#i thought of it while i was listening to one of his breakup songs

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: what do you do when your boyfriend cheats? you go to his house and look for revenge, and you get it by fucking his dad! NSFW

contents: fem!reader. age gap, blowjob, praise, degradation, use of slut, slight dumbification, dirty talk, and possibly more. 2.6K words.

you should've known that dating a rich boy came with more than just the money—it came with a shitty boyfriend too. 

as you walk to his house, rain falling in your eyes, you curse every time he had you do his homework, his bills, even his fucking laundry. that's what you get for dating the spoiled heir to the massive gojo fortune.

you step onto the gojo estate's porch, wondering what possessed you to come all the way here in the middle of the night without an umbrella. thank god you still had the key your ex had given you, since he was too stupid to remember to take it back after he dumped you.

hands shaking from the cold, you slip the key into the lock and turn, a small smile dancing across your lips when it opens as easily as your ex's legs. he was probably out fucking another girl right now, if the pictures on his instagram story were any hint of his whereabouts.

you push the door open with your shoulder and dry your feet on the doormat. his parents are never home, and it's late enough for the staff to have all gone back to their quarters. besides, even if one or two were still here, they probably didn't know you weren't their spoiled brat's girlfriend anymore.

humming the post-breakup revenge song you'd been listening to for the past hour, you tie up your hair and look around. the only reason you walked all the way here in the middle of a dark, stormy night was for revenge, and you weren't leaving without it.

on the way to your ex's room, you stop in one of the bathrooms to dry off. rainwater slides off your body as you wring out your hair in the sink, water dripping down your wrist as you do so.

you walk the familiar path to your ex's room, rolling your eyes when you see a bra on the floor that definitely isn't yours. funnily enough, you aren't surprised. there's no hurt, no sadness, just disgust. your suspicions were right—he was fucking other girls while the two of you dated. 

a sigh slips through your lips as you look around his room. it's messy, even with the help from the gojo estate's numerous staff. they say bigger rooms naturally look cleaner, and yet your ex's room still manages to mirror his mind—filthy.

you're so immersed in the thousand ideas you have to ruin your ex's life that when a deep, sleep-ridden voice asks you what the fuck you're doing in his house, you nearly jump out of your skin.

you spin around, words caught in your throat when you come face-to-face with satoru gojo, your ex-boyfriend's dad and the infamous head of the gojo family.

it's more than shameful that the first thought you have is that shit, he's hot. you've met before, but it was only in passing. satoru's never around, and the extent of your relationship was a brief nod as he passed you in one of the many passageways in the gojo estate. in fact, you aren't entirely sure if he even knows who you are.

satoru gojo's well-known in japan—not only is he the reason the gojo family has its reputation, but he's made quite a name for himself by being the most affluent and handsome of them all. 

you've heard stories about him back in his prime. most sound too far-fetched to be true, but the photos of him in his twenties that resurface from time-to-time make good material for your late-night fantasies. 

and satoru's even more intimidating in person. he's easily over six feet tall with well-defined muscles, and he's the definition of a dilf. he's probably twice your age, but the glint in his eyes and casual arrogance in his stance makes him all the more attractive.

it's a shame his son is such a dickhead.

"are you one of my son's whores?" satoru asks dryly, eying the bra on the floor. you scowl and kick it away, a soft huff slipping through your lips.

"no, i'm— wait, he never told you?" you cut yourself off with the question, a hint of incredulous disbelief in your tone. 

satoru shrugs, reaching up to ruffle his hair. his shirt slides up just enough to expose his abs, which are really fucking hot by any standards. "if you're asking about my son, he thankfully leaves me out of his sex life," he says amusedly. "so, who are you? and what the hell are you doing in my house this late?"

"i—" well, you couldn't just say you were here to ruin his son's life. "uh, i'm his... girlfriend."

satoru barks out a laugh, looking down at you through his long, white eyelashes. "really? you sure you're dating my son?"

you narrow your eyes and nod. satoru shakes his head, slipping one of his hands in his pocket and gesturing to the bra on the floor with the other. "either you aren't his girlfriend or you just found out he's cheating. which is it?"

well, you tried. "both." satoru raises his eyebrows at that and takes a seat on the chair across from his son's bed, exhaling as he does so. 

"so, sweetheart, what's the story?" he asks, a bored expression on his face. he leans back and spreads his legs enough for you to wonder what it'd be like to be in between them. 

not sensing that you really have a choice, you sit on the corner of his son's bed and start explaining. at first, you sugarcoat his son's actions, not wanting to sound like a whiny brat, but at one point he interjects with a sigh.

"i know my son," he says dryly, brushing his floppy white hair out of his eyes. "and i also know a liar when i see one."

"s' that so?" you mutter under your breath, ignoring the way satoru's eyes narrow at your side comment. from then on, you list every detail of just how shitty your ex was to you. you tell satoru how his son made you fold his clothes, how he dragged you to parties even when you swore you had homework, how he'd make you fu—

you stop there, not wanting to divulge every detail of your sex life. sure, your ex forced you to fuck him every night in every way he knew existed from watching porn, but that wasn't for his dad to know.

satoru, who's been listening intently for the last five minutes, studies your irritated expression thoughtfully. rather than comment on the way you suddenly stopped ranting, he asks, "so you're here for revenge?"

you nod, crossing your legs. satoru eyes you for another second before placing his hands on his knees and standing up with a soft grunt. "do whatever you want, but i want you out of my house in fifteen minutes. and whatever you do stays in this room. no fire."

satoru looks down at you and raises an eyebrow. "is that clear?"

it would be easier to agree if satoru wasn't looking down at you with an expression like that on his face. it's somewhere between mild irritation and disgust—whether it's directed at you or his son, you're not sure, but he probably has better things to do than listen to some girl's breakup story. so you nod, and satoru starts to leave.

just before he steps out the door, you think of a really fucking insane idea—one that would absolutely shatter your ex. and for some reason, you say it out loud.

"you should fuck me."

oh my god.

satoru turns around slowly, hand clenched around his phone. "the fuck?"

you swallow, eyes wide and a stupid grin plastered on your face. "shit, i—" you were ready to apologize for just about every word you've ever said, but satoru holds up his hand before you can start, cutting you off.

he scoffs, blue eyes glimmering with either amusement or annoyance. "you really are a piece of work, aren't ya?" satoru narrows his eyes, surveying you critically. his gaze settles on the way your shaky hands, and you hide them behind your back self consciously.

"you want me to fuck you on my son's bed?" he says dryly, stifling a laugh. when you force yourself to nod, he grins. "not bad, sweetheart. not bad at all."

"i-is that a yes?" you hate yourself for stuttering, but it makes satoru laugh.

"sure, why not?" he says, walking over to where you're still sitting on his son's bed and resting a hand on your shoulder. satoru rubs the side of your neck with his thumb, cerulean eyes fixed on your lips. "might be about time to teach my son a lesson anyways."

satoru's agreement surprises you enough to make your mouth fall open, and soon enough, his dick replaces the empty space between your lips.

"shit, you're takin' me so good, baby," satoru groans, hand tangled in your hair as he pushes his dick deeper into your throat. "yeah, that's it, jus' like tha— fuck," he cuts himself off with a breathy laugh as you nearly choke.

he's big, way bigger than your ex, and you wonder how his dad's big dick gene skipped him. and even better, satoru's skilled too. he knows how to fuck you good, and you can tell that it's from experience, not from watching porn—unlike his lame excuse of a son.

"tell me, sweetheart," satoru drawls, looking down at you with a cheeky smile. "was my son half as good as i am in bed?"

when you shake your head no, satoru clicks his tongue in disapproval. "shit, now y're gonna expect every guy you fuck with to be as good as me. well, sorry 'bout that, because they aren't."

at least you know where his son gets his arrogance from. 

it's getting a little hard to breathe, especially since you have ten inches of dick shoved down your throat. despite all satoru's talk, you can tell that he's getting close to cumming down your throat—his eyes are twitching and his breaths are starting to become more and more shaky as you suck him off. soon enough, the coil in his stomach snaps and he cums, cursing and praising you as he does. satoru's grip on your hair tightens, and it's borderline painful as he tugs you deeper by the hair.

"shit, that was the best head i've had in a while," he groans after his breathing starts to go back to normal. satoru grins at you, shaking his head and pinning you on your back on the bed.

"you've already been fucked by a gojo here, haven't you?" satoru cooes, tracing your jawline with one of his fingers. "tch, i'll fuck you better than my shithead son ever could. show ya the reason we gojos have a reputation for our dicks."

and fuck, he does. after quickly making you cum on his fingers with the excuse of loosening you up, he roughly shoves his dick in your already-throbbing pussy with a grin. he's so fucking big that you've convinced he's gonna rip you in half.

"g-gojo, i can't—"

"sure y'can," he cuts you off, jaw tightening as you tighten around him. "fuckin' hell, you're just tight as a virgin. my son must be shit in bed, yeah?"

"mhm," you hum, tilting back your head and gasping for air as you feel your body heat up. "shit— right there—"

satoru grins, dipping his head and meeting your tear-lidded eyes. he's far from gentle—it's barely been a couple minutes and your back is already in the highest arch of your life, and it's hard to form coherent thoughts as satoru continues bullying his cock into your pussy.

you lose track of time easily—fuck, you forget there's even a world outside of whatever this is. at some point your tongue falls out of your mouth, lolling to the side as your eyes roll back—just a dumb slut for satoru; or at least that's what he calls you.

as you approach what must be the hundredth orgasm of the night, satoru asks you to say his name. it's almost embarrassing how much effort it is to say—he's fucked you dumb enough to the point where you're a babbling mess.

"shit, you can't even talk," satoru says with a grin, flicking your forehead playfully. "cute." he rests his elbow by your head and shoves his hand over your mouth, amusement dancing in his eyes. "you talk too much anyways, princess. take a break."

you whine against his hand and satoru shakes his head, a faux pout on his face. "c'mon, it's not like you can talk anyways," he tsks. his next thrust is particularly rough, and you can't seem to remember who the name of the dickhead who got you in this situation—what was your ex's name again? does it matter?

"yeah i can" you mumble, voice muffled by satoru's hand. when his pout deepens, you can't help but giggle, a sound that soon turns to a squeal when he pushes the side of your face into the mattress.

"what's so funny?" satoru grumbles, dipping his head and pressing his lips against the hand seperating your mouth from his. satoru's glimmering eyes are fixed on yours as a cheeky smile spreads across his face. "fine then."

he pulls out, cursing under his breath as he presses his back to the headboard. satoru ignores the hm? that slips out of your lips and removes his hand from your mouth, resting it on his dick instead and stroking it with a smirk. "what is it, princess?"

"wha— why'd you stop?"

satoru lifts his other wrist, studying the watch on it and turning his hand so you can see too. your vision is still so fucked up that the numbers look like swimming otters, but you can vaguely make out the time.

"it's been fifteen minutes, kid. time to go."

your mouth falls open and you sit up, still breathing heavily. one second you're having the best sex of your life, and the next your ex's dad is calling you kid and telling you it's time to go?

"not fair," you mumble, pulling your legs into your chest and resting your head on your knees. "that was a stupid time limit," you huff, chest heaving. "i couldn't have done anything to him in fifteen minutes anyways."

satoru snorts, stretching his arms and resting his hands behind his head. "i'd say we did something in those fifteen minutes," he says dryly, white hair falling into his eyes. 

"hmph."

satoru raises his eyebrows, biting the inside of his lip as he continues stroking himself. you notice the way his abs flex and tense the closer he gets; something that shouldn't be as attractive as it is.

"can't believe my dumbass son fucked up so badly with a girl like you," he groans after a minute, back resting against the headboard as he continues stroking his dick. "won't be seein' you around here again, huh?"

you blink, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as satoru eyes you intently. "what d'you mean?"

before satoru can answer, the two of you hear footsteps, and before either of you can do anything, standing in the doorway to his own room is your ex, a giggling girl on his arm. the faint scent of alcohol floods through your nose as they stumble in, and it's all you can do to stop yourself from laughing when your ex sees that his bed is already occupied.

"why the hell is my dad in bed with my ex-girlfriend?!"

[nereidprinc3ss]

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you. 

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 

“Nice, nice. What else?” 

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  

You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 

“Then I’m on my way.” 

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 

You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 

His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  

At least, until he goes home. 

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 

“That among other things.” 

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 

“Okay.” 

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  

“Thanks,” you murmur.  

His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 

“Anytime.” 

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 

“I can’t do that, honey.” 

“Why not?” 

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 

“Because we’re not together anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 

When he kisses you, it feels like home. 

[songbirdseung]

bye bye / lee heeseung

synopsis: your favorite song of the week has been making your boyfriend think you got something to say to him.

pairing: idol!heeseung x reader

warnings: insecurities??

"I think you're overthinking it" Jake says as he and the rest of the members are walking towards the dance studio. "But she plays it all the time when I get home" voicing out his thoughts one more time to let them understand his point of view. "Maybe she just likes the song? ever thought of that?" Jay opens the door while chuckling at how Heeseung's brain works and making him think you singing Ariana's song over and over again mean that you wanna break up with him.

After practice, he finds himself back at your house. He makes his way in with the spare key that you gave him. Walking towards your room, he can already here the 'Eternal Sunshine' album blasting through your speakers.

Heeseung hesitated outside the bedroom door, the faint strains of music seeping through the cracks. With a soft knock, he pushed the door open, stepping into a room filled with the melody of 'bye'. you were on your bed, eyes closed, lost in the emotion of the music, your voice carrying the weight of the lyrics.

For a week now, he had watched you immerse yourself in this routine, playlist looping the same heart-wrenching tunes. "YN," he called softly, breaking through your reverie. You turned to him, surprise flickering in your eyes before you quickly masked it with a smile.

"Heeseung! I didn't hear you come in," you said. Heeseung approached her slowly, his poor heart heavy with worry. "YN, can we talk?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Your smile faltered, and you nodded, motioning for him to take a seat beside you on the bed. Heeseung took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before he spoke.

"Is everything okay? You've been listening to these breakup songs for days now, and… I can't help but wonder if… if there's something you want to tell me," he confessed, his gaze searching hers for any sign of the truth.

Your eyes widened in realization, and you reached out to gently cup his face, your touch warm and reassuring. "Oh, Heeseung, I'm so sorry if I made you worry," you said softly, voice filled with sincerity.

"But why these songs? Are you… are you trying to tell me something?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

With a soft laugh, shaking your head. "No, Heeseung, not at all. I just enjoy the melody and everything. Shouldn't you understand? I mean you're the artist here." Heeseung felt a weight lift off his shoulders, a sense of clarity washing over him. He reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

[harrysfolklore]

of the jealous kind - charles leclerc blurb

inspired by this request ! i hope you like it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The Miami heat embraced your skin as you walked holding Charles' hand through the Ferrari garage. It was race day and you were beyond excited to be joining him.

The Miami Grand Prix was known to be a place where all kinds of celebrities wanted to be, from actors to influencers, the paddock and the garages were filled with starlets who wanted to meet the drivers. So you wondered who would you be seeing around the area and possibly fangirling if any of your favorite celebrities happened to attend

"They told me Ed Sheeran is coming," Charles said, as if he read your mind, "I really want to meet him, he's a legend."

"Look at you, fan boy," you teased, pinching his side and letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders, "Are you going to tell him how many times you play his songs around the house?"

"Definetely, I'm also going to ask him to sign my forehead," he said and you threw your head back in laughter, "Are you good? Do you want anything to drink? Or anything I can get you."

You smiled tenderly at him, one of Charles' many love languages was always making sure you felt comfortable and happy, no matter the place or setting.

"I'm all good, baby," you pecked his cheek affectionately, "I can't wait for the race to start, honestly."

"Me too, I have a great feeling about this one," he moved his arm to placed around your waist, squeezing your hip, "I feel like it's going to be special."

Before you could reply, someone from his team called for him.

"I'll be back in a minute, mon coeur," he kissed your lips quickly, "Don't go too far, okay?"

"Don't miss me too much." You winked at him and sent him his way, watching as he walked off with a confident stride.

As you waited for Charles to return, you took in the atmosphere of the garage. Mechanics rushed around, making last-minute adjustments to the cars, while team members and guests mingled, discussing the upcoming race. You spotted a few familiar faces among the crowd, fellow drivers and their partners, all sharing in the pre-race anticipation.

Lost in thought, you almost didn't notice when a voice called out your name. Turning, you could swear your jaw fell to the floor as you realized that it was Zayn, your ex-boyfriend.

You and Zayn dated for almost two years and broke up nearly six years ago, the breakup was healthy and you were in good terms with him after it, but it had been years since you had seen each other, and you had never expected to run into him here, of all places.

"YN, hey," Zayn said, a warm smile on his face as he reached you, "Wow, it's been a while,"

"Yeah, it has," you replied, returning his smile. "What are you doing here? Are you a fan of Formula 1 now?"

"Yeah, I'm really into it," he said, "I was dying to meet the drivers and hang around here, I'm glad I could finally do it."

"That's amazing," you said, genuinely surprised. "I had no idea you were into that kind of stuff."

"Yeah, it's been a huge hobby of mine for a while now," Zayn explained. "But enough about me, how have you been? What have you been up to?"

You filled Zayn in on your life since you last saw each other, telling him about your job, your hobbies, and of course, your relationship with Charles. Zayn listened intently, nodding along and asking questions, clearly interested in hearing about your life.

"I'm really happy for you, YN," Zayn said sincerely. "It sounds like you're in a really good place right now."

"Thank you, Zayn," you replied, smiling sincerely at him, "I'm glad we ran into each other. It's nice to catch up."

Before any of you could say anything else, you felt a presence behind you and a strong arm wrapping protectively around your waist.

You didn't have to turn around and look at his face to know that Charles was jealous.

"Hey, love," he said, his gaze fixed on your face, "All good?"

"Yeah, I was just catching up with Zayn. Zayn, this is Charles,"

"Her boyfriend," he said before you could even speak, and you almost rolled your eyes comically, "It's nice to meet you, mate."

"Nice to meet you too," Zayn said as you shook hands, "YN was just telling me about you, I'm a big fan."

"Likewise," Charles replied, his tone polite and kind but and with a hint of possessiveness "Are you visiting all the Garages?"

"Yeah, that's my goal for the day," Zayn said, "Actually, I should probably get going, It was really nice seeing you, YN. And it was great meeting you, Charles."

"Yeah, it was nice catching up," you replied, offering him a smile.

"Take care, both of you, and goof luck on the race." Zayn said, returning your smile.

As Zayn walked away, you could feel Charles relaxing beside you. He turned to you, his expression softening, and you looked at him with accusing eyes.

"So, care to explain what was that?" you said, raising your eyebrows at him.

"What was what?" Charles looked at you innocently, but you could see his jaw was still tensed

"Don't play dumb, Charles," you chuckled, nudging him with your elbow. "You were totally jealous back there, acting all petty and protective."

"I wasn't jealous," he protested, but his eyes betrayed him, glancing away for a split second before meeting yours again, "I wasn't!"

"Sure, sure," you teased, wrapping your arm around his waist and leaning into him. "It's cute, you know. Seeing you get all protective."

"Okay, you win," he rested his arm on your back, "I just wanted him to know you're with me now."

"Don't worry, I think he got the message," you teased, leaning into his side.

"Good," Charles chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple "Because I don't like sharing."

"Don't be ridiculous now," you rolled your eyes playfully, "You're like a big, jealous puppy."

"Hey, I can't help it," Charles protested, a grin on his face, "You're stunning and such a catch, anyone would die to be with you," he said, instantly making you blush, "I just love you so much."

"I love you too," you replied, leaning up to kiss him softly, "Now, come on, let's go watch you win this race."

"Sounds like a plan," Charles said, squeezing your waist, "I hope Verstappen doesn't ruin that plan though."

[suna-cerely-yours]

I wanna get him back ( wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad!) - ft g. suguru

a/n: listen, i love satoru- it might not seem like it, but i really do, he'd be the best bf ever.

warnings: minors do not interact, afab! reader, reader is called a slut, girlfriend, public sex, implied noncon voyeurism

songs: get him back! - olivia rodrigo, one of your girls- the weeknd, wine pon you- doja cat (i highly recommend you listen in this order)

"He's such a fucking asshole, I'm going to kill-", your words are cut off by your friend pressing a shot glass to your lips. "Woah, girlfriend- calm it, you broke up with him, remember?"

Taking the shot glass from her, you bite on the salt-lined rim, eyes still fixed on a certain white-haired menace leaning against the bar across the dance floor, clearly flirting with the petite blonde in front of him.

"We've been broken up for a month, a month! Who the hell moves on that quickly? "

Your friend pats your back sympathetically, giving your other friend a wide-eyed look behind your back. "Well, he wasn't the most dedicated boyfriend around y'know? Fuck him, honestly- don't let this ruin your night!"

Furrowing your brow, your press your lips together momentarily, tasting the grains of salt stuck to your lipgloss, before downing the shot. Slamming the glass down on the table, you straighten- adjusting the straps of your low-cut dress.

"I wanna get him back," you announce- not noticing your friend tip her head back and exhale frustratingly, while the one seated across from the both you hides a laugh behind her glass.

"As in get revenge," you clarify, "By hate fucking him. And maybe keying his stupid car."

"Not this again, let him go already! The only good thing about him was his height, anyway- didn't you say he had a temper, and and- in bed! he's a selfish lover right- don't do this-"

Her words fall on deaf ears as you get up and exit the booth, raising your hand in response to the "call us if you need us!" from your friends- set on blazing a path through the crowded dance floor to the man in question.

Wading through sweaty bodies you get closer to the bar, when a hand circles your wrist, stopping you. Jerking your hand back you turn, only for the person to press a hand to your lower back, forcibly turning you to face them. You open your mouth, ready to give the stranger a piece of your mind, when you stop. Blinking at the lightly sweaty skin revealed by the light blue button-down unbuttoned at the neck, you tilt your head up, a black stud catching your eye first- then bangs.

"Long time no see, princess."

Your shitty ex-boyfriend's best friend stands before you, grinning, looking just as devastatingly handsome as he had the night you broke up with your ex.

(Suguru had been present for the nasty breakup, just as he had always been present throughout your short-lived relationship with his best friend. And you had no way of confirming, but you had a strange feeling that he might have somehow also been around during the more physically intimate moments of your relationship.)

"Don't touch me, you- you monkey, or I swear I'll-" you hiss, trying to step away from the man, only for him to shift his grip to tighten around your hips, pushing you closer until you're pressed up against him.

"Haven't seen you around much doll, and you're already running away? I'm hurt," he mocks, leaning closer, minty breath fanning over your face. "You wouldn't happen to be running towards Satoru, would you? He's a little preoccupied from the looks of it."

Clenching your jaw you glare up at him, painfully aware of how firm and strong he felt against you.

"He needs to learn to grieve a breakup," you say, flattening your palms against his chest, "Clearly-"

"And how exactly do you plan on doing that? By showing up as the clingy ex? Never thought you were the type, doll."

You swallow once, turning your head to glance at Satoru. He's closer to the blonde now, running a hand up and down her back, while she laughs, clutching at his arms. You doubt he's even noticed you tonight.

"Whatever, fuck, I'll just key his car- now would you let go-"

"Key his car?" you can hear the mirth in his voice, as you feel your face heat with embarrassment.

"Why the fuck are you still here, I'll scream if you don't unhand me right now, Geto."

You feel one hand slide lower until it covers your ass, lightly squeezing. You sharply inhale, when he leans closer, whispering in your ear, " He's looking."

You suck on your lower lip, unconsciously tilting your head to give him more room. He hovers for a moment, before nuzzling into your neck- breath hot, lips wet.

"You wanna make him jealous? Want your revenge? Fucking his best friend is a better place to start than keying his car."

You know it's a bad, no- terrible idea. If Satoru was bad, Suguru was arguably worse. However, standing in his arms in the dimly lit room, with writhing bodies around you, the Weeknd crooning on the bass boosting speakers and the rush of alcohol through your veins- you find it difficult to listen to the warning bells in your head. He's pressing open mouthed kisses you the sensitive skin of your neck and décolletage now, slipping his leg between your thighs, pushing you forward to grind your core against his leg.

You whimper, desire flooding through you, and slide your hands up to clasp around his neck.

"Is he still looking?"

You feel Suguru grin, "Yes."

You press forward, feeling your dress ride up as you grind your pussy on his clothed thigh, mouth parting as he grips your ass and helps you find a better angle.

"That's my dirty girl, I can feel how wet you are already- you're getting off like this in public? Always knew you were a slut."

You moan, rolling your hips, as he slips his thumb in your mouth, lightly pressing on your lower teeth, forcing you to open your mouth further. You lock eyes with him, watching him lick his lower lip, before pressing them to yours, licking into your mouth. You whine, eyes fluttering shut, as you feel yourself getting closer to your high.

The hand that had previously been in your mouth slides down your front, slipping into your dress, thumb sliding over your nipple. You feel your panties wedge between your folds, soaked through. Slipping a hand under your dress, he pulls your panties up, so they push up creating more friction.

He draws his face back, panting lightly, and murmurs against your lips, "Say my name, princess. Whose leg are you humping like a whore where everyone can see? Who are you letting touch you everywhere?"

"Suguru! Oh Suguru, please I'm so close, just-"

"What the actual fuck is going on here?" a very familiar voice cuts through the haze. Your eyes widen, locking with angry, icy blue ones, just as Suguru flexes his thigh, pushing you to your climax. Your head jerks back, you gasp, pussy clenching around nothing as you cum.

"Suguru what the fuck-"

"Satoru, would you shut up, your girlfriend is cumming on my thigh right now, you should take notes- I don't think I've ever seen you actually make her cum."

"I'm not his girlfriend."

"Wanna be mine instead?"

[jeannineee]

ending your relationship

(ft. satoru, suguru, kento, megumi, yuji)

author's note: hmm was listening to music and got in an angsty mood. sorry y'all. i also linked the songs that i was listening to while writing each character lmao. i know this is a different writing style but smau is burning me out rn. so yeah!!

warnings: angst. implied breakup. could also be implications of getting back together? idk. interpret this how you want lmao.

Satoru Gojo ...accepting that someone who knew everything about you is now little more than a stranger. knowing more about him than he knows about himself, and realizing you'll live with that knowledge and never again speak to him about it. uncomfortable silence lingering in the spaces he used to fill. a heavy awkwardness when you happen to run into him at the grocery store months later--awkwardness that wasn't there before.

Suguru Geto ...acting casual the next time you see him, despite knowing you'd do anything he'd ask of you--if only he'd ask. being met with his usual nonchalance; trying to mirror it despite the devotion within you threatening to make itself known again. holding your breath when he watches you with eyes that strip you bare, but the only words out of his mouth are, "how's work going?"

Kento Nanami ...loving so intensely that you push him away. trying to love more gently. giving up pieces of yourself to ensure he stays--though he never hinted at leaving. longing deeply for his reciprocation; knowing it will never be enough. the helplessness of knowing he won't change, or is too tired to change.

Megumi Fushiguro ...both of you knowing your relationship is failing but being too scared to say it out loud. always being there for one another after it finally ends--loyal as a dog. consuming each other's thoughts. forever wondering if you made the right choice. holding hope that there might be a place together in the future. right person, wrong time.

Yuji Itadori ...opening his mouth to speak, but stopping himself for fear of being annoying. continuing to do so even after being reassured that he isn't annoying. needing constant reassurance. talking on the phone at three in the morning because neither of you can sleep, and you miss the sound of each other's voices. talking until you fall asleep because neither of you want to hang up.

[spideysbruh]

karma

summary- yn and shawn mendes break up. things get a little messy. timothee comes into the picture.

a/n- i can make shawn mendes a lil mean in this idc idc!!! also, ~~~ means time has passed

@popbase tweeted-

BREAKING NEWS: Actress Y/N L/N and popstar Shawn Mendes have officially broken up after three years together.

@ynsperfectlywrong replied- WHAT NOOOO💔💔💔💔 MY PARENTS

@sabrinasyn replied to @ynsperfectltwrong- guess your @ is real now...

@spideysyn replied- TOO SOON 😭💔💔

@ynscinderella replied- you can tell they've been broken up for a while bc they used to alwayssss post each other and then it just Stopped.

@yngoddess replied- I wonder why... he did seem a little off towards the end

@whenyoureyn replied to @yngoddess- you don't know them.

@rodrigoyn replied- he's been detached from everything recently. she can only help him so much. I hope he gets better.

@lauriesrings replied to @rodrigoyn- fr maybe he'll write an album about it LMAO

liked by melissabarrera, tchalamet, madisonbeer and 2,887,398 others

y/n alexa, play dangerous by madison beer

view all 43,826 comments

ynssocks OOOOF

madisonbeer great song 👍

y/n liked

ynstan MAKE HIM REGRET IT

chalshalamet has timmy always liked her posts ???

spideyyn bro's making a move 💀💀

shawnsyn that song though.... what did he to our girl😭😭😭

@celebritynews tweeted-

Shawn Mendes has recently spoken up about his and y/n l/n's breakup in a recent interview. "we were both just really wrong for eachother. towards the end, i felt like we were just completely different people. It wasn't like my previous relationships, it was almost suffocating."

He continued to say that the relationship was a great "learning experience", but still mentions his ex. "Our relationship was, for the most part, amazing, at the time it was a breath of fresh air. But it just wasn't how I imagined and previously experienced."

There are no comments yet from y/n on this.

@ynsgoldfish replied- oh so he's still in love w his ex.... and was constantly comparing the two girls and the two different relationships?? okay. got it. fuck this guy lol

@chappellyn replied- bro he's still obsessed with his ex im dead. didn't they date for like. one year barely 💀💀

@midnightyn replied- it wasn't like he "previously experienced" ummm maybe that's a good thing??? he's so fucking stupid.

@sunriseyn replied- remember when she had made a silly little tiktok about how she thought taron egerton was rly cute in Kingsman and Shawn then posted a video of him singing some sad song and also another tiktok showing how jealous he was LMAOOO sore loser. he doesn't know how good he had it with her.

@girlyyn replied to @sunriseyn- this^^^ like there were soooo many red flags w him but we were all just so in love w the idea of the relationship nobody saw it coming fr

@y/n tweeted-

my kink is karma

~~~

@popbase tweeted-

Shawn Mendes has just announced a new single! Releasing at the end of the month, titled 'Miss You More Than Anything'

@ynsgf replied- sooo embarrassing 💀💀

@fiveyn replied- bro realized too late LMAOOO sucks for him.

@chalametyns replied- it'd be sooooo funny if it was bad 💀

@bluecurtains replied- oh it will be 💀

liked by tchalamet, florencepugh, dovecameron and 2,236,366 others

y/n feeling like a feather

view all 67,282 comments

sabsyn WITH YOU OUT MY LIFE 🗣🗣🗣

ynsbabe her post breakup journey has been so beautiful to watch tbh. I hope she finds someone who loves her fully

beachyyn 'post-breakup' it's been like almost a year already

tchalamet pretty

y/n 🫶💕

blankieyn UMMMM ??!?!!!

laurieslaurence wait- WAITTTTT

loveryn rue, when was this??

~~~

@popnews tweeted-

'Miss You More Than Anything' by Shawn Mendes has been out for several months, and is still the singers lowest grossing song ever.

@sabrinayn replied- the shadeeee 💀💀

@pinkyn replied- FOR Y/N UNITED WE STAND

@thankfulyn replied- I listened and... it's definitely a song with lyrics and a beat 😁

@warmyn replied- he'll never be loved by the masses again, it's crazy. almost sad... almost

@cineyn replied- "still" is so funny I cant

@timotheeyn replied- that's why she's with timothee now 💀

@sunnyyn replied to @timotheeyn- wait, it's confirmed?!???

@timotheeyn replied- not by them, but it's pretty obvious LMAO

tchalamet just posted a story!

@y/n tweeted-

not a lot going on at the moment, but life is good 🙏🏼🙏🏼

@ynsgirlfriend replied- you're so funny girl I love you

@y/n replied- why am I funny? im just vibing fr

@ynsautumn replied- she's living her best life fr

liked by tchalamet, shawnmendes, sabrinacarpenter and 3,287,272

y/n come with me... and you'll see...

view all 198,937 comments

lauriesrings THE WONKA REFERENCEEEE

rachelzegler literally the prettiest girl ever

y/n liked

y/n I literally love you so much.

ynsdinonuggets shawn liking is crazy 💀 SHE DONT WANT YOUU 🗣🗣🗣

piercetheyn imagine fumbling y/n 💀💀..... @shawnmendes IMAGINE 💀💀💀

tchalamet a worlddd of pure imagination !!!!

y/n omg youre my favorite actor hmu 😍

florencepugh so beautiful I miss you!!!

y/n liked

liked by y/n, francesa.scorsese and 4,847,727 others

tchalamet one year with you is crazy. best year of my life. you're the sunlight on my darkest days and just what I need on the good ones. you are everything I've ever wanted in one person and even more than I ever imagined. I miss you even when I'm right beside you, but especially when I'm not. I Love you, Y/n L/n.

view all 322,727 comments

laurieslaurence BROOOOOO

y/n im crying in this panda express omg

tchalamet liked

y/n you make me feel so special and so so loved. happy one year, timmy 🩷

tchalamet you are loved. happy one year, my love

alessiacara yall are too cute omg

ynscurtains BRO ONE YEARRRRR !?!!

kylesballs ellos son mis padres 😁

y/n just posted a story!

caption- 💕💕

liked by madisonbeer, tchalamet and 3,186,616 others

y/n I love you. you are the best thing to ever happen to me. you came during a confusing, heartbreaking, tumultuous time in my life that I was sure I would never get through. but I did and you were my reward. god, what a reward. I am forever grateful for you and everything you've taught me, and are continuing to teach me. happy one year my beautiful Man.

view all 122,282 comments

ynsmotivation okay I may be delusional but 'Man' being capitalized... maybe cause shawn was, and still is, acting like a boy LMAOOO

tchalamet I love you my pretty, talented, inspiring, strong, beautiful girl.

liked by y/n

harpyn and NOTHING for shawn 🤭🤭 funny how things work out.

rachelzegler we gotta have a double date soon!!

liked by y/n

*

[two-white-butterflies]

is it over now? | c16

Description: You reminisce about a relationship that was never meant to be. Charles moves on - but you stay there.

Pairing: charles leclerc/short!reader

(not really that short, more like 4'11 - 5'3)

yournamelovely: 1989 (Taylor's Version) is out now! I had so much fun being the only feature in the remastered album. Please listen to 'Is It Over Now?' 💙🦋 Thank you for this beautiful opportunity Tay!

liked by 2,382,012 others

>comments

theraindrops4: I'm so proud of you 😭

taylorswift: 💙

nickdevries: Don't forget us when you're famous. - yournamelovely: Who are you again??

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There were many different ways to get over a breakup; some of them included healing, traveling and finding yourself - but how could you get over Charles fucking Leclerc? He was everything that you wanted in a man - dimpled cheeks, monegasque accent, and a perfect family that you adored. He was everything you needed.

When he decided to call things off three months ago. You haven't been the same. "Congrats on your new song with Taylor! I listened to it and I can't believe you both kept it hidden for 6 years?" Selena chuckled while handing you one of Taylor's famous mocktails.

"It was supposed to be in my debut album - but it didn't make sense. Now, I think - it makes absolute sense." you chuckled, staring off to the side. Yep, Charles' new fling was a Slovakian model - who by all means, looked beautiful. Blonde hair and blue eyes, you couldn't find it in yourself to hate her. How could anyone hate an angel?

"Oh come on, we have to catch up soon. You still haven't told me about the thing with Charles." Blake's eyes narrowed, she leaned on the door-frame - eyes trailing back and forth between you and her kids that were running around the backyard. "What is there left to say? Our relationship was amazing - it ended and we're going in separate ways." you simplified, leaning on the chair.

Blake took a deep breath, finally settling down in between Selena and Ryan. "I always thought that you'd end up together," she admitted - although she sooner realized that it wasn't the proper thing to say. "Charles, ending up with someone? He's not the guy that dreams about marriage. Maybe in another life, I'll want something less." you looked in the deep horizon.

"Maybe it was for the better that things ended - you obviously didn't agree on big things. You deserve to be happier." Ryan butted in the conversation, sensing that you were in deep thought. "I guess," you agreed with a hum.

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yournamelovely: quickie mart mwahaha

liked by nickdevries and 1,239,120 others

>comments

yournamelover: WHAT IS THIS HUMOR? HAHAHA

charlos92: please get back with charles

destinyshanggggee: I WOULDN'T MARRY ME EIGHTER

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olenna_markiz: Congratulations lovie! @Charles_Leclerc

liked by 81,203 others

>comments

hollyshit2: YOU LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER

bolld6: the look of pure love omg

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charlesandy/nforever: real eyes realize that she was the one ...

liked by 712 others

>comments

derivativeofx: The way that he threw it all away 😭

leftovers8: WE NEED AN EXPLAINATION

yournameleclerc: huhuhuhu

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You thought that having the internet hate Charles' new girlfriend would make you feel better - but it honestly made you feel worst. The entire fucking world fucking hates her, thinks that she's better than you - but it wouldn't change the fact that he chose her. It wouldn't change the fact that you didn't blame her.

You would risk the world for Olenna Markiz too.

"There has been a flurry of hate in social media directed towards your past relationship and his new girlfriend. What do you have to say about that?" the interviewer cornered you. The grip on your hoodie tightened - you wanted to buy food, but the Paps found you. "This is about Charles and Olenna, right? I'll be blunt - our relationship did end on a sour note but it's not an excuse to be mean towards her."

"- at the end of the day, we're separately happy. Please stop making rumors about us or about her. Especially her - because umm she wasn't the reason for our breakup. Judging from the posts I see on social media, they're really in love. I wish nothing but the best for them." you smiled bitterly, walking away as your manager suddenly rushes to your side.

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ynandcharlesuniverse: 1 year ago, (Your Name) wrote 'Timeless' for Charles Leclerc. I believe that we were supposed to find this, cuz even in a different life you still would've been mine.

liked by 827 others

comments have been restricted.

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Charles_Leclerc: With the beautiful girl 💞

liked by yournamelovely and 1,283,930 others

>comments

romanempire3: beautiful pair omgg

carlandodestroyer: OLENNA MARKIZ IS LITERALLY MOMMY

obladioblada: does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night...

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yournamelovely: World Tour EP ... featuring three songs: lacy, nonsense and vicious.

liked by 3,283,012 others

>comments

nickdevries: LACY >>>

danielricciardo: LACY >>>

chickenpozes34: WE ARE FED

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.

"Hey!" you waved at the girl beside you.

It was a charity gala - benefiting the orphans of Europe. To your surprise, you were seated beside Olenna Markiz. The girl's shadow seemed to haunt you all the way to Texas. "Hi, it's nice to finally meet you. I'm such a big fan," she gives you a firm handshake.

There was cautiousness in her posture - like she was trying to determine if you were nice or bad. "Likewise, I love your work with Bottega and Mugler." you named, oblivious to the cameras that were pointed in your direction. "Really? Not a lot of people recognize me, to them we're just girls wearing clothes." she chuckled.

"It's hard to be a woman in this economy, but I assure you - there are lots of people who know how to appreciate art." you complimented. It was your dream to be a model - ever since you were little, you were always fascinated with supermodels. Alas, God didn't grant you with the suitable height required. "I just hope that I meet them soon enough," she whispered to herself, before returning her attention to the man on the stage.

.

.

.

Olenna didn't know what to expect with her boyfriend's ex-girlfriend. A lot of people in reddit spoke about her bluntness, that she was unapologetically human - often lashing out in her childhood star years. There weren't a lot of posts to go along. His ex valued her privacy, rarely even attended any interviews.

To her surprise, she was pleasant company. Often making jokes that she understood and found hilarious. It was easy falling in love with (Your Name) (Last Name), what Olenna couldn't understand was how Charles fell out of love. "It was nice hanging out with you, maybe we could grab some coffee in the future?" she offered, a foot inside her luxury car. "Sure, I'll give your agent my number." Lena agreed.

Happy to have made a friend.

.

.

.

LET'S NOT PIT WOMEN AGAINST EACH OTHER

WILL FOREVER BE A GIRL'S GIRL

[morgana-larkin]

I love angst for some reason, but can you write a Melissa x reader breakup fic? Where reader is in their mid 20’s and Melissa is obviously wayyy older than her. Melissa realized that they’re both heading in different paths in life and tries to gently breakup with reader, but calls her all the pet names like “kid/kiddo, young one, little bunny, etc” (this is taken from Taylor Swift’s ‘Illicit Affairs’ where she’s going “don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you’ve made me…”)

Maybe a part two if you’re feeling up to it, with gentle smut as reader and Melissa get back together and make love again? 👀

Oh I’m definitely making a part two to this, I mean I can’t leave things with Melissa on a sad note. So I went with the nicknames hon and kid. I did ended listening to the Taylor Swift song and based some of the things off of the song. And I just gotta say that I procrastinated on doing this for 4 days straight as it hit too close to home. I called off my engagement 3 months ago to someone 12 years older than me because we were heading down different paths in life. Anyway, not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: still taking prompts peeps!

Don’t Call Me That

Warnings: Angst and no comfort, no happy ending, may break your heart like it did for me

Words: 2.25k

You and Melissa are cuddling on the couch watching real housewives. Melissa found out you’ve never seen it so of course she had to show you. The two of you have been together for about 8 months now and never been happier.

Well, you have never been happier. Melissa was happy, but she still has so much doubt on whether or not she should have gotten with someone so much younger than her. Especially when you made comments on what you want to do with your life.

“I hope to get married someday.” You said once. “Maybe we can have kids together.” You said another time. “We should go out to a bar or a club together sometime.” You said one time. Melissa just looked at you and smiled each time but didn’t reply. Those thoughts swirl around in Melissa’s head until one day she couldn’t ignore them, you both wanted different things and she couldn’t let this relationship go on even more.

“Hey hon, can we talk?” She says to you when she visits you at your place on Saturday.

“Alright, sure.” You said, none the wiser. You and Melissa go on your couch and you face her with a smile. Melissa wishes you weren’t smiling as it makes it harder knowing that she’ll be that reason for that smile to drop.

“I don’t think this is working out anymore.” She starts and you look at her confused.

“What do you mean?” You ask and you frown.

“I mean this.” She says and gestures between you both. “Our relationship, I think we should end it.”

“Why?” You ask, concerned.

“Because we want different things in life hon. I don’t want to get married again, I wanted kids before but not anymore, and I don’t want to go to clubs if I don’t have too. But you’re young, you should have things you want and you should do it.” She tells you and you look down at your lap. She really wants to comfort you but knows she can’t.

“So that’s it? We’re over, just like that? I have no say in this?” You ask her and she looks guilty.

“I’m afraid so hon.” She says and you snap you head up at her.

“Don’t call me that if you’re gonna break up with me.” You snap and that catches her off guard. She knows you might be upset but didn’t think you’d snap at her, but she doesn’t blame you.

“I’m sorry y/n.” She tells you.

“Please leave.” You say and she nods defeatedly. She gets up and walks to the door and opens it. Before she leaves, she glances at you.

“I really am sorry.” She says and leaves. As soon as she closes the door, you get up and lock it, then you put your back on the door and slide down while crying.

On Monday you walked in the doors of Abbott and went to the break room as usual. Only this time instead of saying hi to Melissa when you pass her, you just walked right by her to the fridge.

“Hi hon.” Melissa says to you.

“Don’t call me that.” You say as you put your lunch in the fridge. Everyone turns their attention to you and Melissa as they knew you were dating. “My name is y/n.” You say to her and go to make a coffee.

“I know what your name is.” She tells you as you pour the coffee into your mug.

“Then I suggest you use it.” You tell her and walk out.

Melissa sighs and leans back into her seat.

“Trouble in paradise?” Barb asks Melissa.

“If trouble you mean broken up then yes.” Melissa says and everyone gasps.

“Omg what happened?” Janine asks.

“None of youse businesses.” She tells them and walks out. Everyone turns to Barb for answers.

“Don’t look at me, the only thing I know is Melissa broke up with y/n if their emotions are anything to go by.” Barb tells them.

Melissa tries to talk to you for the rest of the day when she gets an opportunity but you keep shutting her down.

She keeps trying every day for 2 weeks until she had enough. She got Mr Johnson to watch over her class while she goes to talk to you during your prep period.

She knocks on your door and walks in after you call out a ‘come in’ to whoever was there. When you look up you see the person you least expected, mostly because she has a class right now.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be teaching?” You tell her as she closes your door.

“Mr Johnson is watching them until I get back. I need to talk to you hon.”

“I keep telling you not to call me that! And the last time we talked, you broke up with me so I don’t really want to talk to you.” You told her and she sighs. You get up and go to bring a stack of papers to the back of the classroom.

“I know but I’ve been trying to at least be friends with you like we were before we started dating because I like our friendship.” She tells you as she follows you to the back and you whip around to face her.

“Friends? You think I would want to be friends with you? Melissa, do I need to remind you that you broke up with me and didn’t even bother talking about it with me? You just made the decision on your own.” You grit out.

“It was the best decision.”

“For who exactly? Cause it sure wasn’t the best for me.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“It was for you. I made it for you so you can have the life you want. I can’t give you everything! So I let you go so you could! Believe me when I tell you that I didn’t want to break up with you! You are the best damn thing to happen to me and it broke me to let you go!” She tells you and you gasp.

“That’s the reason?!? You. Are. An. Idiot Schemmenti! Just because I may have thought about certain things doesn’t mean it’s set in stone. I’m 25 and I’m not certain about what I want to do in life.”

“See that right there is what I’m talking about. You have no idea what you want cause your life has just begun, while mine, well I’m 55, I’m going to retire in 10 years hopefully. My life is almost over.” She tells you frantically and at that Barb comes in.

“Girls, can you quiet down. It’s hard enough to teach 5 year olds how to read the alphabet as it is. It’s even harder with your yelling.” She tells you both and you look at Melissa.

“What I knew I wanted in life was you. But I guess I was wrong. You should get back to your class.” You tell her and you leave to go print something. “Sorry Barb.” You tell her as you pass her by.

Barb looks at Melissa who has a couple tears rolling down her cheeks. “Sweetheart, what were you trying to accomplish here?” She asks her and Melissa lets a sob escape.

“I was trying to be friends with her again.” She tells her.

“Melissa, you just broke up with her out of the blue. At least for her it was out of the blue. You have to give it time before she might consider being your friend again.” Barb tells her and Melissa nods.

“I know, I just, I miss her.”

“Listen I have to go back to my classroom and you have to go back to yours but how about you come to my classroom at lunch and we can talk then.” Barb suggests and Melissa wipes her tears away.

“Ok.” She says with a nod and then leaves back to her classroom.

2 months go by and Melissa has stopped any interaction with you. You still know she looks and stares at you but never talks to you.

Melissa can’t help it whenever she sees you, she never talks to you even though she wants to, she just stares at you. Her heart breaks every time she sees you.

10 weeks after she breaks up with you, your both in the break room along with everyone else. You’re talking to the trio and they ask about your weekend plans and you mention you have a date. Melissa whips her head up from looking at her phone and her jaw drops and eyes got watery.

You may not be able to see her face but you saw her whip her head up. You also see Barb looking at her sympathetically which means she must look sad right now.

You tell them your contemplating on whether or not you should go, you think you shouldn’t but Janine and Gregory tell you to go and Jacob tells you no. You go over to Barb for the tie breaker and you show her a picture of the girl, Melissa also sees the picture of her and she realises that you’re going out with someone around her age.

Barb tells you it’s your choice and that’s when Melissa pipes up. “Isn’t she too old for you kid?” She asks you while taking a bite of her pasta.

You glare at her and scoff. “I think that’s for me to decide, cause I do have a say in some things.” You tell her and she looks down guiltily.

On Monday morning you walk in the break room and the trio asks you how your date went.

“It was alright. We’re going out again this Saturday.” You tell them and you hear Melissa scoff. “Something you want to say Melissa?” You ask her and she turns around in her chair.

“It doesn’t seem you’re interested in her since you said it was alright.” She tells you.

“Well it was my first date with her and I haven’t had a first date in a year.” You say and she stands up, grabs her things and walks out. You turn back to the trio and continue the conversation. Barb follows Melissa out to make sure she’s not destroying anything or about too.

The next Monday you’re talking to the trio about your second date and you tell them that you’re not going to see her again as you’re not interested in her. You don’t see it but Melissa smiles. You don’t but Barb sure does and rolls her eyes at her.

It’s been 3 months since the break up now and you stop by quickly at Melissa’s to get a few things she recently found that’s yours. In reality, Melissa found them 3 months ago and hid them when you came to get your things so she would have a few reminders of yours but now she wants an excuse to talk to you.

The box of your things is on the coffee table and Melissa is sitting on the arm of the couch when you walk in. Melissa told you that she’ll leave the door unlocked for you.

“Are those the things?” You tell her and nod your head to the box and she nods at you.

“Ya, it is.” She tells you and you don’t really move, she sees you looking around. You usually went to her place about 3 times a week to hang out with her after school and she would make dinner for you two.

“How are you kid?” She asks you and you look at her.

“I thought I’ve told you to stop with the nicknames and use my actual name.”

“You have, but I like using nicknames for you.” Is all she says.

“Why?”

“Because I always have, I’ve rarely called you by your actual name. It feels wrong to call you by your actual name.”

“Well you might want to work on how to make it sound right.” You tell her and walk over to grab the box and she grabs your wrist and you gasp.

“You never answered me when I asked how you were.” She tells you.

“You really want to know how I am?” You ask and she nods. “I’m broken.” You told her and her eyes look upset. “You broke up with me and now I’m broken and a mess. I chose not to go on a third date because all I thought about on the two dates was you.” You tell her and she lets go of you but you make no attempt to move. You want to challenge her to something to see what she really thinks and you grab the back of her head and you kiss her. She’s stunned for a second but then she automatically kisses you back but then you pull back 3 seconds later and she looks at you shocked. “You can’t tell me that that doesn’t feel right. I may not know much about what I want in life but I know I wanted to spend it with you. I’m aware of the age gap but it never made a difference to me because I love you. I thought you loved me.” You tell her then you grab the box and leave.

As soon as you close the door, Melissa falls down on the couch and starts crying. “I’m so sorry y/n.” She sobs out. “I do still love you.”

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

Let me know if you want to be added!

[be-missed]

Find You Again (Drabble)

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

(pictures not mine)

Summary: Four months post-breakup, Y/N "swiftly" moved on, entangled with a rising singer. Jenna, still raw from their shattered romance, covertly attended Y/N's performance at Coachella Valley Music. The echo of Y/N's new song sliced through her soul like a knife, reigniting her heartbreak with an unbearable intensity.

Warnings: curse words, notify me if there are any

A/N: This is a backstory. A new song released by Wendy, so listen to it if you can!

Song: His Car Isn't Yours // WENDY

Masterlist

_____________________________________________________________

"Do you wanna go around to get some food?" Mia asked Jenna, obviously trying to get her away from the stage where Y/N will perform in a few. The both of you planned this; You will perform your first ever stage in Coachella while she watch you. But it turns out that the world has other plans for the both of you.

You broke up with each other four months ago, but you are now dating a rising singer for two months. It fucking hurt, really. It hurt Jenna so deep. She never heard from you after you dropped off her things in her house and she went away to do filming.

"No, uhm, you go ahead, I'm not really hungry" Jenna smiled timidly to her sister. Mia nodded and leaves Jenna alone at their spot, near enough to watch you clearly, but far enough to not be seen.

Five minutes later, the crowd are cheering for your opening song. Jenna was watching you sing, reminiscing those days where the both of you were in a studio and she was the only person that gets to hear your masterpiece. She wants to gatekeep you actually, she doesn't want anyone thinking that they wanted to be yours. Because you are only hers and she's only for you.

She remembers how she drives to your house, picking you up, driving fast in the highway and driving slow through the suburbs. She remembers how you were always waiting up in your driveway waiting for her car to park in front so that you can greet her. Jenna sometimes parks her car on the other side of the street just to surprise you, but hell she wonders how you still noticed where she is parked.

A tear fell from her eyes, she wiped it up fast, not wanting to be seen. She hates herself right now, she hates how she is so hung up on you while you were out there dating some dude. Jenna thought to herself, "Did some force take you because I didn't pray?" because if it did, right here, right now, she'll be on her knees begging that things aren't real and she's just dreaming.

Your voice break her thoughts when you said "So this song is for someone... that has been a part of my life. A big part actually." You bitterly smiled, Jenna saw the camera focused on you, it didn't go unnoticed that you were actually finding someone in the crowd. You continue to speak "So uhm, if you are ever here, this is for you."

Jenna is nervous, because it's either you sing a song about that dude or your gonna sing about her. But she doesn't want to get her hopes high, so she did some breathing exercises to ground herself when the intro of the song started.

You start singing the song, it was... a sad one. A song that is actually about you and her. The moon is taking over the sun making the venue a tad bit darker, making the fans lit up the flashlights on their phone.

You moved to the center of the stage, closer to the people that are watching you. Scanning every possible face that your low resolution eyes can see. Trying so hard to find Jenna, because she promised. She promised she'll watch your first performance in Coachella.

Am I supposed to find someone

Makes me feel how I felt?

I'm trying think it's time that

I try again with someone new

The stream of tears on Jenna's face is now continuous, no matter how hard she tried to stop herself, she just couldn't. No one knew the relationship that you two had, no one knew that the two of you are connected. The both of you are rising stars in each track that you take, but the both of you are still not famous enough to break the internet with some dating rumors.

Now it's eight o'clock and I'm waiting on

This good guy to come pick me up

I just wanna have a good night

He's pulling up, oh my God, I see the headlights

And he opens my door but his car isn't yours

It's not you anymore in my driveway

It isn't you drivers seat on the highway

It isn't you on your way every Friday

And I hate that it hurts that his car isn't yours, yeah

But that car isn't yours

No, his car isn't yours

Yeah

The bridge hit every part of Jenna's heart that screams your name, which absolutely every part of her entire being. After your break up, she just drive past your house just to see if you are awake, to see if your dining room light is on, or just to see you in your driveway waiting for her.

Now it's 2 AM, he just dropped me off

Asked if he could come in, I told him maybe not

Then he asked what he did, I said that nothing's wrong

It wasn't your car

The song ended in a sad beat with you thanking everybody on your team, the festival, and the audience that watched you. Sad to say, you ended your set with a broken heart. You were happy, of course, being able to perform on a big music festival with a lot of people that can support you and listen to your music. But Jenna wasn't there, you didn't see Jenna standing on her spot, rooted there like she was planted.

But that car isn't yours

No, his car isn't yours, mmm-mmm

Eh-yeah, mmm, yeah

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Chapter 3 is not still finished but here is a drabble for Find You Again. If you have any drabble ideas for Find You Again, just send it! Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it!

[saberlight1]

lost signals & tunes — coriolanus snow

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, angst, mentions of violence, injustice in the districts, possessive!snow, trauma, kinda mean!snow, talks of a breakup, arguments, standard ballad of songbirds and snakes warnings.

authors note: i’m back for round 3!!! i’m so happy that you all like this series so far as much as i do. here are the links to part 1 & 2, if you missed them. this one is sad and angsty, i’m sorry. the song y/n sings is by frank santra! anyways, i hope you enjoy this one! much love.

masterlist

Since your last real conversation with Coriolanus, he had been acting different. He was colder, and you didn’t know if you were simply going crazy, or if he just going out of his way to ignore you.

But regardless, you were hurt. When you tried to speak to him, he would say he had somewhere to be. And maybe he did, but you just wished he’d spend time with you.

You missed him, really.

Lucy Gray frowned as she watched you from across the room. You and the Covey were all getting ready backstage at the Hob where you were set to perform shortly. Even if you were cousins, you and Lucy Gray were brought up as sisters and knew the other probably better than you knew yourselves.

She watched you as you were deep in thought, and she knew something was troubling you. She walked over, and with a click of her tongue she gained your attention.

With a raise of her eyebrows you already knew what she was thinking. “Lucy Gray, please. Not right now,”

She raised her hands up in surrender, sitting down next to you on the couch. “I was just gonna ask what was wrong,”

“I’m sorry,” You sighed, rubbing your temple. “I’m stressed out,”

“Talk to me,” She softly smiled, her hand coming up to comfortably rub your shoulder.

“Coriolanus has just been acting weird, and I don’t know why. I think.. I think when we were at the lake I said something that he didn’t like, or something.” You vented. “Just ever since we got back, he’s been off. Or maybe I’m just delusional.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at yourself. “Christ, Gray, I’m loosin’ it.”

She giggled. “You got a bad case of the love blues, it sounds to me, Y/N.” She repeated the same thing your mothers used to say all the time when talking about past relationships.

A small smile blessed your features. “I think you may be on to somethin’.” You sighed, again. “I just wish he’d at least talk to me, y’know? Let me know whatever I’ve done, so I can fix it, or if he wants to break up just fuckin’ tell me. I hate when shit just lingers.”

“I know.” She shook her head. “Listen, if he doesn’t realize how damn good he’s got it, then he ain’t worth it. You know better. And I know you two got history and what not, but if he stressin’ you out so bad you can’t even enjoy a performance, I’d say ya need to talk to the boy.” She explained, shrugging. “Or leave his ass. You deserve better,”

You chuckled. “Only you, Lucy Gray, could manage to make me laugh while talking about my relationship problems.” You shook your head, playfully.

A smile came back to her face. “You know it, now, c’mon we got a show to play.” She stood up, holding her hand out for you to take.

She brought you over to the rest of the Covey, Issac immediately bringing you into a side hug.

“Aye, sis, you want me to kick that boy’s ass?” He asked, smiling goofy.

You laughed. “No, please.”

“Alright, alright.“ He shook his head. “Let’s go, folks!”

Once you all were out on stage, all of the struggles and worries wrestling around your mind faded, and a smile brightly displayed on your face as you sang along with your family. You didn’t even realize how fast it was going by because you were enjoying yourself.

Until you saw his smirk in that crowd.

You were scanning the crowd as normal, loving to see all of different people coming to together to enjoy music when you saw him. He was in the back of the room, alone, his arms crossed over his chest as he smirked at you.

His gaze almost made you feel uneasy, his sharp eyes boring into yours. Lucy Gray wrapped up one of her songs, turning on her heel and winking at you, her signal to let you know it was your turn on the mic.

You sighed before standing up, grabbing your guitar and walking up to the mic.

“Hey, twelve,” You smiled, looking at the crowd. “How y’all doin’ tonight, huh?” They all cheered in return, making your smile grow bigger. “That’s what I like to hear! Alright, here’s the song.”

Over and over, I keep goin’ over the world we knew.

You began, singing deeply and sharply into the mic, staring into Coriolanus’ eyes.

Once when you walked beside me,

That inconceivable, that unbelievable world we knew,

When we two were in love.

Your eyes burned into his as the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only you and him as you sang to him. He knew it was about him, most of your songs were.

And every bright neon sign turned into stars,

And the sun and the moon seemed to be ours.

Each road that we took turned into gold,

But the dream was too much for you to hold.

Your voice boomed across the pub, the couples holding each other and the singles downing their shots in misery. You touched all their hearts with the song, somehow. His eyebrows furrowed as he truly listened to the lyrics, seeing how you wrote about your love and pain, and he wondered if it was still about him.

I mean, he hadn’t hurt you, right? He didn’t think him ignoring you for a week or two would push you this far.

Now, over and over I keep goin’ over the world we knew.

Days when you used to love me.

Issac and Cece took over for the music break, as you turned to blink away the tears that threatened to spill.

And every bright neon sign turned into stars,

And the sun and the moon seemed to be ours.

Each road that we took, it turned into the gold,

But the dream was too much for you to hold.

The tears only got closer to dropping from your eyes as you kept singing, just trying to get through the song. You tried focusing on the beautiful music the Covey produced behind you and put your all into your singing.

Now, over and over I keep goin’ over the world we knew.

Days when you used to love me,

Over and over I keep goin’ over that world we knew.

You finished with one last strum of your guitar, and the melodies of Lucy Gray and Maudie Ivory next to you. The crowd erupted in cheers and claps.

“Thank you!” You smiled as the rest of your family joined you, bowing. After saying your goodbyes, you stalked off stage as fast as you could, ignoring the concerned gaze from Coriolanus.

“Your singing was beautiful, I love that song.” Lucy Gray said as she walked beside you. “But I do want to give that boy a stern talkin’ to for makin’ you feel that way.”

You grabbed her wrist. “No, Lucy. Let me talk to him.” She looked at you with raised brows, the pair of you exchanging words with your eyes. Eventually she nodded, stepping forward and letting you walk.

You walked through the corridor that led back out to the dance floor, your eyes looking for that familiar face. But it seemed to be that he found you before you could find him, the man already walking towards you.

You crossed your arms, turning on your heel to walk deeper into the corridor so no one would be around. You knew he’d follow, so you leaned against the wall, popping the gum in your mouth.

“There you are,” He called as he turned the corner, seeing you standing there. He walked over to stand in front of you. “Y/N, that song—”

“Cut the shit,” You cut him off. “What’s been goin’ on with you, Coriolanus?”

His eyebrows furrowed at your forwardness. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you avoidin’ me. You been actin’ weird since the lake, Coryo.” You sighed, pushing yourself off the wall to get eye to eye with the man before you. “If this is about what I said about runnin’ away..”

He rubbed his temple, staying silent.

“Coriolanus, do you expect me to enjoy life here? Watchin’ people get hung every other day, scared for my own damn life? My families lives?” You threw your arms out, scoffing. “Why would I want to stay?”

“Because of me!” He cut off your rant with a whisper yell. “I wanted you to want to stay, with me. Or.. come with me to the Capitol.”

“You know how I feel about that.”

“I know. And I wish I could change that.” He stepped forward a bit. “Because I don’t want to be away from you, Y/N.”

Your eyes softened. “Coryo, I don’t want to be away from you either. Hell, I’ve been thinkin’ about you for weeks just because you didn’t talk to me,” You bitterly laughed at your own foolishness. “But, look, if this is gon’ cause a problem between us, then maybe we should just call it off here, ‘cause even if it’ll hurt like hell, if we don’t got trust in each other then we got dirt.” You shrugged, even though the words you spoke felt like a dagger to the heart.

“No.” He shook his head immediately, his hands reaching out to grip your hips, almost seeming to make sure you wouldn’t run. “I’m not letting you go, no. Definitely not over this.”

“Then what do you want from me?” You asked, your eyes flickering between his. “You iced me out for 2 weeks because of what I said, then when I give you a solution, you say no?”

“Because that solution is us not being together.” He said, firmly. “That is the last thing I want. This whole thing started because I’m afraid of being away from you, Y/N.” He finally admitted.

You sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me that? We could’ve worked this out together.”

His hands slid up your body to cradle your face. “I was afraid. I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean for this. I didn’t mean to hurt you,”

You looked down. “You scared me, you asshole. I thought you didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

He frowned, tapping softly on your cheek to get your attention back onto him. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, I always want to be with you. We will figure this out, I promise you that. I.. I’m just not good with talking about things with people, y’know…”

A soft smile spread over your face. “Yeah, I know. Just.. talk to me next time, okay? I hate when we don’t talk.” You said, walking into his arms.

He sighed happily at the contact, nuzzling his face his your hair to inhale your scent. “I will, my love.” He sighed, pulling back and licking his lips. “That song, though, it was beautiful. What is it called?”

You continued to smile. “You didn’t figure it out? It’s called ‘The World We Knew’ and, before you even ask, yes, it’s about you.”

His smiled slowly faded. “I made you feel that way?”

You swallowed, your smile gone as well. “Coryo.. these past two weeks, I thought it was over between us. When I wrote that, I was trying to come to terms with it.”

“Well, now you know that we’ll forever be in that world we apparently knew.” He joked, making you giggle.

He leaned forward to place a loving kiss on your lips, causing you to moan against his lips. He pulled back at the noise, looking at you with a smirk. “I have just the idea to make it up to you,”

You laughed when you saw that glint in his eye, kissing him again. “Show me what you got, big boy.” 

[starkwlkr]

the look of love — lando norris

the am series masterlist

Lando walked into the pub with sunglasses on. It wasn’t his best ‘disguise’ but it somehow worked since he wasn’t being bothered by fans. It was also late at night when he decided that a trip to the pub was needed. He also decided that he wasn’t going to keep searching for ‘the one’ which is why he found himself in a pub. He never had a one night stand before, but after his breakup with his girlfriend, he needed a distraction.

He sat in a booth by himself, searching through the crowd. He was thankful that he had brought his sunglasses even if he was in doors. Other people probably thought he was some kind of conceited asshole.

His eyes landed on a girl slyly smoking by the hallway that led to the toilets. The pub had a strict rule: no smoking indoors.

Lando got up, excusing himself when he bumped into people until he finally faced the girl. He leaned against the wall beside her, not saying a word while she smiled her cigarette.

“Are you lost?” She asked, blowing out smoke from her mouth.

“Are you?” Lando smirked.

“Actually no. My friends run this place so no I am not lost.” She replied, slightly annoyed by his presence.

“Friends? How long have you’ve been coming here?” He questioned.

“Long enough for the folks to become my oldest friends.”

After a while, Lando noticed how she would brush her shoulder against his or get closer to him. He had ordered a drink for him, thinking that with at least a shot, he would make a move.

But that didn’t help. Then he thought he needed the perfect song to dance with her. The number one party anthem. When a song she was familiar with came on, she swayed her hips to the rhythm and mumbled the lyrics. He watched her dance even thought she was alone. She was definitely different from all the girls he had dated in the past. Even if she got weird looks from people, she continued on dancing.

In the middle of the song, Lando walked up to her, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her closer to him. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” He casually asked just to get a conversation started.

“You say that to every girl you meet?” She teased.

“Do you really think of me like that?”

“Love, you’re the only one wearing sunglasses in here.”

Many drinks later, Lando kept stumbling over his words while trying to talk to the pretty girl. He did achieve one thing though. He made her laugh and what a pretty laugh she had. But he wasn’t here to fall in love, he needed a distraction and she was the perfect one.

You have to make a move on her, it’s going to be too late! His thoughts clouded his mind

He didn’t listen to himself that night. He could tell right away that it was some kind of love at first sight type of thing. And in that moment, he swore the universe hated him. As he leaned in to kiss her, she pulled away.

“I’m sort of seeing someone.” She said in a low voice. It wasn’t entirely true. She had only been on a few dates with the guy, but as of late, didn’t receive a call back.

Lando shrugged it off. “I don’t care.”

“I think that’s the alcohol talking.” She chuckled.

“Maybe, but I think I just really want to kiss you. I don’t care about some boyfriend.”

“You are an asshole.” She laughed then leaned in. A slow melody played in the background as their lips finally touched.

[builtbybrokenbells]

CAPITAL VICES | JACOB T. KISZKA

Jacob Thomas Kiszka: the eighth, undiscovered, most deadly sin of all.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 19k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving) mentions of oral (m!receiving), sir kink, dom/sub, praise, dirty talk, biting, nipple play, degradation, very brief mention/phrase of free use kink, overstimulation, spanking, name calling, ANGST, mentions of breakups/heartbreak, depression, anxiety, sadness, graphic description of grief/grieving, loss of a parent, mentions of cheating/toxic relationships, past trauma with relationships, mentions of abusive relationships/physical violence, mentions of dying/death, mentions of addiction/withdrawal/drugs, fluff, drinking, swearing, sorry if i miss any!!!

you guys didn’t really think I’d end it there, did you? ;) i did tell a little while lie and say wrath was the last chapter, but I didn’t technically say ‘the end’ 🤍 I apologize for leaving you hanging, and I hope this makes up for it! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!! (Very lightly edited)

Forget, move on, move forward.

That was the mantra you had been repeating to yourself for days. The sound was nearly sickening now, and the only reason you had not abandoned it was because it was stuck in your head. It was not helping, and it definitely was not working, but you were so deep in despair that you hoped it would eventually make the difference. You were desperate for any type of relief, for none of your usual coping mechanisms were working. The more the time passed, the more you were beginning to think that you would never recover from the loss of Jake Kiszka. You could not look at your piano, and you could not get out of bed for long enough to even think about readying yourself for the bar. All of your most comforting television shows had turned bleak, and the thought of playing music made you sick.

Well, all but one particular band, at least.

One sleepless night, you grew annoyed with your own relentless tossing and turning. After moving to the couch and turning your television on, you realized that not even the sound of Shameless, or more specifically, Frank Gallagher’s drunken babbling could pry a laugh from you. You switched to Brooklyn Nine-Nine, wondering if maybe a goofy comedy would settle the unbearable misery, but it only seemed to worsen your sadness. With one last shred of hope, you pulled out your phone that was lacking any messages like usual, and you opened your Spotify account.

You took a deep breath as you typed the three words into the search bar, and you felt like you were punched in the stomach when the picture of Jake and his three brothers graced your screen.

Of course, you would notice Jake first. He always came first.

You listened to Jake’s music for the first time that night, and instead of sharing the memory with him, you had to digest the intimacy you had previously denied yourself whilst trying to forget him. You promised that it would only be one time, and that if you only listened to one song, it would curb the need you held for him in your heart.

But, as you learned before in the hardest way imaginable, promising and following through are two completely different things, and it did not stop at a single song. By the time the sun rose in the sky, you were a mess of tears as you finished up the last few songs on their discography. Instead of turning your phone off and moving on, you put it on loop and leaned your head against the arm of the couch. One particular song caught your attention as it began playing, and it drew you in even further as the melodic guitar solo began. By minute three, your eyes were heavy, and not long after that, you were sound asleep.

When you woke in the morning from the best sleep you had in weeks, you were still hearing the soft sounds of Jake’s guitar. You swore you would turn it off and move on, but as you stretched and stood from your position on the couch, you let the melodies carry you through morning coffee and a long, overdue shower. Since then, it always seemed to be playing in the background while you tried to survive life without him.

A few days after the final breakup, Scott had sent you a message inviting you out for lunch. He was curious about how the night went after the blowout at the restaurant, and you couldn’t blame him. He sacrificed his own pride to help you find happiness, and the more you thought about it, the more appealing friendship with him seemed. You needed something to break up the monotony of sadness, and you knew that calling your sister was the last thing you wanted to do. You loved her, and she had always been your best friend, but you could not recount the mistakes you had made to lead you here. It would kill you to relive all of the sweetness and eventually, all of the heartbreak.

So you agreed, but it was all but happily. You made plans for a Saturday afternoon, exactly one week after you had called it quits with Jake. You thought that maybe by the time it rolled around, you would be more excited at the prospect of leaving the house considering you’d spent seven whole days inside, wallowing in your own misery. When you woke up that morning, it felt like lead was weighing down your limbs and you cursed yourself for ever making the plans in the first place. You forced yourself through a shower, but had to sit down on the side of the tub for ten minutes to regain your strength before getting dressed. You picked a hoodie that you’d stolen from your dads closet a long time ago, hoping that it would help you feel closer to him. You had been missing him more than you had in a very long time. You squeezed into a pair of jeans, debating whether to change into sweatpants, but eventually convinced yourself to wear them anyway.

You returned to the bathroom to dust on some makeup, hoping to cover the deep eye-bags and pale skin. About halfway through, you realized that there was not enough makeup in the world to cover up your heartbreak. You put on some lipgloss and sprayed some perfume, finishing just in time to hear the doorbell. With a sigh of defeat, you abandoned your reflection to greet Scott. You trudged to the front door, unlocking the knob and swinging it open to reveal his smiling face. He was much more relaxed than he was the weekend prior, and his clothes were not nearly as fancy. Relief flooded you when you realized that this was, in fact, just a friendly meal.

“Good afternoon, Sunshine.” He chuckled, first noticing your solemn face. You had given him a brief rundown of the situation the night before through a poorly written text so he knew what he was walking into, but you feared that it did not even come close to the way you were truly feeling. In truth, you had been texting quite often, and you weren’t sure that any of it made sense. Still, he was smiling, happily radiating positivity in hopes of making you feel better.

“Not much that’s good about it.” You grumbled, grabbing your purse from the hook by the door. You double checked for your phone and keys before nodding your head in the direction of his car. Your pessimism was staggering, but it did not seem to phase him.

“There’s lots of good,” he tried, stepping out of the way to allow you outside. “You get to see me. That’s good, is it not?” He raised an eyebrow, watching as you locked your door.

“You give yourself too much credit.” He chuckled at your grumpy expression, brushing off your insults like it was nothing.

“You look nice.” He said, placing a hand on your shoulder as you both made your way to the car.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a small smile. You knew you should not be so harsh with him; he only wanted to help, and you should be grateful for that. When you missed Jake so badly, it made it hard to think of anything other than the sound of your broken heart. “You, too.”

“You have any idea where we should go?” He asked, opening your door for you. You climbed inside, trying to ignore the turn of your stomach at the thought of food. When he got in next to you, he was still waiting for a response.

“Do you remember that little cafe we used to go to in high school?” You asked, suddenly recalling the little spot that you spent so much time together in all those years ago.

“With the two dollar sandwiches?” He asked, laughing at the idea.

“Yeah, and the best grilled cheese in the whole world.” You added, making sure he remembered that fact. “It’s a little bit of a drive, but I haven’t been there in forever.”

“I’m down,” he said, putting the car in reverse and pulling out on the road “I’ve got all day.” He looked down at the radio, reaching out and grabbing a cord. He tossed the aux in your direction and turned the speakers up a notch. “I haven’t been to that diner in a long time, either. We used to go there every day.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “you, me, Seth and Katie Haynes.” You tried to hide the sneer in your voice when you spoke the names.

“Fuck, yes! I forgot about her.” He shook his head in disbelief at his own memory.

“I sure didn’t.” You leaned back in the seat, clicking on the seat warmer in hopes of soothing your aching body. Laying in bed nonstop finally seemed to be taking a toll on you. “Maybe I should have clued in that Seth wasn’t the one when I caught them fucking in my bedroom at my own house.”

“Not to say I told you so, but…” you rolled your eyes, reaching over and giving him a light smack on the arm.

“You know, that’s like rule number one of what not to say when you’re trying to cheer someone up.”

“Oh, I know.” He laughed. “That wasn’t to make you feel better; I just like being right.” It was crazy how fast the two of you seemed to rekindle the friendship that was once so strong. It made you regret losing contact with him, and you thought that if you had been friends with him the whole time, life might have seemed a little less lonely.

“Some things never change.” You sighed, looking out the window as he drove. For a little while, the two of you sat in silence. You admired the city and how it continued on as normal despite you feeling like the world was ending. It was a terrible thing to know that the sun would continue to rise and fall even while you felt like you were dying. You turned on your phone, finding yourself sick of the sad music floating through the stereo. You looked through playlist after playlist, but could not seem to find one that sounded appealing to you. When you grew sick of scrolling your phone in search of a song to play, you gave up and hit shuffle on your recently listened songs, and the first note that played was equal to a punch straight to the stomach.

“Oh, who’s this?” He asked, intrigued at the old-timey sound of the guitar.

“Uh, it’s called ‘Built By Nations’.” You muttered, trying to tune out the guitar and focus on Josh’s voice.

“Who’s it by?” He asked again, his original question being left unanswered.

“My ex and his brothers.” You confessed, You cheeks searing with heat.

“A musician in Nashville, y/n? Come on.” He implored you to think your decision out again.

“I know, I know.” You sighed. “Definitely wasn’t my smartest decision, but I’m suffering now, am I not?”

“Fair enough.” He laughed, taking the cutoff to the road that housed your old High School.

You were hit with a whirlwind of memories as he slowed down, likely feeling the same as you were in that moment. You strained to look out at the football field, and laughed to yourself as you saw the old sign that displayed the name. It was falling apart with some of the letters missing, but it was familiar, and it was comforting. You didn’t hate high school, but you did hate the life events that happened while attending. It seemed to sour the whole experience, but as you thought back on it, you knew it was not nearly as bad as you made it out to be.

“If you could go back for a day, would you?” He asked, looking over at you as the sight passed you by.

“I think so.” You nodded. “Would you?”

“Oh, for sure.” He chuckled, no doubt in his mind about it. With that, he turned down another side road, and within seconds, you were in front of the diner that was a staple of your childhood. He pulled into the half-full lot, and not long after that, the two of you were walking inside. Immediately, you were drawn to the corner booth in which you’d spent so many hours in. It was empty, just like it was meant for you two to sit there. You took to one side, and he slid in the other. You placed your phone in your purse and threw it down beside you, looking around the small area and reminiscing on the memories made in that very spot.

“Let me guess, bacon cheeseburger and not one, but two cokes to go with it. And one to go.” You grinned, looking over at his face as he laughed at your words.

“You know me so well, sunshine.” He admitted to it without argument; he got the same thing every day of senior year despite having a whole menu to choose from. “And you’ll get a grilled cheese with tomatoes on it, because you’re weird.”

“Tomatoes aren’t weird.” You scoffed. “You don’t think that ten months worth of ordering cheeseburgers is weird?”

“Yeah, whatever.” He waved you off. “So, tell me what happened.”

“Eager much?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve waited a whole week to hear how it went, I think I’ve been plenty patient about it.”

“Fine,” you sighed, giving a shrug. “We fought in the parking lot, and on the drive home, and at my house. We said some mean things, stuff that we can never take back no matter how hard we try, then it went back to normal for a little while.” Normal was a strange description when it was referring to angry sex in your kitchen, but it fit the bill for you and Jake. Sex was the most normal thing about your relationship aside from the sadness, and occasionally, a wordless ‘I love you’. “It was nice, but I think that once the situation settled and I had a moment to think about everything, it just… it didn’t seem right.”

“What didn’t seem right?” He asked, hoping you would be more specific.

“All of it, you know? Like, we aren’t even dating and we’ve been hurting each other’s feelings and fighting. I can only imagine what it would be like if we were together.” He gave a small laugh, shaking his head slightly as you spoke. “What? What’s funny?”

“You, sunshine. You’ve always been so stubborn.” You opened your mouth to argue back, but he held up his hand as if to say he wasn’t finished. With a huff, you held back your words. “You guys are fighting because you’re feelings are hurt, whatever, it happens and it’s no big deal. Why are your feelings hurt, y/n?”

“Because he said the only thing I was good for was sex, and then he was all sweet and nice once we made up, but invited another girl on a date? How can you make up with someone and say that you care about them, then kiss another girl like it’s nothing?”

“Just the same as how you can take another guy on a date while you’re in love with him.” He shrugged, knowing he had you in a stalemate.

“I’m not in love with him!” Your voice was shrill, reacting as if the word was poison being forced down your throat. You were lying through your teeth, and even you knew how untruthful your words were.

“Oh, cut the shit, sunshine.” He rolled his eyes, pausing for a moment as the waitress approached you. He gave her a warm smile and ordered for both of you, and within minutes, she was on her way. “You’ve been moping around your house for a week because you broke up with your sort of boyfriend that you’re absolutely not in love with?” When he said it in such a way, you could clearly see how stupid you sounded. With a sigh of defeat, you gave in to the urge to speak the truth.

“Okay, fine, I love him.” Even as you said it, your whole body felt as if it was trying to reject the confession. You shuddered at the word and your palms broke out into a sweat. You ran them across the fabric of your jeans as you tried to calm yourself down. “I do, but I don’t want to, and it scares the shit out of me.”

“Why does it scare you?” He asked, taking a drink from one of the cokes the waitress dropped off. You sipped at the coffee she left behind for you.

“He’s the first person I’ve been with since I left Seth.” You confessed. “I mean, I’ve had one night stands, but never with anyone like him. It’s never been anything like this.”

“It’s never been with someone you’ve cared about.” He deducted.

“Yeah,” You nodded. “When I left Seth, I promised that I would never be with someone like that again. I never wanted anyone to have that type of power over me, and I didn’t want to get close to someone again just to realize that they’re a monster in disguise. It’s easier to be alone than to be alone while in a relationship, and I don’t ever want to suffer that way again.” You stirred some sugar into the mug, watching as the liquid formed a small whirlpool around the metal utensil. “When Jake and I first met, we were both on the same page, but somewhere along the way, the lines got blurred. I’m not innocent, either, and I know that. I was playing house with him and pretending like nothing was wrong, and then he started talking about wanting more, and it scared me so much that I ran. Well, no,” you chuckled “I backed him into a corner and forced him to run.”

“Why are you so scared of him, though? I mean, after this long, and after all of the shit you put each other through, you would be able to see that he’s bad, wouldn’t you?” He played with the paper wrapper that was previously encased around his straw, peeking up from his hands to catch your gaze.

“Maybe? I don’t know.” You sighed, your shoulders slumping with the weight of your emotions. “I’m not scared of him, per say. I’m scared of love, and I’m scared of getting hurt, and I’m scared of losing another person that I care about.”

“Is this about Seth, or is this about your dad?” He asked, voice as quiet as a mouse. He seemed afraid to ask, but more than that, he seemed afraid of your response.

You were stunned for a moment, and the flood of emotion that ran through you was more powerful than anything you’d ever felt. If it were anyone else sitting before you asking that dreaded question, you would have stood and screamed, thrown things from the table just to make a scene and show them how uncalled for the moment was. Instead, you gave a slow blink, but you did not do any of the things you wanted to. While you processed his words, you were plagued with a lifetimes worth of memories that involved the boy sitting across from you. Memories of him holding you while you screamed and cried in your childhood bedroom, clutching your fathers last worn t-shirt tightly to your chest. Memories of his hand in yours while you zombied your way through the funeral proceedings, and memories of him being the only person in the world who could pry a smile from your face while being plagued with such grief.

Even worse than that, there was memories of him sitting at the kitchen table with your father, talking about the football game that aired on television the night before. Ones where Scott would not just drive you to the hospital to visit your father while he succumbed to sickness, but where he walked into the morbid building and sat beside you, your sister and your mother while you tried to cheer your father up during his last days on earth. Scott was allowed to ask that question, not just because of how familiar he was with your grief, but because he grieved, too. Scott may have been a face that was forgotten along with the past, but he was not one that became insignificant. You fought tooth and nail to remove yourself from the life you lived so long ago, but a bond like such carried through until the end of time.

Your heartbreak from Jake may have done more damage than good, but there is always light that shines in the dark. Your breakup allowed for you to sit across the table at a fabled diner with your best friend for the first seventeen years of life. Your time away may have allowed you to forget how much of you he’d seen, but your heart could never forget the importance of his presence.

Instead of screaming, you nodded your head, telling him all you refused to say aloud. He was the only person who you would trust with such things, and despite your unwillingness to speak about it, you knew that he already knew the answer. Seth held little power over you anymore, and your fear of Jake turning out like him was ridiculous, but your dad? He was everything to you. He lived in every decision, every waking moment and thought that crossed your mind. He was a part of every heartbreak and triumph, and his advice rang in your ears every time you second-guessed yourself. The fear of disappointing him was true even after his death, and if anything, it only ever got worse.

More than that, his death crushed you. It left you lying on the floor, cursing every higher power and questioning the very universe that created you. It destroyed any hope and any sense of purpose, and it stole the happiness straight from your chest before it ever had the chance to bloom. You were familiar with loss, but despite it being an acquaintance, it was your own mortal enemy. You knew that it existed, and that it was always looming, but you lived your life in such a way that loss could not touch you. You never let people get too close, and you cut them off before they tried. You distanced yourself from everyone you loved most in hopes of sparing yourself the pain, and you could not even allow yourself to get a pet in anticipation of the crushing grief to come when it was their time to pass on.

The idea of loving Jake scared you so much that it shook you to the core, disrupting your entire life and forcing you to lock him out. The fear did not stem from your inability to love, or because you could not trust your own judgement of his character, but because you could not handle it if he were to suddenly get up and leave. You could not choke down the idea of loving someone enough to hurt after they were gone, and since your father died, no loss could ever come close to the pain you had felt from his death. Now, you knew that Jake leaving was the only pain in the world that could rival the one you had felt so many years ago, housed in your childhood home that held only a ghost of the man you loved most.

“Of course it is, Scott. It’s always about him.” Your throat was dry like you had just screamed out, and your eyes burned as if tears had ran them dry, but none of those things happened; the grief was so plentiful that it had bled you dry, and now it was the only thing to exist within your veins. “I can’t love him because I cannot imagine losing someone again. I can’t imagine how much it would hurt if he walked away, or if… yeah.”

“You don’t have to imagine it, sunshine.” He said, giving you a sympathetic smile. “You’re feeling it right now.”

“I know I am, but I keep trying to convince myself that hurting right now will save me from something worse later on.” You rubbed your face in your hands, wiping away non-existent tears. You felt like you were crying, and you knew you should be, but there seemed to be no tears left to cry.

“Or you’re holding yourself back from the best thing you’ve ever felt.” He offered the alternative, pausing the conversation while the waitress sat your food in front of you. He muttered a thank you, and once again, she was on her way. “Sure, leaving first ensures that he can’t leave you, but it also kills any possibility of happiness. What you’re doing right now limits you from a world of good; everything good comes with risk, y/n, and from what you’re telling me, he seems worth the risk.”

“He is. He’s worth it all.” You nodded, biting into a French fry. Despite your sorrow, you felt better than you had in days. “And I am worried about that pain, because I’m scared I can’t survive it again, but what I’m worried about most is that I’m too broken for him to handle. I don’t know how to love someone, Scott. It’s been five years since I’ve even let someone stay in my life for more than a weekend. Maybe I did all of those years ago, but not anymore. I’m angry, and I’m stubborn, and I’m more work than I’m worth. It’s not fair to him, and as much as I fear him breaking my heart, I’m even more afraid of breaking his.” You explained. “He’s been hurt, too. He deserves the world, and I’m not the person that can give it to him. He needs someone who has their shit together, and I’ve never once had all of my ducks in a row.”

“You can’t make that decision for him, y/n.” He said, taking a bite from his own meal. He let the words sit with you for a moment before speaking again. “I know you, and all you’ve ever wanted to do was protect people. It’s incredibly amicable, but sometimes you have to let them choose for themselves. To me, it sounds like he thinks you’re worth the risk, too.”

“I can’t do that to him.” You shook your head. “Sure, he’s choosing for himself, but I don’t think he knows what he’s getting into.”

“After this long, he knows, y/n, and he doesn’t care.” He assured you. “Listen, I know how guys think: if he was in this for any lesser purpose, he would have left a long time ago. If he did not care about you, he would not have shown up at the restaurant that night. That look in his eye was more than jealousy; it was the type of love that drives you insane. Don’t think you breaking up with him will get rid of that.”

“How do I stop being afraid?” You asked, in disbelief of the fact that he thought it was simple. “I’ve been afraid my whole life, it’s not just something I can turn off, even if I wish it was.”

“You never stop being afraid, sunshine. You just have to love each other enough that it doesn’t matter anymore.”

The meal went by without any further talks of Jake or your last heartbreaks. Instead, you filled the air with jokes and laughter, and gratitude for being in each others lives again. Although your relationship was rekindled for poor reasons, you were still thankful that you got the chance to be around him again. When the check came, you fulfilled your promise to repay him for the dinner cut short. When you climbed back into his car, you felt dread settle in your stomach. You weren’t ready to go home; you had been alone for days, and while that was something you normally loved, you’d now grown to hate it. You felt so happy to be with company that the idea of going home to an empty house sickened you. Worse yet, you did not know if you could go back and suffer through your relentless thoughts about Jake.

The drive home was filled with loud music, both of you singing along at the top of your lungs. You managed to convince him to stop at a coffee shop, claiming that you needed more caffeine to survive the day, but it was only to avoid the inevitable. When you made it back to the suburbs that you called home, your body felt heavy with the weight of your own loneliness. He pulled into your driveway, slowly rolling the car to a stop before he put it into park.

“Thank you, Scott.” You mumbled, looking down at your hands settled in your lap.

“No need for thanks,” he brushed you off “I hope I helped.”

“You did.” You nodded. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I definitely feel better.”

“You don’t need to know right now.” He assured you. “You can take all the time you need; it’s your life, sunshine.”

“You’re right.” You breathed, forcing a smile on to your face. “I’m sorry things ended up like this. It wasn’t my intent for you to be my own personal therapist.”

“It was meant to work out like this.” He shrugged. “I’m just happy I get to see you again. Watching your life through limited Facebook posts was sad. I missed my friend, and that’s the biggest reason I asked you out.”

“I missed you, too. I think I would really like it if we hung out more often.” You confessed. “I’ve been far too isolated. I’m too young to be so afraid of being alive.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, leaning across the seats to give you a hug. You rested in his arms for a moment, soaking up all of the physical contact you could before having to retreat inside. “I’ll see you soon?” He asked, pulling back just enough to catch sight of your face.

“Of course. Thank you again.” You gave him one last smile before making your departure, feeling your stomach sink more with every step you took towards the front door.

You had no idea what to do, and a part of you felt like you should call Jake and at least apologize for all that happened. Still, there was a bigger, more stubborn part of you that still believed he was better off without you. Once you locked the door and you were safely inside, you heard Scott pull out of your driveway and begin his journey home. You kicked off your shoes and threw your purse down on your kitchen counter. You reached into the pocket of your sweater, letting your fingers linger on your phone for a moment. You wanted to pull it out, to dial Jake’s number from memory and confess everything your heart felt for him. For a while, you sat in the kitchen, clutching your phone and unable to find the strength to go any further.

You loved him, but you loved him enough that you could not bear the thought of dragging him down with you. He was too good, and you were too much. The thought alone made tears pool in your eyes and your bottom lip begin to quiver. You wondered if your dad was looking down on you, proud of you for being the bigger person, or if he was disappointed in you for letting another good thing pass you by.

Then, the most painful thought of all struck you out of nowhere: he would never get the chance to meet Jake and grow to love him like you did.

You knew your father would be Jake’s biggest fan; his kind heart and his lax attitude was loveable no matter who he was using it on, and his love of music and talent on the guitar would win your dad over indefinitely. Jake was the type of guy your father had begged you to fall in love with, but he surely did not anticipate you being too broken to love him back.

Suddenly, the thoughts and the feelings got to be too much and you had to force yourself out of them. Instead of calling Jake, you shut off your phone. Instead of being the bigger person and confessing your love, you climbed into bed fully clothed and searched for the scent of him in your bedsheets. Instead of growing up and forgetting your fear, you closed your eyes and fell asleep while trying to remember what it felt like to have his arm wrapped around you.

When you woke, the sun was no longer shining through the window. Instead, the moonlight was plentiful and it casted a white glow over your bedroom, illuminating the sadness and the emptiness that now lived inside. You were groggy, barely within the plane of existence, but you tried your best to shake off the feeling. You were certain you heard a soft thud sound from the kitchen, but you chalked it up to you remaining amidst a dream despite being conscious, now. You tumbled from your bed, planting your feet firmly on the floor as you stretched out your arms and let out a yawn. When you stepped out of your room and into the bathroom to brush your teeth, you thought that you heard the sound again. You brushed it off, knowing that the likelihood of it being anything important was slim. The idea of someone knocking on your door was laughable, and you did not want to torture yourself by checking to see and being met with nothing.

You rinsed your mouth and wiped away the specs of mascara that had fallen underneath your eyes. You let out a sigh at your reflection, grabbing a a makeup wipe and ridding yourself of all the makeup. You washed your face and moved on to the kitchen, where you grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the fridge and began pouring yourself a glass. It had become a nightly routine, and you knew that with a few shots, you’d be back to sleep in no time.

As you dropped the ice into your glass you heard the noise again, but stronger this time. It caught your attention so fast that you could not doubt that it was real. You wondered if Scott had driven back to your side of town to check on you, or if maybe your mother had come over to see if you were alive. You had been ignoring her calls and messages, and although you knew you should answer, you could not bring yourself to do it. You took a sip of your drink before stepping towards the door, using it as a bit of courage to face another social interaction. Your fear of being alone no longer existed, and the longer you stayed holed up in your house, the more tempting isolation seemed.

You unlocked the deadbolt and the knob, wondering who would be here so late at night if not for a friend. Lately, friends were scarce and you had little idea who could be there. When you opened the door fully, getting a clear view of who was on the other side, you nearly fell to your knees. You were frozen, stuck staring at his face as you processed the fact he was really standing there, the corners of his lips upturned into a small, breathtaking smile. He seemed just as happy to see you, but he did not make a move to greet you first. Eventually, you mustered enough courage to speak.

“Hi,” you breathed, completely taken aback by the boy in front of you. After days of missing him, wondering if you would ever be lucky enough to see him again, you had a hard time believing that the man before you was real. In some strange way, it felt like he was a figment of your exhausted and worn down imagination. You feared that if you reached out and touched him, he would disappear before your very eyes. You did not want to be met with any more disappointment, because in the last week, that was all you felt. If he were to suddenly fade away, you thought that you might not be able to survive it. The sight of his face was the most comforting thing you had seen since he was last with you, and the knowledge that he was still thinking of you made you weak in the knees.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He said, giving you a soft smile. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, stepping out of the way to allow him inside. You tried not to think about the butterflies running rampant in your belly at the sound of the pet name. He stepped towards you, out of the warm night air and into the comfort of your home that he’d grown so used to. You watched his face, dazed at his beauty and wondering how you ever forced yourself to let him go. He had a bag slung over his shoulder and a look in his eyes that you could not place. You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen it before, but you liked it more than you cared to admit.

Then, before he spoke again, you had a sudden sense of dread wash over you; he was likely only there to retrieve his clothing he had left behind. The ache in your chest at the thought was unbearable, but you forced yourself to remain calm and allow him to do what he needed to do.

“You’re here to get your stuff?” You asked, trying to hide your feelings of frustration and sound as cheerful as possible. If only you could tell him how much you cared, maybe he wouldn’t clear out the only remaining memories of your relationship. You hated how much you had grown to like his life being intertwined with your own in such ways. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking over your face as he tried to place the emotion behind your eyes.

“No, angel.” He chuckled, dropping his bag down on the floor. You listened to the sound, realizing that if anything, it sounded quite full. A rush of relief ran through you, even if you knew you should have wanted him to clear out all of his belongings. It was for the best, even if you did not want him to leave again, especially for good.

“Oh,” you breathed, trying to compute what was happening. “So… why are you here?” You hated that it came out so harsh, and it was not at all what you were intending, but it did get your point across clearly. You were confused, you were still hurting, and more than anything, you wanted to know what his intent was.

He stepped closer to you, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Then, he reached up, letting the knuckle of his index finger softly caress your cheek. You let your eyes flutter closed at the feeling, the sensation intoxicating and when mixed with the scent of his cologne, deadly. He tucked your hair behind your ear as he noticed pieces falling from the messy bun sat atop your head. After that, his hand drifted towards your neck, settling gently on the back of it as he drew you closer to him.

You were too weak to fight him, and too tired to care. You missed his comfort more than anything, and you did not want to deny yourself the pleasure after you had suffered so much.

“You look tired, sweetheart.” He said, studying your face. He could see the dark circles forming, and the fire in your eyes he loved so much now seemed dim, nearly burnt out. Your head was upturned to meet his gaze, and he was looking down at you. In another universe, you would even go as far as to say that the two of you seemed to fit together with perfect harmony. “Have you been sleeping?”

“Not really.” You shook your head ever so slightly, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. You noticed the same tell-tale signs in his own features. “Have you?”

“No.” He said, still staring intently at your face. He missed it so much that he was trying to memorize every detail all over again. Unintentionally, you felt yourself leaning into him. His face was so close, and your eyes were begging to close as you pulled him in for a kiss. He felt it just as much, and he was hoping you would cross the invisible boundary you had drawn for yourself. You were in such close proximity that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, drawing you in further. The tip of your nose brushed against his, sending jolts of electricity through your whole body.

It was so good that you almost fell victim to him once again.

“Jake,” you breathed, pulling back from him and placing a soft hand on his chest so he would keep his distance. The separation was painful, but necessary. “We can’t do this. Friends don’t do this.” Tears pricked your eyes at the term of friendship, but you managed to blink them away before any slipped onto your cheeks.

“Right,” he sighed, nodding against you and accepting your words. Before you knew it, he had stepped out of reach and you were left wishing that you never spoke at all. You watched him move away from you, still questioning if you were dreaming or of conscious mind. For a second, you feared that he would walk towards the door and out of your life again. The grief at the thought alone was debilitating. Then, he bent down and unzipped the top of his track bag. You watched as he carefully pulled something from it, looking over the item for a moment before turning back to you. When he straightened up and made a move to face you again, you nearly fell to your knees. “That’s actually why I came here.” He said, clearing his throat to rid himself of the nervousness plaguing him.

He extended his hand towards you, watching you closely in fear of a volatile reaction. He had brought up the idea once before and you had confirmed your distaste for it, but he could not seem to help himself. He thought you deserved it. He thought that you were worth it. Your eyes were glued to the brown paper that was delicately wrapped around a bouquet of red roses. You were so stunned that you could not even manage to look up to meet his gaze.

How could he do that to you? How could he walk in like nothing happened with a bouquet of roses and a tongue as sharp as a knife? Sweetness dripped from his words and his actions, but you were in no state of mind to receive such treatment from him. His gestures were profound and you adored him for it, but it was not what you needed when you were dedicated to getting over him.

“Jake,” you warned, saying his name like it was the only hymn you knew how to sing. He appeared so ethereal, so beautiful and bright while he held the token of love, but you were not enough of a fool to believe that it could be true. His angelic smile and his breathtaking eyes were nowhere near anything holy, and you had learned the truth a long time ago. He was not good for you, and you were not good for him. You both knew it, but he did not want to accept it. By showing up and handing out grand gestures, he was only worsening the suffering.

“Stop it, y/n.” He said, giving you a stern look. “Take them, please. I spent so long picking them out that it would be a shame for them to go to waste.” Your heart sped at his words, realizing that the longer you looked, the less it seemed like the bouquet was a thoughtless, last minute purchase on his way over. The paper was arranged beautifully amidst the blood red petals and emerald stems and leaves. Tied around the stems was twine that was carefully cut and settled into a bow. You were not a background thought in his head; he had gone to an expensive florist and pondered over dozens of flowers to bring to you. He picked them with care and caution, wondering what would catch your eye the most.

He cared enough to spend the time and the money on you, but what was even worse than that was that he was the first person to ever give you a bouquet of flowers. How could you get over him when he’d been the first man in the world other than your father to care so much about you?

“Friends don’t give each other flowers.” You said, looking hesitantly towards his face.

“You’re right, y/n. Friends don’t give each other flowers.” He sighed, still holding his arm out to you. “I’m giving these to you because we’re not friends, and you and I both know that.”

“No, Jake.” You shook your head, crossing your arms across your stomach and hugging yourself to satiate the steadily growing anxiety. “I told you, we can’t do that. I’m not good for you. This isn’t good for us.” You shook your head, panicking at the idea of hurting each other again. He was too fantastic to be subject to the hurt the two of you were so good at causing.

“Would you quit that? Stop being so fucking stubborn.” He argued, getting visibly frustrated. “You don’t get to decide what’s good for me. You don’t get to choose if I want to be with you or not. Only I can, and I’m choosing you, y/n. I’m standing here in front of you, telling you that I am, and that I will choose you every day for the rest of my life. You don’t get to tell me that we can only be friends, and you don’t get to tell me that this won’t work. You can’t always call the shots. I get a say, too.”

“I’m not telling you what to do, I’m just saying that this is only going to hurt us! I’m trying to protect you, and I wish you could see that!” You exclaimed, trying to ward off the temptation to run into his arms. His words were devastatingly beautiful and everything you had ever longed to hear, but you could not be selfish and bring him down with you.

“Protect me from what?” He shot back, appalled at your inability to comprehend what he was saying. “You? Myself? Us?”

“Everything! I don’t know!” You were exasperated by his reaction, not able to understand how he could not see it the same way you did. Two people that hated love could not love each other peacefully. You had proven that with your jealousy and toxic games, and you cared about him far too much to involve him in such things. The sin the two of you had engaged in had left you both resembling the devil, and you feared that if you let it go any further, you would turn to ash in the barren, fiery wastelands of hell.

“I shouldn’t have left that night, y/n. I never should have let you go, but I didn’t want to push you, and I didn’t want to scare you away. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but I’m here now to tell you everything I need to say. I have to get it off my chest, because if I don’t, it’s going to haunt me for the rest of my life. If you still think that it’s for the best, then I’ll let you go, but not until I tell you everything.” You watched him, pain written so clearly on your face. You did not have the heart to turn him down, and you did not have the strength to keep up the act. You wanted him so badly that it was impossible to send him away, and his persistence was charming despite your hesitancy.

“Okay.” You nodded, choking on the word as it fell from your lips. You knew that whatever he had to say would turn your whole world upside down, but for some reason, you were okay with it. When in his company, even if he was causing peacefulness or devastation, it seemed right. You could comfortably watch him tear your house down one panel at a time, and you would have a smile on your face and love in your heart because you were there with him. You reached out, slowly wrapping your fingers around the bouquet. Your hand brushed against his as you did, the burning warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine. You had no idea how even the simplest of interactions with him always seemed so magnificent. “Thank you, Jake.” You looked down at the petals, tears shining in your eyes as you digested the sentiment that came along with the gift.

Now that you held them, it made the moment all the more real. Jake was a man who cared about you so deeply that it made you question if he was even real. You had never felt emotion so strongly, good or bad. He made everything a million times more powerful, and even something as small as buying you flowers seemed to knock the air from your lungs and make your knees weak. You had never felt so important to anyone in your entire life, and as good as it felt, you feared that if it ever came to an end, you would perish from the grief of the loss.

“You keep saying that you want to protect me, but there’s nothing you have to protect me from, y/n. I’m a grown man who understands what I’m getting myself into, and I’m telling you that I don’t care about the risks.” He watched you take a step towards the kitchen, following closely behind you as you moved to set the flowers on the counter. Once they were safely placed, you turned to look at him again, giving him all of your attention. “When I met you at the bar that night, I wasn't looking for anything but sex. We both know that, and I don’t feel a need to lie about it. When I sat down and I finally got you to talk to me, I knew right away that you were going to be more than sex. You can’t just meet someone so fantastic and pretend they’re ordinary, angel, and you are all but ordinary.” Your stomach twisted in knots at his words, but you bit down on your tongue and listened as he poured his heart out to you.

“You are the most beautiful, smart, witty, and charming woman I have ever met. You take my breath away every time I see you, and you make me feel things I’ve never felt before in my entire life. I could go on about how I feel about you forever, but it still wouldn’t even come close to how I feel in my heart. I don’t think there’s enough words in the dictionary to describe how much I care for you.” He was close to you, but not enough that you felt trapped. There was about a foot of space between you, and you would never say it, but you were desperate for him to come closer. Your eyes were focused on his face as he spoke. The emotion in his eyes was so profound that you could feel it as if it were your own. “I know I promised you that I wouldn’t fuck this up, and I’m sorry that things happened the way they did, but falling for you was the easiest thing I have ever done. I was yours before we ever left the bar that night, and as much as you don’t want me to be, I can’t apologize for something I don��t believe is wrong. I am sorry that I broke my promise, but I have never been sorry for caring about you.”

“I’ve spent the last three months trying to memorize every detail about you because I want to know everything you have to offer. I know that you hate breakfast, because it’s too intimate, and emotional intimacy scares the shit out of you. I know that you have the exact same routine before bed; you turn on your fan to the third setting, because the fourth is too loud and the second isn’t enough. Then, you climb into bed and you check your phone, but not for texts or social media likes. You check your schedule, just to make sure you’re not forgetting about an appointment with a client, because your work means everything to you. Then, you get up again because you can remember if you locked the door or not, and you make sure the oven is off for the fifth time while you’re out there. When you get back into bed, you toss and turn for twenty minutes until you eventually end up on your stomach, because that is the only way you can fall asleep.” As he told you the most miniscule details about yourself, your ego shattered and the shards of what once was so strong seemed to stab you with every breath. Nobody had ever cared to know you so well, and he was recounting it like he’d dedicated his whole life to studying it.

“Your sister is your whole life, and you mark off the days on your calendar just so you can count down the hours until she comes home to visit. You only ever sit on the left side of the couch, and you have about a dozen half-empty water bottles beside your bed because you forget about your open one and grab a new one every night. When you laugh, you cover your mouth with your hands and you try to keep it to yourself. I don’t know why, because it’s the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. You play with your hair when you’re nervous, and you blush when you lie.” As he spoke, your hand darted away from the ends of your hair as if it had just burned you.

“Stop, Jake.” You whispered, feeling sick at the sheer amount of knowledge he had about you.

“No, y/n.” He shook his head. “I’ll never stop talking about you, because knowing you so well is the best feeling in the whole world, especially because I know I’m the only one who does. I could talk about you for hours, because I think everyone should know how fantastic you are. I know all of this stuff, and I still want more. You can call me selfish, but I don’t care. I want to spend my life getting to know you, and I will be eighty years old and still wanting to learn something new about you.” He explained, hoping you were understanding what he meant. “Friends don’t know each other like this, sweetheart, and it would be a fucking shame if we tried to be strangers again after everything we’ve been through. Knowing you any less than I do right now seems like torture, and I don’t ever want to do that.”

“I’m not scared of you, and I’m not scared of this. I’ve spent every day since I first met you falling for you, and now, it’s the most comfortable feeling I’ve ever felt. You don’t get to tell me that I’d be happier without you, or as friends, or with someone else, because it’s just not true. You are what I want, and I know you have to feel it, too. I’ve never felt this way before, and I know we’ve both been hurt, and I know that you’re scared, but you can’t tell me that this isn’t good for us. We haven’t even tried, angel. If you let me, I can show you that love is not as scary as it seems, because we’ve already been doing it.”

“Jake,” you let out a shaky breath, your eyes shining with tears as you tried to process all he was saying. His name seemed like the only thought your brain could formulate.

“Baby, you are everything to me. I’m here, and I want to stay if you’ll let me. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to hurt you like everyone else has. I know that I already have, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it right, but I promise that I will never do that to you again.” He took a small step towards you, gauging your comfort before he jumped straight into it. “I know that you don’t like this part, but I would be an idiot if I didn’t ask you to try. I want to be what you deserve, and I want to be with you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything my whole life.” He reached out, lifting your chin up with his index finger to look in your eyes. “All I’m asking for is one chance. One shot to prove that I’m telling the truth. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left you here, and I don’t think I ever will.”

He cared, and he cared so much that he was willing to get his heart broken all over again for the chance to have you. He did not want to promise you love and then leave, nor did he want to pretend to be all you needed just to take it away. He wanted you, and loving you was all he ever wanted to do. Jake had never been the enemy; you only had yourself to blame, ruining your chances at happiness before the opportunity ever arose. You were hurt, guarded and protective over your own frail heart, but he did not want to shatter it like you previously thought. He wanted to help strengthen it again, to show you that your heart would be safe as long as it was offered to the right people. He wanted to love you like you always should have been, and Scott was right that night at the restaurant; what the two of you had was a type of love that you should never let go of. He was the most selfless, caring and kind man you had ever met, and if you let him leave once more, you knew you would lose him forever.

“Okay.” You breathed, nodding your head as your heart drummed rapidly against your chest. You were terrified, but being in his company made the fear obsolete. The look in his eyes aided you in believing that you would be more than okay, and that he would be better than anyone who came before. You felt like you were being crushed underneath the weight of your own longing for him. “I’ll try for you, Jake.” There was no doubt in your mind that you would try until your body began to deteriorate and your mind went numb. You would try for him until you could no longer do it and death was the only other option. You would do anything to experience love at his hand again, because it was the most beautiful thing you had ever experienced.

“Yeah?” He asked with a little laugh stuck in his throat that screamed disbelief.

“Yes,” you nodded, praying that he would bridge the gap. Before you could ask him to come closer, his hands shot out and grabbed your face between them, still gentle with you as if he was scared to break you. He stepped forward, and within seconds, his lips were locked on your own and your arms were around him again. The taste of him was addicting, more than any other drug in the world. The feeling of his skin on your was intoxicating, and his hands felt like heaven when they touched you with such care. You were helplessly in love with him, and no amount of time or distance could change it. He was everything you needed, all of the time, and you were an idiot to try and push him away.

When he parted, you were both breathless and smiling. He was still close enough to your face that you could feel his warmth, and you hoped that he never had to pull back. You wanted to live in the bliss forever, and with him until the end of time.

“I want to try, Jake. I’m so scared, but I want to try as long as it’s with you.” The quiver in your voice was louder than anything else in the room, and he drank up the vulnerability as if he was dying from thirst. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to get hurt, but you were right; we can’t let go of this without giving it our best. I’ve been so terrified of losing you that it’s made me blind to how much I care, and I don’t ever want to feel how I felt this week ever again.” All he could do was smile; there was no words to describe the relief he felt.

“I knew you were something more, too. You came in here and suddenly my house felt empty without you. I hate love and relationships, but you make me hate the idea a lot less. I want to try, and I want us to try together, but I want it to work. I don’t want to give up when things get hard, and I don’t want to fight or make each other suffer. I want to be with you, and I want to do it right, this time.” You confessed, all of the words pouring from you with no signs of stopping. “I’m scared to fall in love with you because I was scared of losing you, but I’m doing it anyway by forcing you to stay away. You’re worth the risk, Jake. You always have been, and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t say it sooner.”

“You’re saying it now.” He breathed, almost unable to believe that the words were genuine. When he showed up at your doorstep, he expected to be met with rejection. Instead, you were telling him everything he craved to hear from you. It was almost too good for him to believe that it was true. “That’s what matters, angel.” He placed another kiss to your lips, lingering there for a moment to soak up all of the intimacy he could. “I want that, too. I’ve done it wrong so many times, but I want to do it right this time. I want to do it right with you.”

“I missed you so much.” You admitted, reaching up and cupping his cheek in your hand. You let your thumb drift over the soft skin, wondering how you ever survived without him around.

“You don’t have to miss me anymore. I’m here, and I want to stay.” You closed your eyes, fighting back tears at the sound of his words. He was here, he wanted to stay, and he wanted to love you. You were so lucky to have him, and you were so stupid to think that you could let him go. One of his hands dropped to your hip, his fingers gently grasping at you as he attempted to pull you closer. “I’m going to say it.”

“Say what?” You giggled, peeking at him through tired eyes. You were exhausted, finally comfortable after days of suffering and sleepless nights, but you weren’t willing to end the moment yet. You would never sleep again if it meant you could always be with him, just like you were in that moment.

“I love you, sweetheart.” A wave of emotion washed over you, stopping your heart and filling your lungs. You watched his face, seeing in his eyes that he’d never meant anything more in his life. It was a word you’d banished so long ago, and it was something that you were certain you could live without. Now that he was in front of you, saying it in the same sweet tone he always used, you could not imagine a life without hearing it every day. You had no idea why you were so afraid of it, or why you were so afraid of him. He was the whole world, and you knew that from the very beginning. His devilish charm and intoxicating attitude made it impossible not to love him, and you knew that any woman would jump at the chance to have him. You were the luckiest person to ever live, and you could not picture loving anybody else the way you loved him.

“I love you, Jake.” You whispered, softly and slowly, making sure he heard every syllable. He had been waiting so long to hear it that you could not deny him of it for one more second.

He barely had time to smile before his lips were back on yours, hungrier than the last. You slipped your hand to the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in the locks of his hair. It was different than any other kiss you shared before; it tasted like freedom and it was laced with the notion of letting go. For the first time since you met him, you felt like you could show all of yourself to him. There were no barriers, no doubt nor hesitations. It was just the two of you, enjoying loving each other without fear getting in the way. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever felt, and you never wanted to feel any other way.

Loving Jake was the best thing you had ever experienced, even with the turmoil that you had been through. The pain and the losses were just as important as the good moments and the happiness, because it all led you to where you sat in that moment. The hurt was worth it as long as it meant you could love him, and you would suffer through it all over again just to be able to be loved by him. As his hand slipped under your shirt, settling on the warm skin underneath, you knew that you would never be happier with someone else. He was what you wanted, and any doubt about it was obsolete now.

You could not hold back the moan that slipped into his mouth at the feeling of his hand on you again. The rough, calloused fingertips from his guitar playing felt like heaven against the smooth skin on your body. Now, with the proclamation of love still lingering in the air, every movement and touch was amplified by a million. Your body was on fire, and he barely even touched you. You weren’t sure if it was solely accredited to the vulnerability the two of you shared, or if it was because you’d spent so many days longing to be touched by him. No matter which it was, it did not matter. All that mattered was that he was there, and things were okay.

“Say it again, angel.” He muttered against your lips, still trying to catch his breath.

“I love you,” you breathed, pressing your lips back to his before the words could fully pass through your mouth. His grip on you tightened, ecstatic to hear the sound. “I love you so much.” You said again, unable to hold it back any longer. You wanted to scream your love for him from the highest rooftops, telling the whole world how much he meant to you, but you feared that it still would not be enough. His lips trailed from your lips down to your neck, settling on the sweet spot just below your ear. You let out a breathy moan at the feeling of his tongue on your skin, your hands tightening on him as a silent show of enjoyment.

“We’re gonna have to do this differently now, beautiful.” His voice vibrated against you, making your eyes flutter closed at the light tickle that quickly spread.

“What do you mean?” You asked, still lost in the blissful nature of his touch.

“I can’t fuck you like a whore, anymore.” He said, snaking his hand up your shirt and landing it over your breast clothed only by the thin material of your bra. His thumb found your nipple through the fabric, feeling it harden under his touch. “I have to fuck you like I love you.”

“Can’t you fuck me like a whore anyway?” You challenged, not willing to give up the sex life you had already built with him. He chuckled at the disappointment in your tone, glancing up at you to catch your gaze.

“You like it better that way?” He raised an eyebrow. Your cheeks heated with a blush at the look in his eyes.

“Y-yes, sir.” You nodded.

“I tell you I love you and you behave yourself… maybe I should have said it a long time ago.” He related the two, smiling to himself as he thought about it. “How about I do both? Does that sound good to you, angel?”

“Sure, yeah.” You felt your lips upturn into a smile, happy with anything he was willing to give you.

“Glad we could come to that agreement.” He chuckled, giving your breast a gentle squeeze as he finished speaking. “Now, get in the bedroom and take your fucking clothes off. I’ve got time to make up for, and I don’t feel like waiting any longer.”

“Yes, sir.” You repeated your earlier statement, trying to ignore the ache that began between your legs. He dropped his hand from you, giving you a gentle nudge towards the bedroom. You followed his guidance, letting out a small yelp as his hand collided with your ass as you turned away. You shot him a look over your shoulder as you continued walking away, but he only responded with a wink.

You made quick progress with taking your clothes off, unashamed of your own excitement. You kicked them off to the side, peering out into the kitchen to see if he was following. When you didn’t see him or hear him walking to join you, you stepped towards the door, peeking just your head around it. You gazed out, finding your heart melt at the sight. He was peering through your cupboards, flowers in hand, in search of a vase to put them in. Eventually, he found a suitable holder for them, filling it with water and unwrapping the bouquet. He placed them inside, smiling at his own accomplishment, and turned towards your room.

He caught you staring, finding himself only slightly embarrassed at the thought. He gave you a smile as his cheeks tinged red. “What?” He asked, defending himself when there was no need to.

“Nothing,” you giggled, stepping out from the door frame so he could see you followed his instructions. He took in a sharp breath, surprised that you had been so obedient. Then, his eyes seemed to darken with lust as he got closer to you. “You’re just taking care of things out there like… oh, I don’t know, you love me or something?” He let out a scoff, rolling his eyes at your statement.

“Yeah, as if.” He teased, stepping towards you and scooping you into his arms with one swift motion. You let out a shriek of laughter, slinging your arms around his neck while you wrapped your legs around him. He found himself laughing at you, too. Your joy was infectious, and he wanted to soak up every minute of it. He pressed his lips to yours as he stepped towards the bed, breaking from the kiss for a moment to check over your shoulder and ensure there was nothing on the mattress. When he deduced that the coast was clear, he moved forward so his knees were touching the bed, then he dropped you down on the mattress without warning.

You let out a gasp of surprise as you landed with a thud, bouncing back up slightly from the impact. “What was that for?” Your lip formed into an unintentional pout, displeased with his actions, but he was too busy pulling his shirt over his head to notice.

“This is where the love part comes in.” He explained, chucking as he threw his shirt to the ground. “It’s not just about fucking you until you can’t walk; we get to have fun, too.”

“That wasn’t fun, I could’ve gotten hurt!” You exclaimed, but a smile was tugging at your lips. He unbuttoned his jeans, slipping out of them and kicking them to the side before looking back at you.

“Sweetheart, I would never do anything that would hurt you. You know that.” He scolded, playfulness still dancing in his eyes. He moved closer, climbing onto the bed and hovering atop of you for a moment. “Well, too bad, anyway.” He added, running his fingers over the lingering mark from his belt that was left from the weekend before. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize.” You assured him, the sting of the leather already long forgotten in your mind. “I deserved it.”

“You can be quite a brat,” he agreed, smiling down at you. The chain around his neck dangled in the air and his hair swooped down to frame his face. The sight of him was breathtaking, and you wished you could sear the picture in your mind forever.

“You bring out the worst in me.” You shrugged, distracted by the gleam of emotion in his eye. It was different than before, less animalistic and much more complex. It was love, and even though you did not recognize it yet, you would in the days to come, for it was dancing in your eyes, too.

“I don’t think that’s true, angel.” He argued, leaning down so his lips were hovering over your bare chest. He watched you take in a sharp breath, anticipating his next move with excitement. He placed a soft kiss to the top of your breastbone, slowly making his way downward with the same gentle nature. He brought one hand to your hardened nipple, letting the rough pad of his thumb drift across the sensitive nub. Your back arched upwards in reaction. The feeling was small, and the reaction was not because of the sensation, but rather because he was the one causing it.

He brought his mouth down to your breast, letting his tongue take over for his thumb. Your eyes fluttered closed as the familiar feeling of arousal blossomed in your belly. It was so easy for him to turn you into a mess, and sometimes you wondered if he knew the extent of the power he held over you. He suctioned his lips around the nipple, letting his tongue run over it a few times to let you enjoy the moment. Once you were comfortable and unsuspecting, he let his teeth sink into you ever so slightly. You jumped at the sensation, but he’d already moved on before you could voice a complaint.

He kissed a sloppy trail down to your navel, reveling in the noises that were falling from your lips. Eventually, he paused, looking back up at you through his lashes to soak in your needy expression. His mouth was hovering just over your heat, and the ache between your legs was growing harder to ignore. You needed him, and you did not know if you could wait any longer. “What’s wrong, beautiful?” He asked, the far away look in his eyes telling you how badly he needed to hear you tell him how much you wanted him.

“Need it so bad, Jake.” You squirmed underneath his gaze, finding it almost too powerful to hold. “It’s been so long.”

“You need me?” He purred, the corners of his lips upturned into a smirk. You watched as his eyes flickered from your face to your cunt, the temptation of seeing all of you too much to resist.

“I do, sir.” You pleaded, feeling the arousal begin to push you towards insanity. You could feel his breath on your skin, teasing you without even trying. His mouth was watering from the sight alone, but he wanted to savor the moment for as long as he could. “Please, baby.” You tried again, reaching down and caressing his cheek with your thumb. You thought that the sweetness might coerce him into giving in. The soft brown of his irises were gone, now, blackened with his lust-blown pupils. He wanted you just as bad, and the soft touch of your fingers was forcing him to remember how badly he missed you.

“Do you know how much I thought about this?” He asked, grabbing your hip with one of his hands. He pulled you down ever so slightly, his mouth practically touching you, now. “How badly I wanted to see you like this?”

“How bad, sir?” You played stupid; you knew how much he thought about you because you had thought about him just as much. You wanted to hear it, to know how desperate he was for you when he couldn’t have you.

“I thought about it every night,” he muttered, his eyes now focused on your cunt, clenching around nothing just from the memory of him being inside of you. “I thought about all of those slutty little noises, how pretty you looked with my cock in your mouth.” He listed, biting back a smirk as he noticed your cheeks redden at his words. “I was worried someone else was taking care of you and that pretty little cunt.” He continued, letting a trail of spit fall from his lips onto his fingers. “Did you get someone else to take care of you, sweetheart?”

“No, sir.” You let out a shaky breath, completely enthralled by his devilish charm. The filth he was speaking even seemed to draw you in. At that moment, Jake was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“No?” He asked, almost as if he didn’t believe you. “Couldn’t find anyone else who could do it right?” You let your head fall back on the mattress as you felt his fingers run through your folds. “Nobody else could fuck you like I can, right sweetheart?”

“No, Jake.” You agreed. “Nobody else could fuck me like you can.” He let out a hum of satisfaction at your words, letting his middle and index finger slip inside you as his thumb drifted over your aching clit.

“Why is that?” He questioned, beginning to move his fingers at a slow pace. You were too immersed in the feeling of pleasure he was giving you to notice he spoke again. “Why can nobody else make you feel this way, baby?”

“Because I’m yours, Jake.” You let the possessive claim slip without care. You were his, and you only ever wanted to be his. “Because I love you.” You said, adding on to the original comment.

“Cause you’re all mine, angel.” He agreed, smiling at the thought. He curled his fingers upwards ever so slightly, hitting the sensitive spot inside you he’d grown to know so well. You let out a soft moan, moving your hips down on his hand for more. You were so desperate that under any other circumstances, you would be shameful. Now, with Jake on top of you, you couldn't care less. He knew how badly you needed him whether you said it or not; there was no hiding from Jake, and you were okay with that. “And I love you, too.” A whimper fell from your lips at the sound of his voice saying such sweet words.

“Fuck,” you groaned, feeling your abdomen tense with pleasure. You were so close, and he’d barely even started.

“Already?” He asked, amazed at the thought.

“It’s been a while,” you huffed, still too lost in the euphoria to care. “It feels so fucking good, Jake.”

“Tell me how good it feels, baby. Wanna hear all about it.” He encouraged you as he leaned down, moving his thumb from your clit and replacing it with his tongue.

“Oh, god.” You tangled your hand in his hair, needing more than he could possibly give you. Your whole body was ablaze with sin, once again falling victim to his routine. You tried so hard to stay away, but the truth was, you didn’t want to stay away. He was too fantastic at everything he did, and his company was too pleasurable to deny. You were in lust by the first touch and in love by the first conversation. Jake was something otherworldly, and you knew that from the very beginning. His love outweighed every consequence that you could face in hell. The devil was between your legs, and you were too weak to resist him. He had made you a fool for his sin, but just now were you realizing the extent of the damage.

As his fingers curled inside you again, the prescision in which they moved was almost too much too soon. You bucked your hips upwards against him, feeling the pressure rapidly increase in your stomach. You were right on the edge, and he barely had to try. He hummed against you, showing his appreciation of your enjoyment. Your heart was pounding against your chest, trying to break free from your ribs as he continued his torment. He was evil, but you could not seem to care because the evil was within you, too.

“You taste so fucking good,” he said, pulling back for just a moment to catch his breath. His words resembled a growl more than anything, and his grip tightened on your hip as he pulled you down further towards him.

“It’s all for you, baby.” You sighed, still lost in the feeling of his fingers pumping into you. He withdrew a long breath, trying to keep himself calm at the thought. There was no better feeling in the world than having you all to himself, and he never wanted to take it for granted again. Knowing he nearly lost you was painful, and he would not allow himself to be foolish enough to let you slip through his fingers again.

He returned his mouth to you, suctioning his lips sound your clit and throwing you straight back into euphoria. You tensed at the feeling, your fingers tightening in his hair as his name fell from your lips. You were praying to him as if he was the god that would save you, but he was nothing holy nor was he any force that could liberate you. He was the evil coursing through your veins, forcing you into the sin and coercing you into believing that it was right. He was the only man in the world who could drive you to such pleasure, but having such power told you that he was the exact entity you thought he was the entire time. You loved him too much to walk away, but he was too wicked to survive. As he worked you up to an orgasm, he was sucking the life from you at the same time. He was the very thing that kept your heart beating, and the very thing that would eventually take it away.

You were too far gone to realize you were in the grave; the dirt seemed pillowy and soft, warm and inviting despite the frost nipping at your skin, begging to freeze you there for the rest of eternity. Falling in love with Jake was the most painful death sentence you had ever faced, but he had such a way with his heart that he made death itself seem enjoyable. You were slipping away, but dying at his hands was the most pleasurable experience of your entire life, like it had been the exact thing you were born to experience.

The blissful feeling was so intense that you could feel it pulsing under your skin and behind your eyes. Your stomach was in knots, begging you to let go, but you feared that you would not survive the downfall. His fingers and tongue worked in time with each other to keep you on the edge, nearly pushing you over with every move. You couldn’t contain the orgasm, and he knew how close you were. Seven days without him was torture, and you felt like you had been deprived of your life’s greatest joy. He could feel how close you were; he knew your body better than you knew it yourself. The shallow breathing and the constant trail of moans that were falling from your lips told him all he needed to know, and the clench of your cunt around him solidified the idea. He was desperate for it, and you could feel that in the prescision of his movements.

“Jake,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as your head dropped to the mattress. “M’gonna cum.” You warned. He gave your hip a gentle squeeze, but did not change up his movements. It was his way of giving you silent permission to do so. With a ragged breath and an insatiable burning in your chest, your legs began to tremble from the intensity of the pleasure. All of your muscles were tense and every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire. After seven days of suffering, all of the pain and suffering seemed to be disappearing from your body the longer he carried on.

His name fell from your lips, mixed with a slur of curses and moans. The obscenities painted the walls with your sin, dripping down and ensuring they would remain in the foundation of the home until the end of time. There was not a single thing in the room that was not tainted with the wicked energy the two of you were exuding. He held you to him, ensuring you could soak up every second of pleasure the climax had to offer. You felt like you were going mad; your mind was a mess with thoughts all pertaining to the boy nestled between your legs. You feared that the intensity would never pass, your limbs aching with the rigid nature of your muscles and your lungs desperate for air.

Eventually, when he began to taper off his movements, the sensation began to fade. You relaxed against the mattress, finally able to fill your lungs with oxygen. When he pulled away from you completely, you were too dazed to notice the loss of contact. Your eyes were closed, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch up with the breaths you were deprived of momentarily. Your legs continued to tremble with the ghost of your orgasm and your stomach was still twisted into knots of pleasure. He did not move from his position, but instead got on his knees rather than laying on his stomach. His eyes were heavy with lust, crazed by the state you were in. He thought there was no way he’d be able to forget the way you looked when you were fucked out and drunk off him. It was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

Before you even came back to reality, he was lining himself up with your entrance. He guided your legs around him with little help from you, bracing his arm on the bed just beside your head. “You’re not giving up on me yet, are you angel?” He rasped, even his voice husky with the desire he was feeling for you. You managed to crack your eyes open at the sound of his voice, the sound too beautiful to ignore.

“I’m okay,” you promised, now focused on the feeling of his cock resting against you. The idea of fucking him was enough to give you the energy to continue on. “I promise.” You said, reaching up to touch his face. The feeling caused his eyes to flutter closed and a smile to blossom on his lips.

“That’s my girl.” He crooned, savouring the sensation only for a second before he was pushing himself inside of you. As much as he wished to live in the moment forever, he could not wait any longer. You both let out a hiss of relief, already needing more than you could have. “You always feel so fucking good.” He groaned, beginning at a slow pace. As much as he teased you for being so close so soon, he felt just the same. Seven days for him felt like an eternity without you, and he never wanted to experience it again. His hips moved slowly, but powerfully. The angle he had your hips settled at allowed him to reach a depth that made your head spin.

“J-just want to make you feel good, sir.” You whined, the sensitivity making his movements feel all the more enjoyable. His eyes darkened further at your words, the obedience driving him crazy. He’d never heard you be so submissive, and he wasn’t shy about his new found love for it. Not once had he gotten you into bed and did not hear a single argument or snide comment, but despite his love for the obedience, he couldn’t help but miss the sharp tongue you so often could not keep a hold of. He loved you for all of you, even your naturally argumentative self and your tendency to talk back. He was in love with everything you had to offer, and he knew that he always would be.

To make the devil fall in love is a daunting task, but within a few weeks, you had made yourself an expert in doing so.

“Yeah? You like being a little whore for me?” He asked, adding a little more power behind his thrusts. His cock brushed against your cervix, causing you to wince at the painful type of pleasure that shot through you. “You like it when I use you for whatever I want?”

“God, yes.” You muttered, looking up to meet his eyes. The sexual tension between you was so strong that it was hard to think of anything else, but there was something deeper, now. Connection, understanding, and love. The two of you had overcome the only barrier that had ever held you back. Fear was obsolete, replaced with the desire to know and to care. It was freeing, and the world seemed full of endless possibilities, now. You could not believe you had let the anxieties hold you back from something so wonderful and so fulfilling.

Then again, you knew that beneath the elation of your realizations, Jake was the one behind it all. The fear would never have left had he not been the one who you fell for. The risk would not be worth it if it were someone else between your legs, staring down at you with such admiration. Love was not worth it unless he was the one on the recieving end, nor would it be worth it if someone else were trying to give it to you. You knew that all you feared would be kept safe, locked up in his heart for eternity the same as it was in your own. He would keep every secret, every promise, and every failure safe. He would protect it as if his life depended on it, because he did not want anyone else to know all that he knew about you. He did not want anyone else to have the chance to have you like he did, and he did not want you to think that he was not the person he made you believe he was.

Your trust was the most important to him, and your love came second to that. He wanted you to depend on him, to let him in when the days seemed dark and dreary. He wanted you to share every tear and pain that you felt in your body, and he wanted you to share every failure and mistake. He wanted the goodness, but he wanted all of the bad, too. He loved you not just for your triumphs and successes, but also for your darkest moments. He wanted to be the person you could pour your heart into, no matter if it was happiness or sadness. He wanted you in your entirety, and he would love you through every single moment of your life, and even long beyond that.

The two of you went in search of sex, something to fill the void that was steadily growing in your hearts. You wanted casual without commitment, because neither of you yearned to bear your souls to another. Your sadness, your heartbreaks and your hurt had turned you cold, and made it so you wanted to keep everyone locked out. Intimacy in the emotional aspect scared the both of you beyond comprehension, yet in your search to find something to satiate the isolation, you had found so much more. In each other, you discovered all that you feared yet all that you needed all in the same place. You were terrified of love, yet craved it so badly it made your chest ache and your head spin. You were full of mistrust, yet desperate to find someone you could share your life with without fear.

It was not your job to seek love, but it had always been your duty to break down all of the barriers that prohibited it from entering your lives. In the three months of knowing each other, you did not intend or purposely search for love within each other, but you did break down every wall and defense you had built up prior to meeting each other. Because of that, love flowed in easily and endlessly, and the two of you were able to do the very thing you swore you would never do again.

Within each other, you found home. You found a hiding place, somewhere to rest and put down the burden of life for a while. You found friendship, connection, and purpose. You found a way to conquer your biggest fears and push your own boundaries enough to allow another inside.

In Jake, you had found everything you ever needed.

In you, he found everything he ever dreamed of.

Somewhere in the universe, the divine had found a way to forgive you for the wrongdoing and allow you a moment of peace. But, evil does not rest even when it seems like it has. Beneath the surface, the wicked forces were still working overtime to turn you rotten to the core. You had engaged in so much sin that your entire life was encrypted with it. Satan himself would draw back in fear if he looked into your eyes, yet the two of you were so blissfully ignorant to the fact that you felt as though you had repented enough to free yourself from the darkness.

“Come here, angel.” He said, pulling out of you for a moment. There it was again; the heavenly connotation to a woman so evil her own skin turned red.

He collapsed on the bed beside you, reaching out and pulling you on top of him. You were so distraught with the loss of contact that you let out an audible whine, but you did not have to suffer for too long. He guided your legs on either side of him, helping you position yourself so you could continue fucking. You planted your hand firmly on his chest, holding yourself up as he lined himself up with your entrance. His hands landed on your hips, his warm touch searing your cool skin. Without warning, he pulled you down on him with a strength that made your head spin. You let out a moan, telling him how good it felt when he filled you up in such a way.

“That’s better, sweetheart.” He muttered, helping you move your hips to maintain a steady rhythm. Once you were able to keep up the pace yourself, he removed one hand from you and brought it to your clit. He let his finger begin slow circles, encouraging you silently as you rode both of you into an orgasm. “Does that feel good?”

“Feels so good, sir.” You panted, grinding your hips downwards onto him. His jaw was tense, his teeth clenched tightly as he focused on the way your body was moving on him. First, he admired your face. The twisted expression of pleasure was enough to send him into a climax, but he managed to hold himself back, wanting to enjoy you for just a little while longer. Your lips were parted slightly as obscenities fell from your tongue, dripping down onto him and drowning him in the sinful sounds. His gaze trailed down your neck, taking in every available inch of exposed skin. He studied the way the columns of your neck flowed down into your collarbones, and all the way down to your breasts which were bouncing with every movement of your body. He wanted you to be in the position solely so he could admire you without any obstruction of view.

His eyes trailed down your stomach, watching your muscles tense with the pleasure that you were feeling. He looked down at his hand anchored around your hip, his fingers digging into the skin with a promise to leave finger-shaped bruised by the morning. He could not deny the feeling of euphoria at the thought of your body being marked with memories of him for days to come. Eventually, his gaze landed on your cunt, where his hand was delicately coaxing an orgasm and your hips were jointed with his, the two of you intertwined in the most intimate and intoxicating way.

You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he could not hold the thought to himself. If he had to hide it, he thought he might die from the pressure of the notion pulsing against his skull.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” He said, the words almost caught in his throat as he tried to speak them. The emotion in the room was heavy, weighing both of you down and inevitably pushing you even closer together. “I love you, y/n.” The profound nature of his words made your head spin and your heart skip a beat. You looked down, catching his eyes and seeing the sincerity pooling in his gaze.

“I love you, Jake.” You whispered, your hips stuttered as you spoke. You felt locked in, like your eyes could not look away from him even if your life depended on it. “I love you so much.” You repeated, the words freeing and lifting tons of weight from your shoulders. You were so happy to finally be able to say it, and now you never wanted to stop. You wanted to tell every person you stumbled across how fantastic he was and how much he meant to you, but a smaller, more selfish part of you wanted to keep him to yourself forever. He was yours and only yours, and you were the only one in the world lucky enough to have him.

“Cum for me, angel.” He said, his voice low and dripping with desire. He gave you the permission not because he was planning on denying you the pleasure, but because he feared he might die if you did not. He needed you like the starving need food, and he could not keep up with the demands of his heart. He needed everything from you all at once, and he needed it so much that he could not even think about anything else.

With his permission, you felt another wave of euphoria wash over you. This time, it was so intense that it felt like your whole body locked in reaction to it. You managed his name through the cries of pleasure, but it was barely noticeable. The only reason he picked up on it was because he spent every waking minute waiting for you to speak his name.

“That’s it, baby.” He said, gently guiding your lower half down towards him, still circling his finger around your clit. “Being such a good girl for me.” He hummed, pulling you into a kiss as soon as you were close enough to do so. You rode out your high with your lips locked with his, letting every moan fall into his mouth. He drank up the sound, each one pushing him closer to his own climax. When you relaxed against him, he slowly removed his hand from your cunt, bringing both hands to your hips to hold you in place. You were exhausted, and he could clearly see that. He decided not to push you, instead keeping you close to him and pulling your bottom lip between his teeth while he allowed you to calm down.

When your chest returned to the steady rise-and-fall rhythm, he started his own pace again. He held your hips in place, continuing the kiss as he fucked into you, working himself back up to his own orgasm. The sensation was intense, almost overwhelming as you tried to bargain with your own sensitivity from both orgasms. His pace was bruising, like always, but it was still intoxicating. You felt your stomach burn with pleasure once again, unbelieving of how fast you could feel the pressure of another orgasm begin to build. You had to break away from the kiss to catch your breath, the feeling becoming too much to bear. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of him inside you and the way he filled you up so perfectly.

“Again?” He asked, a cocky smirk on his lips as he tried to play down his own pleasures.

“A-ah, fuck, shut up!” You hissed, stumbling over your own words. He let out a low chuckle at your response, unbothered by your harsh tone.

“S’okay, sweetheart. I know how good I make you feel.” He said, tone dripping with pride. His ego took up space in the room even when you were fucking, and you hated to admit that you loved it. He continued on his pace, now pulling you down on him with every move of his hips. It was painful, but it was addicting. You wanted more, but you feared your body would not be able to handle it. A particularly high-pitched moan let him know that you were already there once again. His head fell back on the mattress, absolutely amazed by how attracted he was to you and how badly he affected you. “That’s it,” he encouraged “look at you.” He whispered to himself, his eyes burning into your face. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”

The compliment sent you over the edge for the third time, the sweet words too much for you to handle. You clenched around him, pulling him in even further as you unravelled. Your hand moved upwards grasping at his shoulder, holding yourself upright as he continued fucking into you. The pleasure was so plentiful that it quickly became the only thing you could think of; nothing else mattered other than him and the way he made you feel.

Jake was not far behind you, his movements becoming sloppy and moans falling steadily from his own lips. You thought he was ridiculous for believing you were the best thing the world had to offer, especially considering he got to wake up and look at himself in the mirror every morning. Jake was the most beautiful thing to ever walk the earth, and he was the most precious gift you’d ever had the chance to receive. His grip on you tightened as he pulled you down on him, holding you to him as he spilled his release into you. He muttered your name amidst the chaos, almost like it was the only thing he knew how to speak.

Instead of pulling out, he rested inside of you for a moment, pulling your top half down closer so he could wrap his arms around you. You rested your cheek against his chest, closing your eyes in bliss as you soaked up the intimacy you had missed so much. His hand traced shapes into your back, the delicate touch sending shivers down your spine and causing goosebumps to scatter across your skin. You ran your fingers through his hair, twisted the ends of the locks between your fingers as you listened to the soft thud of his heartbeat against his chest.

Love was filling the room, and this time, you both allowed yourselves to feel it. You welcomed it with open arms, inviting it in with a smile. It was in every touch and every breath, living in every word and shared glance. In that moment, life could not have been better. He moved his head down, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. He let his lips linger there for a moment, closing his eyes as he thanked every higher power for allowing you to enter his life.

“I love you.” He muttered, the words coming out muffled due to his mouth still resting on your head. You smiled, the kind that made your cheeks hurt and your mind forget what it felt like to frown.

“I love you.” You said, placing a kiss to his chest.

“You want to get cleaned up?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you sighed, nodding against him. “Then we can go to bed.” His chest burned with excitement at the thought of falling asleep next to you again, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

Carefully, he withdrew from you and you both stood. He stayed close to you as you walked to the bathroom, fearful that if you got too far away, he’d lose you forever. You made quick work and cleaning yourselves off, both eager to get into bed and hold each other until you fell asleep. As you walked back to your bedroom, he stopped and grabbed his bag he left in the kitchen, bringing it back with him. You grabbed one of his shirts from your drawer and threw it over your head. He slipped his boxers back on and waited for you to get into bed before joining you.

When you were both under the covers, he wasted little time turning on his side and pulling you closer to him. He settled his arm around your waist as you pressed your back against his chest. “Thank you for coming back, Jake.” You whispered, sleepiness laced in your tone.

“Are you kidding me?” He scoffed, also speaking quietly. “I want going to let you get away that easily.” You giggled at his words, snuggling in even closer. He tightened his arm around you, pulling you further into him.

“Thank you for not giving up on me.” You said, more specific than the last time. He didn’t respond straight away, instead nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

“I will fight for you until my very last breath, sweetheart.” He said, simply and seriously. He meant every word, and he did not want you to believe otherwise. “I love you, beautiful.”

“I love you, Jake.” You smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes, sleep calling to you and quickly taking over. In your last conscious moment, you felt the warmth of his love surrounding you, but a familiar dread settled in your stomach. You loved him, and he loved you, but was it really going to be so easy? After struggling to give yourselves to each other, you had a hard time believing that the rest of your life could be so simple. More than that, you still feared the sins the two of you committed just to be together in that moment. Jake was the love of your life, and that was without a doubt. What did worry you was all of the other conclusions you had drawn about him, specifically in regards to his devilish nature.

Was a mortal man laying beside you, or had you invited Satan himself into your home until the end of time?

According to Wikipedia, ‘the seven deadly sins, also known as the capital vices or cardinal sins, is a grouping and classification of vices within Christian, particularly Catholic, teachings. According to the standard list, they are pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony and sloth, which are contrary to the seven heavenly virtues.’ The seven deadly sins you had committed with ease and little regret. You fell into the trap without even realizing it, and from there, you could not stop the rapid progression of your godless acts. You had sinned so much that you had forgotten what a virtue was, but more than that, the seven deadliest sins held no weight compared to the sin that only you had been indulging in.

The world did not know about the most sacrilegious of sins because he was in your bed with his arm draped around you, sleeping soundly. You were the only person in the world who knew the extent of his evil. He was more powerful than lust, and more intense than greed. He was greener than envy and he was more vicious than wrath. Jake Kiszka was the eighth, undiscovered, most deadly sin of all. He was all of the vices combined, and more so, the only force in the world that could be strong enough to make you commit all of them in one go. He was the embodiment of evil, thus leaving no other way to describe him; he was the devil, and instead of fearing him, you felt lucky to be in his presence.

You had sinned so much that somewhere along your wicked warpath, you’d sprouted devil horns of your own. His power did not scare you, because you held the same one within your heart. The only match for him was you, and the two of you were tied together with barbed wire and chains, now. When you moved too fast, the ache from the tension spread to your bones, but his kiss satiated the pain. Most of the time, his love was so good that you did not feel the restraints around you at all.

So seven became eight, and the sin had finally come to an end. Yours and Jake’s souls were intertwined infinitely, tainted with the blackness of evil and scorching with the heat of flames. You had reached your deadly end, and you had always feared that once the devil had made home, there was no escaping him. Now, the devil was for certain to stay, and you knew deep in your heart that no amount of repent would rid you from the damage you caused and the guilt that came with it. As you fell asleep wrapped up in him, you thanked god for bringing him back to you whilst knowing he was the very thing god was trying to strike down.

A fear settled deep in the pit of your stomach, wondering if soon, god would realize your mistakes and make his first attempt at striking you down, too.

TAGLIST: @sacredjake @profitofthedune @thewritingbeforesunrise @sacredthethreadgvf @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @freefallthoughts @jaketlove @clairesjointshurt @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @earthgrlsreasy @starshine-gvf @brujamagik @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire @twistedmelodies @gretavangroupie @alwaysonthemend @edgingthedarkness @gvfpal @sinarainbows @writingcold @starcatcher-jake @literal-dead-leaf @takenbythemadness @gretasfallingsky @hsfallingsky @freyjalw @itsafullmoon @lyndz2names @blacksoul-27 @i-love-gvf @vikingsisthenewsexy @mp0801 @mindastreamofcolours @indigogvf @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jordie-gvf @cassy-face @highway-tuna @creadliz98 @dancingcarbon @do-it-jakey-baby @lallisonl

[eoieopda]

lacuna (knj)

lacuna (n): a blank space, a missing part

In his twenty-eight years, Kim Namjoon had made countless mistakes. Most of them were insignificant and could be shoved easily enough into the back corner of his mind. The worst of them were all tied for first place, keeping him up at night.

Loving you, losing you, and now – picking up the phone. 

Pairing: Ex!Kim Namjoon x Fem!Reader Type: One-Shot (Angst, Smut - 18+ or else.) Word Count: Like, 7K (?!) Content: ex-boyfriend au; exes to something?; literally so much angst; yearning; pov switches; oral sex (f receiving); unprotected sex; p in v penetration; cursing; texts from Yoongi. A/N: For reasons unknown, I decided to break my own heart today! The lyrics you'll see below are from "Sooner" by The Low Blow. There's also a reference to one of my favorite tv shows at the end - did you catch it? (1/9/23) The sequel, Redamancy, is finally here! (3/17/23) There is now a playlist 🥲

Sitting cross-legged on the rug, your weary, unfocused eyes stared somewhere in the vicinity of Min Yoongi. Shrouded all in black, you nearly assumed he was your sleep paralysis demon, hunched over his keyboard with his eyes narrowed in thought – but you hadn’t slept much at all lately. Not with your deadline looming overhead like the sword of Damocles. 

He relayed what was already looping through your brain. “It’s missing something.” 

You scrubbed your hands over your face, too burnt out to care if your foundation stayed where it was supposed to. “I know,” was all you said, though it wasn’t all you were thinking. Listening to this demo – this crushing song about love lost – you knew what was missing.

Or rather, who. 

Once again reading your mind, Yoongi spoke with a wary sigh. This time, he said the quiet part out loud. “Listen, I know that on a personal level, this is a terrible idea. But if you really want this track to ache –” 

“I’ll call him.” 

Yoongi turned to look at you over his shoulder. He, like you, hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours; but his surprise still managed to crack through an otherwise impassive expression.

“You sure you want to be the one?” His frown was microscopic, but it was there and it bruised. “I have to hit him up, anyway, so I can handle this for you.” 

You’d never told him – or any of your friends, come to think of it – the details of your whatever it was with Namjoon. You couldn’t call it a breakup; that would necessitate a relationship. You couldn’t comfortably assign that word to this indescribable something.

But maybe that’s precisely why it hurt to breathe when you thought too hard about it. Maybe the thing that burned in your lungs was the fact that whatever it was wasn’t much of anything at all. 

The universally known narrative was that you met Kim Namjoon at a release party two years prior. After years of putting out extended plays, he was dropping his highly anticipated, full-length masterpiece.

That’s what your label called it; that’s what the press called it; but you couldn’t agree. That word wasn’t heavy enough – it didn’t give due credit to the pieces of himself he broke down and buried within those twelve tracks. You felt seen when you heard it. When you saw him, it was game over. 

As the story goes, you went home with him that night. While true, it was the tiniest fragment sitting sharp at the tip of an iceberg. The rest was an ill-equipped ship, sailing in slow-motion through the dark. 

He'd spent the entirety of his celebration focused on you. What you thought; what you wanted for yourself; what made that tipsy, uninhibited giggle come flying out of your chest. And then, holding his hand like it’d been tailor-made for yours, you followed his lead out of there while confused partygoers murmured in your wake. 

He fucked you like he knew you – on a cellular level – and he looked at you like you were all there was. You’d spent the entirety of the following day there, draped over him or nestled underneath him. You were never not touching in some way – in the little interludes of sleep; while cooking a breakfast too big for the two of you alone; on every surface of his apartment. 

He changed your life in those twenty-four hours, but not enough for it to stick. 

You’d spent as much time with him as you could in the year afterward, until your twin ambitions sent you both rocketing in other directions. Your various obligations never allowed you to be in the same place for long; and when they did, it was over too soon. No amount of time would ever feel like enough, but half a day, here and there, felt like a cosmic joke.

Like the universe was punishing you for wanting everything, all at once. 

Eventually, you came to a fork in the road. His career, though international, was rooted in Korea – home. Yours took you to Los Angeles, to a vastly different time zone, and a schedule that refused to make space. And you tried, but when it came down to choosing – idling together or racing forward alone – your respective dreams were so heavy that they tipped the scales.  

Neither of you could blame the other. After all, you’d both made the same decision. There was some small comfort in knowing that he understood you. That consolation couldn’t keep you warm at night when you’d instinctively reach out and find half of your bed still empty.

It would’ve been so much easier to live without him if there was some horrible betrayal to pin it all on, but he was as perfect when you lost him as he was when you found him. 

Shaky legs pushed you off the ground. Without meaning to, you groaned as your body returned to its regularly scheduled programming. Yoongi simply muttered, “Same,” as he made additional adjustments in his editing software.

You affectionally touched your knuckles to his shoulder as you passed by, though you quickly realized this gesture wasn’t made to comfort him. 

You shut the door softly behind you and headed up the hallway. Having kicked off and subsequently lost your shoes several hours ago, you padded in socked feet across the hardwood. The pattern – the various evolutions of Eevee – clashed so blatantly with the extravagance around you. Glancing down, you chuckled. At least some parts of you were still recognizable. 

The door to the stairwell creaked as you pushed it open and ducked inside. No longer camped out in the soundproof studio, you could hear the smattering of raindrops as they pummeled the exterior walls of the building. Somewhere between a drum roll and machine gun fire, you couldn’t figure out if the noise emphasized or relieved your anxiety. 

Gently, you lowered yourself down on a step halfway up the flight. As you stared down at your phone, your knee bounced of its own volition.

For once, you were thankful for the seventeen-hour time difference. This was the kind of call you needed to make at midnight, but one you didn’t want him receiving at midnight. It felt so much safer in daylight.

At least one of you had eyes on the sun. 

You’d deleted his number from your phone months ago because you thought it might help you let go. It didn’t. And to make matters worse, you still knew it by heart. As you typed it out easily, you wished this realization surprised you. You also wished that you’d catch him at a bad time, so you could simply leave a message. 

You’d never been lucky, though, had you?

Namjoon was half-asleep at a café table when the vibration of his phone against the wrought metal snapped him out of it. In his under-caffeinated daze, he couldn’t determine what that unbearable grinding noise was.

He could, however, see the way the elderly woman nearby was scowling at him. He furrowed his brows and blinked back at her; silently asking what the fuck her problem was. Just as silently, she pointed an angry, wrinkled finger to his tabletop. 

By the time his brain kicked into gear, he was too late. He picked up his now-quiet phone and nearly dropped it in an instant when he saw your name tied to a missed call.

He didn’t think twice before returning it – he should have – having figured there was only one way to know if he was truly hallucinating. You picked up immediately in a voice so you that he couldn’t have imagined it. He knew because he'd already tried.

“Hey.” 

People who didn’t know you often mistook the natural rasp of your voice for tiredness, but he did know you. You were beyond exhausted, more so than the last time he’d heard from you. Five months and twenty-one days ago.

This sounded like another all-nighter; like you got so consumed in creating that you couldn’t sleep until you finished. Remembering you like this opened a black hole in his chest – all this fondness with nowhere to go, collapsing in on itself, pulling.

What kind of masochist was he, voluntarily subjecting himself to this conversation? 

“Hey,” He croaked. Even his voice didn't know what to do. 

He heard shuffling on your end. You always pinned your phone between your right ear and shoulder to start — he immediately recognized the sound of your hair against the receiver when you switched it to your left side. Vanilla and honey flooded his nose despite the thousands of miles that separated him from the scent of your shampoo. 

There were a thousand questions spinning dizzy in his mind, but he couldn’t untangle them to spit one out. The longer you both remained quiet, the worse it got – and the worse he felt for his silence. Even without seeing you, he knew that your brows were knitting together. He knew that quiet made you feel too exposed. 

Namjoon cleared his throat to speak at the same moment you asked, “How are you?” His words echoed, a half-second from being uttered in unison. 

He prayed to any god that he’d stop feeling so nervous. There was no reason to be, not with you. You were his comfort zone, his safe space and – oh. Past tense.

Presently, you were – what, exactly? Could he call you an “ex” if you’d never had a title? It all felt too juvenile, hearing people whisper about his girlfriend. You were –fuck – You were home, and now his house was haunted.

A ghost. 

“I’ve been good,” he said quickly, planting a hollow smile on his face that wouldn’t have convinced you if you were there. Liar, liar, liar. “Busy. You sound –” 

“Awful?”

“– like you’ve been working all night.” 

He heard a sheepish chuckle and his clumsy, thudding heart went flying off into the void.

“That’s actually why I’m calling,” you admitted in a voice so tiny he nearly missed it, “And I wouldn’t be – I promise – if I could’ve bothered anyone else with this. This one, though… when I hear it in my head, I can’t imagine anyone –” 

“Say less.” 

It slipped out of him automatically. He couldn’t stop it. Now it was dangling there in dead air where he couldn’t reach it and shove it back down his throat. He must have said that to you a thousand times, giving you whatever you needed before you could even finish asking.

This was the first time he’d ever said it without punctuating it with a kiss to your forehead, though. And now, his equilibrium was off, like the staircase had one less step than he was expecting. 

When you finally broke the silence, he could’ve sworn he heard you sniffle, but he quickly kicked that thought back into the cage it escaped from. Your voice didn’t sound sad at all, so you couldn’t have been crying. Why would you be?

“I can have Yoongi send you what we have so far, lyrics too. If you’re interested, just let me know – verse, bridge, whatever you want.” 

“You’re with Yoongi?” 

It came out exactly as he hadn't intended – accusatory. It was no business of his who you spent time with, professionally or otherwise. And it didn’t even surprise him that Yoongi would stick around after the – whatever it was. All your shared friends stayed shared. His confusion was solely that Yoongi never mentioned working with you, let alone flying stateside to do so. 

Why hadn’t Yoongi said something? Did he assume Namjoon wouldn’t be interested in hearing about your project? Because he would - he kept up with all of your releases, even if it hurt. Was he scared that the mere mention of you would exacerbate the tailspin Namjoon was barely surviving?

Or was it something else? 

“Yeah, he got here a few days ago. I offered to send the vocals to him, but he said he wanted In-N-Out,” Your laugh, even under the weight of your sleepiness, still packed a punch. “Might be the longest trip anyone’s ever made for animal-style fries.” 

Namjoon felt like he was going to pass out, but for your sake, he tried to echo your laugh. “Sounds like he’s got his priorities in order, as usual.” 

That uncomfortable silence crawled back in and settled in the space between you. It never used to be like this. His mouth remained open as if his broken brain could think of a single thing to say. There were hours in every second that passed, but he didn’t hang up – and neither did you. 

“So, if I figure something out, I can shoot it back over –” 

You interrupted this time.

“No need,” You chirped. You must’ve sensed that his train of thought now consisted only of question marks because you dove right back in, “I’ll be in Seoul at the end of the month, so we can put all the pieces together then.” 

Please be speaking metaphorically. Please say – 

“I’ve gotta hop off now, but it was –” Your voice petered out at the end of your statement, and he didn’t know what to do within the pause.

What pleasantry would you settle on to end this conversation? Was it nice to hear from him, or did you also feel like you’d walked through the emotional equivalent of a car wash?  

It was heavy when you exhaled the amendment, hitting the ground with a thud that could’ve knocked him over.

It was torture, and it drop-kicked him into the abyss at full-speed. No light above, no hope below. A black hole that he kept selfishly refusing to close – all because he answered your call. 

“Thank you, Joonie.” 

Fuck. He was doomed.

You spent a shocking percentage of your life on international flights. It was a privilege – you knew it – to travel to the extent that you did, but it was so lonely.

If you were flying, there were two justifications. The first was the most common – touring. You’d touch down in cities all over the world, stay for a few hours, and then you’d leave again as soon as you could blink.

Your interactions were limited, either one-sided conversations from a stage; or facilitated entirely by a local translator. Never truly connecting, missed phone calls and texts sent too late to get a response. The same stale conversations with the crew that had been stuck with you for months. 

The second was less common, and somehow even lonelier – visiting a home that was no longer yours. 

It always went the same way. You’d touch down at the Incheon International Airport in your home country and feel just as foreign as the tourists bustling around you. You’d gather a suitcase’s worth of belongings and try not to think about the fact that they – and everything else you owned – once lived there, too. You’d hit customs and then, as a reward, snag yourself some boba from the café on your way out the door. 

In all those trips, you’d never once hailed a cab because Namjoon was always waiting. You’d hear him before you saw him with how loud he kept his car’s stereo, but when you did finally lay eyes on him, you’d light up like a sparkler. He’d shower you with affection – publicly, despite his usually private nature – and swap out the luggage in your hands for some thoughtful surprise. Flowers, usually, after painstaking deliberation over the meaning he wanted to convey. 

Now, you stood on the sidewalk with your empty hand in the air. 

Shortly after settling into your cab, you fell asleep. The person who would have gently scolded you for taking this risk wasn’t there to do so. Instead, you woke up stiff and disoriented to the sound of your driver honking his horn. You quickly learned that he wasn’t honking at traffic; he was honking at you with a scowl on his face. 

“Time to go! Wake up – your stop!” 

He was speaking in English, so it took you a few moments to determine whether you were dreaming. Impatient, he honked again.

Did he think you were a tourist? Was he right?

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you threw the door open and hurled yourself out. You ran to the trunk, snatched your suitcase, and tried not to remember that you didn't used to have to do this part yourself.

Yoongi had the foresight to give you a spare keycard before leaving California, so you were able to get into his building quickly – before you were honked at again. Spoken to in English again, like this place had never been home.

You, belonging nowhere and to no one, kept yourself together until the elevator doors gave you some semblance of shelter. 

Alone, alone, alone, you cried so hard that your shoulders shook. The mirrored walls around you showed infinite versions of you, all pitiful like you were still that little girl who’d gotten separated from her parents at an amusement park. It was incredible how you felt smaller in that elevator than you did as a child.

And fuck, did that embarrassment make you cry even harder. 

Eventually, those doors would have to re-open, and you’d have to let yourself into Yoongi’s unoccupied penthouse just to wait for his return. You were so sick of walking into empty apartments and hearing nothing but your own footsteps. No warmth, no laughter, just a black hole of your own creation. 

You chose this, you reminded yourself. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? You were so busy chasing broader horizons, you didn't notice that the sun had disappeared. If you’d known – really, truly known – what the fall would be like, would you have taken that leap of faith? No, you think, but you did and there’s no jumping back into the airplane once you’ve dived out of it.

Ding. 

There was a post-it note waiting for you on the inside of Yoongi’s door that you would’ve missed if you hadn’t taken so much time to shut it behind you. His handwriting was shockingly neat for someone who was always in a rush. His note told you that he’d be home in two hours, that there was food for you in the refrigerator, and that you should help yourself to whatever you needed. 

The sinkhole in your stomach wasn’t created by hunger, so you pushed that down to the bottom of your to-do list and dragged your luggage to the guest bedroom down the hall.

Every inch of his place was undeniably Yoongi – monochromatic and edgy, but still so confusingly inviting. His guest room was similar in style, but with more personalized touches than most visitors tended to expect. Framed photos of friends, and the collaborators he was most proud to work with.

Your eyes eventually found one of you, beaming brightly. 

It hurt to look, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away. It was taken in a photobooth at Kim Seokjin’s wedding last spring. You were sandwiched on a small bench seat between Yoongi and Namjoon.

The former, like you, was captured in the middle of a laugh - smiling at the camera with all teeth, eyes crinkled at the edges but still sparkling. The latter wasn’t looking at the camera at all – just you, like you were all there was. 

Forcing yourself to look away, you returned the frame to its place on the vanity and kept moving. Your primary instinct was to hurl yourself into the plush bed and never leave it. But you felt stale after spending so much time traveling, and you didn’t want to collapse into those beautiful sheets until you’d scrubbed the day off you. 

Shuffling off to the bathroom, you finally remembered to take your phone off ‘airplane mode.’ All at once, the floodgates opened. The onslaught of texts, emails, and voicemails was so overwhelming that your phone froze.

When the flurry stopped, you scanned through your various inboxes for anything that might require an immediate response. Finding nothing urgent, you were about to set your phone down when you saw an email from Namjoon, addressing both you and Yoongi.

His verse, you realized as you opened it. 

I think I lost you sooner than I wanted to  And I know you can't say the same  But I can't hate you for doing what you've gotta do  Cause I'm just in bed sleeping through the pain  Do you see wasted potential when you look at me?  Of what we could be if it wasn't like this  I know you asked me not to try and change myself  But when I was with you, I felt fixed 

It took everything you had not to drop to your knees.

Namjoon was an incredible liar.

He didn’t utilize the skill often – in fact, he was usually too honest – but when he did, he could get himself out of any unwanted scenario.

In the distant past, he’d slip out of obligations made by his label to stay home in bed with you. It worked every single time. Instead of putting on some over-priced suit, wasting his breath swapping empty pleasantries with industry tools; he’d be hooking his arms around your quivering thighs, pinning you to his face as he fucked you with his tongue. 

In the present, he lied again. 

Yoongi asked, “How did it feel to hear from her again?” 

“To be honest,” Namjoon started, knowing full well that nothing he said next would be, “That shit’s behind me, man. I was surprised her number was still in my contacts, you know? She’s been a non-factor for a minute.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “With the number of girls you’ve gone through in the meantime, I imagine it gets hard to keep track.” 

Hook, line, sinker. 

Namjoon offered a smirk and a shrug in response, which Yoongi accepted without further comment. The relief of being believed did nothing to cure the nausea swirling in Namjoon’s stomach, though - not just for the cruelty of his lie, but for the way he’d acted since you left and stayed gone.  

He learned early on that it would take more than fucking someone he didn't know to keep warm, but knowing better didn’t mean he did better. None of them – and there were many – could pull him from the limbo he found himself in without you. There was an emptiness gnawing at his insides that he couldn’t fill, and the more he tried, the more it tore at him.

The only thing he succeeded at was becoming someone he didn’t recognize –someone he didn’t even like. 

Yoongi pulled into his parking garage and turned to Namjoon, staking him through the heart with words alone. “Well, the non-factor is upstairs, so try to remember her name when you see her.” 

Namjoon chuckled, but it didn’t sound anywhere close to convincing. There was a flicker of doubt in Yoongi’s quickly flexed eyebrow, though he kept any questions he may have had to himself. Without a word, they clambered out of the car, and they stayed quiet until they stepped into the elevator. 

“How has she been?” Namjoon asked more quietly than he meant to. Like someone who’s scared of the answer - or worse, being asked why he’s asking. Quickly diverting further inquiry, he provided clarification Yoongi hadn’t sought. “Sounded tired as fuck on the phone.” 

Yoongi glanced at Namjoon before selecting the button marked with his floor number. “You know how she is,” He hummed. 

That one hurt. He knew how you were – past tense.

Except for that one phone call, he hadn’t heard your voice in months. He hadn’t seen you for even longer than that. Your number hadn’t changed, but for all he knew, everything else could have. All he had now was his memory’s pale imitation of you, always in sight but never within reach.

A ghost that disappeared into the walls before he could get too close. 

When the elevator door opened, Namjoon was fighting between running forward and running away. Incapable of doing either, it was Yoongi’s light punch on his bicep that prompted his feet to move. Namjoon trudged along after him until Yoongi stopped short with a groan. 

“The fuck?” Namjoon coughed as he collided with Yoongi’s back. “Don’t tell me you’re already winded, dude. I’m not giving your old ass a piggy-back ride.” 

The scowl he received could’ve scorched the Earth.  

“I forgot my fucking phone in the car.” Yoongi tossed his apartment key at Namjoon. It thudded against his unsuspecting chest only to be caught on the rebound.

Then, Yoongi pointed at the door. “Go play nice and figure out where we’re getting take-out from. I had a dream about bulgogi last night that was borderline sexual, so keep that in mind.” 

Namjoon’s face scrunched up. “I’ll be trying my best to keep it out, so thanks for that.”  

Yoongi had already turned around, waving a dismissive hand as he stalked off. 

As soon as Namjoon heard the elevator doors close, his phone chirped in his pocket and caught him off guard. He glanced down to find a text from Yoongi – who was, apparently, also a liar. 

Yoongi [18:19 PM]: fyi you always say “to be honest” when you’re about to say some bullshit Yoongi [18:19 PM]: "non-factor" my asssssss

Namjoon grimaced and shoved his phone back into his pocket before walking to Yoongi’s door with his heart in his throat.

Clearly, Yoongi wanted Najmoon to fix things with you. He’d crafted some false narrative to get himself out of there, to give Namjoon the time and space to do it. But there wasn’t a single fucking thing he could say to rebuild the bridge you’d both demolished together.

That is, if you even wanted him to try.

After unlocking the door, he froze. A full minute passed before his hand received his brain’s signal to turn the knob, and even then, his feet felt as if they were encased in concrete. If hearing your voice made him spiral, he was terrified of what the sight of you might do.

More than anything, he was scared to see how you looked at him – and he didn’t know what reaction he wanted. If you lit up the way you used to, it might kill him. If you had no reaction at all, it would definitely kill him. 

He would’ve stalled at that threshold all night if you didn’t appear in the hallway, straight ahead. You froze like a deer in headlights, one hand still on the door you’d exited from. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly in surprise.

He didn’t notice the red rims around your eyes right away, but once he did, every cell in his body screamed at him to run to you, to hold you.

But he didn’t.

Touching you now only to lose you again tomorrow - well, that was a scab he couldn’t rip off again. There was only scar tissue where his heart used to be.

“Hey,” You smiled so sweetly when you saw him, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Those fucking eyes! He’d give up everything he had to erase the sadness swimming behind them, threatening to spill out. 

Why were you still so far away?

You glanced around him, noting Yoongi’s absence, but didn’t ask where he was. “I was thinking we could get something from that –” 

The longer he stared at you, the more impossible it became to keep his distance. He couldn’t stand on that doorstep with you over there, trying so hard to look like you hadn’t been crying – like you weren’t about to start again. 

Fuck it.

If he was so dead-set on re-breaking his own heart, he’d do it with you in his arms.

“Joonie, is everything oka–” 

No, nothing was. Nothing had been, not for – fuck, are his eyes getting misty? - a long time. Not since you walked out of his apartment for the last time, and he let you. He couldn’t make any of it okay, but with you there now, he didn’t give a fuck about where you were before. 

Your eyes were as big as the moon when he finally reached you, blinking your surprise up at him.

Did you really think he had any other option than to hold you? Did you have any idea how you looking at him like this - bare-faced, freshly-showered, vulnerable - demanded his immediate affection?

It felt like coming home, sliding his fingers through your still-damp hair. He could’ve fallen to pieces when the familiar scent of your shampoo – vanilla and honey – crashed over him, but he didn’t. His lips collided with yours, and for the first time in a fucking year, he felt whole.

You clung to him so desperately, you could’ve ripped a hole in his shirt. You couldn't care about that, though, because he kissed you and it was pure starlight. He kissed you hard, nicking your lip between his teeth until you opened your mouth against his.

You whimpered into him, drunk on the wet heat of his mouth, melting and falling and spinning and flying. You felt it all fall to the wayside, every second wasted without him, every text you didn’t send, every wrong turn that led you so far away. 

You didn't realize until you finally broke apart that the tears on your cheek weren’t exclusively yours. His gaze locked with yours, and all either of you could do was gasp for air - chests heaving, lips kissed swollen. If not for the arm around your back, pinning you against his chest, you would’ve floated away. But he had you, completely.  

Finally, you felt tethered. 

Your trembling hand settled on the side of his face. Fuck! That face. The warmth of his skin, the heights of his cheek bones, the gentle slope of his nose.

How many mornings did you wake up and miss it? How did you ever fall asleep without it nuzzled into the crook of your neck, without the whisper of warm breath on your skin?

You wanted to scream until the hurt left your chest, but you didn’t dare – not with that face so perfectly close to yours.  

He spoke first, “I’m so –” 

Your eyes followed your thumb as it swiped over his bottom lip, unearthing a quiver that burned you up inside. He was paralyzed by your touch. Enraptured. Leaving that clause hanging open in the air.

His eyes were wide with anticipation as he watched you, pupils dilating when you whispered. “Say less.” 

Faster than you could process, he lifted you off the ground as if you weighed nothing at all. Automatically, your legs locked behind his back; your lips re-captured his and his kiss never faltered as he carried you back into the guest room. Quickly and with a shocking display of control, he kicked the door closed without slamming it – or breaking it. 

Like so many times before, he laid you gently onto the mattress as if you were crafted from porcelain. And when he finally pulled away from you, you gazed up at him in awe.

This was one of the million reasons you couldn’t seem to let him go – the way his eyes softened when you were breathless underneath him, like you were the only thing in the universe worth looking at.

There were too many things to be said that neither of you could verbalize. You felt them all falling down around you like confetti, loose ends to be tied up later. He didn’t need to say a thing, so long as he kept looking at you like that. 

When his fingers landed at the hem of your shirt, you knew what came next. A dance you’d done a thousand times, you lifted your arms for him to pull it up and off. Still damp from your shower, the ends of your hair raised goosebumps as they chilled the bare skin of your back.  

He moved slowly and without breaking eye contact as he unbuttoned your jeans. Your zipper followed, then your jeans and underwear in tandem. The denim dragged so deliciously against your thighs as he slipped them down, down, down. As he tugged them off your ankles, you discarded your bra and tossed it aside. You were entirely bare and shivering with anticipation when his gaze found you again.

His shirt soon joined yours on the floor. Kneeling between your legs, his bare chest burned against your own as he kissed you for the third time. So many more were needed to make up for lost time, but you could feel how much of himself he poured into the kisses he’d credited you with so far. The taste of his mouth on yours was indescribably intoxicating after so much time apart. 

With you sufficiently distracted, the hands that cupped your face began to migrate. You felt so small under his touch, reduced to putty in the warm expanse of his palms. His face lowered too, freeing your mouth to moan as he placed open-mouthed kisses down the length of your neck.

Involuntarily, you gasped when his fingers pinched at one of your nipples. The curve of his smile impressed upon your throat as he suckled at the sensitive skin he found there, leaving clouds of indigo behind. 

As he marked you, he rolled and tweaked your nipples in turn. Your eyes fluttered shut and you keened while your head crashed back against the pillows, “That mouth – feels s-so fucking good.” Your fingers carded through his hair, fingernails scratching lightly against his scalp; his silence broke with a shuddered moan. 

“S’all I want, baby,” He hummed as his lips trailed down from your neck and beyond your collarbone. “To make you feel good.”  

You were trembling when he claimed one of your nipples with his mouth. Then he had the audacity to look up at you from under his lashes when he released it with a lewd pop, causing your back to arch against his chest with a gasp. There was a rumble from deep within him when your grip on his hair tightened, and the sound alone made you gush. 

“To taste you,” His tongue left a wet stripe above your navel as he continued his descent, large hands dipping beneath you to squeeze the doughy flesh of your ass. Shit - you would simply never recover from this. “To devour you until you melt in my mouth.” 

Another sharp tug at his hair, another guttural moan breaking free from your chest.

How often had you dreamed of this in your time apart? How many times did you try to remember how it felt when that timbre whispered sins against your naked body? Fuck. With those words alone, he had you on the brink. 

You whined when he pulled away from you; but it quickly turned into a gasp when he hooked his arms around your thighs and dragged you with him towards the end of the bed. Now kneeling on the floor, he ducked below your knees until they rested over the tops of his shoulders. 

Face so near to your aching core, he growled, and you felt it. “I missed this pussy –” He placed a wet kiss on your inner thigh, prompting you to clench them reflexively. “I missed the way your thighs squeeze around me while you fuck yourself against my tongue.” 

Shivering, slack-jawed, and stupid, you grabbed fistfuls of the comforter below you. He was so painfully close to your cunt and still so fucking far from you. You knew he could see how badly you craved him - you’d beg for his mouth if you had to. 

Of course, you didn’t have to - you never did.

Seconds before your impatience could drive you fully insane, he was on you, tongue flat against your cunt, dragging up against your slit. When the tip of his tongue flicked over your clit, you cried out with a buck of your hips. His grip on you tightened, pinning you flush against him as he teased you. 

“That it’s, baby. Good girl.” 

It’s a miracle either one of you could form words with how relentlessly he licked, nipped, and suckled on your throbbing cunt. All you could do was babble in response to his praise – until the tip of his tongue penetrated your weeping hole, and you screamed. 

A flurry of curse words spilled from your lips; his name sprinkled in between the obscenities. Fuck, you needed more. More, more, more. You extended your arm and reclaimed your grasp on his locks. Once you did, you began to grind yourself against his tongue until your abdominal muscles burned - you hadn’t utilized them to this extent since the last time.

His hand squeezed your thigh, goading you, encouraging you to use him the way you needed to. The pressure of his tongue increased with your pace. You had no control over the sounds you made; the breathless moans escaped you before you could think of trapping them. The coil was tightening, burning red-hot in the pit of your belly. 

So good, so good, so g – 

“Fuck!” 

One by one, your muscles tensed in quick succession until your body shook violently in his grip. Toes curling, back arching, head crashing backwards into the pillows, mewling. 

When you finally gathered the strength to re-open your bleary eyes, there were spots dotting the edges of your vision – and then there was Namjoon, fuck-drunk between your weakened knees, with a mixture of his saliva and your orgasm shining on his chin. 

Lustful eyes locked squarely on your flushed face; his tongue slid from between his swollen lips to attend to the mess you’d made of him. His panting rivaled yours, but unlike you, he was still capable of speech.

“I will never – ever – get tired of watching you come,” he sighed before wiping his mouth against the back of his hand, “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.” 

As he climbed back on top of you, he placed a chaste kiss on your sweaty forehead. “So vulnerable –” Then the tip of your nose. “So vocal –” Then, too briefly, your lips. “Perfect.” 

“Joon,” You murmured against his lips. His mouth curved into a smile at the nickname, which you used almost exclusively to win arguments, or to persuade him to do something. It worked every time. 

He nudged your nose with the tip of his as he tried to conceal his laugh. “Baby?” 

The fond look in his eyes was quickly covered by fluttering eyelids as your fingertips whispered down over his chest. They snapped open and bored into you as your fingers slid over the waistband of his joggers, tracing a feather-light trail over the bulge below. You felt his cock twitch autonomously against the warmth of your palm. 

“Shit,” He hissed through gritted teeth as you squeezed him. Eyes drifting shut once again; he rolled his hips to exacerbate the friction. His neck tensed, head thrown back, when you finally dipped under the elastic and took him into your hand. Skin to skin, burning up.

The next moan from his fawning mouth was something you hadn’t heard in his voice for months – your name. “I need you. Now.” 

In the few moments he pulled away to remove his pants, a chill crept in and settled where the weight of his body had just been.

There it is again, you thought, the feeling of having him and losing him.

When this night was over and he was gone from you, would he stay that way? Should you have gone this far, knowing nothing would be different in the daylight? 

You were blinking fast when he reclaimed the space above you. Something flickered in his eye as he assessed the look on your face, but he didn’t ask. Instead, he leaned down and kissed you so gently that you could’ve imagined it – but so completely that your brain could never have fabricated it. Not successfully, anyway.

You’d already tried. 

Breaking apart once more, he reached down and stroked himself slowly. His eyes never left yours. You both held your breath as he slid into you, millimeter by millimeter, reminding your body – after all this time – how to take him. All of him, to the hilt, until you could finally exhale.

Stretched to accommodate his width, so fucking full, you saw a way out of the nothing that had you trapped like quicksand. It was him, always. Your safe haven.

Neither of you could speak once he began rolling his hips against you. The quiet was electrified by heavy breaths and whimpers. The wet heat of your cunt squelched as your walls enveloped him, just as unwilling to let him go as the rest of you.

Over and over, he grinded into you, dragging his length across your most sensitive places; hips swiveling slightly to the side as he pushed and pulled himself through you, the way he knew you liked it. 

Open mouth beside his ear, you keened and sighed, wordlessly informing him that you wouldn’t last much longer. He was perfectly attuned to your subconscious movements, and he responded to each of them without hesitation.

He’d never need to be reminded that the fingernails digging into his biceps meant faster, and the upward tilt of your jaw meant deeper. That when your eyebrows rose above your closed lids, you were seconds away from your release. 

He remembered exactly how to fuck you through your orgasm when it came – shallow, staccato thrusts that unraveled you further as you writhed against the sheets. The spot on your neck to nip at like some secret switch, praise dripping hot in your ear like honey.

“Such a good girl, squeezing me like this,” He panted, “Taking me so well – so fucking perfect for me, angel.” 

As soon as you crashed down through the atmosphere, his movements threatened to ricochet you right back into space. You keened helplessly with your half-numbed fingers gripping any part of him where they could find purchase.

“I c-can't stop -” You mewled, “How am I s-still c-coming?” 

His response didn’t come in the form of words. His lips collided with yours hard enough to clink teeth as he drove himself deeper and deeper and deeper. Sloppy, kiss-bitten lips laying claim; relentless in their mutual need for closeness. Your walls were still fluttering around him – was this your second orgasm or your third? - when he moaned into your mouth.

Every part of him tensed above, around, and inside you as the flood of his release filled every crevice of your cunt. 

Breathing ragged, his head fell into the crook of your shoulder. Considerate as ever, he tried so hard to keep his full weight off you, but his exhaustion undermined his efforts. You didn’t mind at all – you’d re-build your home there, staying forever between his body and that borrowed bed if you could. 

But you couldn’t, could you? If you felt empty before, how could you feel whole again after this? His name etched itself into your ribcage, and now your body would never re-acclimate to his absence.

Why did you do this to yourself? 

You squeezed your eyes shut tight when you felt tears prickling in their corners.  

Everything you felt for him – over the course of two years – came crashing down over you. You buried your face into his shoulder and tried your best to keep your crying to yourself.

You’d never get his scent off your body now. 

He could sense your shaking; it forced his heavy lids open. 

“I don’t know what to do with it,” you sniffled, silently begging yourself to stop. You felt yourself shrinking under his eye. It would only be a matter of time before you disappeared entirely.

His tone dripped with concern, serving only to deepen that infernal ache in the pit of your stomach. “With what?”  

“All the love I have for you. I don’t –” You sobbed, “I don’t know where to put it now.” 

His breath caught in his throat as if you’d punched him straight in the chest. If you listened hard enough, you might’ve heard his heart break. You could certainly feel it in the way he tensed in your arms.

When he moved off you, you feared the worst – that your incessant crying overflowed the bathtub, and your admission was the toaster thrown recklessly inside. But unlike the last time, he didn’t leave - and neither did you.

The mattress shifted as he claimed the space at your side - where he should have been all this time. Strong arms enveloped you as he turned to face you, and even though he held you, he couldn’t stop you from shattering.

For a while, he let you. Squeezed you hard, stroked your hair the way he used to, let you cry out all the poison that filled the spaces in the cavern of your chest.

And when you could finally breathe again, he kissed your forehead. “I’ll trade you for it.” 

(1/8/23): Check out the sequel, Redamancy, here.

[vellichxrr6782]

— all too well.

character[s] — diluc. theme & genre — lovers to exes, angst. cw/tw — very toxic diluc, fighting, self-deprecation, breakups. word count — 4.2k words. a/n — let's play a game called, "spot the references i've made to other taylor swift songs in this fic" :D | a heartfelt apology to all diluc kissers, but no apology to diluc bc he REFUSES to come home

"diluc, what the fuck?" you spat, your face showing utter disbelief.

"what?" diluc groaned, taking off his coat and setting it on the rack, "what is it now?"

"what do you mean!? did you not hear what the hell your colleagues were telling about me?" you raised a brow, crossing your arms while you leaned against the doorframe.

"what did they say?" diluc paid no heed, his face devoid of any empathy as he poured himself a glass of water.

"don't act like you weren't there." you clenched your fists, gritting your teeth. "they were making fun of me."

"you're simply overreacting." he furrowed his brows.

you and diluc had been dating for seven whole years. isn't that insane? seven years in heaven, yet these days, it started to seem more like hell. maybe you had been ignorant of all your problems for seven years, or diluc recently had a massive shift in his attitude towards you.

he treated you like a deity before, now he treated you like you were a job. like you were an obligation.

you went out for dinner with diluc's colleagues tonight, hoping it could be a nice change for you both. diluc and you had both been busy with your own things for the past few weeks, and you hoped this dinner could help you both bond.

but instead it drove you both apart even more.

"did you not fucking hear what they said? 'oh, i thought y/n had so much of experience with guys, but i was pretty shocked to find out they were often simple flings with no significance. i was surprised when she started dating you, though, i didn't think you liked girls like her' meant? huh? am i not allowed to date other people?"

"and how does that imply they were making fun of you? to me it sounds like they're just thinking about our relationship, normally."

maybe that's how you ended up in an argument with your significant other, who didn't seem to think you were significant at all. your opinion didn't matter as long as diluc had his way.

"it implies that i don't put in any effort into my relationships, diluc. it says that i go around sleeping with every man i meet. you of all people should know that that's not true." you clenched your fist, "they shouldn't be thinking about my relationship, i should. you didn't say a word to defend me."

"god, y/n, what if they were right?"

"excuse me?" your eyes widened in disbelief. "what did you just say?"

"what if they were right?" he raised his voice, standing up. he slammed the glass down on the kitchen counter, and you flinched, and noticed a small crack appear in the glass. "what if you're not putting in any effort for us? i have to do every damn thing. i need to make time for you, do you know how big of a deal that is?"

you were shocked, to say the least. where was this sudden outburst coming from? honestly, was he even listening to you right now? was he listening to himself? he sounded absurd, it was like you didn't know him anymore.

"wow, okay, if making time for your girlfriend is such a nuisance for you, then how wonderful would it be if you didn't have one at all?!" you shouted, gritting your teeth as the words left your mouth.

diluc didn't spare a second in bouncing back, as if he was speaking from the bottom of his heart, and he didn't need to think twice.

"yeah, that sounds pretty nice right about now, y/n." diluc let out a laugh, "it sounds pretty fucking nice."

your throat went dry. you felt your heart shatter. it was as if your world came crumbling down onto you, you didn't expect for him to agree with you. at a loss for words, you sharply inhaled to stop tears from falling. you felt immense anger at first, but for some reason, when he admitted that, your anger disappeared. it was replaced by hurt.

in your storm of emotions, in your speechlessness, all you could manage to utter was a broken, pathetic, "fine."

and you turned around and left out the door, grabbing your coat. you stopped there, in the doorway for a second.

just a second. one second, diluc. that's all you wanted to give him. cause no matter how much he hurt you, you still had that wretched thing in you.

hope.

you had hope, god, you had faith that diluc would call your name, apologise, you both could make it up to each other, you would apologise, and- wait, what were you even apologising for?

well, one thing was certain when you didn't hear his voice call out to you. diluc ragnvindr, for the first time in the seven years you had known him, betrayed your faith.

it had been two weeks since the fight that night. two goddamn weeks. not a single call, not a single text, not a single glance was spared for you from diluc. it was as if you didn't exist anymore.

he probably wished you didn't.

yeah, sure, couples often have their fights, their arguments. but in the end, they meet in the middle and talk it out. but what could you do when there was nothing more left to say? when every cruel claim had been made already? when it was too late?

daylight hit your drawn curtains, itching to be let into your room, but you refused. the light hurt your eyes, you'd much rather prefer to be in the darkness of your bedroom, with the only light being diluc's contact on your phone.

it baffled you how someone could pamper you and give you all their affection one moment, then completely disregard you the next. you threw your phone on your pillow, collapsing onto the bed. his words played on loop in your mind.

you wanted to cry, you really did. but the tears refused to come out, you wouldn't cry for him. especially when diluc probably doesn't feel an ounce of guilt for everything he said that night.

your phone buzzed, and you jumped to see what the notification was. your frown immediately turned into a smile when you saw diluc's name.

you picked up the call, and bated your breath.

"y/n. let's talk."

wow, couldn't he have even said hello? just cutting straight to the chase. he sounded so... demanding that it made you feel like you're the one at fault, and you owe him an apology.

"you finally came around, huh? two weeks and now you wanna apologise?" you grit your teeth, awaiting his response.

"who said i'm apologising?"

what?

"what do you... what do you mean- " you started, but paused when you heard diluc sigh.

"just come to good hunter at 2 o'clock. i'll buy you something." he hung up, not even allowing you to speak any further.

you had no choice but to listen to his bullshit.

you were seated across diluc. in silence. painful silence.

perhaps even the waitress at good hunter, who was waiting at your table, could sense it. you would've felt bad for her, but right now, you pitied yourself even more.

he looked so... dignified. he looked like he was in a completely different world from you, you felt small and meaningless compared to him. you hated it, you hated feeling that kind of worthlessness.

who knew? the same diluc who showed you the stars and showered you with fake niceties, now stole away all of that praise he'd once given.

"two black coffees." he stated, and the waitress scurried away with the order.

"you know, i can order too right? i know how to speak, thank you very much." you rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair.

diluc frowned, "i don't want to spend too much time here, let's just get this done with."

"alright, what did you wanna say to me, that isn't an apology?" you furrowed your brows, emphasising the fact that he still owed you one.

you didn't expect diluc to utter the words you had been dreading. the words that would absolutely tear you apart.

"let's break up."

you thought time came to an abrupt stop. the world stopped. your world stopped.

no.

no, no, no, no, please no.

"...what?" you almost choked, biting your lip to stop it from quivering. "you're serious?"

please, diluc, no.

"you heard me, let's break up." he wasn't even asking you, he was just demanding it. "this isn't working anymore."

this isn't working anymore, you almost would've laughed if you weren't on the brink of breaking down.

"it isn't working because you refuse to do anything from your end. you're so fucking entitled, you think you have the right to treat me like fucking shit-!" you started, your frustration seeping through your words.

"we're in public, calm down for god's sake." he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"so that's why you called me here? in public, so i wouldn't make a scene, and just quietly accept whatever you're telling me?"

"why do you always twist my intentions? i called you here because it's a place we both can go to easily. i didn't want to bring you to my place, if i was gonna break up with you anyway." diluc massaged his forehead, letting out a groan. "we're over."

he was so cruel. so, so, utterly cruel.

didn't this hurt him too? why did he look so unfazed? did he never love you to begin with...? no, that can't be true. you rememeber diluc from years ago. he was so kind, so loving. what happened to him? why did he change?

questions revolved in your head, all left unanswered when diluc willed it. he was always in charge. you were just some pathetic pawn for him, just a tool with no emotions.

"my world revolved around you for seven years, diluc. how do you expect me to throw it all away?" tears welled up in your eyes as you spoke, unable to grasp the sudden news. "if we had just tried to love each other-"

diluc's harsh tone suddenly changed into a soft one, as he said, "i don't think we should be trying to love each other, y/n." he sounded guilty, almost.

almost. you hated that word. it reminded you of a future that could've been.

"that's all i had to say to you." he claimed, "if it makes you feel better, i'm sorry."

"i don't want your fucking pity apology, diluc." you let out a scoff, "i want my seven years i wasted on you. i want them back. can you do that for me?"

"you know i can't-"

"i thought you were pretty accomplished, though? master diluc, the king of the wine industry. a strategist, a business tycoon, a master manipulator," you waved your arms around, "i never understood that last one until now."

"enough." diluc narrowed his eyes.

"yeah, enough. i've had enough." you got up, almost crashing into the waitress who was bringing your black coffee. the one you didn't even want.

it would've been childish to take the cup of black coffee and throw it on diluc. it would've been dramatic and badass though, maybe you should've done that. but you would've felt guilty about it, later. even if diluc hurt you, you would've probably thought that was too far.

fuck, why did you care? he went too far too. and he didn't apologise for it, he never felt guilty. why did you?

that really said a lot about your relationship with him, huh?

it had been exactly seven hours since you and diluc broke up. you watched as the clock struck hour nine, minute five, exactly seven hours from your break up.

you didn't know what else you were supposed to do except count every second.

lifelessly, you stared at your bedroom ceiling. you inhaled deeply, glancing towards your phone screen.

9:06, no messages.

nothing.

maybe it was wrong of you to expect something in the first place. but could you blame yourself? you loved him desperately, and the only thing you wanted was that love to be returned. you had to fight the irrational urge to call him first.

the sun went down, and your love died.

you kept your phone aside, getting up to clean your room. your head hurt seeing the terrible state of your bedroom, clothes thrown around, papers falling from drawers and the table.

sitting down, exasperated, you started folding your clothes to distract yourself from your grief.

your mind was silent, you were too tired to think anything. you were too tired to utter another word.

in your heart, you knew you were just waiting for your phone to ring, and diluc's name to show up on the caller ID.

but in your heart, you also knew that it wouldn't happen.

your eyes couldn't help but wander to one of the corners in your room in which, tucked away safely, sat a carboard box. you held you breath in contemplation. arguments were drowned out by silence, and you got up, and took out the box. opening it, your eyes focused on the collection of small trinkets and notes.

on top was a picture of you and diluc, the one you had taken on your first date. there was a note attached, with the date and diluc's handwriting, "first date, liuli pavillion."

your mind was blank, you didn't know what to think. should you smile at those fond memories, or frown cause it's gone forever? should you let out a laugh at how gullible you were, or cry because you're still gullible, and worse, probably, if you still had hope.

you found a few cassettes thrown around in the mix, labelled with the names of cliche love songs, and a "to y/n, my beloved" or "to diluc, my dearest" written.

you chose to laugh at your own incredulity. it came out pained, weak. tired.

tied with a worn-out rubber band, you saw a stack of small papers, with affirmations written on them. before diluc headed out to work, he used to write you little notes to keep you company in his absence.

adelinde probably helped him put those around the house. it ranged from simple, mundane things like "finish two bottles of water today, you can't keep forgetting", to essays and paragraphs about how much he adored you. you valued both of them equally, they really made your day.

and those notes that made you grin back then, now make you break out into a pitiful sob. you thought to yourself, you were pathetic.

it hurted so much. you couldn't explain it, but it was eating you whole. you made him your temple, your world revolved around diluc solely for seven years. now that he was gone, you didn't know what else you had left. what responsibilites, what obligations and commitments did you have now?

the gods hated you, you thought. diluc hated you too, probably. you hated yourself even more.

maybe going out for drinks wasn't a good idea. you thought it could get your mind off things, but instead, you were running straight to the problem.

you called diluc.

"diluc," you slurred, holding onto the coffee table. "i miss you."

your house was a mess, with things thrown around, a broken vase lying on the floor from when you bumped into it a few seconds ago. you got drunk, despite being a lightweight. you just needed to get your mind off everything.

but even in your subconcious, you still came back to him. that's what you hated most. and you most certainly weren't in the right state of mind to call your ex.

you could hear diluc's steady breathing from the other end of the line. he didn't respond to you, instead choosing to ask a question.

"...are you drunk?"

"no," you chuckled, "i just miss you." you were starting to have a splitting headache, so you crashed onto your sofa. you accidentally collided with the lamp next to it, and hurt your arm.

you let out a groan of pain, and diluc asked you, worry evident in his tone, "y/n?! are you fine?"

"not really..." you replied, feeling your eyes close as you dozed off in deep slumber, he could hear your soft snoring. he hung up.

around 10 minutes later, you heard the doorbell ring, but you couldn't get up to answer it. diluc opened the door, mumbling a, "god, you forgot to lock the door? what if i hadn't come?"

he rushed to your side, calling your name. "y/n, look at me." he asked, and you grabbed his hand, eyes meeting his.

"you're really here... diluc? or am i hallucinating.." you mumbled, struggling to keep your eyes open. "i'm so mad at you."

diluc's throat went dry, and he spoke, "i know."

"i really want to hate you."

"i know."

"but i can't find it in me to hate you, for some reason. i'm just really frustrated at you, for treating me this way." you gripped on his clothes, shaking. "you're the worst person i've ever known."

"i know. i'm sorry." was all he could say, as he gently wrapped an arm around your back, trying to carry you.

"you're not sorry." you replied, with a hint of sobriety. diluc couldn't respond, he didn't know how. he silently carried you to your bedroom, slowly placing you on your bed.

"it didn't hurt as much as i thought it would, when you broke up with me. in that moment, i was just angry." you confessed, "but after a few days, it hit me. the realisation that you won't be there when i wake up anymore."

he didn't know what else to say. diluc didn't even know why he came running to your house. he wasn't in love anymore. it was over for him. it would be an overstatement to say he cared, too.

maybe it was pity.

but that made him sound heartless. maybe he was.

"i was so angry at you, i thought i never wanted to see you again." you frowned. "but when my anger faded, and i felt grief instead, i wanted to come back."

"why?" he asked.

"i wanted to come back because i loved you." you raised your voice, still keeping your calm.

diluc paused, not knowing what to say. he pressed his lips into a firm line, "i guess we've found another thing we can't agree on anymore."

"get some rest." he whispered. it was definitely the effects of the alcohol you had that night, but diluc almost seemed kind. you felt like you were in the past again.

why were you still clinging onto what was long gone? it was just you. he had moved on. you should too. though it was easier said than done.

maybe, just for tonight, you'd let yourself mourn your love that died. the love that would've, could've, and should've been something beautiful.

you sat with diluc on a park bench. your scarf was tightly wrapped around your neck, and you shuddered, feeling the cold air brush past your face.

"aren't you cold?" was the first thing you said to break the silence.

"no." diluc replied.

"ah, well, i shouldn't be surprised. for some reason, you never used to get cold." you let out a small laugh, "you're like a walking heater."

"is that why you liked to hold onto me?" he spoke, gaze fixated on the concrete street, as if it was far more interesting than you. "you would say, 'you're warm'. i thought it was just an excuse for you to get hugs."

"it was." you smiled. "i just wanted to hold you, to make sure you were real."

"did you wish i wasn't?" diluc asked, meeting your eyes for the first time in the last ten minutes. "when we had that fight, i mean."

"which one, diluc?"

diluc felt a pang of regret cut through his heart.

"the one we had after we had dinner with my colleagues." he inhaled sharply, shuddering as he breathed out. it wasn't because of the cold, maybe just because of how nervous he was feeling, or because of how he was just a few words away from letting tears roll down his cheeks.

"i always wanted you to be real, 'luc. no matter how hurt i was, i always hoped you'd come back. if it was a dream, i hoped i'd never wake up." you fiddled with your fingers, your cheeks red. "i guess i thought that... if we loved each other, then we'd always come back to each other."

silence engulfed the air, suffocating you both. gripping at your necks, but your pride was too strong to let you beg for mercy, too strong to let you both tear each other apart.

you were too mature for that, now, weren't you? you both had grown up, you couldn't let your emotions handle you. but sometimes, you wished you were a teenager again so you could forget about maturity, and scream, shout, cry, and yell at diluc, telling him how much he had hurt you.

"i... i'm... i don't know what to say, except, i'm so-" diluc began, but you knew what he had to say. and you didn't want to accept it. so you chose to not hear it at all.

"diluc. snow." you looked up to the sky, and he paused.

you watched the snow glisten in the sky, in pretty shapes that crystalised in the sky.

fog hazed over the night skies of mondstadt, and soft flurries of snow quickly rushed to the ground. they started to group together on the ground. white specks drifted in the winds, frigid air bellowing as you shivered.

you felt a wave of warmth rush through your body as diluc put a hand on yours in an attempt to warm you. in that moment, you couldn't help but think how he'd wrap you in his arms before. it just wasn't the same as it was.

"i feel happy," you murmured, tears rolling down your cheeks. "so happy."

diluc didn't have it in him to look at you.

you were close to accepting it all, though. all the heartbreak, all the tears and lonely nights spent agonising. you would accept all the bad times, just like the good ones.

it would just... take a while. you couldn't move on that fast. the would was so deep that it would take time to heal, but in the end, it would, nevertheless, heal.

if you had been sent an invitation to diluc's wedding a year ago, when he broke up with you, you wouldn't have attended. you would've cursed them out of spite.

but it had been a year since you two broke up. since you wrapped up the heartache. so when diluc's wedding invitation was sent to you in your mail, you smiled.

that's how you ended up at the venue of this momentous occassion, though arguably his bride-to-be was not all that happy about having you here.

i mean, you dated diluc longer than she had known him.

and maybe diluc dragging you away to a secluded corner was seemingly innapropriate behaviour at his wedding, but diluc (for once) did not care about what other people thought. he needed to talk to you.

you weren't that interested in anything he had to say. he had told you everything already, even the most hurtful of words. still, guilt doesn't let you end things to make peace with yourself. and it seemed, this same guilt was eating at him.

"i'm sorry, y/n." diluc held your hand tightly, his voice low.

"careful, you wouldn't wanna get caught being handsy with another woman at your wedding, no?" you laughed, letting go of his hand. "i've forgiven you, diluc. not because i excuse whatever you put me through, but because i want to move on from you."

you looked at diluc's bride.

"... congratulations, diluc. she's beautiful." you smiled, cheeks warm.

a beautiful fool.

diluc felt his breath hitch, and he nodded, "yeah. thanks."

it was time for the ceremony, so diluc left you, once again. just like all the times before. but the only difference was, it didn't hurt as much this time.

he had found happiness. and you told yourself, you could too. without him.

you were over diluc. for real, this time. no going back.

he wouldn't look at you the way he used to, he won't hold you the way he used to. that love dissipated into thin air, like it never existed.

you had accepted it, though. it was over. your relationship with him would never come back. but it was terribly beautiful while it lasted, ingraved in your memories. your love in the shade of golden.

published on; 24th may, 2023. writing belongs to @/vellichxrr6782 on tumblr.

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

This post is just some of my current favourites because I don’t think I have the energy to make a master list right now. Personally, I like to read aus so if you're looking for canon stuff this isn't the post for you.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

in pursuit of the study of magic by @thequibblah

An immortal magician au or, "we had a really bad breakup three hundred years ago, but neither of us realised the other is immortal until we met today"

I recommend you listen to About You while reading this

Growing (in love) by casablancas21 (on ao3)

Uni au where "James Potter has a lot going on for him. His uni years have been the best he's ever had and his friendliness, popularity and charm go a long way to place him as the go-to bloke if one's looking for a good time. Nevertheless, his final year of school finds him struggling to keep up with the social energy that once enthralled him. He's having a hard time figuring out how to set his own boundaries and what to do about his future. He's also having a really hard time figuring out Lily Evans."

I must admit that Lily's comebacks are so good I've used some during class debates in sociology this year. Truly, the dialogue and dynamics between characters in this fic are so good. Pretty sure this is the one with the kebab

Golden Waltz by evanspotter (on ao3)

Lily Evans wants to be the best ice dancer in the world, which means she needs to find a dance partner ASAP. After two failed partnerships, her coach gives her one last option: James Potter.

This fic is the reason I neglected revising for midterms. It also caused me to go into a deep dive into watching tapes of Olympic ice dance programs specifically Virtue and Moir.

on the way home by keep_driving (on ao3)

Lily was living abroad and pinning from afar. After an abundance of "phone calls, mixtapes, and long waits," Lily is finally coming home. I believe this fic is inspired by the song You Are In Love.

When I say jily is friends first, and lovers second this is what I mean

Dancing With Our Hands Tied by @athenasparrow

But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t take his eyes off her figure as she moved effortlessly in rhythm with whatever song she had playing. He learned she was wearing more than a t-shirt when she slid across the kitchen on her socks, throwing her head back to sing words James wished he could hear.

OR: In a world where social distancing reigns supreme, two strangers find themselves confined to their apartments with love only a window away.

The way I binged this fic at school between classes. love love love

The Season by @missgryffin

This is a regency (Brighton) au where "James Potter, Duke of Peverell, has returned to London just in time for the season, where Miss Lily Evans is about to make her debut. Only, he’s not looking for a wife, and she’s not particularly interested in a husband."

I love the dialogue between Lily & James as well as Sirius & Lily's relationship (for those who know Brigerton, it reminds me of Ben and El's relationship).

A Misstep Of Fate by hogwartslivy (on ao3)

A muggle historical au where "he waited for her on the edge of ballrooms and in the shadows of parties. He waited to dance with her, to spin her in his arms, to be the one she laughed and smiled with. He thought he was doing the right thing, allowing time to pass them until they were ready, so he had waited. But it seems, he made a misstep. He's waited too long now she's slipping through his fingers."

My boy is stupid and in love but it's okay because she is too. Their idiots, but they’re my idiots

Let Me Love You by @thejilyship

A Princess Diaries au in which "with only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter."

chaos ensues and Emma deserves long service leave (the place would fall apart)

foreigner's god by clarewithnoi (on ao3)

answer to a Tumblr prompt: "we were lovers in a past life" but the current incarnations are enemies-to-lovers, and they don't remember anything from their past selves.

The back and forth between them is so good. low-key I teared up a bit but it has a HEA

An October of Unconventional Courtships by @ghostofbambifanfiction

Two phones. Thirty-one days. Eighteen tuxedos. A Jilytober texting fic.

A classic that everyone should read

Shelf Awareness also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction

Modern bookstore au where "It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there."

One of the first ever jily fics that I read and I fell in love with their dynamic straight away

Careless Texter also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction

Answer to the prompt, “I left my phone number on the bathroom stall wall and you text me about your day and your frustrations for a month & it’s really nice and cute but I still don’t know who you are,” with some twists and differences.

Trackside by @hogwartslivy

James Potter is Formula One’s most impressive young talent, making up one half of the championship winning team at Gryffindor Racing. He’s got a reputation for playing dirty on, and seemingly off, the track but when an article quoting a particularly vulgar comment made by him at last years final Grand Prix is released, it seems he may have pushed it too far. Potter faces two options; fix his public image or give up his seat.

When my two obsessions meet

it's (always) you by @kay-elle-cee

A multiverse of 31 meet-cutes for Jilytober 2023.

Honorable mentions to chapter 3 for high!Lily and chapter 7 for fulling my love for jily regency aus

Key Limes by cgner (on ao3)

Fame au "in which Academy Award winner Lily Evans discovers the periphery of internet fandom and the mysteries of Prince James’s gold star system."

Because James is actually just a giant build a bear and lily is an icon as always.

See You At the Next Stop by kayrma (on ao3)

Lily Evans meets a posh-looking bloke with messy hair on the way back to London, and for once in her life she actually enjoys a train ride. Maybe having a spontaneous seat partner isn't that bad after all.

Shoutout to the notes on this fic because whoever wrote it is a mood

Nom De Plume by @annabtg

James Potter, renowned potioneer, has a secret side career as an erotica writer under the pen name of Scarlett Goldwing. When his latest book starts to take off, and Scarlett is asked to promote it at a public event, he has no other option but to recruit his colleague Lily Evans to pretend to be Scarlett. The only problem is, Lily Evans hates his guts… or does she?

(Rated E for later chapters)

Like did you read that summery because personally I was waiting for the author to complete the story so I could binge it

victorem (requires an ao3 account ) by gryffindormischief (on ao3)

(Olympic) Ice dancing au. "When God closes a door, sometimes you have to jump out a window."

Lily and James (and Sirius) aka the dynamic duo

Phone Service by @confuded-gryffindor

Moddern muggel au "in which James and Lily meet twice, both through their phones."

some with arrows, some with traps by @isahorcrux

Fame au. "Then: James Potter was a beloved child star and the lead of a popular YA franchise. Lily Evans was just getting her big break as his romantic lead in the third installment. While their chemistry got rave reviews, if the rumors are to be believed the two actors can barely stand to be in the same room together.

Now: Lily’s paid her dues and ten years later she’s the most in-demand actress in Hollywood. And James...after back-to-back flops at the box office, he’s just looking for a break and a chance to prove he is the amazing actor everyone thought he was going to be."

Much Ado About Nothing, but make it Jily

The group chat is the level of chaos me and my friends extrude every free line we spend together

Charred Pineaple Margarita's and a Bagel by @chiechie97

The guy at the coffee shop was hot. Hot and he knew her order. But that didn’t mean ANYTHING. Especially when he seemed to know everyone’s order. And besides, Lily is far too busy to be thinking about the hot guy that always has her breakfast waiting for her. Right?

Lily and Remus are me

and i know you too well to say you're perfect by @ofmermaidsandmarauders

“Yeah, you were a pretty big moron.” “Hey, I said idiot!”

Lily's not really sure when James Potter, soccer extraordinaire, took over her life with Harry.

What the summery said

The next few fics are all by @wearingaberetinparis or ritaskeetered (on ao3) who is the reason I joined the jily fandom. Single handedly enabled my obsession and I've never been more thankfull.

The Very Regency (Un)Ladylike Guide To Fortune-Hunting

Regency au. "Without thinking highly either of men or matrimony, marriage had always been her object; it was the only honourable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want." (Jane Austen)

Lily Evans finds herself wanting, or: so her sister seems to believe. While out on the hunt for a fortune - again: that would be Mrs Dursley mostly - the affection of a number of suitors is most welcome. Especially when a young Viscount's heart is set aflame.

Screaming, crying, punch me in the face (Lily's version)

Jump (For My Love)

Royalty au "When you are the Prince of England, the last thing one might expect is to be jumped from behind by the most beautiful woman one has ever seen, who - in turn - seems to have no clue at all and mistakes one for someone else. Surely, Prince James has the right to be disproportionately upset about this. The question is; does he need to?"

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Olympic au. James, being half Greek, had always dreamed of one day going to the Olympics. Now, at his second Winter Olympics – having won a surprising bronze medal at his first one – James has been dubbed Team GB’s hero before the games have even started.

Lily, being the daughter of a waste collector, had always dreamed of one day making her parents proud by exceeding their expectations. Now, she finds herself on a plane to China together with her boss, Minerva McGonagall, and a crowd of winter athletes representing Team GB at the Winter Olympics of 2022.

The paths of James Potter – overenthusiastic snowboarding hero – and Lily Evans – passionate overachiever – cross at the 2022 Winter Olympics when James Potter is asked to be Team GB’s flagbearer at the Opening Ceremony (and quite a few times after that as well).

The repetition of "James, being half Greek..." worked so well for the flow. I don't know how to describe it

A Game Of Thrones

Modern royalty au. Lily Evans had never imagined she would meet Prince James, but when she does at St Andrews' annual Christmas Pub Crawl, her whole world is turned upside down. For who thought that a girl like her - with a sister that reads "Hello" magazine like it's the Bible - would end up with a prince like him?

Euphemia Potter you will always be famous

flowers

A musician au that hilights sexisim in the music industry. "Singer-songwriter Lily Evans has played gig after gig, has been the opening act to many a headliner, but her big break seems a million miles away. When one night – after playing in her friend Marlene McKinnon’s bar – she receives messily scrawled lyrics on a napkin by a certain Monty Python, her life and career are turned upside down, leading her all the way to the Grammy's."

Lily my love, you deserve everything you've worked for

If You Knew Who Was Talking

hopelessly_devoted and genuinely-conflicted form each other’s support system online, cheering one another on as they battle their way through an unrequited (and most definitely unwanted) crush on the person their parents are trying to set them up with.

In the real world, James Potter and Lily Evans find themselves hopelessly devoted and genuinely conflicted when battling their persistent infatuation with the last person they would have ever liked to fall for, stubbornly fighting their family’s and friends’ convictions that they were born to be together.

If only they knew who was talking.

FOOLS the both of them.

glitter in the sky, i’m spinning out waiting for ya

For her thirtieth birthday, Marlene McKinnon and Mary McDonald gift Lily Evans the thrill of a lifetime: a tandem skydive. What no one expected? For Lily to end up in the hospital as a result with her ankle covered in soul marks.

everybody is a sexy baby, and i'm a monster on a hill

Ficwriter au. "James Potter and Lily Evans are fandom famous. Both are prolific and popular writers within the Marauders fandom, but they have completely ignored the other's existence for two years after a Tumblr misunderstanding. Now, they are paired up for the Valentine's Marauders Challenge and - forced to interact - they find out that they may be more compatible than they ever could have imagined."

Is this not the dream?

fastening myself to you with a stitch

Fame au. "Anyone who has never heard the names Lily Evans and James Potter before must be a boomer. The two actors have dominated the box office with their films in the past nine years, more often than not starring opposite one another. Whether tasked to portray mutual pining, passionate hatred or fiery love, Potter and Evans make the screen positively buzz with the taste of opportunity."

it's all happening without me

Normal People (Sally Roony) au. "At school, James and Lily pretend not to know each other. James is wealthy, popular and the star of his school’s football team, while Lily wears second-hand school uniforms, is the school pariah and resented for her smarts. At James’ house, however – meeting there due to Lily’s mother’s housekeeping job – they form an intense connection they desperately try to conceal to the outside world.

A year later, James and Lily both attend Hogwarts University where James has found his feet and made friends he had longed for his entire life, while Lily remains uncertain and haunted by her problematic past.

Throughout their years at university, James and Lily circle each other, trying to resist the magnetic pull between them, whilst coming to the realisation that the both of them may be more religious than they ever thought they were."

Mother knows best. Mary, never question your writing skills because this fic proved that you are a phenomenal writer. The emotions you evoked coverered the entire range of human emotions

It's Coming Down, It's Coming Down Series -

Weird, But Fuckin' Beautiful

When Lily Evans is invited to spend Christmas with the Potters, she finds that she can simply not refuse. It’s an offer she cannot resist for several reasons, the most important one being that she would much rather spend the holidays with Fleamont and Euphemia than she would with Vernon and Petunia.

So what if she had conveniently forgotten (or has she?) about the fact that the Potters have a son - a Formula 1 driver at that - who she can’t seem to get off her mind? (Mightily annoying that, seeing as he has made clear exactly how he feels about her and it’s not exactly giving her any hope.) It’s not as if she can’t control herself.

Or so she very dearly hopes…

Tonight Feels Impossible

But after a night spent together in a hotel's honeymoon suite, she doubts she ever will and fears it might be her downfall.

To All The Kudos I've Left Before

Ficwriter au set in university. "Fanfiction is the guiltiest of pleasures that Lily - twenty years old and studying at Hogwarts University - freely and happily indulges in. She reads fanfiction whenever she has a moment to herself and goes crazy whenever her favourite author - Artemis - updates or uploads another one of his works to Archive Of Our Own. Leaving them comments and the ensuing banter between them back and forth - however fleeting - makes her heart race and preoccupies a fair amount of her thoughts, which - in turn - angers her best friend.

James Potter has never had to suffer from an inferiority complex. His parents and friends are supportive of his every endeavour and this includes his habit to write fanfiction and put his written work out there in the void for his readers to enjoy. His readers are highly supportive too - Lilium being his absolute favourite - that is, until he starts to receive the vilest of comments from a number of guest accounts and starts to question his entire online existence.

What Artemis and Lilium don’t know? That they might know each other a little better than either of them ever bargained for."

The title says it all ❤ ❤❤