#Hints Leading to Breakup

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Hiii! If it's okay can I request reader pranking LADS men with 'lets breakup' just to see their reaction? ;D

Break Up Prank - The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, caleb x reader genre/tags: angsty w/ comfort-ish at the end a/n: hihi anonnie ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i ened up writing this more angsty mainly bc i just think they would be devasted if you ever wanted to leave them .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. anyways i hope this was alright and that you enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

“This bread should go well with the chocolate milk. Would you like to try?” He asks, offering it to you with a soft smile.

You take a deep breath, keeping your voice as steady as possible. “I think we should break up.” The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it instantly. You watched his eyes widen and his entire body freeze. His hands, still holding the bread midair, slowly lowers.

“what?” He says weakly, trying to process what’s happening. “I..I don't get it.” His smile slowly disappears, a frown replacing it instead. His eyes search yours desperately to find any clue, any hints to find an answer. “Did I do something wrong?” He stammered, his gaze shifting downward as his heart sank all the way down to his body.

You don’t think you can go further with this prank any longer, feeling immediately guilty. “I was just kidding! It’s a prank, Xavier,” You say, trying to lighten the mood but yet the tension in the air still remains.

He doesn’t move, his eyes are uncertain, flicking between you and his plate. “Are you sure?” His voice was quiet, trying to convince himself it was a joke but a part of him still thought otherwise. “If there is something wrong, if there’s anything I can do-” He trails off but before he can say anything more, you rush to his side, your arms wrapping around him tightly.

“I'm so sorry, Xavier. I shouldn't have done that. Tara and I saw it online, and I thought it would be funny. I promise I love you, and I would never want to leave you.” For a while, he doesn’t respond, but slowly, he pulls you closer, burying his face into your neck. His breath is a little shaky, but you feel his shoulders relax just a little.

“I didn't want to lose you,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. His hair tickles your neck and you can feel the soft sigh of relief as the tension leaves his body.

“Do you still want to eat your snacks?” you pull away slightly, cupping his face but he shakes his head. His arms tighten around you as he buries himself back into your neck.

“Let's just stay like this for a while,” He murmurs, his voice still slightly shaky. His appetite has vanished entirely, replaced by a need for comfort and that you’re both going to be okay. He should’ve never given bread another chance.

Zayne:

“You shouldn’t sit like that. It can lead to lower back discomfort." Zayne says softly, his hands carefully help you adjust your position as he places a pillow behind your head.

“I don't think this is working out. I think we should end this.” You kept your tone flat, not a hint of a smile or a crack of a laugh to give away the joke. The air around you both goes still, and Zayne stops mid-sentence on his lecture for your posture and health. His throat goes dry while his eyes narrow as if trying to process what you’ve said.

There was an awkward silence between you both until he cleared his throat, adjusting his tie as if it were the only thing he could focus on to keep himself together. “May I ask where this is coming from, my love?” His nickname for you came into a hushed whisper, unsure if he could even use that name at this moment.

“Can we please talk it out? If it’s my nagging that’s become too much, then I’ll stop..my only intention is to look after you.” He’s trying to keep his composure, but you can hear the hurt in his words. “If there's anything else I've done or said, anything I can fix together with you.. I promise-”

You can feel the guilt creeping in each time he speaks. You couldn’t ignore how it affected you and how he was so serious and vulnerable. This prank has gone a little too far, and the laughter you held back was now gone. ”Zayne, wait! I'm so sorry it was just a prank!” You rushed, “I thought it would be funny..I saw this video online..”

Zayne's eyes flutter close as he sighs heavily. “Forgive me..I forgot I'm dating a comedian,” He mutters under his breath, a half smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He shakes his head, a slow exhale escapes past his lips. “I'm glad everything’s alright. May I?” He steps closer to you, his arm outstretched into an embrace. But before you can say anything else, he playfully flicks your forehead.

“Hey!” You protest, but you can feel the soft chuckle rumble in his chest as you pull into his embrace. His breath tickles your skin, and you can’t help but smile, knowing how much loved you are.

“I only ask for you not to prank me like that again. I'm already growing enough white hairs because of you.”

Rafayel:

You instantly regretted ever finishing that sentence.

You watched the way the light in his eyes disappear. His heart seemed to crack, threatening to shatter into a million pieces as the pain washed over his face.

His nebula eyes looked at you in disbelief, unable to comprehend the words that just left your lips were true. The brush in his hand slipped from his fingers as his whole body went limp. His lips trembled, fighting back the flood of emotions threatening to break through.

“I-was it....do you really want that?” His voice shook, the words barely escaping past his lips. His chest tightened, hoping he didn’t hear the answer he dreads. “Was there something I’ve done, cutie?” His gaze drops, his lips pursing as he tries to recall something, anything, that would explain what he did wrong. “I can do better..we can work it out together, yeah? Tell me what’s wrong..” His eyes were pleading, desperate.

You could see the depth of his pain and the way he blamed himself, even though you knew that this was just a prank. It broke your heart, and you couldn’t keep going, the guilt was suffocating enough. “Raf, no! You did nothing wrong. It was just a prank!”

His mouth fell open in shock. “...what?” His voice was weak, a soft gasp escaping him as he dramatically collapsed back onto the couch. “Pranks are supposed to be funny! That wasn’t funny!” He groaned, relief flooding through him. “Dun ever do that to me again, hmph..” He mumbles, his hand still over his face as he tries to collect himself. “Hold me..”

He lets you pull him into your arms, his cheek pressing into your shoulder, the weight of his body finally relaxing as he feels you close. He let out a deep breath as if he were holding it in for too long. “I thought my heart stopped for a moment, cutie..” He murmurs, “Promise me we’ll work through everything?”

Sylus:

“Sweetie-” Sylus’s voice echoes at the front door. You were already in the living room, arms crossed, while you tried to keep your face unreadable.

“We should break up.” You say flatly.

He flinched at the sudden words. The small box he had wanted to surprise you with was clutched tightly as he tried to process your words. His face was in disbelief. His eyes searched for yours, trying to find some sign of a joke. But your expression was cold and unreadable. He set the box down on the table, his movements felt too slow.

“Is there a particular reason you feel this way?” His voice was barely a whisper. You didn’t answer right, the silence in the air was heavy, suffocating even. He took a step forward towards you, hesitant. “Is there any way I can fix this?” The hurt in his eyes was palpable as he slowly reached for you, cupping your face gently. His thumb brushed over your cheek, searching for any sign that could give him an answer.

But you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You felt the weight of his touch, the weight of his words, and the devastation in his eyes. “Sylus..I’m sorry, it was just a prank..”

His breath hitched, his thumb stopping as he froze. His eyes closed as he inhaled sharply as he’d been hit by a wave of relief. “What will I do with you..” He muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose before his eyes fluttered open slowly, amusement flicking across his face. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” He asked, raising a brow.

You shook your head quickly, guilt flooding you. “No Sylus. You’re perfect. I’m sorry.. It was funnier in my head. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “You had me worried there for a second, sweetie,” Sylus speaks quietly. His fingers graze your hair as he pulls you into an embrace. His lips press softly to the top of your head, and the fear of losing you again still lingers in him.

Caleb:

“Hey pipsqueak, what’re you in the mood for? I’m thinking maybee something savory, or how about something spicy?” He glanced over at you. His warm smile was infectious, as always, but you tried to stay strong. His expression faltered when he saw the look on your face.

“I don’t think this is working out anymore. Let's break up.”

Each word stung, his smile immediately disappearing. He blinked, his mind racing to process what you had just said, the grip on the wooden spoon tightened without him realizing it. Maybe he didn’t hear you right, yeah definitely.

“Sorry..maybe you want something sweet? Or if you’re tired of my cooking, how about takeout?” He tilts his head, refusing to believe it.

“No, Caleb. Let's break up.” The words felt sharper this time, slicing his heart into a million little pieces that no one could ever pick up. You could see it in his eyes, his entire world was crumbling. Every muscle in his body tensed as his breath caught in his throat. His face faltered for a second, his brow furrowing deeply as he set the spoon down with trembling hands.

“Pip-Y/n..where is this coming from?” His voice is quiet now as he takes a step closer. His purple eyes were a mix of confusion and hurt, his hands remained stiff by his sides, almost as if they didn’t know what to do. “Hey..what’s going on? Talk to me, please..” His voice cracked at the end, desperate.

Even though there was only a few inches of distance between you, it felt like the distance was growing further and further. “I can fix it..please..just tell me what to do..anything..” His chest tightened as his mind spun in a thousand different directions. What did he do? What went wrong?

You could see the pain written across his face, a mixture of panic, disbelief, and heartache that made yours ache. Without thinking, you reached out to him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. Caleb’s body was stiff at first as if he didn’t know how to respond, but once he felt your arms tighten, he exhaled slowly.

“I’m sorry, Caleb..I shouldn’t have said that. It was just a stupid prank,” you whispered. However, the words didn’t sink in right away. His body remained frozen, still processing everything.

He pulled back slightly, his hands shaking as he cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek like he was trying to make sure you were real. “Really? You’re not leaving?”

You nodded, “I’m not. I love you, and I won’t ever leave you.”

He exhaled sharply, his body finally relaxing against you as the tension in his body began to unwind. “You almost got me there, pipsqueak...” He let out a weak laugh, his voice still shaky as he pressed a soft kiss to your head. “Maybe you should stick to cilantro-flavored toothpaste pranks next time..”

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ thank you to my beta readers for helping me with this ! @ilovemitsuya and @pomegranatepip MWAH ₊˚⊹ᰔ

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! Love And DeepSpace Masterlist , Pg.2

[drewsephrry]

Love Island - Episode 13: Pick me, Choose me, Love me

pairings: rafe cameron x fem!reader

words: 4.9k

warnings: cuss words, sexual innuendos

series masterlist

The girls are gathered in the makeup room, getting ready for the recoupling. The atmosphere is thick, awkward and tense, like no one really wants to say what they’re thinking.

“So…a recoupling.” Cleo ventures, trying to break the silence. “That’s gonna be…interesting.”

No one really reacts. She clears her throat and turns to Y/N.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” She asks and Y/N offers a small, instinctive smile. 

“Honestly? I’m just excited to recouple with Rafe.” She says, a hint of giddiness slipping through. “But I do need to have a very uncomfortable conversation with Ryan first.”

“You’re going to talk to him?” Sarah asks, glancing up from her eyeshadow palette. Her eyes flick briefly to Kiara before returning to her brush. Y/N catches it and nods.

“It’s what he deserves.” Y/N says simply. “I can’t just leave things hanging like that. He needs to hear from me that I don’t see it going anywhere. Even if it’s hard. It’s not fair to let him think I might pick him when I won’t.”

The girls nod, quietly agreeing.

“You’re such a good person.” Cleo says warmly.

“I’m just trying to be honest.” Y/N replies with a shrug, meeting Kiara’s eye as she fans her eyelash glue dry.

Across the room, Abigail is rifling through her clothes in silence, round curlers perched on her head.

“Need a hand, Abi?” Y/N calls over.

Abigail turns with a soft smile and shakes her head. 

“I’m good, thanks.” She responds.

Y/N gives her a knowing nod before turning her attention back to her makeup bag, the buzz of tension still lingering beneath the surface.

Later, when the girls make their way downstairs, Y/N spots Ryan sitting on the couch with Kelce and John B. She walks over, steady but warm.

“Hey.” She says with a soft smile as she stops in front of them.

The boys greet her and she turns to Ryan. 

“Mind if I steal Ryan for a minute? I promise I’ll bring him back.” 

“Keep him.” John B teases, earning a few light laughs as Ryan stands up. He places a casual hand on Y/N’s waist as she leads him toward one of the quieter couches, away from the others.

“You look incredible tonight.” He says as they sit down.

Y/N’s cheeks flush with color as she glances at her dress.

“Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Ryan leans back slightly, already sensing where the conversation is headed.

“I pulled you for a chat because…”

“You’re picking Rafe.” He says, cutting in gently and she freezes for a second. 

“Ryan…”

“It’s okay.” He says quickly. “I see you two together. I get it.”

“I did feel something between us. I want you to know that.” Y/N swallows, her voice quiet.

“I did too.” He says with a nod. “I really like you, Y/N. But I also know what you and Rafe have is different. I’m not here to fight for someone’s attention. I’m here to enjoy this and maybe find something real.”

Her expression softens, worry flickering in her eyes. 

“I never wanted to hurt you.” She mutters.

“You didn’t.” He reassures her, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. “I had a crush, I took my shot and it didn’t work out. That’s life.”

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs again.

“Don’t be.” He smiles, sincere. “I’m glad we got to know each other. I want you to be happy. And if Rafe makes you happy, then I’m rooting for you.”

“This kind of feels like a breakup.” Y/N lets out a soft laugh. He laughs too. 

“It does. ‘I’m just focusing on my career right now.’ ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’” He jokes, tossing out the clichés. She laughs louder this time, before they fall into a brief, easy silence.

“I’d still like to be friends.” She says suddenly, sitting up.

“I’d really like that too.” He agrees and she opens her arms.

“Come here.”

He leans in, wrapping her in a warm hug. She breathes in the familiar scent of his and lets herself settle into the moment before pulling back with a smile.

“So…” She says, leaning back. “Thoughts on tonight’s recoupling?”

“What do you mean?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, have you felt a spark with anyone else? Who do you think might pick you?”

Ryan hesitates for a second, then leans in slightly like he’s sharing a secret. 

“Okay…don’t tease me or tell anyone yet, but…I think I’m getting a bit of a vibe from Abi.”

“Really?” Y/N’s eyes go wide, her smile lighting up. 

“Yeah.” He says with a grin. “She’s sweet. Funny. And I don’t know, maybe it’s because we entered the villa together, but there’s this comfort between us.”

“I can see that.” She says thoughtfully. “Have you talked to her about it?”

“I want to.” He admits. “But I’m not sure where things stand between her and JJ.”

“Well.” Y/N says with a shrug. “You’ve got nothing to lose. I think you should go for it.”

“Thanks, Y/N. Really.” He nods, eyes warm. 

She smiles again, proud of the way things turned out, even if it wasn’t the easiest conversation to have.

Confessional - Ryan “I really respect her for pulling me aside and having that conversation. She didn’t just leave me hanging or make me look stupid…I mean she’s not the type to do that. She’s way too kind for that.” He says with a small sigh. “Honestly, I’m just grateful we got some closure.”

Across the villa, Kiara and Abigail are on the lounge beds, drinks in hand. The night air is warm, but the energy between them is noticeably cooler.

“Okay, so…” Abigail starts, her voice low and hesitant. “I pulled you for a chat because…shit, I’m really bad at confrontation.”

She takes a long breath before continuing.

“Last night, some people saw you and JJ going into the villa…and then coming back like twenty minutes later. And I’m not saying something definitely happened, but I guess I just wanted to ask...did…did something happen? If so, do you feel something there? Like…is there an actual connection? Or is it just friendly?” She winces. “God, I sound toxic. Just-just forget I said anything.”

She starts to rise, embarrassed, but Kiara gently reaches out and catches her hand.

“Abi, wait.”

Abigail pauses, then sinks back down beside her. Kiara exhales slowly. 

“There’s…been a vibe between JJ and me for a while. I didn’t act on it because I didn’t want to overthink it or make things messy. But last night, during the challenge… something shifted. It was this undeniable spark everyone talks about.”

She hesitates.

“Afterward, he told me to meet him upstairs. And I swear, I didn’t know what he was planning or what he was thinking.”

“So…what happened?” Abigail frowns. Kiara looks down at her drink, then back up.

“We kissed. Just once. But…it felt real. Like the first time I’ve had butterflies in this villa.”

Abigail’s face tightens. She looks away, staring into her glass. 

“You could’ve told me.” She mutters.

“I would. I swear.”

“When, Kie?” Abigail presses, her voice strained. “When you would have stood up and picked him at the recoupling?”

Kiara’s heart sinks. 

“No. I would never do that to you. Please…just trust me on this.”

“I want to. But the way you both hid this from me? I just…I didn’t expect this. Not from you.” Abigail shakes her head, eyes glassy but holding back. 

“I’m sorry, Abi. I really am.” Kiara's shoulders slump as the weight of her guilt settles in.

“I am too.” Abigail replies quietly as she stands. “I just need some space.”

Kiara nods silently, watching as Abigail walks away.

Confessional - Kiara “I would’ve told her. I should have told her.” She insists quietly.

Maddy and Sarah are in the kitchen, casually snacking and sipping on drinks, when Y/N strolls in and hops onto one of the stools.

“Hi, girlies.” She sing-songs, flashing them a bright smile.

“Hi, gorgeous.” Maddy beams, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “You good?”

“Just had the talk with Ryan.” Y/N exhales.

“Oh, shit.” Sarah’s eyes widen. “How’d it go?”

“He was actually…really chill about it.” Y/N says. “I think he saw it coming. He wasn’t upset and we agreed to stay friends, so…it went as well as it could have.”

“Yeah, no.” Maddy shakes her head, already unimpressed. “Boys and girls can’t just be friends.”

“I hate to break it to you, Mads.” Y/N says with a smirk, “But I have to disagree.”

“Nope. Every guy I’ve ever said ‘let’s be friends’ to, whether that was exes, flings or even random guys I’ve ended up hooking up with at some point. It’s literally impossible. Unless they’re gay.”

“Honestly, I have to side with Maddy on this one.” Sarah raises her hand like she’s seconding a motion.

“Well, that’s not gonna happen with me and Ryan.” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“Whatever you say.” Maddy says, folding her arms. “But it’s impossible when there are feelings involved.”

“There are no feelings involved.” Y/N insists, shaking her head. “Not like that.”

“You like him.” Maddy replies immediately, raising a smug brow.

“I don’t like-like him.” 

“But you like him.”

“I don’t have a crush!” She argues.

“But you like him.” Maddy says again, grinning.

“I just think he’s-”

“Charming?” Maddy laughs. “Yeah, you've said it a million times, babe. You like him.”

Y/N sighs and turns her gaze to the beanbags, where Rafe is sitting, relaxed and glowing under the villa lights.

“Well…if I do like Ryan, it’s not the way I like Rafe.” Her voice softens as she watches him. “Ryan’s a great guy. He came in when I was all over the place. And he helped, you know? He pulled me out of my head when I was still dealing with the whole…cheating thing. But at the end of the day, he’s not Rafe.”

“You’re falling for Rafe.” Sarah lets out a squeal.

“D-Don’t say that.” Y/N warns, instantly flustered.

“Oh my god, did you stutter?” Maddy gasps, pointing at her. “You totally stuttered. You’re so falling for him!”

Y/N groans and hides her face in her hands as the girls burst into giggles around her.

Just then, Kiara steps into the kitchen, her heels clicking softly against the wooden floor.

“Y/N?” She says, carefully.

Y/N lifts her head from her hands, eyebrows raised. 

“Kie? What’s going on?”

Kiara glances at Maddy and Sarah, who go quiet, sipping their drinks. Then she turns back to Y/N, nervous but determined.

“I...I feel like a hypocrite.” She says quietly. “Calling Rafe a liar, saying I didn’t trust him and that he’d hurt you…when I messed up too.”

Y/N’s eyes widen slightly, already sensing what’s coming.

“Kie-” “I kissed JJ.” Kiara blurts out.

The room goes still. All three girls look up at her, stunned.

“And...we didn’t tell Abigail.” She continues. “She found out. And it sucked. Seeing her face like that…seeing how hurt she was.”

Y/N immediately opens her arms and Kiara walks into her embrace. Y/N rubs her back gently as she speaks.

“I think I know how Abi feels.” She murmurs. “And honestly, the best thing you can do is give her some time. Let everything breathe a little.”

She pulls back to look Kiara in the eyes.

“Was the kiss just in the moment? Or…did it mean something?” Y/N asks.

“I wanted to kiss him. And…I think he did too. He made the first move.”

Y/N sighs, but it’s not judgmental, it's more thoughtful.

“Then yeah…I think what hurt Abigail most wasn’t just the kiss, it was the fact you kept it from her.”

“So I should just… give her space?” 

Y/N nods and Maddy and Sarah follow with quiet agreement.

“And the recoupling?” Kiara asks, almost in a whisper.

The girls exchange glances. No one jumps to answer.

“Just…go with your gut.” Y/N says gently. “If you talked to Abigail first, explained what happened and how you feel about JJ, then she probably will understand your choice. But if you’re unsure about JJ or if there’s no real feeling behind it...maybe it’s not worth the fallout.”

Kiara nods again, taking it all in. Then she leans in and hugs Y/N one more time.

“Thank you.” She murmurs.

“Anytime.” Y/N gives her a soft smile. 

Confessional - Kiara “That talk with Y/N definitely helped me make up my mind.” Kiara says, nodding. “Honestly, someone should just hand that girl a psychology degree.”

Rafe sits by the firepit with JJ and Topper, the three of them nursing their drinks.

“Rafe?” Topper says cautiously.

“Yeah?” Rafe’s jaw tightens as he glances up at him.

“I just wanna say I’m sorry for what I said the other night.” Topper starts, shifting in his seat and Rafe gives a small nod, letting him continue.

“I shouldn’t have called Y/N fake or said she was playing you. I thought I was looking out for you, but...I was out of line. I’ve had time to think it over and I see both your sides now. I just want you to be happy, man.”

Rafe exhales slowly. 

“Then don’t talk shit about her again.” He says simply. “And really, you owe her the apology, not me.”

“I figured you’d say that.” Topper nods, already expecting that. “And yeah, I will. I promise. So...we good?”

“We’re good, man.” Rafe lets out a quiet chuckle and nods.

They dab each other up and JJ leans back on the bench with a sigh, clearly growing impatient.

“Alright, can we get to the real crisis here?” JJ says.

The guys glance over at him.

“What now?” Rafe asks, lifting his glass.

“I, uh…I kissed Kiara last night. And I haven’t told Abigail.” JJ reveals.

“Shit.” Topper’s eyes widen.

“I know. It just…happened. And I don’t regret it. Kiara and I had a moment. I kinda wanna see where it goes.” 

“And Abigail?” Rafe presses.

“I like her too.” JJ admits. “I’m a mess.”

“Then be straight with her. Don’t leave her in the dark.” Rafe says, the memory of his own screw-ups flickering behind his eyes.

“She’s gonna hate me.” JJ mutters.

“She might be pissed, sure. But she deserves the truth, JJ.” Rafe looks at him, voice softer now.

“And you better do it before the recoupling.” Topper adds.

JJ stands up  like he’s ready to go and then a loud ping echoes.

“I got a text!” Sarah shouts from the kitchen. “Islanders, please gather at the firepit. #decisiontime #whowillitbe.”

JJ freezes, then drops back down onto the bench with a groan. 

“Fuck.” He mutters.

Rafe gives his back a sympathetic smack while the boys let out a collective sigh.

Confessional - JJ “I’m fucked. This whole thing is fucked.” He runs a hand down his face. “Fuck.”

The Islanders begin gathering slowly, one by one taking their seats beside their current partners. A phone chimes, slicing through the chatter.

“Boys.” Pope reads. “Please stand at the front of the firepit.”

The guys exchange a few glances before getting to their feet and making their way to the front. The girls shift in their seats, anticipation building as they prepare for the recoupling.

Maddy’s phone buzzes first. She jumps up with a grin, practically glowing.

“I’d like to couple up with this boy.” She begins, her voice light. “Because he’s made me laugh more than anyone before. He’s sweet, he’s fun and I always feel at ease when I’m around him. So the boy I wanna couple up with is…Kelce.”

He jogs over, plants a kiss on her lips and she giggles as they sit back down together, his arm draping naturally around her shoulder.

Next up is Sarah, who stands and delivers a short but heartfelt speech. She smiles as she chooses John B and he walks over, grabbing her and kissing her. Their kiss turns intense fast, drawing whistles and laughter from the others.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough!” Someone calls and they break apart, laughing as they return to their seats.

Alyssa stands next. Her expression is a little more serious.

“I'd like to couple up with this boy, because even though things haven’t exactly been smooth between us lately.” She says. “I still believe there’s something worth holding onto.” She glances at Topper. “So I’m choosing to couple up with…Topper.”

He walks over, hugs her a little longer than expected and they sit down quietly.

Y/N stands up slowly, smoothing out her dress and letting out a small breath as all eyes fall on her.

“I wanna couple up with this boy because…” She begins, voice a little unsteady. “Even though we haven’t known each other that long...being around him just feels easy.”

She lets out a quick breath, eyes flicking toward him.

“Okay, not always easy.” She admits with a small laugh. “It’s been a bit messy, if I’m honest. But somehow, it still feels real.”

Rafe watches her, lips twitching into a subtle smile.

“We’ve had our ups and downs already. But there’s something there. And no matter how things have gone…I keep coming back to him.”

Her voice softens at the end, eyes lingering on him now.

“So yeah. The boy I wanna couple up with…is Rafe.”

He’s already on his feet before she finishes, crossing the space between them in a few steps. He wraps his arms around her waist and lifts her just slightly, kissing her without saying a word. She smiles into it, arms winding naturally around his neck like she’s done it a hundred times.

“Hey!” Sarah calls out, teasing. “You told me and John B to keep it PG!”

Everyone laughs as they finally break apart and settle on the bench together. Rafe turns to her, eyes scanning her face.

“You’re not wearing that…lip stuff tonight?” He asks, voice lower now.

“You always kiss it off anyway. Figured I’d skip the routine.” She grins. He chuckles, hand settling on her waist again as she leans into him. He presses a kiss to her temple, then turns his attention back to the firepit, still holding her. 

Abigail rises slowly.

“I’d like to couple up with this boy.” She says. “Because he’s funny, he’s sweet and from the moment we met, he’s had this really kind and calming energy. I’ve loved getting to know him, and I’d really like to see where this could go.” She exhales. “So the boy I wanna couple up with is…Ryan.”

Ryan’s eyes widen. He turns instinctively to look at Y/N, who mirrors his expression before giving him an encouraging grin.

He walks over to Abigail, kisses her cheek and takes the seat beside her.

JJ, still standing at the front, furrows his brow in confusion. He glances at Abigail across the firepit. But she doesn’t meet his eyes.

“That was…unexpected.” Ryan whispers to Abigail.

“Not really.” She replies, calmly meeting his eyes.

Ryan relaxes a little more in his seat, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Cleo stands next and confidently chooses Pope. Their kiss is sweet and unhurried before they settle down again.

Finally, Kiara rises.

“I’d like to couple up with this boy.” She sighs. “Because he’s really handsome, really funny and somehow always has me laughing until I can’t breathe. And...there’s a spark there. Something worth exploring. So, the boy I wanna couple up with is…JJ.”

JJ walks over slowly, hugging her a little awkwardly in front of everyone before they both sit down with matching sighs.

When the recoupling wraps up, the islanders scatter. Some heading toward the fire pit, others toward the daybeds, settling in with their partners.

Ryan and Abigail walk over to one of the couches, drinks in hand, the warm night buzzing around them.

“I gotta say.” Ryan starts, settling in beside her. “I’m really glad you picked me.”

“You are?” Abigail asks, her smile soft but a little surprised.

“Yeah.” He nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was actually telling Y/N earlier…I feel like we’ve got something. A connection, I guess. I mean…we came in together, which probably made it easier. But being around you just feels…natural. Comfortable. You’re really sweet. And stunning, obviously. And now I’m rambling.” He lets out a nervous laugh.

Abigail laughs too. 

“No, it’s okay.” She pauses, then adds more seriously, “I do feel that connection, too. But I want to be honest with you. Right before the recoupling…I found out something happened between JJ and Kiara. And I won’t lie, it did influence my choice.”

“Okay.” Ryan’s smile dims just a little, but he nods, taking it in.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m using you or that it’s not real. Because I meant what I said up there. I chose you because I see something with you.”

Ryan leans forward slightly, his expression earnest. 

“I didn’t know about the JJ and Kiara thing. I knew he wanted to talk to her, but that’s it. And honestly? I don’t think you’d ever use me like that. I see you. Or at least, I’m starting to. And yeah, maybe everything's moving fast and it’s all a bit chaotic right now, but I’m here and I want to see where this goes. Whenever you are ready.”

“Thank you. That really means a lot. It is a lot right now.” Abigail nods, her shoulders relaxing a little.

“Come here.” He opens his arms gently. She leans in and hugs him tight, resting her chin on his shoulder.

Confessional - Ryan “Yeah, I know she’s got a lot on her mind and things are messy right now…but I’m genuinely glad she chose me.” He grins. “I wanna keep getting to know her. See where this goes.”

The islanders start making their way into the villa to get ready for the night. Rafe walks through the flower-lined corridor, carrying Y/N in his arms like a bride. She giggles the whole way, her laughter echoing as they step inside and the boys, already lounging around, erupt in cheers.

“Here comes the bride!” JJ hollers, grinning as the others join in with whistles and claps.

Rafe gently sets her down at the foot of the stairs. She turns to smile at him, but before she can fully walk away, he catches her hand and pulls her back into him, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“Don’t take too long.” He murmurs. She giggles, giving him another quick peck before heading upstairs.

In the dressing room, the girls are wiping off their makeup and chatting about the day. The door swings open and Y/N walks in to a chorus of playful screams.

“There she is!” Maddy teases. “How are you feeling Mrs. Cameron?”

Y/N blushes, grinning wide. 

“Honestly? My cheeks hurt from smiling. I feel…giddy.” She replies as the girls laugh with her, the energy light and warm.

A few feet away, Kiara is taking off her earrings when Abigail approaches her quietly.

“Hey.” Abigail says.

“Hey.” Kiara glances over. 

“I just...I wanted to say sorry. If I came off mean earlier.”

“You didn’t.” Kiara assures her gently. “But you have every right to be upset. I should’ve told you. I get it.”

“I’m not mad.” Abigail shakes her head. “I was just... frustrated, I guess. But I see the way you and JJ are with each other. And I don’t want to be in the middle of that.”

Kiara steps in for a hug and Abigail wraps her arms around her without hesitation.

“I love you.” Kiara whispers. “And I’m really sorry for how it all happened.”

“Love you too.” Abigail says softly, pulling back with a small smile before going to change into her pajamas.

Confessional - Abigail “Me and JJ…it was fun while it lasted. All two days of it.” She lets out a small laugh. “But this is Love Island. I can’t be mad at him for wanting to see where things go with Kie. And I’m definitely not mad at her either. It is what it is.”

Later, as the girls trickle downstairs, Abigail makes her way over to JJ’s bed. He looks up, running a hand through his hair as she approaches.

“Hey.” He says.

She sits down where he pats beside him.

“I know about you and Kiara.” She starts, voice calm. “And I’m not mad. Or hurt. I’ve had time to think and I can see she really wants to give whatever’s between you two a shot. And I don’t want to be in the way of that.”

JJ nods, his expression sincere. 

“I should’ve pulled you aside sooner. I messed up, and I take full responsibility for that. I’m sorry, Abigail.” He apologizes and she nods, a soft smile on her lips. 

“Thank you for saying that.” 

He nods back and with a quiet understanding between them, she stands and heads to her bed, where Ryan is already lying down, looking up at her with a warm smile.

Meanwhile, Y/N steps into the bedroom, the soft swish of silk the only sound as she crosses the room in her yellow pajamas. The camisole clings delicately to her frame, lace tracing her bust and hem, matching the floral silk shorts that sit snugly on her hips. Rafe doesn’t even try to hide it as his eyes follow every step, the straw from his water bottle paused at his lips.

He shifts under the covers and lifts the duvet for her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“That color.” He mutters, voice low and a little hoarse. “Looks too damn good on you.”

She smiles, settling on her side of the bed and placing her phone and water bottle on the bedside table. But before she can fully lie down, Rafe reaches over, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against his chest. She melts into him, a quiet laugh leaving her lips as she tucks her face against his neck.

Then, a hesitant voice breaks the moment.

“Hey…Y/N?”

Topper approaches slowly. 

“Hey, Topper. You alright?”nShe sits up slightly, turning to him with a concerned smile.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” He clears his throat, shifting awkwardly as he glances between her and Rafe. “I just…I wanted to apologize. For what I said the other day. Calling you fake, saying you were playing Rafe…that was outta line.”

“It’s fine, really-” Y/N shakes her head.

“No, I need to say it. I was out of line and you didn’t deserve that.” He cuts in, firm but sincere.

She exhales softly, then moves to crawl across Rafe to reach him. She opens her arms and Topper doesn’t hesitate to hug her back.

From behind her, Rafe’s eyes drop to the way her shorts ride up, his gaze darkening slightly.

“Yo, Rafe.” Topper teases as they pull apart, catching the look. “You’re drooling, man.”

Y/N giggles, looking over her shoulder to find Rafe still staring. She smacks his chest playfully.

“My eyes are up here.”

“I know.” He murmurs, eyes finally lifting to meet hers.

She turns back to Topper with a gentle smile.

“Thanks for apologizing.” She mutters and Topper nods, offering a final glance to them both before heading to his own bed.

“Good man.” Rafe calls after him.

As soon as he’s gone, Y/N moves to her side of the bed again, but Rafe isn’t having it. He pulls her back into his lap with ease, arms around her waist and she laughs as her arms drape over his shoulders.

The villa goes dark, a chorus of sleepy goodnights floating through the air.

Rafe leans in, not wasting a second, capturing Y/N’s lips with his. She kisses him back eagerly, fumbling to pull the duvet over them as if it might shield them from the intensity brewing between them.

His hands find her waist, fingers splaying and sliding down to her hips, then lower. Her body shifts, brushing against him in a way that makes him let out a low, guttural groan.

“Sorry.” She breathes out, her voice shaky as she adjusts the blanket.

“Don’t…don’t apologize.” He murmurs, eyes fluttering open in the dark. “Fuck, I-I want you.”

“Ray…” She pulls back just enough, the air between them cooling. There’s hesitation in her voice now and it makes him blink, thrown off.

“Wh-Am I moving too fast or something?” He asks, voice suddenly laced with concern.

Her hand finds the back of his neck, her fingers trailing gently through his hair, grounding him even as she hesitates.

“I…is kissing okay? Just kissing, for now?”

Relief and restraint flash across his features as he nods quickly. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s more than okay. We don’t even have to do anything. I just wanna be with you.” He murmurs. She exhales, her shoulders relaxing. 

“It’s just…it’s our first night back together. After everything that’s happened, I don’t wanna rush anything.”

“I get it. You lead the way.” He reaches up, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear with the softest touch. 

She gives him a grateful, almost shy smile, then leans in again. Their lips meet gently at first, a slow burn, until she deepens the kiss with a quiet hunger that still makes his head spin.

Rafe’s hands slide back to her waist, gripping her just right, but he doesn’t push. Doesn’t go further.

He’s content kissing her like this. Wanting more, but respecting the pace she sets.

And when she finally rests her head against his chest, his arms instinctively wrapping around her, he presses a kiss to her hair.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers like a vow into the dark.

to be continued...

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[yasministration]

heyy i’m the same anon who just sent the one abt james. i think i accidentally wrote spring instead of summer? i honestly don’t remember.. very sorry😭🙏

but also ngl spring could be cute with this prompt if it was like fake dating or smthn ("come on, you're my only option"). ok sorry for rambling! i love your work

only woman - James Potter

ʀᴀɪɴʏᴅᴀʏᴀᴛʜᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ' 3ᴋ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ! summary: the first time you and james have a friendly conversation after your breakup leads to something more... (smut) wc: 1.6k+

James potter was not happy. No, not now, and not since an hour ago, when you’d cornered him with your beautiful smile — the one that made him fall in love with you in the first place. Sitting on the couch in the common room with his cock hard as a rock, James was forced to listen to the other marauders’ jokes while you insisted on hearing whatever gossip Lily had to tell you. James didn’t know how to pull you away from your shared group of friends, because since the two of you had broken up, you’d barely even been in the same room together.

It was only today that you decided you were ready for that next step in rekindling your friendship, calling out James’s name in the hallway as you caught up to him, hooking your arm through his and eagerly asking if he’d read the newest book in your shared favourite comic book series. James had engaged in your conversation with a wide smile, communicating how happy he was for things between you to finally be normal again.

But now, as he sat with a pillow over his lap, he was sure things would never go back to normal with you. He’d taken too many not-so-subtle glances down the front of your shirt, like he always did when he was your boyfriend. The only difference was that now, he couldn’t tug you closer to him by the hips, pressing desperate kisses against your lips until you were stripping your shirt off.

Your breakup was stupid, James now decided.

The both of you should have talked things out like adults instead of arguing and deciding on the spot that your relationship wouldn’t endure the inevitable long distance that would come due to your varying interests for further education. James remembers seeing your puffy face the day after the breakup, Lily leading you away from James and the rest of the marauders so you could have a somewhat peaceful breakfast. By not having an amicable breakup, you created tensions in the friend group. Awkwardness that had only begun healing two months after you’d separated. It took more than those two months for you to speak to each other, and nearly six full months after your breakup — today — you’d had your first friendly conversation.

And James was already regretting everything. He shouldn’t have broken up with you, he shouldn’t have spoken to you today, he shouldn’t have let his thoughts wander, because now he was stuck in this situation. This situation, with you glancing up at him from across the room with a friendly smile, though you had a mischievous glint in your eye he would recognise anywhere.

He had enough.

Abruptly standing, James grabbed his bag, which conveniently hung just in front of his hips, covering his unfortunate situation. “I think I’m going to go give Professor McGonagall the essay we started in class. I want to get her feedback on it.” James knew he didn’t have to direct any of his words to you for you to get the hint, his eyes having previously burned into you. And he stood correct, watching as you eagerly jumped up, grabbing your roll of parchment off the table. “I’ll come too! I just finished mine!” None of your friends suspected anything as you ran after James out of the common room, exchanging their gratefulness for your awakening friendship.

You hooked your arm through James’s as he led you out of the common room, though it wasn’t long before he was pulling you into a hidden room, its door wedged behind a statue. You called out your ex-boyfriend’s name and he spun to face you, a pleading look on his face. James dropped his book bag at his feet, and your eyes were instantly attracted to the bulge in his trousers. You suppressed the smile that so desperately wanted to make its way onto your face, instead raising your eyebrows at James, putting both hands on your hips. “This is what you dragged me out here for?” You sassed, and James immediately retorted with “You followed me.”

Huffing, you spun on the balls of your feet and reached for the door, but a hand on your wrist stopped you from leaving. You held your breath suddenly, feeling the warmth of James’s body radiate onto you. “James.” You uttered in a warning tone, but the man only shoved himself in the tight space between you and the door, forcing you to look at him. “Please. I don’t know what overtook me but I’m just- please.” Stepping away from James, you looked him up and down. He came closer to you, finally placing his hands on your hips, lowering his volume as he pleaded “You’re my only option.”

Offended, you slapped one of James’s hands off your body, scoffing “Why? ‘Cause no one else will take you?” But the boy only shook his head, saying “Because you're the only one I want.” Your breath hitched in your throat and your face immediately softened for James, putting a hand on his face. You almost forgot how loving and sweet James naturally was.

Okay, enough playing hard to get, you decided, finally pushing yourself up against James to press your lips against his in a passionate kiss. A grumble sounded in James chest as he brought a hand up to cup your face, the other one securely wrapping around your waist. You sighed into the kiss and James pushed his tongue past your lips and into your mouth with a desperation that had an intensity thickening in the room. You tripped backwards over James’ discarded bag, but his hold on you immediately tightened, and he dragged you over to the window nook, where you fell onto your back when the back of your legs hit its edge.

Gripping James’s belt, you messily undid it, gasping when his hands trailed under your skirt to tug your panties down. The second you released James from his boxers, sitting under his leaking cock, he broke the kiss to grab hold of himself, biting his bottom lip as he blindly tried to find your entrance. You hooked your leg over James’s hip, and almost immediately, you felt his tip probe your wet entrance, desperately pushing into you. You gasped, moaning when James slammed his lips back onto yours and you snaked a hand into his hair, tugging softly at his loose curls.

James wasn’t going to last long. You could tell by the way his thrusts were unusually short and desperate, fast instead of hard. James whined into the kiss, his hips barely pulling out of you every time before thrusting in again, balls-deep. You gasped as his tip grazed that spongy spot that never failed to make you lose yourself in pleasure, wrapping your arms over James’ shoulders to pull him closer to you. James averted his kisses to your neck, sucking eagerly on your skin and biting whenever particularly strong moans overtook him. “I love you.” He suddenly panted, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, haven’t had sex since you.” You moaned at James’s unexpected words, throwing your head back onto the thin cushions behind you. “Fuck James!”

“Tell me you’re mine.” He begged, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he lifted his head up to hover above yours, his lips barely grazing yours. "’M yours Jamie! No one can fuck me — oh my god — like you.” James moaned, letting his forehead drop against yours as he shut his eyes. “Fuck, you like when I fuck you like this?” He asked, trying to snap his hips into yours with more power. You hummed out an answer, barely able to form a coherent sentence when James brought his hand down to toy with your clit. “Just you.” You mumbled, bringing your hand up to push James’s face closer to yours, finally connecting your lips in a kiss again. You bit down on James’s bottom lip, unaware that immediately, the sting of your bite would have his hips stuttering to release his load of cum into you. You gasped loudly as James moaned your name, willing himself to give you a few more thrusts that finally pushed you over the edge.

James’s breath hitched in his throat when your nails harshly dug into his skin and your thighs tried clamping shut around his torso. He stared at you lovingly as you arched your back, eyes bracing shut and your mouth falling open to let out a string of high-pitched moans. James brushed a few hairs away from your eyes, smiling at you when you finally caught your breath and opened your eyes.

“Fuck, I better be the only woman you fuck for the rest of your life, Potter.” You panted, wincing slightly when he chuckled. James pulled out of you, a tint of blush on his cheeks. “So, uh… You’ll be mine again?” He asked sheepishly. You sat up, putting a hand on James’s bicep. “I’ll be yours again if we can talk about what broke us up in the first place.”

When you re-entered the common room, Lily, Remus and Sirius weren’t surprised to find you were both friends again, but they were more than shocked to find the hickeys on your neck, and to discover that James had decided he would follow you anywhere in the world if it meant you were happy. At least they also found out that you’d knocked some sense into him and said his career was just as important as yours.

Who knew, maybe you two were perfect for each other: one blinded by love and the other to provide them vision.

[juneoirs]

𝓘 𝓛𝓞𝓥𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 , 𝓘’𝓜 𝓢𝓞𝓡𝓡𝓨

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇. . your relationship with katsuki was always rocky. you constantly argued because his way of showing love was harsh and misunderstood, leading to your breakup. but neither of you could move on easily. katsuki, realizing his mistakes, decided to make it up to you in his own way.

afab! reader , angst to fluff , katsuki being a dick , pro hero! katsuki , nicknames ,

mentions of y/n , SMUT ﾉ suggestive , mdni﹙　18+　﹚, female body anatomy﹙　?　﹚ ྀིྀི

you can’t quite pinpoint when love and hate began to tangle together in your relationship with katsuki. there’s always been that push-and-pull between you , the tension that lives in his silence. he’s never been one to express himself easily; the words you long to hear—‘i love you’ —are words he’s never said. he’s never fought for you , never chased after you when you argued or when you felt like slipping away. he just. . let things be. and that quiet acceptance sometimes hurts more than any argument ever could.

five years. five years with katsuki bakugou, a whirlwind of moments, both wonderful and aching. you know who he is , the fiery , stubborn , infuriatingly handsome boy who lit up your world when you first met in high school. you’ve always known he was tough to read , his walls high and impenetrable , but you’d fallen for him anyway. you thought that maybe your love , your patience , would be enough to reach him. when you finally confessed , he didn’t say it back. but he didn’t push you away , either; he accepted , just as he was , without promises , without declarations.

and even now , you’re still here , still hoping that someday he’ll let you in fully. that he’ll say what he’s never said, do what he’s never done. because despite the doubts , despite the hurt , you can’t help but love him—love him fiercely , stubbornly , just as he is.

everyone warned you about katsuki. friends , family , even random strangers—everyone seemed to have an opinion on the fiery boy you’d fallen for. but honestly? at the time , you couldn’t care less. you were infatuated , blinded by the sparks of his personality , by the way his eyes lit up with passion when he talked about his dreams. you thought you could break through those walls , that your patience and understanding would be enough to unlock his heart.

but oh boy , weren’t they right. his mother , mitsuki , always told you he was a hard nut to crack. you’d laughed it off at first , brushing it aside with a confident smile, convinced that love would triumph over everything. yet here you were, five years later , and the silence from him was deafening. not a single ‘I love you.’ not a hint of vulnerability. just the same stubborn façade that had you questioning everything.

as time passed , your patience began to crack , slowly but surely. every day felt like a reminder of the things left unsaid , the feelings left unexpressed. you’d catch glimpses of his warmth—his laughter , the rare soft smile just for you—but it never seemed to translate into the words you craved. each moment of silence became heavier , weighing on your heart like an anchor , and the confidence you once had began to erode.

you still loved him , fiercely , but doubt crept in like a shadow. was it enough? were you enough? the reality was that despite your best efforts , you were starting to feel like an outsider in your own relationship , waiting in vain for a signal that might never come.

everything about your love life felt like a curse , a twisted joke from the universe. you never experienced love before , but you’ve dreamt about it for years—the warmth , the passion , the feeling of truly belonging to someone. you’d imagined soft moments , whispered promises , the kind of love that felt like home. but this . . this didn’t feel like that. it didn’t feel like love was supposed to feel. it felt heavy , lonely , as if you were always reaching out but never quite touching something real.

while your friends gushed about romantic dates , surprise kisses , and the happiness that filled their relationships , you sat in silence , wondering what went wrong. their stories were full of laughter and light , a stark contrast to the quiet ache you felt beside katsuki. you’d listen , smile along , but inside you were haunted by a constant, nagging question: why didn’t you feel that way? why didn’t he look at you like that , say the things that seemed to come so naturally for others?

you’d tried to be patient , tried to believe that maybe he just showed his love differently , that if you gave it time , he’d finally let you in. but time only deepened the silence , and slowly , you began to wonder if you were holding onto something that was never truly yours. it hurt , this slow realization , the feeling that maybe you’d been holding on to a dream rather than a real connection. you wanted to feel loved , wanted to feel seen. but with katsuki , love felt like a distant memory of a dream , something almost within reach but never fully there.

one night , you decided to put everything on the line. you’d planned it out , every last detail , determined to remind both of you of why you started this journey together. you asked katsuki if he was free , and he’d say yes , maybe a little distracted , but you brushed it off. there was something special waiting for him at your place—a surprise that you’d poured your heart into. you’d spent hours cooking his favorite dishes , setting the table with candles and flowers , creating the kind of evening you’d always dreamed of sharing with him.

but as the hours ticked by , the food grew cold , the candles burned down , and the flowers began to wilt. you sat there , waiting , glancing at your phone every few minutes , hoping for a message , a call—something. nothing came. when he finally showed up , it was late , too late for the carefully prepared meal or the soft ambiance you worked so hard to create. he walked in with an air of indifference , unaware of how much you’d poured into the evening.

in that moment , something in you finally snapped. you looked at the ruined evening—the cold food , the candles reduced to melted puddles , the flowers that had lost their bloom—and felt the weight of all the times you waited , hoped , and compromised. all the moments you’d convinced yourself that he cared , that maybe , just maybe , this time would be different. but here you were , watching your hopes fade in front of you , just like the evening you’d planned for him.

you took a shaky breath , feeling a strange calm wash over you. this wasn’t anger—it was clarity. you had finally , truly had enough.

“Y/N , baby—’m so sorry. i lost—” katsuki’s voice was a fragile whisper , breaking through the steady drum of rain pounding outside. his eyes flickered with something that looked like regret , but it was too little , too late.

“don’t.” you interrupted , your voice barely a rasp. “don’t say my name like that. like i’m—” your throat tightened , and you struggled to get the words out. “like i’m someone you don’t know.” the words were raw , cutting , and they hung in the space between you , filling the room with a quiet ache.

for so long , he’d kept you at a distance , holding you at arm’s length as if you were something fragile he didn’t dare get too close to. every feeling he had for you stayed carefully locked away , hidden beneath layers of pride , fear, and the barriers he’d built around his heart. you tried to break through , to reach him , but every time , he’d shut you out , leaving you to wonder if you’d imagined all the small signs of affection he’d shown.

“do you think I’m some idiot who can’t see through you?” you said , your voice trembling, thick with the weight of all the frustration and heartache you’d bottled up. “do you think I can’t tell that you don’t care? that you—” your voice cracked , and you took a shaky breath. “that you don’t love me?”

katsuki flinched , as if your words had struck him like a physical blow. you could see the truth of it in his face , that same feeling he’d always tried so hard to deny , now surfacing in the vulnerable look in his eyes. he was terrified , and you realized that maybe that was what he’d been fighting all along—not you , but the depth of his own feelings.

the silence between you stretched , heavy with the weight of things left unsaid , of love given but never fully returned. and in that silence , his defenses crumbled.

“angel. . i’m sorry” he whispered , voice so soft it barely reached you. there was a desperate ache in the way he looked at you now , like he was finally letting himself feel the things he’d buried deep down. but it wasn’t enough. not this time.

“why do you keep saying sorry? like I’m some mistake you made?” you asked , stepping closer. “you think this is easy for me? that it doesn’t hurt every time i try to reach you and you pull away? I’m— I’m trying here , katsuki. i need you to try , too.”

his gaze flickering with an intensity you hadn’t seen before. his breathing was unsteady , his walls slowly , painfully crumbling.

“i’m scared , okay?” his words were raw , almost broken. “scared of losing you. scared of . .messin’ this up. i don’t know how to do this , how to keep you close without—without breakin’ everything.”

“katsuki , i can’t keep doing this.”

your words were a crack in his armor , one he wasn’t ready for. he wanted to snap back , to make you regret for all of this , to push you away like he always did when he felt too much. but the look in your eyes kept him silent.

“i’ve been patient.” you continued , looking down at your hands. “i’ve tried to understand you , tried to get close , but. . you won’t let me.”

“it’s not . .it’s not that simple.” he muttered , his voice low and rough.

you shook your head , a sad smile crossing your lips. “it is that simple. you either care or you don’t , and right now , it feels like you’re just. . holding me at arm’s length.”

the pain in your voice sliced through him , but bakugo couldn’t bring himself to meet your gaze. he’d never been good with this— with emotions , with words. he’d been raised to be tough , to be the best , to never show weakness. but he couldn’t ignore the ache in his chest when he looked at you , the emptiness that gnawed at him whenever you weren’t around.

still , his words came out colder than he intended. “i didn’t ask you to wait for me.” he said harshly , fists clenched so hard they shook.

you almost wanted to yell , to throw back that same intensity he so often used , to let him feel even a fraction of the frustration and heartache that had been building up inside you. but instead , you stayed silent , staring at him , the anger in your chest giving way to a heavy , aching sadness. tears blurred your vision , slipping out before you could stop them , and the hurt in your gaze was unmistakable.

it was almost like he was blaming you—for loving him , for trying , for giving him everything you had while he held back. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing , couldn’t believe that he was standing there , looking at you with that guarded expression , while you were breaking right in front of him. all the times you’d put yourself out there , all the times you’d tried to be patient , to understand , to give him the space he needed—only to be met with walls he refused to lower.

he seemed to falter at the sight of your tears , his own frustration fading as he saw the hurt in your eyes. “damn it , angel , I—” he reached out , hand hovering near your shoulder , but he didn’t close the distance. you could tell he didn’t know how to fix this , didn’t know how to bridge the gap he created between you.

the words tumbled out before you could stop them , low and broken. “it feels like i’m being punished for loving you.” you whispered. “like every time I try , every time I give you another piece of me , you just. . push me further away.”

his face fell , the sharpness in his gaze softening as he took in the weight of your words. he opened his mouth to say something , but nothing came out. you could see the conflict in his eyes , the same stubborn pride that had kept him from opening up , the fear he hid behind all his anger and silence. but tonight , you didn’t have the energy to wait for him to sort it out. you’d already waited too long.

“maybe i just . .expected too much.” you whispered , your voice barely audible as you brushed away a stray tear. “maybe i thought you’d love me back the way i love you.”

and with that , the silence between you grew deeper , filling the room with everything that had gone unsaid for too long.

“i don’t want to do this anymore— do you even love me back , katsuki?” you asked , your voice breaking as tears streamed down your red-tinted cheeks. you looked at him through your wet eyelashes , desperation and hurt mingling in your gaze , and he felt his heart clench at the sight. the question hung heavy in the air , almost suffocating , as if it were a storm cloud ready to burst.

katsuki stood frozen , unable to mutter a single word. the truth was written all over his face , a mixture of guilt and self-loathing swirling in his chest. he knew he’d messed up , that he was a jerk for keeping you at arm’s length when all you wanted was to be close. you deserved better than the asshole he was , better than the half-hearted love he had to offer. but deep down , a part of him couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go. he wanted to be selfish , to keep your love all to himself , even if it meant being the one who hurt you.

he took a shaky breath , torn between the overwhelming desire to reach out and pull you close and the reality that he might never be able to give you what you truly needed. “Y/N . .” he finally began , but the words fell away , lost in the weight of the moment. he wanted to tell you that he cared , that he felt something fierce and undeniable whenever he looked at you , but saying the words felt impossible.

the silence stretched painfully , each passing second feeling like a nail driven deeper into your heart. you could see it in his eyes—the turmoil , the confusion , the fear. and in that moment , you understood something fundamental: he was scared , scared of what loving you fully would mean , scared of losing you if he let himself go.

but fear wasn’t enough to excuse the pain he had caused. “i can’t keep pretending everything’s okay.” you said , voice shaking. “i can’t keep hoping you’ll change , hoping you’ll finally let me in.”

the tears continued to fall , and you felt a part of you breaking—maybe it was the part that had held onto hope for too long , or the part that had believed he could change. h you wanted him to fight for you , to show you that you were worth the risk. but right now , all you felt was the weight of uncertainty.

katsuki swallowed hard , the knot in his throat tightening as he faced the truth of your words. he wanted to be the man you deserved , to be someone who could love you back fully , without reservations. but how could he do that when he was still trying to understand his own feelings?.

it had been three weeks since katsuki walked away from you , his final words echoing in your mind like a bitter reminder of all that had gone wrong. ‘i can’t do this right now!’ he had shouted , frustration and pain etched into his features. it had felt like a slap , and you couldn’t hold back the tears when he turned and left.

days had turned into a haze of muted colors and empty spaces. you spent your nights staring at the ceiling , wondering where he was , if he was thinking of you. you kept your phone close , convinced that any moment would bring his name flashing across the screen. but as each day passed without a call or text , the silence became a weight you struggled to lift.

you missed his fiery spirit , his relentless energy. you missed the way he would challenge you , push you , and the way his laughter would fill the empty spaces. but you also remembered the moments of anger , the clashes that had turned into arguments, the way he would sometimes shut you out like a protective wall , pushing you away instead of leaning on you.

meanwhile , on the other side of the city , katsuki was wrestling with his own demons. he had thrown himself into training after leaving you , hoping that physical exhaustion would drown out the guilt gnawing at his insides. the usual exhilaration of pushing himself to his limits felt hollow without you there to share it with. each time he returned home , the silence greeted him like an old friend , and it was suffocating.

he tried to ignore it , to brush off the growing sense of emptiness that had replaced the warmth of your presence. but it clung to him , wrapped around his chest like a vice. he was a hero , dammit! he was supposed to be strong , to have everything under control. but without you , he felt nothing but chaotic and lost.

the memory of your last conversation replayed in his mind like an endless loop. you had asked him to be open , to share his feelings , but he had recoiled instead. he had let his pride take over , too stubborn to admit how much he cared , too scared to face the vulnerability that came with loving someone as deeply as he loved you.

weeks passed , and one evening , while staring out at the city lights from his window , it hit him hard. the realization was like a punch to the gut— he had pushed you away when all you wanted was to be there for him. he had messed up , let his anger cloud his judgment , and in doing so , he had left the one person who truly understood him.

katsuki tightened his fists , his nails biting into his palms. the pain was a shallow echo of the ache in his chest. he couldn't take it anymore. he was done running , done letting his pride and fear hold him hostage. he needed to see you , to fix what he had broken . . even if he didn’t know how.

that night , he stood outside your door , hesitating as his hand hovered over the wood. for the first time in years , he felt genuinely afraid—not of failure , not of danger , but of losing you for good. he finally knocked , his heart hammering in his chest as he heard the faint shuffle of footsteps on the other side.

when you opened the door , the sight of him stole your breath. his usually sharp , fiery eyes looked dim , weighed down by exhaustion and regret. for a moment , neither of you spoke , the silence brimming with the unspoken words of weeks apart.

“i—” katsuki started , his voice cracking slightly. he cleared his throat , looking away for a second before meeting your gaze again. “i’m sorry.”

those two words hit you like a wave , breaking through the walls you had built to keep the hurt at bay. but you stayed silent , waiting , needing to know what he truly felt.

“i was a damn idiot.” he admitted , his voice low but steady. “i let my own crap get in the way. i pushed you away when all you were trying to do was help me. and now i can’t stop thinking about you—about how much i screwed this up.”

“katsuki . .” your voice trembled as you spoke his name , a mix of pain and longing woven into the sound.

“i love you.” the words tumbled out of him , raw and unpolished. “i’ve never said it before because . . hell , i didn’t know how. but i do. i love you , and i’m sorry. i’m sorry for not showing it , for not saying it , for being such a damn mess.”

tears welled in your eyes as you felt the weight of his words. you had dreamed of hearing them for so long , but now they came wrapped in an apology , laced with the pain of the weeks apart. “i missed you.” you whispered , your voice barely audible. “i missed you so much , but i didn’t know if you missed me too. or if . . you were better off without me.”

katsuki shook his head vehemently , stepping closer. “never. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i was just too much of an idiot to see it.”

you searched his eyes , looking for the truth in them , and what you found was unmistakable: vulnerability , regret , and a fierce kind of love that burned brighter than his usual fire. without thinking , you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him , kissing him like there was no tomorrow. he froze for a second before his arms came around your waist , holding you tightly , like he was afraid you might slip away.

“i love you too.” you murmured in-between the kiss , and you felt him exhale , a shuddering breath of relief.

your kiss deepened , turning into a heated make-out session as your fingers tangled in his blond locks , tugging softly yet firmly. he groaned against your lips , the sound vibrating through you and sending a rush of warmth to your core. his hands , strong and deliberate , slid down from your waist until they cupped your ass , squeezing with a mix of possession and adoration.

“gosh , missed ya s’much—my beautiful girl.” he murmured against your lips , his voice thick with longing. without breaking the kiss , he stepped fully into your apartment , closing the door behind him with a casual kick of his foot. his movements were confident , purposeful , as though he memorized every inch of your space during all the times he’d been here before.

he guided you toward the living room , his lips never straying far from yours , his hands mapping every curve of your body as if grounding himself in your presence. when the back of your legs brushed against the sofa , he gently pushed you down onto the cushions , finally breaking the kiss just enough to look into your eyes. his forehead rested against yours , his breath heavy and uneven , but his gaze was soft , almost reverent.

“been waiting for such an idiot like me.” he muttered , his thumb brushing over your cheek as he cupped your face. “and you still love me.” his lips quirked into a small , almost disbelieving smile , his eyes glinting with a mix of affection and determination. “let me make it up to you, sweet girl , yeah?”

you nodded eagerly , your breath hitching as his lips immediately found their way to your neck. he trailed hot , open-mouthed kisses along your skin , leaving marks in his wake—each one deliberate , each one claiming you in a way that made your head spin. his hands roamed your body , finding the hem of your top and tugging at it , patiently waiting for your response.

“can i take this off , princess?” he murmured against your neck , his voice husky and dripping with desire. his words sent a shiver down your spine , and you could only respond with a needy whine , your hands already reaching to help him. that was all the confirmation he needed.

with a grin tugging at his lips , he slowly lifted your shirt , his knuckles grazing your skin as he revealed more of you inch by inch. he paused for a moment , bending down to press soft , lingering kisses up your stomach. each kiss felt like fire against your skin , igniting a heat that spread through your entire body. his lips moved with a teasing slowness , savoring the way you reacted to him , your body arching slightly under his touch.

he finally pulled your top over your head , tossing it aside without a second thought , his gaze dropping to take you in. his lips curled into a lopsided smile , a mix of admiration and hunger in his eyes. “so damn gorgeous.” he muttered , his hands finding their way back to your waist as his mouth hovered just above yours , teasing yet full of promise.

his lips traveled down to your collarbone , placing slow , deliberate kisses along the delicate curve of your skin. each press of his mouth sent sparks through your body , leaving you breathless. his hands slid around your back , his fingers working deftly to unhook your bra. the soft click of the clasp was accompanied by his low whisper , “there we go , princess.”

your own hands , trembling slightly with anticipation , slipped under his shirt. your fingers traced over the hard planes of his chest and stomach , feeling every muscle beneath his warm skin. as your touch wandered , you couldn’t help but linger on the scars scattered across his body , remnants of the battles he’d fought. they told stories he rarely spoke of , and yet , as you ran your hands over them , he didn’t pull away. instead , he leaned into your touch , his breath hitching slightly as your fingers explored.

his shirt felt almost in the way now , a barrier between you and the heat of his body. your fingers curled at the hem , ready to tug it off, but before you could , he leaned back just enough to pull it over his head himself , tossing it aside like it was nothing. his gaze locked onto yours , burning and intense , as he leaned back in , his lips finding their way to the spot just below your ear. “keep touching me.” he murmured against your skin , his voice rough with need. “i love feeling your hands on me.”

and you did exactly as he told you , your hands exploring every inch of his skin as they slowly trailed lower , moving from his chest down to his toned stomach. each touch elicited a low , pleased rumble from deep in his throat , like he couldn’t get enough of the way your fingers felt on him. his hands , rough and eager , cupped your breasts , his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. the touch sent a wave of heat rushing through you , making your breath hitch.

his lips found yours again , this time with more urgency, as your hands dipped beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. your fingers brushed against the heat of his growing arousal , and he let out a shaky groan against your lips , his body stiffening slightly at the sensation. the sound was raw and needy , sending a thrill straight through you as you pressed your palm against him , feeling the firmness beneath your touch.

“damn , princess.” he muttered against your mouth , his voice low and strained as his grip on your chest tightened slightly. his forehead rested against yours , his breath coming in heavy pants as you continued to tease him. “you’re gonna drive me crazy.” his hips instinctively pressed into your hand , seeking more of the friction you were offering , and it made you realize just how much power you had over him in this moment.

after a few more minutes of him toying with your breasts , his tongue swirling around your nipples and his lips sucking gently until they were swollen and sensitive , you could feel the heat between you both becoming unbearable. every touch , every sound , every movement only added fuel to the fire that had been steadily building. your hand continued to tease him , your fingers brushing over the tip of his cock through the fabric , feeling the dampness that had already started to form. the soft groans he let out only encouraged you further.

but it wasn’t enough—not for either of you. the tension in the air was thick , almost suffocating , and when his lips left your chest to meet your gaze , his eyes were dark with unrestrained desire. “enough teasing , princess.” he muttered , his voice husky and rough as his hands gripped your waist firmly. “i need you.”

without wasting another second , he gently pushed you down , fully laying you back against the couch. his movements were hurried but careful , his hands tugging at your pants as he slid them off with ease , tossing them somewhere behind him. he didn’t even pause before yanking off his own sweatpants and boxers , the fabric pooling at his feet as he kicked them aside.

his gaze raked over your now nearly bare body , and the way he looked at you—like you were the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen—sent shivers down your spine. leaning down , he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips , pulling your panties to the side as his hands settling on either side of your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. “been dreaming about this , baby.” he whispered against your mouth , his voice dripping with sincerity and longing. “let me show you how much i’ve missed you.”

[hoshifighting]

Ex Boyfriend! Seungcheol – Jealous! Seungcheol — Synopsis: Where after a company get-together, you meet your ex-boyfriend, who wants to make you jealous. He just doesn't expect that your friend Joshua is ready to help you too. — WC: 3.4k — WARNINGS: Smut, angst, overstimulation, spit as lube, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, masturbation (m. and f. receiving), hair pulling, aftercare, eye contact, dirty talk and etc.

As you stepped into the office party, your heart raced. 

You hadn't seen Seungcheol since the breakup, and you had been avoiding him whenever possible–like working in the home office for weeks. But now, you couldn't help but feel a mix of nerves as you spotted him across the room, surrounded by colleagues.

As you took a deep breath and plastered on a small smile, you noticed your friends Minji and Seokmin waving at you from a nearby table. You made your way over to them, grateful to have some familiar faces among the crowd.

"So good to see you!" Seokmin exclaimed, pulling you into a warm hug. "We were starting to think you wouldn't show up."

You huff and roll your eyes at Seokmin's remark, grumbling that you would rather be anywhere else. Seokmin and Minji exchange knowing glances as they catch sight of Seungcheol watching you from across the room.

Seokmin leans in, giving you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "He's still looking at you."

You grimace, trying to focus on your friends and the conversation at hand, but you can't help but feel his gaze burning into your back.

You continue chatting with your friends, but their constant glances over your shoulder start to draw your attention. Eventually, curiosity gets the better of you, and you ask them what's going on. However, they remain stubbornly silent.

Finally, you can't take it anymore and turn around to see what's caught their interest.

And there he is – Seungcheol, dancing with Eunji on the dance floor.

Your friends wait for your reaction, but they weren't expecting the sound of your laughter to echo through the room. 

You chuckle to yourself, finding the situation utterly ridiculous and amusing. Your friends exchange glances, not quite sure how to respond to your sudden outburst.

"Did you just laugh?" Seokmin asks in disbelief.

Minji looks shocked at your reaction, wondering if you've lost your sanity or if this is all some elaborate joke.

As you continue laughing uncontrollably, you manage to sputter out a revelation between giggles.

"Guys," you whisper to Seokmin and Minji, "Eunji likes girls. Remember when she tried to ask me out?"

Minji and Seokmin exchange disbelieving glances, their jaws dropping open. "Wait, what?" Seokmin stutters.

You nod, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. "Yep. She asked me out once, and I had to turn her down because I was with Seungcheol - secretly, of course."

You chuckle to yourself, realizing that Eunji isn't interested in Seungcheol at all.

As you laugh and share the joke with Seokmin and Minji, you feel a gentle touch on your shoulder. You turn around to find Joshua standing there, a curious smile on his face.

"What's so funny?" he asks, genuinely curious about the laughter coming from your small group.

As you try to stifle your laughter, a mischievous idea suddenly sparks to life in your mind, like a light bulb flickering to life. You look up at Joshua, a hint of playful glint in your eyes.

Joshua quirks an eyebrow, but before he can inquire further, you chime in with a question of your own.

"Hey, how come you're not dancing with anyone? Got any secret dance moves tucked up your sleeves?"

Joshua grins and stretches out his hand to lead you to the dance floor. You share a knowing wink with Seokmin and Minji, who smile incredulously, sensing the potential entertainment ahead.

As you accept his offer and step onto the dance floor, the music envelops you, and your bodies effortlessly start to move in sync.

Joshua leans in, a mischievous smile on his lips, and whispers, "I know what you're up to. Are you making Seungcheol jealous?" 

"Do you intend to be my partner in crime for the night?" You ask sly.

"I'm all in." he assures you while chuckling. "I'll not only play along, but I'll even offer to take you home."

As you and Joshua lean in close together, discussing your plan, Seungcheol can't help but notice your proximity. The sight fuels his jealousy, and his fingernails dig into his palms, a subtle sign of his frustration.

As the night progressed, you found yourself at the bar, nursing a drink and enjoying the company of Joshua. The alcohol loosens your inhibitions, and you relish in the newfound friendship. Meanwhile, Seungcheol, consumed by jealousy, ignores the colleagues attempting to engage him in conversation, his gaze occasionally flicking towards you and Joshua.

As you follow Joshua towards the garage, you can feel Seungcheol's gaze burning into your back. He watches you both step into the grey car, and his resentment simmers beneath the surface. Every detail, from the grey car to your black dress, infuriates him. He clenches his fists tightly, hating everything about the situation, but most of all, he blames himself for letting you go.

As Seungcheol's mind raced with worry and speculation, he tormenting himself with the possibilities of what you were doing in that car with Joshua. Were you at the other man's home, or were you in the familiar surroundings of the home he knew so well? Had you kissed him, or even more?

The thought of it all drove him mad, and he could do nothing but pace around, trying to find a way to calm himself down and think straight.

Despite Seungcheol's torturous thoughts, the reality was much more mundane. After dancing and drinking together all night, Joshua had kindly offered to take you home. He left you off safely at your doorstep, and you went to bed with a blissfully empty head.

As you sat on the couch the next morning, sipping your cup of tea and idly watching a show on TV, you heard a sharp knock at the door. 

Surprised, you set down your tea and padded barefoot towards the door. As you swung it open, your breath caught in your throat. 

Standing there, looking disheveled and tired, was Seungcheol. His hair was tousled, and his eyes bore a look of exhaustion, but there was something different about him now. This time, he wasn't here with a box in hand. Instead, his gaze was fixed on you, intense and full of unspoken words.

As Seungcheol stepped into your home, his fingers firmly grasping your shoulder, he subjected you to a silent analysis. His eyes skimmed over your appearance, taking in the absence of hickeys on your neck, the tangle-free state of your hair, and the adorable pajama set decorated with cats – a favorite of yours when you slept alone.

"Where's he?" Seungcheol's question hung in the air.

You cross your arms, arching an eyebrow and responding with a question of your own "What are you doing here, Seungcheol?" He shuts the door behind him as you await his answer.

Seungcheol takes a breath, his gaze never wavering from your face. "Do you have any idea what you put me through last night?" he asks, his voice low. "Did you even consider for a moment how I felt watching you with Joshua all night?"

"Did you even consider for a moment how I felt watching you with Eunji all night?" You repeat.

You felt nothing more than pity that his little theatrics had lost its appeal too soon for you.

Seungcheol scoffs. "You're throwing that back at me? Really?" he says, his voice tinged with disbelief. 

Despite your nonchalant manner, there was a hint of satisfaction in your eyes, knowing your performance had been more authentic than his.

His face twists into a frown, realizing that his attempt to make you jealous had backfired. "I watched you all night, seeing you dancing with Joshua. I thought –“ he starts, but you cut him off. 

"What did you think?" you ask, your voice cold. "That I would come running back to you like a loyal dog? That I'd be so devastated by your display with Eunji that I'd run back into your arms?"

"You're different." The raw emotion in his voice catches you off guard, making you wonder what he meant. He continues, "Last time, you cried and clung to me, begging me not to leave you, but now...  now, you're standing here, cold and indifferent, like you never loved me at all." "I don't understand," he murmurs. "How can you be so cold... so detached, after everything we had?"

"Everything we had?" you echo, a hint of disbelief in your voice. "Seungcheol, at some point, you'd rather hole up in your office all day than be with me." 

"I broke up with you because I thought it would be better for you," he admits softly. "I couldn't provide you with the attention and time you deserved, and I thought ending it was the right thing to do."

A hint of irritation creeps into your voice as you reply, "And now you're here because I was enjoying myself with someone else?"

"Enjoying with... Someone else." His eyes darken, and you can see the flicker of possessive anger sparking within him at the mere mention of your time with someone else.

"Did you come here just because you can't handle the idea of me fucking with Joshua?" 

The words have barely left your lips when he suddenly slams your body against the wall, his hot breath mingling with yours as his lips hover barely an inch from yours.

Seungcheol's breath is uneven as he speaks, his voice a low, husky tone. "I... couldn't bear the thought of you doing that–" he admits, his fingers curling fiercely into the fabric of your clothes. "with him."

The words trail off as he can no longer resist the magnetic pull between you, and he closes the gap, his lips capturing yours in a hot, desperate kiss.

Seungcheol deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily, as if trying to make up for lost time. He missed every inch of you, from the taste of your lips to the way you sighed in his arms. 

Even the familiar scent of your house and the sound of your voice sent jolts of longing and nostalgia coursing through him. He needed to experience all of you, every aspect he'd been craving for so long.

Seungcheol swiftly bends you over the arm of the sofa, the urgency in his actions evident. You can hear the sound of his belt being undone, the click of the buckle echoing through the room. His movements are rough and impatient, consumed by the overpowering desire he feels for you.

He yanks down your shorts and panties in one swift motion, the fabric pooling on the ground. You hear him spit, the warm line of saliva landing on your pussy, making you squirm. Seungcheol's grip on your arm tightens as he holds it behind your back, keeping you in place.

"Stay still," he commands, his voice low and authoritative.

You can feel his cock, thick and hard, pressing against your entrance. The anticipation is almost unbearable as he lines himself up with you, his breath ragged with need.

Without any more warning, Seungcheol thrusts into you, filling you completely in one swift motion. The stretch is intense, and you can't help but gasp, your fingers digging into the arm of the sofa. His cock feels impossibly thick inside you, every inch of him stretching you deliciously.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Seungcheol groans, his voice laced with pleasure.

He begins to move, each thrust deep and powerful, hitting you in all the right places. The sound of skin slapping against skin, and the moisty sounds of your wet cunt, fills the room, mingling with your gasps and his moans. His free hand slides down your body, finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

In that position, you could feel Seungcheol hitting that sweet spot again and again. The angle was perfect, and each thrust made you see stars. You sobbed against the couch, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations coursing through your body.

Seungcheol's lips brushed against your ear, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "I always find it, don't I?" he brags, each word punctuated by a powerful thrust. "Doesn't matter the time, the position... I always find it."

You can only respond with strangled moans. Every single thrust is so sharp, so deep, you feel like you're being split in half. Your walls clench around him involuntarily, heightening the sensation for both of you.

"Fuck, fuck," you stutter, your voice barely more than a whimper. "fuck this pussy... ughh, it's so good, please don't stop!"

Seungcheol pulls you by your hair, making you moan through gritted teeth. His chest presses against your back, the position making it difficult for you to moan loudly. His other hand flickers over your clit, his fingers moving so fast that your mind goes blank. Your legs quiver pathetically, unable to handle the overwhelming pleasure.

The intensity of his touch, combined with the relentless thrusting, sends you spiraling into anr orgasm. Your body convulses with pleasure, your walls clamping down around him as you scream his name. Seungcheol groans, feeling your tightness increase, driving him to the edge.

"That's it," he growls in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Cum for me. I want to feel you creaming around this cock."

And you do. You lose yourself in the sensation, your body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Seungcheol wasn’t done with you yet. Just as you thought you couldn’t handle any more, he flipped you around. Your hips rested on the arm of the sofa while your upper body collapsed onto the cushions, leaving you in an awkward, yet perfect position for him. He knelt down, his face level with your dripping core.

You screamed from the sensitivity, your legs instinctively trying to close around his head. But Seungcheol held you still, his grip firm and unyielding. His mouth latched onto your clit greedily, sucking and licking with fervor. The sensation was overwhelming, your body convulsing with each flick of his tongue.

“Seungcheol, please,” you whimpered, the overstimulation making you tremble. Your legs quivered, desperate to close, but his strong hands kept them apart.

He was relentless, his tongue swirling under the hood of your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. You arched your back, pushing your hips against his mouth, needing more even as you felt like you were about to break.

His mouth was sloppy and wet, every movement precise and determined. You clenched around nothing, your body aching to be filled again, but he was focused on driving you over the edge with just his mouth. The intensity was too much, and you felt another orgasm building quickly.

“Fuck, Seungcheol,” you cried out, your voice trembling with desperation. "G-good! Yes, yes, yes!" 

He didn’t stop. He continued to devour you, his tongue working magic on your sensitive clit. Your cries grew louder, your body shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure became too much to bear. You were completely at his mercy, lost in the sensations he was giving you.

With a final, powerful suck, you shattered. Your body convulsed, a scream ripping from your throat as you came hard, your legs clamping around his head despite his attempts to hold them still. Seungcheol drank you in, his tongue never slowing, drawing out every last wave of your orgasm until you were left trembling and breathless.

Finally, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. 

Seungcheol moved, positioning himself above you, his heavy cock resting on your belly. The weight of it making you gasp, anticipation bubbling up inside you. He began to stroke himself, his hand moving up and down his slick, creamy shaft. The wet noises filled the room, mingling with the sounds of your heavy breathing.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. You obeyed, your eyes locking onto his. The intensity in his gaze was almost too much to bear, but you held it, watching every move he made.

His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to touch himself, his hand moving faster. His mouth opened, releasing the filthiest moans you’d ever heard, each one sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. You could see the raw pleasure on his face, the way his body tensed and relaxed with each stroke.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Just like that. Keep looking at me.”

You did, your eyes never leaving his, even as your body trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm. The sight of him, so lost in his own pleasure, was almost enough to push you over the edge again. You could see every detail – the way his muscles tightened, the way his cock pulsed in his hand, the way his mouth fell open as he moaned your name.

His hand moved faster, the sounds growing louder, wetter. You could feel his cock twitching against your skin, and you knew he was close. The sight of him, so vulnerable and raw, was almost too much to bear. You watched as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips.

His moans grew louder, more desperate, and you could see the moment he reached his peak. His body tensed, his hand moving erratically as he came, thick ropes of cum spilling onto your belly. His eyes never left yours, the connection between you intense and unbroken.

Seungcheol's eyes fluttered closed as he stood still, his chest heaving as he regulated his breath. You watched him, feeling the warmth and intimacy of the moment settle over you like a soft blanket. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and looked at you with a tender, almost reverent expression.

Gently, he reached out and lifted you, his strong arms cradling you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. He adjusted your position, making sure you were comfortable before he began to carry you towards the bathroom.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. He always insisted on aftercare, claiming it was essential, and you couldn’t agree more. It was these moments of tenderness and care that made you feel cherished and safe.

As he carried you, you nestled your head against his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting lullaby. The bathroom light flickered on, casting a warm glow over the room. Seungcheol set you down gently on the edge of the bathtub, his hands lingering on your skin for a moment longer than necessary, as if reluctant to let go.

He turned on the tap, adjusting the water temperature before filling a soft washcloth with warm, soapy water. Kneeling in front of you, he began to clean you with gentle, meticulous care, his touch light and reassuring. The warm water and his soothing touch eased the lingering tension from your body, leaving you feeling relaxed and cared for.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

"I'm okay," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "More than okay."

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Good."

As he continued to clean you, his movements were slow and deliberate, each stroke of the washcloth a reminder of how much he cared for you. When he was satisfied that you were clean, he helped you into a soft, fluffy towel, wrapping it around you with the same tender care he had shown throughout.

Seungcheol then quickly cleaned himself up before guiding you back to the bedroom. He pulled back the covers and helped you into bed, tucking the blanket around you before sliding in beside you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

As you lay in Seungcheol's arms, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite the events of the evening, you felt safe and loved in his embrace, and for now, that was enough.

You murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "We'll talk when we wake up, okay?"

Seungcheol tightened his arms around you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Okay," he agreed, his voice filled with understanding.

With that silent agreement, you both drifted off to sleep, the warmth and comfort of each other's presence lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

However, as the afternoon grows, the sounds from the city echoes, disturbing the quiet stillness of the room, your phone buzzes softly on the bedside table, jolting you awake. You reached for it groggily, blinking away the remnants of sleep as you squinted at the screen.

It was a message from Joshua.

"Did it work?" he asked, his words tinged with curiosity.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you typed out your response.

"It worked." 

[sunvmars]

only you || s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x reader (brief platonic!nat, sam, and bucky.)

*navigation/directory | request box | taglist | masterlist

word count: 7.1k summary: only a few weeks after a breakup, you go out for the night with the team. steve doesn’t show up, and he’s been purposefully not showing up to anything non-work related after the breakup. however, tonight you drink a little too much, and insist that steve pick you up. warnings: angst (breakup, talk of bullying, body image issues), swearing, drinking, *smutty implications.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't know who else to call," Sam explains, his voice raised to speak louder than the blaring music.

"She keeps asking for you, and she won't go with anyone but you," Bucky adds as he and Sam lead Steve through the crowded dancefloor.

The blond sighs and shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans. "It's alright, really, but just how drunk is she, exactly?"

Before Sam can respond, they come to a stop right in front of the team's reserved booth. Bruce had only come for all of an hour of the night, but Clint and Tony had left about thirty minutes prior to Steve's arrival, leaving your well-being in Natasha, Bucky, and Sam's hands.

Steve looks over you and Nat; you're laid down on the long, cushioned seat with your head resting on her lap. Her jacket is slung over your lower half to cover your exposed legs from your dress rising up on your thighs. You're looking up at her adoringly, reaching up to twirl strands of her hair between your fingers as you mumble about how pretty her hair is.

"That answer your question?" Sam whispers, chuckling slightly.

Another sigh falls from Steve's lips, and although his heart aches, he has to stop himself from cracking a smile. "That it does."

He steps closer to the booth, taking in the sight of you with softened eyes. Typically, you never let yourself get this drunk, not in the public eye at least. Even though it's clear you've had more than a bit too much to drink, the sight is endearing.

Nat directs her attention from you and up at the three men approaching the table instead. Her expression is one of amusement with a slight hint of relief as she looks down at you again. "Hey, look who's here, honey," she says softly to you.

You turn your head in her lap and let your hands fall back down, finally releasing her hair from your gentle grip. Your eyes land on Steve and you blink up at him before a wide, drunken smile spreads on your face.

"Steeeeve!" you exclaim in a slur, reaching your hand out for him. "You came!"

He crouches down next to the booth, hesitantly taking your hand into his. "Hey, doll. 'Course I came, I always will. Looks like you've had fun tonight, huh?"

You nod excitedly and your smile spreads into a grin. "Nat's hair is sooo pretty, did ya know that? 'S soft too, like a pillow," you ramble, your words somehow not coming out scrambled.

"I bet," Steve says, watching Nat brush your hair out of your face. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

"Your home?" you ask in a softer voice.

Right. His home.

"I don't..." Steve starts before falling into silent contemplation.

He looks up at Nat who's already looking back at him, her expression apologetic and soft. Then his eyes shift back down to you, and his heart clenches in his chest. Your eyelashes flutter as you blink at him, your eyes light up and twinkle in a way that they only do for him, and your lips part a little as you take slower breaths.

How could he say no to that?

"Sure, yeah, we'll go back to mine," he concedes gently, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

You smile again and scramble to sit upright. Nat lays a hand on your back to help keep you balanced, Steve taking your other hand in his free one to pull you up gently. When you're sat up straight, he takes Nat's jacket off your legs and helps you tug your dress back down.

He slides your phone off the table and into his pocket before throwing your arms around his neck. You take the hint to hold on as he slides one of his arms under your legs and the other behind your back.

Effortlessly, he lifts you into his arms. You clasp your hands together behind his neck and a giggle slips out of your lips- a sound that was once music to his ears which had now become one he longed to hear again.

"G'night, Nat," you say sweetly, turning your head to look at her.

Steve's body follows the direction of your head, turning towards the table so you don't strain your neck. Her eyes meet yours and she smiles at you once more.

"Goodnight, babe. Text me tomorrow, alright?" she requests before looking up at Steve and saying, "Make sure to get some water in her, we had to trick her into drinking some by watering down her tequila."

"Will do-"

Your gasp cuts Steve off effectively, her words only just now sinking in. "That wasn't tequila?!" you exclaim, your voice coming out quieter than you realize.

The three at the table laugh a little- even Steve lets out a low chuckle of his own.

"I'll let you in on a secret," Nat starts, her voice dropping to a whisper before continuing, "It was definitely tequila, but you know these guys are no fun, so we can't tell them that."

"Ohhh, right, right. I can keep a secret- you're the world's bestest adult sitter," you reply softly.

"The best, huh?" she questions with a half smirk.

When you nod, she takes a sip of her drink, placing the glass down before saying, "I'll be expecting my plaque soon then."

"You wanna say bye to Sam and Bucky?" he asks, looking over slightly to meet your eyes.

You hum in response and he walks you over a few steps to Bucky and Sam who are sitting at the other end of the table. The pair smile at you, though it's more of an amused grin on Bucky's end, and you return the gesture.

"Bye, Bucky," you say, sleep and intoxication ridden in your voice.

Bucky chuckles and rises to his feet to ruffle your hair playfully. "Bye, doll. You get some good sleep, alright?"

Your nose scrunches at the feeling of his hand in your hair. "Always good sleep when with Stevie."

Bucky sits back down, and Sam starts to speak, "Punch it in," he instructs, raising his fist up to your level.

You oblige happily, curling your hand into a fist to the best of your ability and bumping it against his. "G'bye," you slur, nuzzling your face into the crook of Steve's neck.

"Call us if you need us," Bucky says to Steve.

"Yeah, thank you for watching over her," Steve responds appreciatively, "Goodnight, be safe getting home."

"'Night," the three say collectively, smiling at him in a way that's bordering apologetic.

Steve forces a smile before turning to walk away. He makes his way through the crowd, holding you tight and protectively against his chest.

"You can go to sleep if you want, I can tell you're sleepy," he murmurs low enough for just you to hear him.

A small whimper emits from you, making a warmth spread through his body. He looks down at you adoringly before looking back up, shifting his focus back to the rather slow journey to the exit. Although some people part to make way for who they know to be Captain America himself, most of them are too drunk to care. So, Steve focuses heavily on navigating through the maze of bodies.

When he steals a glance down at you again, you're sleeping peacefully and your head has fallen back away from his neck. You must've felt him move though, because you immediately nestle your face back into his neck, and the warmth of your breath against his skin makes him shiver. The scent of the alcohol you'd been drinking lingers, but it's mixed with the familiar fragrance of your vanilla perfume, and it creates a blend that only you could pull off.

When you reach the exit, the cold, autumn night air hits both of your faces. Steve adjusts his grip on you to make sure you're comfortable and then walks to the car he ordered that dropped him off. The driver steps out, and opens the passenger side door for the two of you, allowing Steve to slide you comfortably onto the seat.

He thanks the driver as you whine at the loss of contact. You melt sleepily into his touch when he reaches in to brush your hair behind your ear to let you know he's not leaving. The bright city lights reflect in his blue eyes, and a soft, but achy, smile plays on his lips at the sight of you. Careful not to wake you or pinch your fingers, he fastens your seatbelt, making sure you're secure before closing the car door.

He walks to the other side of the car and gets in, choosing to sit by the window instead of next to you in the middle seat. As the car starts up, he can't help but look at you and admire you. The admiration quickly turns into longing, though. He takes in every part of your face, his mind plaguing itself with the memory of just over two months ago.

"I don't think I'm right for you."

The words flow easily from your mouth like water between open fingers. Steve looks at you, utterly confused and hurt. His jaw tightens, his eyebrows furrowing as he opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again when he can't find the words.

He gets off the couch, rising to his feet and looking at you from across the room. "You want to leave, to forget everything from the last year and a half, just because you don't think you're right for me?"

The weight of your decision and his words sit heavily on your shoulders as you slouch over, putting your face in your hands for a moment. "I... I'm no good for you, Steve, and you deserve better than me... I can't be what, or who, you need."

"What are you talking about, y/n? You're perfect to me, I wouldn't trade you for anything," he explains, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring despite the fear and irritation building up in him. "Please, tell me what I can do to make you feel better and I'll do it, I'll do anything-"

"You can't do anything!" you finally snap, your emotions being misdirected towards him. You let the warm tears that were welling up fall freely from your eyes as you continue, "There's nothing you can do, Steven, I'm not the person you need, and I never will be. Drop it, just leave it at that, and move on."

"'Leave it at that?'" Steve repeats back in bewilderment. "We have been together for almost two years and you expect me to drop all of it just like that?"

All you can muster up in response is a quiet, "I'm sorry."

He watches you stand up and sling your purse over your shoulder. Desperately, he scrambles for the right words to say to make you stay. "Baby, please, tell me what's really going on here- this cannot be it for us, I won't let it be."

Steve takes long strides towards you only for you to back away from him. For some strange reason, that small action hurt worse than any of the words that came, or could possibly come, out of your mouth. He stops dead in his tracks, trying to search your face for any sign of changing your mind. When he doesn't find it, he bites down on his tongue to save himself more heartache from the useless begging he wants to let out.

"I'm sorry, Steve. You deserve better, and you always have," you mumble, wiping the tears off your cheeks and walking quickly to the front door.

"I love you," he says, only to receive no response other than the front door slamming shut as you walk out of it.

“You alright back there?” the driver’s voice snaps Steve out of his thoughts. “You need heat or air? Seat warmers? Anything?”

Steve shakes his head slightly, snapping himself out of it. His hand reaches over to you, and he rests the back of his hand on your forehead. “A little heat, thanks,” he says with a smile after nothing the tinge of cold your skin has.

“Of course,” the driver says with a returned smile as he turns the heat on.

As he avigates the familiar route to Steve’s apartment, with the sleepiness Steve feels, he's thankful for the fact that there's only a minute or two remaining of the drive. And on the other hand, he’s sulking about the short time left because that’s two minutes closer to you being gone by the time he wakes up.

He turns his gaze back to you, still peacefully asleep with your head resting against the window. The soft hum of the engine provides an almost calming backdrop that yet does nothing to soothe the ache that persists. Focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest always seems to soothe him though, and it still does so now.

The car comes to a stop in front of the apartment, and Steve reaches into his wallet to pull out some cash. He pulls out his keys too, to make it easier when he gets to the door. Then he hands the cash to the driver with a grateful nod before getting out of the car and making his way to your side. Gently, he opens the door, reaching up quickly to lean your head back on the headrest.

You grumble a little, and he's quick to ease you as he unbuckles your seatbelt. "Sorry, sweetheart, but we're home now."

"Home?" you murmur, still half asleep.

He carefully lifts you into his arms once more, and you instantly cling to his jacket. "Yeah... home."

The building's lobby is quiet as he enters through the automatic doors, the night shift doorman giving him a knowing smile. Steve offers nothing but a small and short nod in return, his focus solely on your drunken state. Luckily the elevator ride is short, but every second feels like an eternity to him.

The weight of your body curled up in his arms provides a comforting familiarity. It's a familiarity he soaks up though, having not seen you outside of work during the few missions you had together. In fact, you hadn't spoken to him outside of work since you left either.

Even during missions, you were short with your comments. And when you picked up your things from his apartment, of which you were actively moving into, you did it on a day when he was gone. You'd left your key under the mat and shot him a brief text letting him know. He replied, only asking how you were doing, but he got no response back.

The elevator dings, snapping him out of his thoughts again as he steps out, taking long strides until he reaches his door. He turns to the side, bending down ever so slightly to unlock the door with his keys in the hand hooked under your legs. He twists the doorknob and pushes the door open, carrying you inside with practiced ease.

The soft glow of outside city lights filters through the open windows. Paired with the dim tv, the lights cast a cool ambiance over the living room. With a deep breath, he heads straight to his room and slowly lays you down on the bed.

The bedroom is dark except for the blue and green aurora projected on the ceiling from the starlight projector you insisted he get since his room was too 'plain.' At first, the light kept him up at night because he found it too distracting, but since you'd left, he couldn't sleep without it on. After all, it was the only piece of you that you left with him other than the few shirts and undergarments.

Steve sighs deeply, taking your heels off your feet and placing them next to the bed. He covers you with your favorite blanket from the foot of his bed, and with a heart heavier than typical, he makes his way to the kitchen to fill up a cup with water. He then carries the glass back to the bedroom and sits it on the bedside table.

He takes a moment to simply watch you as he sits on the edge of the bed next to you. The soft features of your face relaxed in sleep makes him contemplate waking you up- you were always a peaceful sleeper, and he hated disturbing those few moments of peace.

Before he can attempt to wake you, you begin to stir, your eyelashes fluttering as your eyes slowly open. You blink slowly a few times, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, and then a sleepy smile forms on your face when you see Steve.

"Hey," he greets you softly, reaching over to offer you the glass of water from the nightstand.

"Thank you," you say.

It's obvious that you're still not sober as you take the glass and sit up too quickly, the sudden movement resulting in your head throbbing as you groan. "Ouch," you mumble, pressing the palm of your free hand against your forehead.

"You okay?"

"Think so," you reply, sitting up much slower than before.

The cool water soothes you a little as you take small sips of it. A contented sigh falls from your lips, your body appreciating the non-alcoholic beverage. You place the glass back onto its spot on the nightstand and then focus your attention back on Steve.

Your eyes reflect the projector's lights as your eyes rake over him for a few seconds. Slower than you realize, you raise your hand and brush it gently over his cheek in admiration. "You're like... like an angel, but a reaaally handsome one," you croon.

Steve chuckles, a mixture of amusement and genuine joy spreading across his features. "I'm flattered, but you're the angel here, honey," he says with a smile.

He captures your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. You giggle in response, the alcohol still evident in your system, and then your happy expression fades away. You look down, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.

"I'm sorry for, uhm, causing a fuss t'night. I never meant to ruin your night..."

The look on his face becomes one closer to sympathetic as he drops your hand, now reaching over to cup your cheek. Carefully, he forces you to look at him as he speaks. "Hey, you didn't ruin anything, alright? I'll always come when you need me, and I'm just glad you're okay."

Missing the feeling of his skin on yours all too much, you lean into his touch, letting his warmth soothe you. "Thanks for...everything."

"Anytime, truly," he replies.

There's a comfortable silence that falls between you, the weight of the obvious unspoken words lingering in the air. You look up at him, trying to keep yourself awake. Steve drops his hand and tries to memorize every detail of your face. He knows that tomorrow things will go back to how they were, and he's not sure he can stomach that.

It only takes a few more beats of silence before he breaks the said silence, his voice low and gentle. "Can we talk?" he asks, his blue eyes searching yours.

You hum for a moment, taking a slow breath before saying, "Jus' for a minute, very sleepy."

"I just... I have one question, that okay?"

"Hm?"

Steve musters up the courage to speak, only breaking apart from your gaze for a second. "Could you maybe tell me why you left? Like why you really left?"

When your eyes flicker with hesitation and sadness, he starts to regret asking. The air feels heavier than it ever has, holding the weight of everything spoken and not yet said, but he breathes it all in. Right as he's about to tell you to not worry about it, you take a deep breath and smother your vulnerability with the knowledge that he deserves the truth. Slowly as to not give yourself another headache, you nod.

"S'like I told you, that was the truth, 'm not good enough. You look at me with so much love and admiration, and I know...I know I could never live up to what you think of me," you explain, drawing out each word a little more than you would if you were sober. "'M holding you back, always have been, and you deserve better."

His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your words, his gaze intense and sharp. "I look at you like that because of who you are, not because of who I think you should be," he says in an attempt to reassure you. He reaches out to take your hand in his as he continues, "You're always been more than enough, honey. I mean, hell, you're more than I deserve, and-"

"No, no, you don't get it!" you exclaim lowly, cutting him off and taking your hand out of his grip. "Y-you're perfect, you're America's golden boy, and 'm jus' me. I hate my body, my mind, an-and everything about me. Could never be good enough for you, Steve. As if I don't already hate myself enough, everyone says and sees how much more you deserve, except for you."

Steve's mind races and his heart tightens as he takes in your words. The obvious pain in your voice cuts through him like a scalding knife, the tears welling up in your eyes cutting him even deeper. He's now sure that nothing could measure up to the pain of hearing you talk about yourself in the complete opposite way of how he thinks of you.

Silence passes as he dwells on your words. Then it clicks.

"Who's been saying that?" he questions sternly.

You avoid his gaze like the plague, immediately breaking the eye contact you were holding. Physically, you can feel yourself shrink. Whether it's the guilt from your outburst, the shame from everything you've heard and thought about yourself, or the intensity of his gaze- you're not sure.

His jaw tightens in anger, but not directed at you. "Who, y/n?"

A deep and heavy sigh falls from your lips as your eyes dart around the room. "Phone," you say quietly, holding out your hand to him.

Steve looks at your outstretched hand, confusion covering the concern etched on his face briefly. He pauses for a moment before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out your phone. Placing it in your hand, he watches closely as you unlock it with shaky fingers. Your eyes scan over the screen, but it doesn't take long for you to find what you were looking for, and your expression tells it all.

You hesitate to hand the phone to him, but you do so anyway, lying down on the bed and curling up into yourself as soon as the phone touches his hands. And, not that you see it, but his eyes narrow as he reads over everything rapidly. You'd had it all saved in a little folder; every message, every media report, every post made about you.

He's not sure what's worse of the situation, to be honest. To know that you'd felt this way about yourself for God knows how long and not have said anything about it was painful, sure. However, the words written about you were downright cruel, analytical, and simply not true at all.

But the amount of things that were written and you had saved for you to read at your whim, only reaffirming whatever untrue things you thought about yourself? That was a different level of hurt that he could imagine hurt you hundreds of times worse than it does him.

Unable to stomach anymore, he places your phone face down on the nightstand. Silently, he scoots up on the bed to be closer, reaching out to place his hand on your cheek. You flinch at the contact at first, but his touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the words you've been subjected to.

"I'm so, so sorry, my sweet girl," he says softly, trying to force down tears of his own.

You take a shaky breath in and out, your voice barely above a low murmur. "Didn't want you to leave me, so I left first."

Steve's heart sinks at your admission, his thumb gently stroking your cheek to wipe away the stray tear that escaped your eye. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that's meant to offer some kind of comfort and reassurance.

"I would've never left you, and I still won't, okay? I know you care about what they say, but I don't. Nothing could ever skew my image of you, angel, you're my definition of perfect- you don't have any image to live up to in my mind," he promises with a soft-spoken tone.

You can't find it in you to respond even though you want to, all too scared of your voice failing you. Sheer pain radiates from you to the point where it's almost suffocating. While he's more than aware that no words can take back anything you've read or heard, the simple fact that he can't undo what has already been done riddles him with guilt still.

If he could, he would take all of that ache and bear it all for you.

"When did all this start?" he inquires, waiting patiently for your answer.

"I don't know..."

"I know you do, honey, you can tell me."

"Only... Only a week after we got together, got worse after I started moving in here."

"Scoot," he instructs gently, careful to control his tone with you although he feels a deep rage.

You oblige and scoot over slowly. Almost instantly, he lays down behind you, curling up so that his body molds with yours. He brushes a few pieces of your hair back before wrapping his arm around your midsection to hold you protectively against him.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" he asks, adding on, "And you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

After thinking about it for a second, you nod. He tries to find the best way to ask what he wants to ask. Deep down he wants, but somehow already knows, the answer, yet he doesn't want to make things worse. Nor does he want it to seem like the subject is the only thing he was thinking about.

"Is…is all of this, meaning what people have said and what you think about yourself- is this why we've never, you know, done anything together?" he inquires with furrowed brows from the overwhelming amount of emotions. "I'm just asking because I never thought this would be why, I thought I was doing something wrong or you just weren't ready."

Your body tenses at his question, and you have to steady your voice before answering, "Part of it. Never felt good enough, and I didn't want you to see me like that and be disappointed."

Steve frowns, sighing lowly as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. The gesture is simple, but it effectively conveys the depth of what he feels.

"I don't care how long it takes me to convince you, but I'll spend forever trying to get you to see yourself even a fraction of the way I do if I have to," he says as his thumb traces circles on your side. "You're absolutely breathtaking, angel. Fuck anyone who says you're anything other than beautiful."

A quiet giggle slips from between your lips, unable to hold contain your momentary amusement. For the first time in a while, he smiles a real, genuine smile. "You don't know how long I've missed the sound of that pretty laugh."

"You said 'fuck,'" you tease, trying to soak in the temporary joy.

He chuckles and the sounds rumbles through his chest. "Sometimes I can be a little hypocritical, especially when it comes to protecting you."

The smile you hold fades again, and you're left with nothing but the sadness and warmth of Steve's body behind yours. "Thank you," you whisper.

Steve tightens his hold around you and presses another gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. "You don't need to thank me for telling you the truth, it's what I'm here for, and I meant every word."

The two of you lay there in silence for a while. The room stays filled only with the sounds of your delicate breathing and the occasional passing of a distant car. This time, the silence isn't agonizing though. Steve's presence makes it feel comforting, and his words make your brain go mute even if just for tonight, making the weight of the world lift just a little.

"Stevie?" you murmur, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" he responds.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist. "Don't wanna be alone t'night," you admit.

"Then you won't be," he promises softly. "Do you want me to help you out of that dress? No pressure, of course, I was just thinking it might be more comfortable for you to sleep if you changed. I think you've still got a shirt here or you could wear one of mine, and like I said I could leave if-"

"Steve?"

"...Yes?"

"Don't think I could get out of this dress by myself right now if I wanted to, and I'd love one of your shirts."

Steve smiles at your response, relief washing over him at your comfort with him. He unwraps his arm from around you, sitting up slowly before helping you sit up. When he slides off the bed, walking over to his dresser to find a shirt, you scoot yourself slowly to the edge of the bed. Your legs dangle off the edge and your shoulders slouch as you try to keep yourself awake.

With a worn-out gray t-shirt in his hand, he walks back over to you. "Alright, sweetheart. Let me take care of you," he says.

He places the shirt on the bed and reaches behind you to unzip your dress. You allow your head to fall against his chest, trying to soak in his warmth. His movements are slow and delicate, precise too, ensuring that he doesn't cause you any discomfort.

Once the zipper is down, he leaves his hands resting on your back to help you slide off the bed. Then he slips the thin straps down your arms, allowing the dress to fall to the floor, leaving you in just your underwear.

Crystalline, icy blue eyes rake over your body for a moment as he bends down to pick up the discarded fabric. It's not a sexual ogling, and you know that; he's simply admiring you the way he has always wanted to.

Suddenly feeling bashful, you avoid his gaze. You look at anything but him or your body, opting to focus on the street lights outside the big window. He catches your slight shyness immediately and quickly tries to soothe you.

"Hey," he coos with concern written on his face, one hand resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek, "You're perfect, angel. Are you feeling uncomfortable, do I need to step out for a minute?"

"N-no," you answer promptly and force yourself to meet his eyes. "'M jus' not used to being looked at like this."

Steve's gaze softens, clearly showing he understands the vulnerability you feel. He leans in to press a lingering kiss on your forehead. "If you let me, I'll help you get used to it- and I'll make sure you never feel unsafe or uncomfortable with me. How's that sound?"

The corners of your lips manage to quirk up into an appreciative smile. "Sounds nice, Stevie," you reply, your voice low but still audible.

Returning the same appreciative look, he picks up the t-shirt and says, "Thank you for letting me see you, and touch you, but let's get into something more comfortable for right now. You need some sleep."

You nod and raise your arms up in the air so he can slide the t-shirt onto you. It's then that you notice he'd given you the same shirt you wore the first night you ever spent the night at his place, and almost every time since then, threatening to make you cry.

The fabric is as soft against your skin as it always has been, and the scent of Steve's cologne envelops you, providing a sense of security. A warm feeling spreads through your chest at how he cares for you.

Steve takes a small step back to admire you in the shirt, and just to get another look at you. A fond smile plays on his lips as he looks you over once more. "Always has looked better on you than it does on me. Good to know it still does," he says, honesty obvious in his voice.

Again, your eyes lock with his. You search him for any sign of anything negative, coming up with nothing almost instantly. He searches you for any look or hint of discomfort, but he finds nothing other than sleepiness and adoration in your gaze.

Silence passes over the two of you like it had just mere minutes ago. The quiet environment feels even more natural and comforting than it did before, though.

He clears his throat, trying to prevent the eye contact from becoming awkward for you. "Uhm, let's get you into bed, alright?"

You step to the side so he can pull the comforter back, your hands playing with the bottom hem of the shirt. He turns to face you, and you take a wobbly step towards him, balancing yourself by placing your hands on his chest. His hand flies to your lower back to offer you more support, and you look up at him through the eyelashes of your sleepy eyes.

Slowly, tracing your way up and down his chest once, your eyes stare into him with something he'd never seen in you before. In fact, the look is so intense that it could make any man weak, he's sure of it. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly at your sudden touchiness.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, somehow oblivious to exactly what look it is that you're giving him.

"Mhmm," you hum, drawing out the 'hm,' with a voice laced with a soft and sleepy seduction from still being tipsy. "Y'know, 'm not thaaat tired."

"Oh? The way that you're hardly able to hold yourself up says otherwise, angel. We have all of tomorrow to talk, let me just help take care of you tonight."

A giggle slips from between your parted lips in response to his cluelessness. "S'cute when you're so sweet," you croon.

"Do you, uhm, do you need something before bed? Like an Advil maybe?"

Instead of a verbal response, you grab onto his jacket and give it a slight tug. You take a step forward, pushing him back gently to force him to sit on the bed. He looks up at you in confusion, but you don't let go of him as you slowly straddle him. With your weight being supported by your knees on the bed and his legs under you, you lean in, nuzzling your face into his neck.

"Angel, what're you-"

Your lips brush lightly under his jawline, leaving a trail of tender kisses as you gradually make your way down to under his chin.

Steve's breath hitches, and his free hand comes to rest on your waist with a delicate, but firm, grip. "O-oh," he murmurs in a sigh.

You nibble gently on his jaw. "Jus' need you," you mumble before pressing your lips to his.

He lets you kiss him, unable to resist the feeling because, well fuck, how could he?

The taste of your lips is all too familiar, and as his lips work against yours, his hands find your hips. His hold on you is secure, and it does nothing to ease the arousal building up in your stomach. You whine from the contact, and he tugs you closer, still careful to keep you steady on his lap.

His resolve weakens, and he becomes hyperaware of your vulnerable state again. So, he breaks the kiss, looking down and into your eyes.

"Y/n, I'm not sure if-" he starts, only to be interrupted by you dipping down to bite on his neck. You suck harshly on his neck as you reach down and palm him through his jeans.

A low groan emits from his chest, his voice husky when he speaks. "God, baby.”

Thoroughly enjoying the reaction he gives, you whimper against his neck. He can feel the corners of your lips turn up into a slight smile. His other hand is on the other side of your waist, gripping it firmly, as soon as you start grinding down onto his thigh. He loses himself in the moment for just a second before reminding himself of your inebriated state.

“F-Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Wait, wait- stop.”

You bite down once more, whining slightly before pulling away. The sensitive spot on his neck pulses, rushing with blood from the sucking and vibration. He tenses up with a mixture of both surprise and arousal at your forwardness. Then he lets both of his hands find your hips and settle on them, his hold tightening on you.

"D-did I do somethin' wrong? Did that not feel good?" you ask with a deep frown.

"No, no. That's not it, I promise; everything you've done feels amazing," Steve reassures you, quickly shutting down your negative thoughts.

Once again, he clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. "Angel, you're just… not in the best state right now. I won't take advantage of you, and I don't want you doing anything you might regret," he explains as he looks down to meet your gaze.

You're staring up at him with those big puppy dog eyes that you always use as an effective method to sway him. Tonight, though, is vastly different.

"C'mon, doll. Don't look at me like that. If you still want me in a few hours, when you're sober, that is, then I am all yours," he promises, trying to bargain with you.

You stick your lower lip out a little unintentionally, giving him the cutest pout he's ever seen. "Sober..." you repeat, looking away almost in shame as you add, "Promise you'll still want me then?"

Steve tilts your chin up with his finger and forces you to lock eyes with him. "I can promise you. I've never wanted anything more in my life than I want you. And that's never going to change."

Tantalizingly, he runs his thumb across your lower lip, a small smile playing on his lips. "But, I need you to be sure that this is what you want. I want you to remember every moment, not just bits and pieces of it, and know that everything we do is your choice," he says softly.

After taking a moment to process his words, you nod in understanding- noting the sincerity in his eyes. The room fills itself with an assortment of emotions, ranging everywhere from desire, uncertainty, and just a touch of venerable fragility.

Steve brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his expression one of soft neutrality. "Alright. Let's get you tucked in," he whispers, his voice a low murmur.

You let go of his jacket after he scoots back on the bed, bringing your knee from the other side of his leg and lying down. You curl yourself into a ball, and Steve's eyes never leave you as you do so. He takes a moment to appreciate the mere sight of you back in his bed, and a wave of warmth rushes through his chest. His earlier desires are still very much present, but so is the respect for the boundaries he set for your well-being.

He gets up briefly to pull the blankets over you before sitting down in the comfy chair in the corner of the room to take his shoes off. The chair you'd begged him to get as well to fill up the empty space in the room.

After sliding the boots under the chair, he makes his way to the dresser to change into some loose-fitting sweatpants. When he's about to put a shirt on, you grumble a 'no,' that catches his attention and makes him turn to face you.

"No?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow up questioningly.

"Nuh-uh," you respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles lightly. "Why not?"

"Warmer without it, not a bad sight either," you say softly, following it up with a yawn.

Steve smirks in appreciation of your usual playfulness. "If you insist," he concedes, deciding to forgo the shirt. He slips the shirt back into the drawer and walks back over to the bed.

He settles himself in beside you and lifts his arm up, allowing you to scoot into his side and rest your head on his chest. Happily, you hum, soaking up his warmth and focusing on his steady heartbeat. He then reaches down with his free hand to pull the blanket over himself.

"Uncomfortable?" you murmur, sleep laced in your voice.

"No, I'll be alright as long as you're comfortable."

A second passes by before you speak again. "Thank you."

"For what, angel?"

"For being so...you."

You feel Steve's chest rise and fall with a deep, contented sigh. His fingers trace slow circles on your back through your shirt. "Always," he whispers, his soft voice lulling you even closer to sleep.

The room stays wrapped in a soothing silence, the only sounds heard being the quiet breaths from both of you. As you lay there trying to sleep, you can't help but marvel at the man beside you. Everything about him is truly perfect, from his basic concern for your well-being to the way he has always taken care of you.

Your eyes begin to feel heavy, slowly shutting fully as you find yourself on the brink of slumber. Just before you succumb to sleep, you muster up the energy to mumble, "Steve?"

"Hmm?" he responds, his chest rumbling under your cheek.

"'M glad it's you."

"Wouldn't trade you for anything, sweetheart," he murmurs, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "And, for the record, I'm glad it's you too."

Steve continues to run his fingers over your back as you fall asleep. His fingers create a rhythmic pattern that mirrors the peaceful in and out of your breathing, only making your rest more soothing. He looks down at you and smiles to himself, reveling in the sheer joy of having you back, even if it's only for tonight.

Often the weight of his responsibilities feels too heavy to bear, but with you, there's a sense of solace that transcends the chaos of the outside world. Everything about you and your presence is a sanctuary. It's all a nice reminder that, after everything he does for everyone else, he's worthy of a little tranquility at the end of the day too.

Steve presses another gentle kiss into your hair before closing his eyes, savoring the sweet moment. "Goodnight, angel."

He hears your tired, softly grumbled response before he falls asleep. Though he tries not to let himself get too wrapped up in the moment, too used to your presence again, he does anyway. If there is anything he wants for the rest of his life, it's you next to him.

taglist!

@pigeonmama @rogersbarber @buckysprettybaby

if you'd like to be to my general taglist, feel free to ask or visit my taglist form to be tagged in more specific fics :)

[everythingisamazing]

I really feel like we, as jayvik shippers, need to talk about this shot more:

Like, I have seen it mentioned here and there, but I actually think it's one of the most glaringly obvious hints (its not even a hint tbh) that what is going on between Jayce and Viktor is undeniably framed as romantic. As it was stated by one of the animators: Every detail in animation is intentional. This shot was chosen and it was chosen for a reason.

First of: The timing. This happens after Viktor leaves Jayce. We all know the scene - it often gets (jokingly) called the breakup scene, leading up the "divorce era". So what do we typically see in movies or whatever media after the big breakup? What's the cliche? We see the protagonist, reminiscing and yearning for what has been lost. Often in a montage. Overlaid with some music. Well, it's exactly what we get with Jayce. And while we hear Heimerdingers song in the background going "Go and make some mistakes. You live and you learn", we see Jayce sitting in the rain looking at those two very much male looking figures looking like they are leaning in for a kiss. If that's not enough, I will add more: Jayces scenes are altering with Ekkos in the AU, where he developes his romantic relationship with Jinx. Arcane in general relies heavily on parallels to tell the parts of the story that are not directly shown on screen. And they will very often do it in this manner, were they cut back and forth between scenes, that are thematically relevant to eachother. I will let you decide for yourself, what the thematic relevance could be. Also, speaking of heartbreak - I actually could not remember this shot from watching the show, so I always believed it was edited when I saw it posted as an image, but it's real? Like, you can see the heart, broken in half by the ravine Jayce just climbed out of? The ravine in which he hallucinated Viktor in the fire? Yeah, okay. I am sure whichever highly skilled artist who drew this blatant symbolism (in red and pink, mind you), did it completely by accident. Or maybe they just thought that would be the best way to show their platonic brotherly relationship *shrugs*

Here is something else: As a few people pointed out before, the shot reminded them of the "Lovers of pompeii" - two human remains that were initially thought to be women, but then later discovered to be men. I say, if the people watching made that connection, there is no way in hell that the artists, who work on these shots for months, would not think of this comparison. Especially because the way the corpses are hardened but retain their shape in the AU, is very much like an Arcane-corrupted version of Pompeii. So yeah. I get kind of annoyed when I read comments complaining why people can't accept that Jayce and Viktor are just brothers (I'm talking about the "why does everything have to be sexual/gay" comments). I get annoyed, because if you have a quantum of media literacy, you will CLOCK all the tricks they pulled in the show, that are frequently used in media when portraying romantic relationships. And again, I am talking about a single shot here. As we all know, there is SO MUCH MORE.

[whoistartaglia]

love letters

how genshin men write you love letters

a/n: i’m alive!

neuvillette’s love letter is meticulously written and the closest thing to perfection found in this corporal realm. his calligraphy is neat as are his words; he spends little time with the flowery words and sweet nothings, and gets immediately to the point: confessing his love to you. he’s hinted at it, and you’ve reciprocated back, and neuvillette wanted to cement his confession with ink and paper. the only crinkle of imperfection that mares the otherwise unworldly beautiful letter is a touch of shakiness to the last sentence, the only question in the entire letter. asking you if you might feel the same.

childe’s love letter had to be written several times, and even the final version has some crossed out words, and arrows leading across the page, pointing to where he picked back up. the words themselves are sweet if not a little chaotically inclined (as is he; his nature showing right through the words on the parchment). it’s not so much as a confession than simply proclaiming his love for you, given to when you’re already in a relationship. (if you should ask why there are so many mistakes, he’ll tell you the truth: putting his love for you in mere words is a difficult feat.)

scaramouche’s love letter is a mess of words and a rage of emotions. it was never meant to be send to you, and he only showed you late in your relationship, when he felt comfortable enough to let you in. he started it as a way to express his emotions and their twisting and churning, whenever it came to you. scaramouche couldn’t understand them at first, and to an extent, he still is unable to fully quantify the emotions he feels towards you. but the words on the page, the half sentences and fragmented clauses, paint enough of a picture, and the love he shows you already is enough to fill in the gaps.

diluc’s love letter is impossible for him to write. it’s awful, it’s terrible, and every word is wrong—not that there are many words to begin with. diluc never thought himself to be an overthinker, but writing this love letter is proving that original notion wrong. every sentence he crafts in his mind sounds wrong when said aloud and he has worries they will look even worse on paper. so he leaves the few sentences he has alone, few soldiers on the battlefield, and decides to give you the letter anyways, hoping that you’ll still reciprocate what’s on the page, even if it isn’t much, even if he wants to tell you much more, but for some reason, cannot.

zhongli’s love letter is painfully gorgeous, even if the words sting and feel like a thorn to the heart. how he can turn a breakup letter into something so beautiful sounding is beyond you; you wish he would just get the point, that it’s not working out, that it’s over, without all the purple prose. reading it over and over again, you get the feeling that he was delaying telling you, even through writing. that he didn’t want to tell you it’s over using plain, cold words, but wanted to tell you with words that exude the last rays of sunshine and a breeze before dark. (it hurts all the same. more, even.)

alhaitham’s love letter was as unexpected for you recieve as it was for him to write, because you thought being with him was an impossibility, a maybe of the past that never came true. but then he handed it to you before he left, giving to you words he could never quite that time ago and still can’t quite bring himself to say now. but the letter, carefully crafted and laced with vulnerability and a tenderness only ever glimpsed from him once or twice, express what he cannot. what you do now with this newfound information is up to you: take a chance on something you thought died, or leave it alone, maybe without hope of a reprisal this time.

[jaylalolz]

when will you release “get him back” part 2?? 💓❤️‍🩹

❛ 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 ❜ p2 . . . nicholas chavez

SINGER!reader x EX!nicholas 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

PART ONE

SUMMARY, a jaw-dropping photo surfaced on social media, showing Y/N and Nicholas sharing a passionate kiss.

A/N, here you go💋💋

WARNINGS, none

♥︎ 5.1M 💬 15,467 ➤ 8478

y/nuser “Bad idea right?” is number 1 on the billboard 100!!! thank you guys so so much for streaming & thank you to the person who was my inspiration while writing bc this song wouldn’t be here without you❤️💜

view all comments

one day ago

tatemcrae, everyone say thank you nicholas for the song of the summer !!!

⤿ y/nuser, TATE SHUSHHH

user, yall are teasing us atp

user, i js know y/n is screaming at tate over the phone rn

user, girl WE need answers

user, you can’t just post this and expect us NOT to go crazy

user, ik nick blushing hard asf rn

user, tate is out for blood omg😂

user, NICK JUST REPOSTED

user, oh they’re SO back

user, GIRL don’t play with us, are you and nick getting back tg?

user, y/n and nick part two????

user, i’m not okay after reading the caption

ENEWS ARTICLE

Y/N AND NICHOLAS just broke the internet—and it’s not just because of her latest chart-topping hit.

The two pop sensations, who famously dated before calling it quits over a year ago, are once again the talk of the town. Just days after Y/N dropped her fiery new single, “Bad Idea Right?”, fans are speculating that the song might be more than just a story—it could be real-life drama unfolding before our eyes.

In the song, Y/N sings about how meeting up with an ex is a “bad idea,” but admits she’s going to do it anyway. The cheeky, rebellious track quickly captured fans’ attention with its catchy beat and vulnerable lyrics, but the real drama started when Y/N took to Instagram to thank the person who inspired her to write the song after it debuted at number one on the Billboard Hot 100.

Her cryptic caption read: “Thank you to the person who inspired me to write this song, because it wouldn’t be here without you.” Cue the speculation—fans immediately suspected that the song was about Nicholas, her ex.

But it didn’t stop there.

Just hours after her Instagram post, a jaw-dropping photo surfaced on social media, showing Y/N and Nicholas sharing a passionate kiss. The candid shot, which appears to have been taken during a night out, sent fans into an absolute meltdown, with many wondering if the pair are rekindling their romance after a year apart.

Twitter erupted with reactions, with one fan tweeting: “THEY’RE KISSING. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. Y/N AND NICHOLAS ARE BACK TOGETHER!!” Another user added: “She wrote a song about seeing her ex and now they’re making out?? ICONIC behavior.”

Neither Y/N nor Nicholas has commented on the photo or addressed the growing speculation, but fans are convinced that the kiss confirms what “Bad Idea Right?” hinted at—these two are giving love another shot.

Y/N and Nicholas first dated two years ago and were a fan-favorite couple, often seen together at industry events and collaborating on music. However, they shocked their followers when they announced their split last year, citing busy schedules and the pressures of fame as reasons for the breakup.

With “Bad Idea Right?” rocketing to the top of the charts and this steamy kiss photo making headlines, all eyes are on Y/N and Nicholas to see where this rekindled flame might lead. Is this the reunion their fans have been waiting for, or just a brief moment of nostalgia?

One thing’s for sure—Y/N and Nicholas are definitely back in the spotlight, and fans can’t get enough of the drama.

[novlr]

How do you write an unreliable narrator in a way that actually feels clever and not just confusing or annoying? I want readers to realize something’s off without hitting them over the head with it, and still keep them hooked enough to want to figure it out.

I’m an absolute sucker for an unreliable narrator. I find them completely frustrating and endlessly entertaining. When you read a book, and you just know that something doesn’t quite add up, and you start to question the nature of the reality of the story you’re reading? Mwah. Chef’s kiss.

Sometimes unreliable narrators are obvious. Other times there are just hints. It could be a detail that contradicts an earlier scene. A character who reacts oddly to what should be normal. And then, slowly, you realise you can’t trust the very person telling you the story. An unreliable narrator transforms readers from passive observers into active participants, forcing them to become detectives in their own reading experience.

What is an unreliable narrator?

An unreliable narrator is the voice of your story whose credibility has been compromised. They might be lying deliberately to conceal a truth, or completely unintentionally. What makes them fascinating is that they are telling their version of a truth or attempting to create one, even if that truth doesn’t match reality.

Unlike traditional narrators who serve as trusted guides through a story, unreliable narrators force readers to question everything they’re told. This means that the real story often lives in the gaps between what the narrator says and what the reader comes to understand is actually true.

It’s like a friend telling you their breakup story; their version of events might be completely honest from their perspective, but you know you’re only getting one side of the story. Unreliable narrators remind us that truth is often subjective, and that everyone is the hero of their own story.

Types of unreliable narrators

There is no definitive type of unreliable narrator, so the first step is to understand their role in the story and what you want their version of the truth to mean. Here are some common types:

The deliberate liar consciously misleads readers.

The self-deceiver believes their own false narrative.

The mentally compromised has their perception affected by illness, injury, or trauma.

The naïve observer lacks the experience to understand what they’re seeing.

The morally ambiguous has values that skew their interpretation of events.

Each of these types of unreliable narrator serves a different purpose and will change the tone of your narrative. For example, a deliberate liar is often used in thriller and mystery stories where readers must untangle truth from deception, while a naïve observer might be used for dramatic irony. A mentally compromised narrator might lead readers through a haunting exploration of perception, reality, and the self, whereas a self-deceiver might highlight wider social issues in their story world as their illusions gradually crumble.

So, how do you actually write an unreliable narrator?

Writing an unreliable narrator is a delicate balancing act. You need to give your readers enough truth to keep them invested, enough lies to make them question everything, and enough clues that they can piece together what’s really happening. The trick isn’t just about deceiving your reader, but about making that deception meaningful (and entertaining).

Let’s look at some of the more universal techniques:

Build credibility before breaking it

Start by establishing your narrator’s voice as trustworthy. Let readers settle into believing what they’re told. This makes the eventual revelation of unreliability more impactful. Show your narrator being accurate about small details or making reasonable observations before introducing elements that challenge their reliability.

Leave breadcrumbs

Plant subtle inconsistencies throughout your narrative. These should be small enough that readers might miss them on first reading, but obvious enough to create that satisfying “aha” moment when the truth is revealed,, like contradictions in the narrator’s version of events, other characters reacting to the narrator’s version of reality, or something that runs counter to the reality of the reader.

The power of perspective

Remember that unreliable narration is fundamentally about perspective. Your narrator isn’t necessarily lying; they’re telling their truth, even if it doesn’t align with objective reality. Show how their personal biases, experiences, and limitations colour their interpretation of events.

Build tension through uncertainty

Use your narrator’s unreliability to build tension. When readers begin to doubt the narrator, every new piece of information becomes suspect. This creates a self-perpetuating cycle of uncertainty that keeps readers engaged. But make sure you keep it balanced. Give readers enough reason to doubt your narrator without completely destroying their credibility too early.

The art of the reveal

The trickiest part of writing any unreliable narrator is deciding what the best time to reveal it is. And it does have to be considered carefully. Do you want a dramatic singular reveal, a gradual reveal with an “aha” moment, or to never explicitly confirm it, leaving readers to decide?

Remember: the goal isn’t simply to trick readers, but to explore deeper truths about perception, reality, and human nature. The best unreliable narrators make us question not just the story, but our own assumptions about truth and reliability. So make sure you consider that when you decide whether you need a reveal or not.

Keep your inconsistency consistent

Even unreliable narrators need to follow internal logic. Their unreliability should make sense within the context of their character and the situations they find themselves in. A narrator with memory issues should consistently show those issues. A deliberate liar should have clear motivations for their deception.

[maielasworld]

✦ Astrological Signs of Divorce ✦

A guide for the cosmic hearts who know that not all love stories are meant to last forever... and that’s okay

💔 1. The 7th House: The Mirror of Love & Breakups

When planets like Uranus, Pluto, Mars or Saturn (in hard aspect) fall in the 7th house, relationships can feel intense, karmic or unstable.

Uranus in the 7th house or in harsh aspect with the ruler of the 7th = sudden changes, freedom cravings, unexpected breakups.

Pluto in the 7th = deep, transformative love... or power struggles and endings that change you forever.

Saturn poorly aspected = coldness, emotional distance, or unions that feel like duty rather than passion.

💔 2. Venus in Trouble: When Love Hurts

Venus square or opposite Mars, Saturn, Uranus or Pluto = emotional disconnects, attraction to unstable partners, or sudden loss of affection.

Venus retrograde in the natal chart may suggest past-life love karma, emotional patterns hard to heal, or repeated disappointments.

Moon square Mars or Uranus = emotional outbursts, tension at home, or instability in intimate life.

💔 3. Mutable Signs and Fluid Love

A strong presence of mutable signs (Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Pisces) — especially in the 7th house — can suggest a more flexible, non-traditional view of commitment, which sometimes leads to separations.

💔4. The Ruler of the 7th in Conflict

If the planet that rules your 7th house is in hard aspect with Pluto, Uranus, or Mars, there may be intense karmic cycles, betrayals, or breakups.

Example: 7th house in Aquarius with Uranus square the Moon = a soul that craves connection but runs from emotional intensity.

💔5. Fixed Stars That Signal Heartbreak

Some fixed stars are tied to passion... but also pain:

Algol (26° Taurus): Associated with obsession, jealousy, drama — especially if conjunct Venus, Moon, or Descendant.

Antares (9° Sagittarius): Warrior star. Passionate love and sudden ends. Drama in relationships.

Alphecca (12° Scorpio): Beauty and allure with a hint of betrayal or scandal in love.

💔6. Cosmic Climates of Separation

Beyond your birth chart, breakups often happen under specific transits or progressions:

Uranus, Pluto or Saturn transiting your 7th house, Venus, or its ruler

Progressed Moon squaring Venus or ruler of the 7th

Mars transits activating love-related tension

[coralinnii]

Can I please request Cater, Ace, Deuce and Epel helping you after a rough break up (with someone else, not them)?

‧₊˚✧ Let me love you until you love yourself ‧₊˚✧

↳ Helping you after a rough breakup 

feat: Cater ❋ Ace ❋ Deuce ❋ Epel genre: hurt/comfort note: no pronouns were used with the reader, reader is implied to be Yuu!reader, depictions of toxic relationships, implications of violence,

Similar prompt: finding out you got brutally rejected

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

You see, Cater already had a suspicion that your boyfriend wasn’t the greatest pick. Years of listening to his older sisters talk about red flags to look out has honed his sixth sense about these kind of stuff.

But what was he supposed to tell you? He’s not going to just barge into your relationship and tell you that he feels some off vibes about your man. All he could do was be there for you when you needed an ear to hear you out. 

But he started to notice that you were less like yourself as the relationship went on. Your Magicam account wasn’t as active and soon even your close friends weren’t sure when was the last time you hung out with them. Cater could only catch you in class or with your glaring boyfriend clinging to you. 

Your relationship finally hit an ugly crescendo when your boyfriend publicly humiliated you and ended things in the open hallway. The reason Cater learned was because you wanted to go out with your friends again, even if he didn’t want to. 

Night Raven College has a knack for choosing students with rather vindictive personalities and no matter how subtle it is, Cater is no different. The sociable redhead may not always be the type to step up to lead or start something, but he is more than willing to teach a tactless underclassman a lesson on respect.

It doesn’t matter which dorm your ex is from since the extrovert Cater has friends and contacts of all the Housewardens, vice Housewardens and other notable students with authority. Call it his privilege for his chatty nature and years on this large campus.

With a charming set of words and implications from the smooth-talking Cater, most of them picked up the hint that a certain jerk needed some well-deserved punishment. For disgracing the dorm’s dignity, they all claimed. 

With the personified ick dealt with, all of Cater’s attention is on you. The versatile upperclassman can be anything you need in your time of healing. Cafe dates, unhinged frustration venting, screaming karaoke sessions with a chill support group (an exclusive privilege courtesy of the Pop Music Club), or a judgeless crying session as he held you together both metaphorically and literally. 

The screaming karaoke and dessert binging was fun and all, but the feeling of Cater’s warm hands as he gently rubbed your back as you hiccuped through your tears was a healing moment that left you raw but appreciative. 

Perhaps there was a little bit of guilt, or even something deeper within his heart for you, but as he wrapped his arms around you closer whilst you fell asleep in comfort, Cater thought to himself to protect you from something like this for as long as he can stay with you, for as long as he could do to stay with you.

“Hey now, no tears. Cay-Cay to the rescue!” 

Oh he hated your ex from day 1. No, it wasn’t because of his personal feelings for you, it was just literally everything about that jerk. At every chance, Ace would snidely comment and jeer the as*hole. The only reason he would stop was if you personally asked him to get along with him. 

“Tch. Fine, I guess” 

So Ace is a liar, but at least he’s a good actor. He’s willing to smile and laugh but he never lets the suspicious feeling fade. 

That suspicion quickly became rage when Grim told him that jerk of yours broke up with you over text. 

Turns out your (ex) boyfriend was dating you in hopes to catch the attention of a crush from his hometown, sending pictures in hopes to stir up some jealousy. Questions became screaming matches in your room and soon you were left a broken mess alone in your bedroom.

When Ace knocked on your door sometime later, you saw him in a familiar heart-shaped collar which wasn’t a surprising image. Without saying much, all Ace offered as a vague explanation was that he got into a fight with some jerk student.

As Ace was getting comfortable on your sofa, Cater later texted you, giving full details of what happened. Turns out the “jerk student” was your ex who was running his mouth oh how you were crazy and unbearable out in the courtyard, where Ace was passing by.

“Riddle is pretty pissed right now. Ace just went crazy on him and wouldn’t let up until we pulled him away. But still, be kind to him, k? He had good intentions.” 

Sitting together on the sofa, the two of you made quite an interesting image. Your eyes were red with wet tracks all over your face from crying while Ace had swollen patches of blue and black on his normally boyishly charming face. 

You broke the tension. “You didn’t need to do that, you know.” 

Ace brushed your words off. “What are you talking about? I did it for me. That dude always rubbed me the wrong way.” 

Ace is a liar, but strangely you didn’t mind it when he did it.

“Just so we’re clear, I didn’t do it for you. Alright? Good, so don’t go thinking too deep into it…”

A model student would support all of his peers, Deuce convinced himself. It was why he kept himself from just straight-up wrecking this punk that you found yourself dating. But Deuce trusts you. Maybe Deuce’s misjudging him since he can’t imagine you falling for someone beneath you, and he assumed that despite how he feels about your partner, this dude wouldn’t be stupid enough to not treat you good. 

But unbeknownst to Deuce, arguments were common in your relationship with your insecure partner. From complaining that you don’t spend time with him (um, because you were busy saving your friends from overblot?) to outright blaming you for emasculating him in his own relationship because of your popularity in school for your accomplishments. 

The breakup itself was honestly anti-climatic, and everyone could see it from a while away so it came to the surprise of no one. 

It was the aftermath of all of the arguments with your ex that truly hurt you. What was once a source of pride to you became reasons of your anxiety as you wondered if your ex held truth in his accusations. 

“You think you’re perfect ‘cause you’re doing a little better than me? Get over your high horse, you pretentious b-“

“Are you ok?” Deuce’s voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, bringing you back to the library where you were helping Deuce with a subject he was failing. 

You tried smiling but Deuce noticed the tenseness of your features and try asking once more, which led you to ultimately voicing your worries. 

“Maybe I was being too boastful, I shouldn’t just talk about me- Wait, Deuce?!” 

You managed to catch Deuce by the hem of his sleeve before flinching at the sight of the glaring rage in Deuce’s fiery eyes. 

“Where is that no-good coward! That punk’s getting what's coming to him!” 

It took some time (and getting kicked out from the library) for Deuce to finally settle his rage. Still, he was muttering some choice words to describe your ex which made you chuckle just a little. You wanted the breakup to be civil and simply pass as an unpleasant memory but you admit that seeing someone get mad for your sake was…nice. Almost heart-warming, really.

Suddenly, Deuce turned to face you. Back straight and his strong fist firmly pressed to his chest, Deuce looked to you with pure honesty as he promised to protect you from your worthless ex with everything he’s got. 

It took you quite some time to admit that when Deuce made that promise, you felt your heart skip a beat. 

“If anyone gives you grief for that, just ignore 'em. Let me handle them, I’m pretty strong.”

Romance honestly flies over Epel’s head. Afterall, the relationships he’s seen are his town’s couples who've been married for decades with kids all grown up, and the ones he’s seen in films and books. All he knew was, if you like someone and you’re dating them, you should be counting yer lucky stars and make sure you treat them right.

So, imagine the genuine look of surprise on his face when his dormmates whispered rumors that you were caught in an ugly argument with your boyfriend, with accusations that your man was actually cheating with someone supposedly prettier than you. 

Now, imagine his unbridled rage when Epel found that it was true. Your ex-boyfriend apparently held high expectations of himself and the partners he deemed to be worthy by his side. While he settled for you, he was looking around for another companion that “best suits his standards” as he said. 

It took a strict scolding and promise of harsh reprimanding from Vil to calm the young freshman down as his hometown habits rushed back to him. How he wanted to give that no-good son of a backyard mutt a mighty beating for what he did to you.

Instead, Vil suggested that Epel rather hit him where it would really hurt for unsavory fellows like him, through his pride. 

“If he thought he was better off with someone that “best suits his standards” as he put it, try proving to him he ended up with what he deserved. ” 

After deciphering what Vil meant, Epel used his noggin to hurt your ex where it really hurts. No longer was he the runt of a small village, but a man with various connections and skills to get a leg over his enemies. 

With his persistence, he convinced his Spelldrive captain, Leona to sit with you during lunch, and have the Vil Schoenheit spoil you with high-end gifts in public. With the attention of the most famous students showing you favor, everyone in NRC whispered and commented on who really won in the breakup. 

“He cheated while dating someone like that? What a mistake.” 

Behind his soft expression, Epel mentally smirked at the plummeting image of the man who prioritized fame over love. "You darn right a mistake it was, he thought.

In the entire time Epel treated you like the most important person on campus…in public at least.

In the privacy of your dormroom, you worked hard in holding in your laughter as Epel swore up a storm like a drunken sailor about the worthless ex of yours. Like Vil, it’ll be up to you to make sure he won’t go off picking a fight with your ex. 

Still, there was something undeniably true to Epel’s character to defend your honor, however he does it. 

“I ain’t too good at these sneaky schemes, but you gotta admit I got ‘im real good. Don’t cha think?”

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Screw everything else inject On1y into my damn veins

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Aug 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 5-6 of 12 - Extreme introvert dealing with a very hot, very drunk, very affectionate extrovert was an excellent experience all around. “I was drunk and talking out of my ass, but I wasn’t lying” maybe one of the world’s greatest confessions. How meta that he’s checking out the book of the story that he’s in. Carry on boys, very enjoyable, very Thai BL.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 12 fin - It’s cute. They are all very cute. I do like it when high school BL gives us a coming out sequence. I know it’s old-fashioned, but it’s a trope that goes with this particular setting really well, and I just like it when it’s done nicely. I’m not sure I needed it to totally dominate the final episode of the series. But it was fine.

I gotta say, Fourth is an absolutely outstanding actor. He really did knocked it out of the park in this last episode especially. 

In conclusion:

It was fine and it was charming, but it was also a little lackluster. Thailand managed to take one of Japan's softest cutest most bonkers BLs in recent memory and make it softer and cuter and... dull. They did this by watering it down. JBLs almost always have an edge to them, even the rom-coms, by dulling the edge, MLMU lost a great deal of the sparkle and tension as well. What an office setting managed to mostly maintain in the consummate hands of TayNew felt somewhat lackluster when handed off to the next generation and a high school setting. Cherry Magic was a lovely reinterpretation, Mix Up was an amateur's watercolor rendition of a colorful oil painting. Am I being harsh? G4 tried their best, and Fourth turned in some outrageously good acting in the latter half. But the show? It was fine. If you like water colors and you haven't seen (and loved) Kieta Hatsukoi. 8/10

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 8 fin - This was the first hint we got that the lead's relationship was anything more than sexual. And it was utilized for a breakup?! JJ and Wan's friendship is the best thing about this show. PWan selling JJ out to Methas was great. I was modestly delighted by the big fuck off ownership engagement ring. I admire a boy who likes to mark his territory with bling. I actually thought this was a decent final episode. If very rushed. I know, in general this ending was objectively weak, but I grinned the entire time, so I can’t really complain that much.

Final thoughts?

A story about a kid who infiltrates a cooking competition under false pretenses and then has to deal with the consequences when he falls in love with the head chef. The side couple is a poor little rich boy meets physical therapist (morality chain). The core friendships are excellent and the chemistry cannot be faulted across the (charcuterie) board. What this show lacks in substance it makes up for in health code violations. It was all chili all the time. Considering that the plot centered on betrayal but the romantic relationship never sweetened enough to balance that bitterness; one could be forgiven for throwing this one in the compost. But I got over all its weaknesses in flavor balancing for an ultimately satisfying meal, with a great dessert course. I've always loved spicy food. Plus the blooper reels were fantastic. 8/10

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 2 of 10 - I like the side couple a lot. It’s nice to see that dynamic developed (as it wasn't in the CBL version). Of course, Thailand leans into a secondary couple, but I also like the super popular jock + geeky boy who couldn’t care less. You know what? I’m actually really enjoying this. And yes, I AM biased because it's August. (Wait, that could be taken several different ways this month. But you know what I mean.) Anygay, this is a lot softer than the original, and so Hero is much more of a pining character and less harsh. But I'm still enjoying it. I like the stepbrothers trope (we don’t get it very much from Thailand), and I enjoy the beats and pulses of this particular story. We will see if it derails into inconsequence and lack of conflict the way My Love Mixup did.  

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 11 of 12 - I’m enjoying this show but it should’ve been just 10 eps. It’s feeling bloated at this juncture. That said, I loved our little GL kiss. Very pretty. I also really like the bit with Sam and Yo flirting with each other. Sam trying to get Yo to call him P'Sam was fucking brilliant. And then slipping in all of those nongs. Delightful. Linguistic negotiation, it's what's for dinner... along with Sam's d**k apparently. I frankly did not think they would take this couple that far. So, thank you very much everybody involved.

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 4 of 12 - I do enjoy watching Yim freak out and fall in love all over again. The reality is still better for me than the fantasy parts, but it’s all fun enough. The magic mushrooms bit was odd. In fact, there is definitely a core tenor of ODD going on with the show. Which I’m accustomed to from Japan but I’m not really sure about from Thailand. Thus I remain engaged but suspicious of this BL. 

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 6 of 12 - Yu wants to take his baby on a trip, gets thwarted by his younger brother. Ouch. I really do think it’s time for Ai to tell Yu what’s going on with his dreams! Drunken boyfriend bolster pillow is a fav trope of mine. As usual, I’m catching second lead syndrome. What? I liked the rich boy badminton player. And then he picked up a guitar. Oh well.

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 8 of 12 - No one cares about the hets. He was jelly? Cute. Also kinda an arse, by hey this is BL. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - announced in 2023, high school, stepbrothers, and is reputed to be high heat. Based on a novel Mou Mou + the Your Name Engraved Herein team.

ARE YOU READY? I'M GOING TO NOT SO QUIETLY LOSE MY DAMN MIND

This is old-school BL and it’s bloody fantastic. Tsundere seme to beat all tsundere (smartest + tallest + bestest at everything but people) meets socially-ept cutie smart-ass protag.

They living together by end of ep 1 and start kissing by end of ep 2.

There is an Unknown quality to this, and that I love. Also, and ironic to say this while Addicted Heroin Th is airing, but this REALLY reminds me of Addicted. It’s so fucking good. I am all in on this show. Shut up while this eats my life.

Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) eps 5-6 of 8 - Of course! The POV shift to the seme character at ep 5! How could I forget? Japan loves this beat! AND.... The running of the gays. And a use of a first name! So darling. Also some crazy great communication and conversation that is NOT a hallmark of Japan. Sahashi is so very possessive. I loved the switch that went on in his brain and the mania in his eyes when he thought someone else was interested in Natsume. I continue to love this.

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 10 of 12 - I’m never going to like Maya. Sorry. And the leads were separated for most of this episodes so it was largely disappointing. I did like the insight into the way T sees the world, and sees the alienation of a disability and what it's dong to his friend. It’s very empathic. He’s such an appealing character in his obtuse bull-headed way.

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 2 of 8 - It’s intriguing, and I'm happy to have anything from Korea on my dash. But, like Blue Boys, I’m not entirely sure if I like it or not.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 3-4 of 12 - This may be Taiwan but I’m still in the "no singing" camp. I’m getting a slightly better chemistry feel off the leads in this episode. I’m not sure if they’re keeping it stiff because the younger character is under age or if it’s just that the actors aren’t there yet? (In other words is this a directing choice or a performance issue?)

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 8 of 10 - I've finally come down firmly on the fact that it’s the uneven power distribution (in terms of interest and enthusiasm for the relationship) that I dislike about this show. Generally, I like a power dynamic differential, kinky and all that. But this particular dynamic, when it’s the weaker personality that’s so much more into the stronger one? I never like it, unless it engages a serious pivot at some point. (See My Personal Weatherman or Takara & Amagi.)

It's airing but...

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 3 of 10 - I was really loving this one but I can't find ep 3 anywhere so I guess I gotta wait it out. I hope I get to see it eventually.

4 Minutes (Sat Gaga) eps 1-6 of 8 - Gaga picked this one up so we can watch it there. If I have time, I'll get caught up and put it into rotation.

In case you missed it

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging.

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!! (Yeah this is gonna sit here until then).

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Coming Next Month:

The Time of Fever (Korea)

9/1 Live in Love (Thai)

9/3 Happy of the End (Japan)

9/6 Kidnap (Thai)

9/7 The Hidden Moon (Thai)

9/9 Jack & Joker (Thai)

9/14 Love Sick 2024 (Thai)

9/17 Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan)

More deets next week. It's late and I'm tired.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

It was pretty. I am very shallow.

Even more pretty. Petition to have Tenon with his shirt off and hair back in every subsequent Thai BL? Just because.

(SunsetXVibes)

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

[writtenbyadriana]

If eyes could touch, Pt.1

Pairing: Jensen Ackles × fem!reader

Summary: You weren’t looking for anything — not really. Just a night out, a few drinks, a little freedom after too much heartbreak. But then there were his eyes. Green. Sharp. Dangerous in all the ways you weren’t ready for but suddenly couldn’t resist.

This is part 1 of a three-part story. You can find part 2 and part 3 here!

Warnings: age gap, slow burn, alcohol (moderate consumption, not intoxicated), intense flirting, intimate dancing, explicit kissing, strong language (in a light way), sexual tension, build-up smut

This fic contains the use of y/n and pet names (e.g., baby, sweetheart)

Words: 5176

Note: English isn't my first language.

This is a work of fiction. Jensen Ackles does not belong to me, nor do any of the actions or words depicted in this story reflect real events, behaviors, or beliefs. Everything is purely imagined and created for entertainment purposes only.

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

I could barely believe I was actually here again. In a club. In heels. After all the drama, after the long, messy breakup with my ex — which felt more like a slow, painful tug-of-war than a clean split — tonight was the first night I felt like I could finally breathe again.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirrored wall behind the DJ booth, where the colorful lights scattered and danced, and for a second I barely recognized myself. My long brown hair fell in soft waves over my shoulders, and my outfit was the perfect mix of sexy and confident: ripped skinny jeans that hugged my legs, a tight black lace top that hinted at just enough skin, and black high heels that made me feel strong and undeniably hot.

Gold hoop earrings, a delicate bracelet, and a dainty necklace shimmered subtly under the lights. I looked like someone who wasn’t trying to forget — but to start over. And tonight, that’s exactly what I was going go do.

"y/n, you look like an absolute dream," Nick grinned, giving me an approving once-over. His eyes sparkled as he grabbed my hand and pulled me straight toward the dance floor.

I laughed, letting him lead me. The bass thrummed through my body, the lights flickered over sweaty faces and moving silhouettes, and for a moment, there was only music. Only rhythm. Only freedom. Nick was an amazing dancer — dramatic, playful, completely himself — and I felt light, alive, maybe even a little high on life.

After a few songs, we retreated to the bar, slightly breathless. My hair clung a little to the back of my neck, but I didn’t care. I felt good. No — better than good.

"Two Moscow Mules, please," Nick told the bartender, who gave us a quick nod. I leaned on the bar with one elbow, grinning at him.

"I forgot how good this feels."

"I know. You’re you again, baby." He winked. "And tonight, you’re going to turn so many heads, just wait."

I laughed, shaking my head. "I just wanna dance and drink. Men are not on the menu."

He was about to reply when his eyes suddenly shot past me, across the bar. They widened.

"Holy shit," he whispered, almost breathless.

I frowned. "What?"

He leaned in closer to my ear, his gaze still fixed straight ahead. "Don’t turn around. Not yet. But over there…fucking Jensen Ackles is at the bar. With Misha and Jared. They’re drinking. Oh my God."

Of course I turned around. Slowly, trying to look casual — but my heart was already racing.

And there he was.

He sat at the bar, one arm resting on the counter, a bottle of beer in his hand. The lighting cast soft shadows over the lines of his face — that strong jaw, that half-cocked smile, those ridiculously golden-green eyes. Misha said something that made Jensen burst out laughing, throwing his head back like the joke had hit him right in the chest.

My stomach flipped.

Nick leaned closer to my ear again. "I swear, he’s even hotter in real life. I mean...look at him. That beard. Those hands. That voice, oh my God. And he’s pure daddy energy. Has been my crush for years. Too bad he’s straight as hell."

I swallowed, then smirked.

And then — like he somehow sensed it — Jensen looked up. His eyes scanned the room, faces, lights…until they landed on me.

Our eyes met.

My stomach did a little somersault.

He looked at me — not just in passing, not some lazy glance. No. It was a look that took its time. That read something. His gaze slid from my face to my neck, paused for a heartbeat on my cleavage, then returned to lock with mine.

And then he raised an eyebrow — just a little. Barely there. But I felt it in every inch of my body.

I forced myself not to look away. I raised my glass instead, teasingly, a half-toast, half-challenge. The corner of his mouth twitched.

"y/n," Nick whispered next to me. "He just looked at you. Like — really looked."

"I know," I murmured, pulse hammering.

And suddenly I was warm again. But not from the dancing.

His gaze didn’t let me go. He was still standing by the bar, beer in hand, and yet it felt like his attention was solely focused on me. My heart pounded all the way down to my fingertips. This wasn’t just the typical "wow, he’s hot" kind of thing. It was more. Deeper. Tingling.

Nick chuckled beside me. "You’re totally short-circuiting."

I tore my eyes away from Jensen and shook my head slightly. "He’s just…"

"Total daddy energy, I know." Nick winked and sipped his drink.

I was just about to answer when I felt a shift in the air. The atmosphere changed. A shadow approached — tall, confident. I felt him before I saw him.

I turned slightly to the side.

Jensen Ackles stood right in front of me.

He was even more attractive up close. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Calm presence. He held a beer bottle loosely in his hand, and he smelled like something fresh, warm, a little woody. His gaze landed on me — focused, but not forceful.

"Hey," he said, his voice deep and unexpectedly soft. "I hope I’m not being too forward…but I had to come over and say hi."

His lips curved into a slight, crooked smile — dangerously charming.

I blinked. "Hi," I managed, silently cursing the slight catch in my voice. "No problem. Hello."

Nick stood frozen beside me, staring at Jensen like Jesus himself had just shown up. I nudged him gently.

"I'm Jensen," he said, glancing briefly at both of us before turning his attention fully back to me. "And you are?"

"y/n" I met his gaze like a silent challenge — calm on the outside, but inside I was reeling.

He nodded slightly. "y/n… pretty name."

Silence. But not the awkward kind. The kind that settles between two people who don’t need to fill it with noise. His eyes flicked briefly to my glass.

"Let me guess: Moscow Mule?" he asked.

I smiled. "Good guess."

"Classic. Refreshing. But with a kick." His voice had a playful tone – not overdone, just… warm. Easy.

Nick cleared his throat. "I… uh… I’ll get us some refills." And before I could stop him, he was gone — clearly more excited than I was.

I let out a soft laugh. "He’s…a fan."

"I can tell," Jensen said, unfazed. "So am I."

I looked at him. A little surprised. A little flattered. And very sure my heart was playing a whole new rhythm.

"I don’t usually get approached this fast," I said, half teasing, half honest.

"I don’t usually see someone who holds my attention like this," he replied, steady and calm.

He stepped just a little closer. Not enough to invade, just enough that I could feel his body heat.

His gaze lingered on my face, then drifted lower — to my collarbone, the delicate gold necklace resting there, then slowly back up to my eyes.

"You’ve got a presence that’s hard to ignore," he said quietly.

I swallowed. Not out of nervousness, but because my body was already reacting to him. There was a flutter in my stomach, a pull somewhere deeper. And still, he radiated that calm energy — like he wasn’t in a rush for anything.

He wasn’t pushy. Wasn’t sleazy. But the tension between us was real. Thick. Electric.

I leaned lightly against the bar. "So what brings Jensen Ackles to this club tonight?"

He raised a brow by the mention of his last name, and smirked. "Oh, so you know who I am?"

I returned the smile, lips tugging upward. "Of course. It would be a shame not to."

He chuckled quietly, almost like he hadn’t expected that. And there it was again — that warmth in his expression, laced with a spark of curiosity.

"A night off. Good music," he said simply. "And…maybe a connection you don’t plan for, but still want."

My breath caught for a second. It didn’t sound like a line. It sounded like truth, gently threading its way through his voice.

I glanced down, feeling his eyes still on me. When I looked back up, there was something different in his gaze — calmer, but piercing. He was present. Real.

And I knew: This wasn’t the end of the night. It was only the beginning.

I smiled nervously, unable to look away from his eyes. Those emerald depths held something magical, something that wouldn’t let go of me. "So, what do you usually do when you’re not hanging out in a club on a Saturday night?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

He grinned, letting his gaze slowly roam over me as if he wanted to take in every detail of my face. "Oh, you know...Movies, scripts, a bit of traveling at the moment. But tonight, I just wanted to switch off. And what about you, sweetheart? What brings you here?"

The "sweetheart" hit me like a little shock — unexpected, but not unwelcome. My heart skipped a beat. I swallowed hard to keep from stumbling over my words. "After my breakup, I just needed a distraction. A place where I could be myself. And someone to laugh with." I looked at him, waiting to see how he’d react.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and a mischievous smile played on his lips. "Laughter’s important. Especially when life’s just been kicking your ass." He raised his beer and toasted me. "I hope I can be your reason to laugh tonight."

I clinked my glass to his, feeling the warmth between us as if it were physical. "You’re definitely on the right track." My gaze dropped back to his eyes, now fixed on me in a way that was both demanding and tender. "You know what really fascinates me? That your eyes are already impressive on TV, but here…here they hold a whole different kind of power. They just pull me in."

Jensen laughed softly, a rough, seductive sound that sent shivers down my spine. "I could say the same back. Your eyes...or at least your look, tell stories I want to hear." His finger traced playfully over my wrist, a fleeting touch that electrified me. “Believe me, I could stand in front of you for hours.”

I met his gaze directly, feeling the air between us shift. The music in the background became the melody of our own silent dance — a game of looks, words, and desire growing louder by the second. "What do you think would happen if eyes could really touch?" I whispered, watching his smile deepen.

"Then we’d already be lost," he replied, his voice barely more than a rough promise. "But I think that’s exactly what’s going to happen tonight."

Our conversation continued like a door had been unlocked between us — easy, natural, real. The words flowed effortlessly, carried by laughter and meaningful glances that lingered just a little too long. This wasn't surface-level chatter. We talked about shows we secretly loved, the kind of music that gets you through heartbreak, the dumb things people do when they're in love. Jensen listened — really listened — with a focus that made everything else around us feel irrelevant.

And under his gaze — deep, steady, quietly intense — I felt...seen. Not just looked at. I felt like I mattered, like I wasn’t just some girl in a club. His eyes told me I was worth uncovering, layer by layer.

More than that, I felt beautiful. Confident. Like I could breathe a little deeper just because he was looking at me that way.

Nick, in the meantime, had subtly drifted away. He stood a few feet back at a high table, nursing his drink with a knowing smile — the kind only your best friend wears when he knows exactly what’s happening, and has no plans to interfere.

"You mentioned your ex earlier..." Jensen said, lifting his beer and glancing at me over the rim. "How does someone let a woman like you go?"

I laughed quietly, not with amusement, but with that sharp edge of pain still lingering. I toyed with the rim of my glass. "He cheated on me."

Jensen’s expression shifted instantly. The relaxed warmth disappeared, his jaw tightening. "Shit. Seriously?"

I nodded. "We were going to get married. Talked about kids. Picked out names, even. Then I came home early one night and found him in our bed with his coworker."

A silent "fuck" formed on his lips. He shook his head slowly. "Son of a bitch. I’ll never understand people like that. Especially when it’s someone like you he’s betraying. He must’ve been blind."

That heat inside me flared — not desire, not yet. Something warmer. Something that soothed a bruise I hadn’t realized still ached. I gave him a small, honest smile.

"What about you?" I asked softly. "You and Danneel... I thought you two were solid."

Jensen leaned back slightly against the bar, arms loose, posture casual — but there was a flicker of something bittersweet in his eyes. "We were together for a long time. Eighteen years total. Married for fifteen. But we just...grew in different directions." His voice was calm, reflective. "There was no drama. We both felt it happening. We’re still friends — mostly for the kids. They’re everything. But it was time to let go."

I nodded, casting my eyes downward briefly. "Part of me thinks that’s sad. Like, if you’ve made it that far, it should last forever." I looked up again, locking eyes with him. "But...if it hadn’t ended, you wouldn’t be sitting here. Talking to me."

His grin curled, crooked and a little dangerous, his eyes shining with a tease I felt in my chest. "And that would’ve been a damn shame."

My heart did a quiet flip.

I murmured, half to myself: "So now it’s like...starting over. From scratch."

He leaned in just slightly, the warmth in his voice grounding and direct. "You’re...how old? Thirty? Thirty-one? Baby, still so young. Trust me...if those guys out there knew what they were missing, they’d be lined up at your feet, praying for a chance."

I bit my lip, smiling at the way his words settled on me. The age difference was there — sixteen years between us — but instead of feeling strange, it felt solid. Safe. Like he’d already lived through the things I was still learning.

Then he held out his hand, slow and sure, eyes never leaving mine. "Come on. Dance with me."

I placed my hand in his, and the moment his fingers wrapped around mine, a spark shot up my arm. His touch was firm, certain — like he’d done this a thousand times before. And still, it felt like I was the only woman he wanted to do it with tonight.

He led me through the crowd, steady but unhurried, like he knew exactly where he was going. The music pulsed low and sensual through the floor, the kind of beat that made you want to move slow and close. Gold and violet lights flickered across the dancefloor, casting his face in a warm, magnetic glow.

Jensen turned toward me, letting go of my hand just long enough to slide it around my waist. His touch was light, almost cautious, as if asking. I gave him the smallest nod.

And then we were dancing.

At first, it was innocent. Casual. Our bodies moved in sync, with a thin line of space between us — like we were still pretending this was just a dance between strangers. But his eyes…God, his eyes didn’t play pretend.

They locked onto mine, then slipped to my lips, then down the curve of my neckline and back up again. Each glance landed heavier than the last, deliberate and burning.

I rested my hands lightly on his arms. His muscles flexed under the fabric of his shirt, solid and warm. He stood tall, strong — close. Too close to ignore. Not close enough to be satisfied.

"You move really well," he murmured, low enough that only I could hear him over the music.

"So do you," I teased, smiling. "Not exactly clumsy."

That wicked grin returned, lazy and confident. "Clumsy? Sweetheart, I can do a hell of a lot more than this."

His hand slid lower, resting against the small of my back. He pulled me closer — not all the way. Just enough to feel it. To let the heat of him wrap around me without fully touching. The restraint was maddening.

I caught the scent of his cologne — warm, masculine, edged in wood and smoke. It lingered in my head like a memory I didn’t have yet.

We kept moving, our bodies falling into rhythm like we’d done this before. My thigh brushed his. His hand tightened slightly. And then — finally — he pulled me all the way in. Chest to chest. No more guessing where he stood.

"You do know you're getting more dangerous with every step, right?" he whispered suddenly, his voice brushing the shell of my ear. His breath was hot against my skin.

I exhaled slowly, letting the words settle inside me like fire.

His gaze flared with something deep and dark. He leaned in, resting his forehead gently against mine. No kiss. Just contact.

Intimate. Close. But not too far. Not yet.

Our bodies moved to the rhythm of the music, pressed tightly together as if nothing and no one else existed but the two of us. My hips circled slowly, deliberately — every pulse of the beat made my ass glide directly against his manhood.

And I felt him. Hard. Full. Undeniably turned on.

A deep, guttural sound escaped him — not a word, just a rough, restrained groan that echoed straight into the pit of my stomach. My breath caught for a moment, heat shot to my face, and my heart began pounding twice as fast.

Then his hand moved upward — gliding, certain — and brushed my hair from my right shoulder over to the left. The soft strands tickled my skin as they slipped over my collarbone. I was wearing a tight black lace top with delicate straps, leaving my shoulders and neck completely bare.

His fingertips grazed my skin casually, but every motion felt electrified. I could feel how his touch sparked goosebumps like invisible fire across my entire body.

He leaned in even closer, his mouth just inches from my ear. His breath was hot, almost whispering.

"You have no idea..." he murmured, his voice low and rough, "...what you're doing to me."

Before I could answer, I felt his lips at my earlobe, right next to my golden earring. He gently caught the soft skin between his teeth, biting down — not hard, but firm. Possessive. Demanding.

A tremble ran down my spine. I inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering closed as my fingers dug into his thighs. My body tensed, and yet there was this burning softness deep inside me, aching for more.

His hand now slid from my neck over my right shoulder and down my upper arm — slow, searching. Every inch of his touch burned into my skin. Waves of goosebumps followed, like my entire body was tuning itself to him.

And then I felt him again — this time, with the tip of his nose. He traced it along the sensitive skin of my neck, ever so lightly, ever so slowly.

My breath grew shallow as his nose moved down — from the base of my jawline to the side of my neck and finally to my shoulder.

A soft kiss followed, warm and tender, placed right where my skin was most sensitive.

I visibly trembled.

His mouth didn’t pull away — instead, it moved upward, placing wet, hungry kisses along the curve of my neck. Each one felt like a promise.

I let my head sink back against his shoulder and closed my eyes.

He enveloped me completely — with his body, his breath, his presence.

I felt small in his arms, yet at the same time so secure, so wanted, so... beautiful.

And at the same time, the fire inside me flickered higher and higher.

Unstoppable. Blazing.Hot.

I couldn’t hold back anymore.

My body moved on its own, my mind already clouded by heat and desire. I pressed myself more firmly against him, my hips once again seeking that contact, that friction that had already driven me insane.

I wanted to feel more of him. All of him.

Jensen’s reaction was immediate. His grip on my waist tightened, his fingers dug deep into the fabric of my jeans like he wanted to hold me there, pin me to that exact spot.

Then he leaned in, his breath hot against my ear, his voice hoarse, threatening, raw with restrained desire: "If you don’t stop now, baby… I’m going to completely lose control."

A shiver shot through my body. My heart pounded wildly against my ribs, my throat went dry. And even before I could think about it, my lips answered — without hesitation, without regret, without doubt: "I want you."

Silence.

His grip froze. One deep breath from him that felt like it pressed through my entire spine. Then — a growl. Deep. Dark. Right at my ear, vibrating against my skin. "Say that again."

There was nothing playful left in his voice. It was a demand. A command. A final thread his control was hanging by.

I turned in his arms — slowly, trembling with tension — my eyes searching his.

My pulse roared in my ears, my hands found his T-shirt, clawed into it, pulled him down to me, closer, so close our noses almost touched. I looked straight into his eyes. And whispered:"I. Want. You."

Something inside him shifted. A fire flared in his eyes — wild and dangerous. His gaze burned into me, made me tremble, made my knees weak. He let his eyes wander across my face — slowly, as if in slow motion — from my eyes, over my nose, my cheeks, down to my lips.

He paused there. I held my breath. Then he kissed me. And everything exploded.

His lips crashed onto mine — hot, demanding, hungry. No careful probing, no hesitation — it was a kiss like a firestorm. I opened myself to him instantly, let my hands slide into his neck, pulled him even closer, as if that were still possible.

Our mouths melted into one, our bodies burned.

I felt the full press of his body against mine, how his tongue demanded entry, how his fingers once again dug into my hips.

I was lost. And I wanted to be.

Jensen’s arms pulled me even closer to him, as if we weren’t already pressed against each other. As if there was still a single millimeter of space between our bodies that he needed to erase.

His hands moved up and down my back — slowly, deliberately, warmly — and under the thin fabric of my lace top, I felt every movement, every line he traced.

I drew in a sharp breath as his fingers ran along my spine, from the upper back all the way down to the small of it. He took his time, as if he wanted to memorize the entire shape of my back.

Then his hands paused at my hips — for just a moment — before confidently gliding lower.

His large, warm palms landed on my ass. And I gasped softly against his lips.

Without hesitation, he pulled me even tighter against him, so I could feel his hard arousal pressed into me. A deep, suppressed moan vibrated in his chest as he grabbed my ass, squeezing me firmly, pulling me into him — possessively, demanding, full of hunger.

A jolt of electricity shot through my whole body. My thoughts spun like a storm. I couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t control anything — except what I felt. And that was more than I’d ever thought possible.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulled him down to me even more, as if that were even possible, and our lips met again — hotter, more desperate, more reckless.

The kiss was wild, wet, demanding. Our tongues met in a dance that matched the intensity of our bodies.

Then — suddenly — he broke away from me, breathing heavily. His eyes searched my face, his chest rising and falling quickly. I could almost see reason knocking at the edge of his mind again.

His voice was deep and rough when he said softly: "Fuck… we’re standing in the middle of the dance floor."

I bit my lip, my heart pounding in my chest.

The music around us felt like a distant haze — everything except us had faded into the background.

But he was right — we were in the middle of the club, surrounded by people, and we could barely keep our hands off each other.

He leaned his forehead against mine, his voice hot, barely a whisper: "Should we… go to your place?"

One moment. One breath. One look into his eyes. I nodded. "Yes. Please."

As soon as the last word had slipped from my lips, Jensen reacted — immediately, without a moment of hesitation.

His fingers closed around mine — firm, warm, purposeful — and he pulled me through the crowd, which still danced wildly to the music, as if nothing outside this moment mattered.

I felt his body heat spreading across my skin, even through the swarm of people, light, and noise. His hand held mine like it already belonged to him. It wasn’t a timid lead — it was a clear pull. He knew exactly what he wanted. And I was more than willing to follow.

The scent of his cologne surrounding me completely. His thumb circling into my palm like a silent promise of everything still to come.

At the edge of the dance floor, he glanced toward the bar. And I saw it too.

Misha and Jared stood there, a little off to the side, half in shadow. Jensen gave them just a quick nod — a short, wordless signal. As we passed, I caught Misha’s gaze. He grinned broadly, raised his brows, and subtly gave Jensen a thumbs-up. Jared shook his head slightly, but he was grinning too — just like friends do when they know something is starting that could change everything.

We were only a few steps from the exit, my heart racing, the cool night air already brushing against me through the open doors...when suddenly it hit me like a jolt through my body.

"Shit! Nick!"

I came to an abrupt halt. Jensen noticed it immediately, turned to face me, confusion in his eyes. His brows furrowed slightly, his hand still tightly holding mine.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice rough from whispering and kissing.

"I forgot Nick. My best friend. He has my bag. I can’t just…" I shook my head, completely thrown off. Guilt mixed with my desire, briefly making it waver. "I need to let him know. Wait here for me, please."

Jensen looked at me for a moment. Then his expression softened. Understanding flickered in his eyes, but something else too: the hunger was still there, only barely tamed.

"Be quick, baby," he murmured. And before I could respond, he leaned in and kissed me.

Gentle. Slow. As if he wanted to taste me one more time. His lips moved against mine — tender and yet so demanding that my knees nearly buckled.

I felt his hand on my back, drawing me closer, my lips trembling slightly beneath his. I couldn’t help it — I kissed him back, forgot everything for a second, forgot where I was, who I was, that Nick even existed.

Just Jensen. Just his lips. Just this feeling of completely losing myself.

He was the one who finally pulled away. His forehead stayed resting against mine. I inhaled deeply, forced myself to open my eyes.

"I’ll be right back," I whispered. I forced myself to take a step back, to pull away from him. Barely managing it.

Then I turned and disappeared back into the pulsing darkness of the club —leaving my heart with him, right there, where he was waiting.

To be continued...

[fear-is-truth]

Hello pretty one !!

Can I request the Evans reaction to y/n asking for divorce/ break up?!

Like they have been in a shaky times in their relationship, and one night the reader asks for divorce when they come to the bedroom?

Thanks for doing your best.

Have a nice day.

(pls include James 💋)

𝜗ϱ ┆ BREAKING UP WITH THEM .ᐟ

── THE EVANs ‧ h e a d c a n o n s ೃ࿐

ft. tate ‧ kit ‧ jimmy ‧ james ‧ kai

⟣ TAGS ‧ SFW | f! reader | angst

a/n: james’ is the most detailed since you specifically asked. no kyle because i’d never break up with him

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

Tate would refuse to accept that you’re breaking up with him. the moment you say the words, his face would fall like a lead balloon, but then he’d quickly mask it with an incredulous laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “you don’t mean that. we love each other,”

he wouldn’t let the breakup go easily, instantly pleading for you to reconsider. Tate would be persistent, even frantic. “i’ll do better, i’ll change,” he’d promise, grabbing your hand with shaking fingers, voice cracking. he’d pull out everything he could think of to get you to stay — recounting memories of when things were good between you, making promises for the future. you’d see the fear in his eyes as he feels you slipping away, and he definitely cry. “don’t you remember how happy we were?”

Tate has major abandonment issues, and feels kind of entitled to you. he’d accuse you of seeing someone else, trying to find any explanation for why you’re leaving. Tate’s mood would fluctuate rapidly, from angry outbursts to tearful apologies.

would resort to manipulation if he feels like he’s losing you.. “you said you’d never leave me. you’re all i have.” he’d use it to pull at your heartstrings, knowing you’ve always been the one person who understood him.

Tate would never stop loving you, never stop trying to be a part of your life, even if it’s just by being in the same space. he’d become fixated on the idea that maybe you just need time to come around. his visits would be quieter, less dramatic, but no less intense. he’d just sit at the edge of your bed, not speaking, just watching.

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

Kit would be stunned by the breakup, initially not even processing what you’re saying. his first reaction would be utter disbelief, brows furrowing as he tries to understand where things went wrong. “wait, what do you mean? we can fix this,” he’d say, voice shaky but calm at first, not fully grasping the finality of the situation.

he has kind of a hero complex, so he’d be the first to blame himself for the relationship ending. he’d try to figure out what he did wrong, even if the breakup wasn’t entirely his fault. “i should have done more,” he’d mutter, eyes downcast, his hands nervously running through his hair. Kit would feel immense guilt, thinking he didn’t do enough to keep the relationship alive. he’d ask if there’s anything he could do to make it right, wanting desperately to fix the situation.

he isn’t the type to beg or become overly dramatic, but there’d be a hint of desperation in his tone when he asks you to reconsider. “please, don’t go. we’ve been through so much together. i love you.” his voice would crack slightly as he says this. Kit wouldn’t pressure you, but you’d feel how much this is breaking him.

Kit is super empathetic, so once the shock wears off, he’d want to understand why you’re breaking up with him. he’d ask you what went wrong, genuinely listening to your reasons, even though it’s tearing him apart inside. he wouldn’t even be angry, just deeply hurt. “i don’t get it… i thought we were happy,” he’d say softly, his voice full of sadness. even though it’s painful, he’d want to know if there’s anything he could do differently. ultimately, Kit would try to respect your decision, even if it breaks him.

Kit has already lost so much — from Alma to Grace, he’s familiar with the pain of being separated from the people he loves. losing you would reopen old wounds, triggering feelings of abandonment that he’s never fully healed from. he’d appear distant in the days following the breakup, finding it hard to accept that someone else he deeply cared for is gone from his life.

family is everything to Kit, and after the breakup, he’d pour himself into being a father. you’d see how much time he spends with Julia and Thomas, using them as a way to cope with the loss. he’d take them on walks, read to them, and try to create a semblance of normalcy. Kit would never let his pain affect his kids.

he wouldn’t disappear from your life completely, especially if you were close. he’d check in on you occasionally, not to win you back, but just to see how you’re doing. Kit cares deeply, and even after the breakup, he’d still want to make sure you’re okay. you’d receive a call from him now and then, something simple like, “hope you’re doing well,” or “i’m here if you ever need anything.”

in all seriousness, why would one even want to break up with Kit Walker ?!!

⟢ 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆.

Jimmy would immediately spiral into a drinking binge. he’d be back at the bar, downing drink after drink, drowning the pain and self-loathing in whiskey bottles. he’d stumble back to the caravan late at night, lost in a haze of regret and sadness.

after a few drinks, he’d become incredibly emotional and prone to outbursts. start ranting to his fellow freak show performers, saying things like, “she was the only girl i ever loved.” he’d wear his heart on his sleeve, lashing out at anyone who tried to comfort him.

he’d be plagued with guilt, blaming himself entirely for the breakup. thinking back to every argument, every moment he could have done better, and it would eat him alive. “maybe if i wasn’t such a freak… maybe if i could have given her more.” he’d dwell on his physical differences. Jimmy truly believes that he’s the reason for the breakup—that you deserve someone better.

after the breakup, Jimmy would avoid performing at the freak show for a while. the stage, once a place where he felt pride in who he was, would now feel like a spotlight shining on his failures. he’d skip performances, spending his time holed up in his caravan or wandering the outskirts of town, drunk and aimless. “what’s the point anymore?” he’d say, staring at his gloves or the bottles in front of him.

he would eventually seek comfort from his mother. he’d go to Ethel, disheveled and reeking of alcohol, collapsing into her arms like a lost child. “i messed it all up, ma,” he’d say, tears spilling down his face as she strokes his hair, trying to console him. she’d try to get him to see that it wasn’t all his fault (and she’d not-so-secretly resent you), but Jimmy would struggle to believe it.

if you ever had to interact with Jimmy after the breakup, especially if you were still part of the freak show, he’d still overprotective of you like when you were together. even though you’d broken up, he’d still feel the need to keep an eye on you. if someone else tried to get close to you, Jimmy would bristle with jealousy. he wouldn’t confront you directly, but there’d be a quiet possessiveness in his demeanor. “i’m just looking out for her,” he’d tell himself, still struggling to accept that he doesn’t have you anymore.

⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

at first, James wouldn’t truly believe you were serious. in his mind, love—especially his love—is eternal. he’d be utterly bewildered by the concept that you’d want to leave him. “darling, you must be jesting,” he’d say with a tight smile, trying to brush it off as a fleeting moment of dissatisfaction.

he’d offer to “discuss” your concerns over a drink, trying to charm you back into his arms with smooth words and promises. “surely, my love, this is just a passing phase,” he’d say in that honeyed voice, suggesting you take some time apart to reconsider. he’d always be trying to hold the power, coaxing you to rethink your decision.

James is a master manipulator, and he’d play every card to try to win you back. he’d remind you of the luxury and life he’s given you, the way he’s treated you like royalty. “who else could give you such a life, my sweet? no one can love you as i do,” he’d declare confidently, attempting to convince you that leaving him is a mistake.

though James is normally composed, beneath his refined exterior is a deep well of rage. you’d see the calm facade crack ever so slightly, especially if he feels he’s truly losing control. his eyes would harden, jaw clenching.

if charm and manipulation both fail, James would escalate to grand romantic gestures to try to win you back. expect lavish gifts—clothes, jewellery, flowers, extravagant dinners from him.

when James realises you are serious about leaving him, he wouldn’t hesitate to drop his dignified, grandiose demeanor and fall to his knees. like with Elizabeth, he’d be utterly desperate, pleading with you to stay. “my love, you must reconsider. you cannot leave me,” he’d beg like the pathetic simp that he is.

he would quickly spiral into anger and violence, not just at you but at the entire hotel. his fury would be unleashed on the guests of the Cortez—he’d go on a killing spree, brutally murdering any unfortunate souls he comes across. his anger wouldn’t be directed at you but rather at his own inability to control the situation. his murder spree would serve as an outlet for his pain and frustration.

on the other hand, James might swing to the opposite extreme, abstaining from killing altogether. you’re his greatest passion, and if he loses you, nothing would hold meaning anymore—not even murder, which is his hobby. he’d shut himself in his office, pacing, sipping whiskey, and brooding. his hands would shake with the need to kill, but his grief would overpower it. “i cannot do this without her,” he’d murmur to himself, staring blankly into the fireplace.

as a last resort, James would do something extreme to keep you, especially if he feels like there’s no other way. in his mind, death isn’t the end—it’s just another stage of your relationship. he’d definitely try to trap you in the cortez with him forever, orchestrating events to lead to your death so you can stay by his side eternally. “if i cannot have you in life, then we shall be together in death,” he’d say with a somewhat sinister smile.

no matter how much time passes, James would never stop loving you—or at least his version of love. to him, you are his soulmate, and he would remain in the belief that you’ll return to him eventually. he’d likely continue sending you gifts and dinner invitations, convinced that it’s only a matter of time before you realise he’s the only one for you. his devotion to you is eternal, obsessive, and inescapable.

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

Kai would immediately reject the idea of a breakup. he’d try to convince you that it’s just a rough patch, something that can be fixed if you were both willing to “work on it.” he’d speak with a calm and patronising tone, acting like he’s the voice of reason. “this is all in your head. you’re overreacting as usual,”

once he realises you’re serious, Kai would turn to guilt-tripping, framing the breakup as an act of betrayal. “after everything i’ve done for you? after all we’ve built together?” as he paints himself as the victim. Kai has a knack for making you feel responsible for his emotions, and he’d use this to make you second-guess your decision. he’d make it seem like you’re abandoning him at a critical moment, especially when he’s in the middle of his movement.

if manipulation doesn’t work (smart you!), Kai would escalate to more aggressive tactics. he’d get angry—like really angry. his voice would rise, and start pacing or slamming objects around to intimidate you. “you think you can just walk away from me?!” his eyes would burn with fury, and there’s a good chance he’d lash out verbally, calling you weak, ungrateful, or a stupid bitch for thinking you can survive without him. he wouldn’t hurt you physically (yet)

Kai has a god complex, and losing control of you would feel like a personal attack on his sense of superiority. he’d go on a long, impassioned rant about how you’re making the biggest mistake of your life, how he’s the only one who can truly understand and protect you. “you’ll come crawling back when the world chews you up and spits you out,” he’d sneer. perhaps weave in a few conspiracy theories or grand ideas about the future, making it seem like you’re betraying some higher cause by leaving him.

even after you break up with him, Kai wouldn’t let you out of his orbit so easily. he’d watch you closely, making sure you don’t stray too far from his influence. he’d manipulate your friends and find ways to keep tabs on you, using people or technology to always know where you are.

despite his anger, Kai would have moments where he switches to a softer, vulnerable approach (think about the time he convinced winter to agree to the weird religious nutjob inc*st threesome). he knows how to manipulate through emotion, and he’d use this to try and pull you back in. he’d sit down and speak in a low, defeated tone, saying things like, “you were the only person who ever saw the real me, who truly knows me.” 🥺

Kai is obsessed with loyalty, and your breakup would feel like the ultimate betrayal to him. he’d test your commitment by putting you in difficult situations—manipulating circumstances to see if you’ll come back to him. orchestrating moments where you feel vulnerable, then swoop in as the only person you can rely on.

lowkey understandable why you’d wanna break up with him. he’s a toxic boi (still hot)

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