oh fuck!” jakes pants while bucking his hips forward. vision blurry, drool pooling around the corner of his mouth. he genuinely feels like his soul is leaving his body and he wasn’t sure this was even real life anymore. to ground himself and bring him back to reality, he tries looking around the room to find something to distract him.

he doesn’t want to cum embarrassingly fast and he does NOT want to be seen as a bad fuck. out of the corner of his eye he spots a baby yoda squishmallow in the corner of the room, its sparkly eyes watching jake get his dick sucked for the first time.

it’s kind of weird but he finds comfort in the plushie and focuses on it to keep him from fucking exploding. 

now you might be wondering how he got here. in a hot girl’s room getting what he swears is the best head in his life (not that he has anything to compare it to.) the answer is jay, his best friend in the entire world who he now owes his first born to. 

“her name’s yn. just text her and ask when she wants to meet. i told her you were a virgin already so don’t worry about that,” jay explains as he’s scrolling through your profile showing jake what you look like.

silky, flowy hair, curves to die for. to say you’re gorgeous would be an understatement. the whole ordeal seemed too good to be true.

“she wants to fuck me? even after hearing i’m a virgin?” jake asks after grabbing his milk tea from the counter and walking towards a table.

jay simply nods and throws a look towards sunghoon, signaling him to explain the rest as they all take a seat. “yea that’s kind of her thing. she loves virgins. like, her body count consists of only virgins.”

jake was perplexed by the situation. surely he’d hear about a beautiful woman who only drops her panties for inexperienced guys roaming their campus.

heeseung then speaks up, as if reading jake’s mind, “she goes to the college in the next town over. around a 20 minute drive.” before continuing his sentence he shifts his eyes towards jay and sunghoon. eyeballs darting back and forth.

some unspoken dialogue is happening between the three as they sip their sweet drinks and jake just has to sit there and watch. minutes go by and jay clears his throat and sighs, finally breaking the silence.

“she uh, actually took all of our virginities back in high school. that’s how we know her.” 

pause. the fuck? he knew his friends all have gotten their dicks wet for the same girl before but at the same time? jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. i mean, he did only just meet them three years ago, whatever they were up to before then he can’t judge.

he supposes desperate times call for desperate measures, and jake is sure he would’ve ended up in the same situation soon if they weren’t handing you on a silver platter to him.

“so… you guys had a foursome for your first times??”

heeseung instantly chokes on his boba as jake’s arm receives a punch from jay. a faint giggle is heard from sunghoon, “this bitch is choking on some balls.”

ignoring heeseung’s dramatics jay clarifies, “no you idiot, she took all of our virginities separately. we weren’t as desperate as you were.”

“and like, that pussy is so heavenly. i’d be pissed having to share her with another guy at the same time.” 

“roger that, brother.”

jake looks towards the two, sunghoon rubbing heeseung’s back trying to calm him down from his almost near death over some balls. 

“care to elaborate?” 

“man why do you think we’re all sex crazed freaks? her pussy’s got some voodoo magic in it or something. our manhood didn’t begin when we watched porn for the first time together, it started with her,” jay pauses and shifts in his seat, slight discomfort in his lower region.

he looks up and pinches his nose, “fuck i’m getting hard just thinking about it.” sneaking a peek at jay’s lower half, jake can see his friend chubbing it up in his pants. nothing he’s never seen before honestly. 

but what he hadn't seen before was how his friends were reminiscing so hard on a hook up the way they were right now. and the fact that their origin story of discovering their high libidos is all because of you? he was scared shitless of what he was about to get himself into.

-------------------

fast forward to some exchanged texts between you guys, jake found himself in your room with his pants around his ankles getting the life sucked out of him.

he quickly discovered you were very straightforward and to the point, immediately sending him your apartment address and what time to show up.

jake couldn’t argue though, all this talk about how you were gonna “change his life” and shit got him real worked up. he appreciated the fact that you skipped the small talk and went straight for his dick.

upon arriving and stepping into your living space, your lips smashed onto his and he was pushed down onto the bed. no hi, no hello. just your lucious, full lips swapping spit with his.

his hands instinctively flew to your waist, his digits gripping your plush skin as you straddle him. jake felt so in his element in the moment. making out? this is where he excels. he could do this all day if he could.

but he was here on a mission and he’ll be damned if he leaves without fucking you. or you fucking him. he was honestly down for whatever. you could ask to peg him and he would say yes.

you can sense his impatience, his face twisting in pleasure trying to savor every moment while the cogs are turning in his head, awaiting your next move. every squeeze he gave signaled that he wanted to get things moving.

you make your way down his body, peppering kisses any and everywhere leaving his skin burning. jake couldn’t believe what was about to happen.

in less than a minute he was about to get his first blowjob ever. what does he do? where do his hands go? what if he chokes you? what if he passes out from the stimulation?

before he can think of anymore what to do’s and what if’s, your mouth is on his dick and jake is seeing stars, figuratively and literally. he takes note of the little ones taped to your ceiling and thinks it’s cute.

the pink walls and plushies surrounding the two of you is such a stark contrast to your personality, or what little jake knows of you. but hey, he likes a woman with some duality to her.

“you can put your hands in my hair.”

jake finally takes a look down at you. pupils blown out, lips a bit swollen from all the sucking. you looked so, so pretty like this. he can only imagine what you look like with his cock in you.

trembling hands grab at your hair, slightly pushing you further down and a gagging noise emerges from the back of your throat. oh shit. your nose is practically meeting his pelvic bone and you aren’t letting up.

fuck it, jake thinks to himself. he was done with being patient. he starts fucking up into your mouth relentlessly, chasing the orgasm he was delaying. and you just let him.

you’re merely a hole for him in this moment and you could care less. his dick may be average in size but the girthiness of it was so delicious, you couldn’t get enough.

to make sure he reaches his high, you reach for his balls and start playing with them. his erratic thrusts combined with you squeezing his genitals he twitches in your mouth and his cum is shooting out, pooling out the sides of your lips.

and you don’t stop there. you keep going and going and jake actually feels like he’s going to pass out. “okay, okay please please!” you swallow everything he gave you and finally let him go with a pop to come up for air.

you get up and see him lying there on your bed, unmoving. eyes closed and mouth agape barely taking breaths. one might think he’s dead but this was typical.

once a guy gets to cum in a girl’s mouth for the first time they don’t know what to do with themselves. nudging him with your knee he breaks out of his trance with a lopsided smile adorning his face. god he’s adorable.

before you can suggest a break he immediately grabs you by the hips and flips you onto your back. your shorts go flying onto the floor behind him and he spreads your legs wide to prop them onto his shoulders.

his tongue immediately attaches to your clit and he starts licking you all over. slurping and sucking, as if this was his last meal on earth. he was desperate to get you to cum the way you made him and it was showing.

jake’s eating you out a little too expertly to your liking, as if he’s done this a million times. you won’t judge if he has, you’re literally the last person to judge someone’s sexual history but how is he still a virgin if he eats pussy this good?

he must’ve been met with horrible women who just used him for his mouth and left him dry. you wouldn’t do that to him though, poor guy doesn’t deserve that.

he inserts two fingers into your hole while his mouth was still working your clit. jesus christ. you didn’t notice before but his fingers were so slender and long, reaching places your own didn’t. “am i doing okay? kind of my first time.”

oh? so this was his first time eating pussy. you simply give him a nod of approval, not being able to utter a word as he dives right back in.

in all of your sexual encounters, never has there been a guy so willing to return the favor. and the fact that you didn’t even have to ask? where the fuck did jay find a guy like this? was he aware his friend was a fucking certified munch?

determined to make sure you cum, jake inserts another finger and moves his fingers in an upward motion, trying to find your spot. at least that’s what wikihow told him how to do it.

the sound of your moans and the taste of your pussy on his tongue simply feel amazing and he feels like he could come alone like this. at this point you’re panting and riding his fingers and god it’s so hot. you’re so hot.

jake finds himself humping into the mattress, trying to aid his painful hard on he’s grown since going down on you.

his wrist begins to ache with how fast he’s pumping into you but he doesn’t give a fuck, he’ll do anything to see what you look like when you reach your high.

“oh god, i’m, i’m- ahhh!” you come undone onto his mouth and hand, lips forming an o shape with the most pornographic moan he’s ever heard and he silently releases his load along with you onto the bed.

jake makes sure every single drop of your delicious juices are all licked up, driving your oversensitivity.

“so? how was i?”

you take a look at his annoyingly cute face and he’s licking all over his fingers like a lollipop. cute. gaining some of your composure, your eyes spot a wet spot on your sheets.

“wait, did you…”

“oh. sorry about that. i couldn’t help it.” jake explains with a sheepish smile and a scratch behind his head. not only is this guy a munch but he came untouched while tongue fucking you. you weren’t even sure guys like him existed, like at all.

without speaking another word, you grab the back of his neck and smash your lips onto his. tasting yourself on him has you wet all over again and you both begin to undress each other.

you detach yourself to take your shirt off and he pauses to fully look at you, drinking in every inch of your body. hands grab at your boobs and he pinches a nipple, a small moan escaping your mouth.

your body was literally to die for, the pictures on your profile barely doing you justice. and to finally be able to feel all around your curves and give your boods and ass tight squeezes was a dream come true for jake.

(he may or may not have been jerking off to the few posts you have up, counting down the days of you guys finally meeting but you didn’t have to know that)

you also took a moment to admire his body. to say jake was sculpted like a fucking greek god was an understatement, sporting a six pack and biceps to die for. veins running all over his arms and hands.

deciding it’s finally time to do the deed, you switch positions and motion for him to lay on his back. “are you ready?”

“wait! what about a condom?”

“i’m clean and i know you are so…”

“right.”

you throw your legs over his waist, now straddling him with your vagina inches from his cock. “okay, take deep breaths. i’m gonna slowly go down alright?”

jake throws a thumbs up and eagerly nods. in a moment like this he doesn’t fail to be endearing. you could literally just eat him up with how cute he was. your pussy was about to anyway.

you lace your fingers with his and slowly lower yourself onto him. there’s some intimacy with your actions and jake finds comfort in your eyes, looking at him adoringly.

it was finally fucking happening and jake couldn’t believe it. he was about to become a man. and the fact that it was you taking his virginity, a gorgeous woman who doesn’t care that he’s inexperienced and lets him hit it raw. it's really all he can ask for.

once your walls are wrapped around his tip, jake’s a goner. the little sweet moment you two shared is thrown out the window and he starts bucking his hips up into you, hard and fast.

his hands find purchase on your hips and he’s gripping them so hard you're sure there will be bruises tomorrow. you wanted to start out slow as it is his first time but it seems his thrusting says otherwise.

you press your hands against his chest and begin to move rhythmically in sync with him. jake’s eyes immediately roll back and his breathing quickens.

his hands fall to his side and he lays lifeless beneath you, letting you take full control.

all he could do was stare at the spot where his dick entered you and it was making him even more hornier. he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began.

your wetness didn’t help anything either. the squelching sounds indicated that you were very much enjoying this as much as he was.

“fuck you feel so good baby,” jake moans. the pet name that slips past his lips and it doesn’t go unnoticed but you also don’t question it.

for some reason the simple word made your heart jump. guys always called things like babe or even whore when they really let loose.

those never got to your head, you know they couldn’t really control themselves in the moment and you let them have their fun.

but jake has been nothing but kind to you this whole time, like he knew you were doing him a service and not the other way around.

this only fueled your desire to ensure that his sure first time exceeded his expectations so upped your menstrations. you quickly changed your pace to grind forward, backwards, and in circles making sure his dick felt every inch of you.

jake’s mind was reeling, his breath caught in his throat. he feels as if his dick was about to fall off with the way you were moving.

your body leans forward and you begin to kiss at his neck, leaving hickeys everywhere. your hot breath near his ear sends him into overdrive, must be a sensitive spot of his he never knew he had, but also how could he have known?

his hands that were once gripping the sheets meet your ass and he starts to guide you up and down his cock. you both were about to reach your climaxes, your pussy clenching with every move.

“i’m- where? fuck! where do i cum?”

“inside. cum inside me please.”

inside?? his first time cumming from sex and you were gonna let him do it inside of you? jake swears you couldn’t be any more perfect than you are right now.

you knew you threw him for a loop and honestly yourself as well. pushing these thoughts towards the back of your head you start riding him aggressively, even faster than before. “fuck, jake i’m cumming!”

“me too baby oh my god!”

and there was that damn pet name again. it makes your heart leap out of your chest and sends you over the edge.

the knot in your stomach snaps and jake follows shortly after, his load shooting into you. it pools out of you and you don’t hesitate to swipe some up with a delicate finger and bring it to your mouth, mirroring his actions from earlier.

your eyes meet his fucked out ones and you smile down at him, admiring the masterpiece of lovebites you left all over him. his vision was a bit blurry but he catches the way your lips curled upward, flashing your pearly whites.

jake finds himself instantly becoming hard again, call him easy but when a pretty girl is smiling at him like that after fucking him, can you really blame him?

you move yourself off of him and jake was fully expecting you to kick him out now but instead you position yourself on all fours, your ass in the air inviting him in.

“fuck. you’re into anal?”

you turn your head sharply to look at him over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow to question what he just said. the look you give him says it all and jake takes the hint and positions himself behind you.

“can we try anal next time though?”

an exasperated sigh leaves your lips and you reach over to grab his dick, inserting him into you. “umph! okay sorry.”

upon entering your pussy, jake relishes in the feeling of it. being inside your heat again leaves him breathless for the nth time today.

in and out. in and out. he tries to match his breathing with his gradual strokes. his member is extra sensitive right now and he’s trying not to lose himself. the impatience he had earlier has now moved onto you so you decide to take matters into your own hands and start fucking back into him.

your ass is now meeting his hips and the sound of skin slapping echoes in your room along with your moans. jake’s body is flailing from the sudden impact but he grounds his hands around your waist and grips the shit out of you.

he notices bruises forming on your skin but he can’t for the life of him let go. oops. he’ll do his best to remember to apologize for them tomorrow.

when there’s a good pace between the two of you, you fling yourself upward, back meeting his chest and the new angle has him reaching spots he didn’t before.

you take one of his strong arms and place it around your neck, having him choke you as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow. jake’s brain begins to turn to mush and he feels like he’s even more turned on at the revelation of one of your kinks.

and at this point you’re fucking onto him so hard, so good, he didn’t want it to end. “shit. shit. i love your pussy so much baby.” jake whines into your ear, meaning every word he said.

is it crazy to say you love someone upon meeting them for the first time? well, their pussy. yea. maybe. but who gives a fuck.

he was a man possessed by you, by your pussy. in this moment he truly believed there was some voodoo magic going on down there and he was blessed to be experiencing it.

you clench at his words, and your heart flips once more, prompting you to draw him closer to you (if that was even remotely possible)

the closeness of your bodies creates another intimate moment shared, kisses stolen from one another, hands tangled in his hair.

“i’m close,” he whispers in your ear, his breath leaving tingles down your spine. the hushed whispers you exchange contrast the sporadic thrusting that’s happening.

determined to reach your second high of the day, you push jake onto his back and settle yourself onto your knees, continuing to bounce up and down on his cock.

“yea just like that baby, shit shit shit i’m cumming, i’m cumming!”

jake opens his eyes to watch the scene unfold before him and god was it something. your back arches as you take his cum in you once more and your screams fill his ears, signaling you orgasmed right after him.

this moment alone is better than porn itself, and jake savors every bit of it. there’s absolutely no way he can even bring himself to type “nsfw” in his twitter search bar ever again after this.

you hover yourself over him leaving just the tip inside before sliding right back down, pushing his seed back in while it gushes around his cock leaving jake wanting, no needing, a third round with you.

but to his dismay you roll yourself off of his body, landing on the mattress next to him.

“so… how do you feel?”

he releases a long exhale he didn’t know he was holding, “fantastic. 10/10 experience. would do it again.” you simply giggle at his response with a shake of your head, getting up to gather your clothes.

“wait! um, could we do this again?”

you playfully roll your eyes at him, leaving his question unanswered as you begin to dress yourself.

—-----------------

sat in his computer chair, jake is finding it difficult to finish this stupid ethics assignment. how is he supposed to argue about the death penalty when you straight up almost murdered him with your pussy less than 2 hours ago?

he’s sure his professor wouldn’t appreciate if he wrote that he doesn’t give a fuck about someone serving their punishment if the culprit was you, but honestly speaking he’d let you get away with just about anything. you were an angel sent from above to him who could do no wrong. 

the way your soft lips wrapped around his cock while your innocent (not) eyes bored into his soul. the way you licked and kissed every single inch of his body, leaving nothing left untouched. and god, the way you worked his dick? how was he supposed to move on from you??

you were an insatiable, sex-crazed goddess. a once in a lifetime experience he was so grateful to have. 

his thoughts are interrupted by a loud knocking at his door. two seconds later, jay trails into jake’s room followed by dumb and dumber, all of them having a snug look on their faces.

they make themselves comfortable before they get right into the interrogation. jay leans against the desk, sunghoon sits in the bean bag situated in the corner, and heeseung sprawls himself across the bed.

“so virgin, how was it?”

 “wasn’t i right about her pussy?” 

“where did she make you cum?” 

eyes rolling in the back of his head, jake takes a deep sigh before answering their questions. “one, i’m not a virgin anymore so stop calling me that. two, it was absolutely fucking amazing. literally would give up heaven for it. and three, she had me cum in her. twice.”

heeseung shoots up from his position, jaw dropped and eyes wide. “you came in her twice?!” the boys all share a bewildered expression on their faces, dramatic as always.

jake just shrugs at them, what? didn’t you usually let guys cum in you like the freak you were?

jay slaps his hands down on jake’s shoulders, aggressively turning the computer chair towards him. “jake. buddy. yn has two rules.” 

sunghoon suddenly appears on jay’s left, “one. you can’t cum in her. you can cum anywhere BUT inside of her.” 

heeseung follows and is now on jay’s right side, “and two. she doesn’t repeat fuck.”

immediately following this revelation there’s silence.  complete and utter silence.  the gazes they hold are intense and uninviting. as if they truly couldn’t believe you let their best friend who’s never felt the touch of a woman break one of your rules.

their eyes say it all, they love jake to death and are happy for him, like seriously happy and relieved he’s finally entered manhood. but really? none of them got to do what he did? what was so special about him?

you don’t even know the answer to those questions yourself. maybe it was the puppy eyes or his whiny moans that made you feel like you had him in the palm of your hands.

his eagerness to pleasure you but to also receive reminded you of the sole purpose of why you only go for virgins. they made you feel wanted while also letting you be in charge. call it selfishness but why can’t a girl have the best of both worlds? 

and you’d never admit it, but jake was one of the best fucks you’ve had in a while. he never tried to be someone he wasn’t, just authentically himself. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. and he was proud of it.

it was refreshing to fuck someone who didn’t have some sort of ego right after you were done with them. immediately bragging to everyone what you two did and acting like they could pull any girl as if you weren’t doing charity work for most of them. 

with all of this in mind, of course you let him cum in you. he was doing so well for you, how could you not reward him? had to let him do it twice to drive it home.

and seriously, what kind of guy gives you a tender, sweet goodbye kiss and thanks you for defiling him? you didn’t regret your decisions with him but they were definitely scaring you. 

never have you ever been this intimate with a guy, but jake was different. you felt it. and what you did next didn’t scare you as much as your recent choices with him.

*ping!*

the staredown between jake and his friends comes to a halt and he digs his phone out of his pocket to check it. sliding up, he sees the message appear on his screen:

you: are you free tomorrow?

he glances at his friends’ expectant eyes and throws them a smirk. looks like he gets to break that second rule of yours. 

© fakeuwus 2024 do not repost, translate, or plagiarize

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[luveline]

hotch sister idea-- convincing hotch to take you out to dinner with the whole team because you "want to properly meet his friends" (i'm a sucker for team dynamics) but then being shy and cute with spencer the entire time to the point that hotch notices and gets a tad protective...but ends with spencer getting her number or something

thank you for requesting 💌 —you attend a party with your older brother in a not so secret plight to see Dr. Reid. You fawn, Spencer flusters, and Hotch drinks a tad more than usual. fem, 2.3k

cw for mentions of past child abuse

The car is quiet besides the tread of the tires on asphalt. You click and unclick the clasp of your shoulder bag, checking for your purse, getting worried your purse isn’t in there, and checking again.

“If there’s something you want to ask me, you can ask me.”

You move your gaze to your brother. His quietness can make you nervous, a reflection of your father but with none of the cruelty. “I don’t want you to get mad at me if it’s stupid.”

“Well, I won’t. I promise.”

You know he won’t, but sometimes the fear remains. Even when you’re far from being a kid. “Do you remember when I got suspended for, um, disrespectful behaviour? My senior year?”

Aaron turns the wheel with care. “I do.”

“And we went for ice cream.”

“Yeah, honey, I remember.”

That’s the point you’re trying to make, maybe. That tenderness sewn into the middle of his sentence. If your dad knew you’d been suspended again he would’ve made you feel it. You remember the sinking sensation in your chest waiting for him to pick you up, having written the speech he’d give you in the car ride home in your head ten times over, the sting of his palm grazing your cheek before you’d even seen his hand. So you waited in a total violent panic, head rush, wondering if anything was worth anything, when Aaron arrived to pick you up.

How did you know? you’d asked.

I changed your emergency contact. I hope that’s okay.

“You asked me what I wanted and…”

What flavour did you want, honey? he’d asked. Honey, like he loved you, the only person in the whole world who’d bother asking. The only man who’d take you for ice cream at seventeen years old to cure a bad day.

“And you burst into tears,” Aaron says.

He’d sat down opposite you in his suit, torn from one of his trials, and you can’t remember anymore if he was an attorney or already in the FBI, but you can’t forget how he’d taken your wrists into his hands and asked you not to cry.

“When you took me home, Haley asked me if you’d upset me, and I didn’t know how to explain it so you said yes. And she shouted at you for a whole half hour.”

“Why are you thinking about this now?” he asks.

Maybe because college is over and you’re forced to move on. Aaron asked you to try hard and you have, but now you have your degree and you don’t know what to do with it, you’ll get a job, and then what?

“I’ve been thinking about… my love life.”

“Oh. And you have to talk about this with me?” he jokes.

“I don’t have anybody else.”

He tears his gaze from the windshield. “That’s not true.”

“But…”

He turns into the parking lot outside of Dan’s Fine Wine Bar and pulls into a tight space with ease. He hesitates before he flicks off the engine, turning to you with a smile. “You’ll always have me,” he says, “and we can talk about your love life. I want to. God knows you’ve heard enough about mine this last year.” You both grimace. “But if I have to listen one more time to you talking about Spencer–”

“You said you wouldn’t get mad!”

“Honey.” He takes off his seatbelt and opens the door. “I’m not mad. But imagine your younger sibling comes to you one day to tell you they have feelings for your employee and try to find some sympathy for me!”

He clambers out of the car. You rush after him, unbuckling your seatbelt and nearly smashing your door into the car next to you. The air outside is cold, and you didn’t bring a jacket even though Aaron told you to twice, so you can’t mention it aloud. “I don’t have feelings for him.”

“You have a crush. You’re too old for it.”

“I am not.”

He gestures for you to walk in front of him as he clicks the fob for the car and the doors lock automatically. “I don’t understand what this has to do with your suspension.”

You chew on your cheek. Neon from the wine bar mottles your skin as you pass under it and through the door, air quickly turned from cold to temperate, the smell of old rain replaced by carpeting and beer. When you lift your head to his gaze, he’s still waiting for your answer. “You told me things wouldn’t be that hard forever. I was just wondering when it’s safe to say you were right.”

He grins at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to give you a rough hug. “Right now. Be happy right now, honey.”

“There they are!” Penelope calls from a table near the back. Suddenly, Aaron’s entire team of work colleagues stand up where they’ve dominated a whole row of tables and booths alike to greet you. “Oh my gosh, I missed you!”

You met Derek a long long time ago, and JJ around the same time, but everybody else is basically new. College was busy and Aaron busier —there was hardly ever time to visit, and when you did it was to see him and Haley. Meeting his friends was somehow put off.

You’ve since been introduced to Emily and Spencer, so Aaron directs you to David Rossi first. That’s the main team done quickly. But then he has to introduce you to Anderson, Sweeney, Kelly, Cory, Davidson, etc. So many agents for one man’s birthday. Anyone would think Derek Morgan was a celebrity.

“Happy birthday!” you say, when you finally get a moment to speak.

Derek reaches over the table to hug you quickly. “Thank you, gorgeous. We’re thrilled you’re here.” He pulls back, elbowing Penelope lovingly. “Aren’t we, mama?”

Penelope squeals and jumps for you. “So thrilled!”

Aaron touches your back, as if to say, I’m here, before taking a seat opposite Rossi. You hear snippets of a conversation about whiskey and when, but you’re distracted, because suddenly Penelope’s forcing you to sit down in her vacated seat, smack bang between Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.

Dr. Spencer Reid. “Hi,” you say quietly. Can’t help it. You remember how you’d reacted when you met him the week before last and wonder if it’s too late to pretend you’re cool —you’d gotten so worked up about him. He wrote a bunch of papers you had to read for your degree, some of the most sophisticated theory on elliptical math you’d ever read, and you’re supposed to act like he’s just a normal guy?

It doesn’t help that he’s model pretty. You’d never have thought of him as he is now over email, his huge brown eyes, pale skin, the flicking curl of his hair behind his ears. When he turns his head, he has indents on his nose from a pair of glasses you wish you’d seen. You clear your throat.

“Hi, Y/N, how are you?” Spencer asks.

“I’m gonna go get a drink now,” Aaron says. “What do you want?” he asks you.

“Um, anything. I don’t really wanna drink.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” he says with deliberateness.

You feel heat like a rash on your neck. He’s embarrassing you doing his dad routine.

“You look pretty,” Spencer says.

You hide your hands under your thighs. “You think so?”

“You look beautiful,” Penelope says from across the table.

“Didn’t inherit that Hotchner scowl,” Derek says with a grin, “I thought it came with the name.”

“I learned how to do it the day they signed the adoption certificate,” you nudge in, “I just keep it to myself. I think Aaron has it down.”

Everybody within hearing distance laughs at you, to your relief. To your left, Spencer’s shoe hits your heel.

“So weird to hear his real name,” Emily says, tipping her drink to the side, ice and sugar on the surface. “I thought for sure you’d have to call him Hotch too.”

You look around in surprise. “He can’t be that bad. Does he really frown so much?”

You’re told vehemently that your brother is a grump, which is something you were aware of, just not experienced in. Sure, he’s had his unhappy moments, no one can smile every second of the day, but if everyone is to be believed he’s the sternest man alive. Eventually things drift into storytelling. Aaron brings you your drink with a straw and a napkin wrapped around the base, and you find yourself listening to a graphic rehash of Derek’s first case with the BAU.

Spencer’s leg is a coal at your side.

Your self preservation runs out. “You don’t drink?” you ask, nodding to his glass bottle of coke.

“I– I never did. I never had the opportunity. I’ve never even been to a party.” He pauses. “I don’t know why I just told you that.”

“I didn’t go to parties either,” you say, overjoyed to find common ground so quickly.

“I mean, I was never invited, but highschool parties didn’t seem like my thing. And, you know, I was twelve.”

“You were twelve in highschool?”

He’s doing that thing you noticed the day you met, where his lips move before he’s ready to talk, his emotion clear. “You weren’t?” he asks, not quite smooth but enough to make you laugh suddenly.

“I wish! I could’ve been done with college years ago.” Your brows pinch together. “Wait, so did you go to college as a kid?”

“I mean, sort of.”

“What? No wonder you didn’t go to any parties, that must’ve been insane. When I was twelve I was still setting my Barbie’s up for dance parties. Aaron has a photo of me dressed up in mom’s old clothes.” You lean forward for a sip of your drink.

“Oh, don’t worry, there’s a photo of me just like that when I was twelve, too.”

You laugh so hard you almost choke.

A cup comes down hard somewhere behind your turned head.

“You okay?” Emily asks.

She wears a smirk you don’t understand, a joke you’ve missed. You peer past her to look to Aaron for advice and find him rather sullen, hand curled tightly around his drink. You try to give him a signal to ask if he’s alright, but it’s to no avail.

“I’m fine, sorry, just a joke.” You turn back to Spencer. “That’s adorable.”

You’re breathless talking to him. He must notice, but Spencer doesn’t say a word.

If someone asked you why he caught your attention, you’re not sure you know the answer. He’s pretty, undeniably, and it’s fascinating that you used his theory while you were in school, but fascination isn’t endless. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you. No ones ever given such a clear sense of awe; he gets stuck on you, his eyes tracing your cheek and your nose and your lips. It’s noticeable, but it isn’t unwanted. You keep coming back to his smile as he talks, the flash of his teeth.

“I honestly didn’t know Hotch had a sister,” Spencer says.

“He was keeping us apart for a reason,” you say insistently, “I just don’t know what that reason is yet. He must’ve known you were the Dr. Reid I’d been reading.”

“It makes it sound like you’re reading me,” Spencer laughs. “Like, my hands.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Do I want you to what?”

“To read your palm?”

“You know how?”

“No parties, remember?”

Spencer gives you his hand. He has nice hands, big but slim-fingered like a pianist’s, though if he plays isn’t something you know. You angle it flat careful, your thumbs to either side of his open palm. “What do you want to know?” you ask.

“What can you tell me?”

You hum gently. “You have your life line, your head line, your heart line– your love line.”

“What does that– that mean for me?”

You press your thumb to his mount Jupiter, a soft hill of his hand under one of his fingers where the heart line begins. “Your desire for love, and your capacity for it. See how deeply curved it is?” you ask, drawing along his heart line gently. “It means you’re warm, and loving. That you could have a great love.”

You look up, his hand held gently between yours. “But I could be really wrong. I haven’t done this in so long, I might just be making stuff up.”

You sound insecure to your own ears, cringing away from his hand, but Spencer ducks his head just a little to keep your gaze, and he smiles at you softly. “It’s okay. I like your reading, even if it’s wrong. Where did you learn how to do that?”

“Aaron would buy me any book I asked for growing up, he…”

Your brother, sitting only a few seats away, can’t find it in himself to regret that particular generosity even if the sight of you holding Spencer’s hand isn’t one he wants to see. It’s odd. You’re fully grown up, and it’s not like Aaron thinks Spencer would ever hurt you purposefully, but it’s hard to see anyways. He can admit to feeling like a father watching his daughter finding a first love; he can’t keep you forever and he doesn’t want to, but it’s still hard to watch as you descend into giggles that border on dizziness.

“This is a good thing,” Rossi says. “You’ll never have to worry about her being out past curfew.”

Aaron laughs, it’s funny, and then he knocks back his drink.