#moi... hes like an ex to me.... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shdo-xplosion · 1 year

Text

spaghetti straps - r. shidou ࿐

warnings: 2.4k; fem-bodied reader, coercion, reader wants to fuck more than she’d like to admit, shidou is a little annoying, shidou can lift and hold you (he stronk athlete), dirty talk, semi-public sex, a little plot, p in v, creampie

note: hi! (✿◠‿◠) my first shidou fic (finally) and my contribution to @saintshiba’s sundress szn collab! truly hope everybody enjoys my take on him cause i am so obsessed with him. banner manga cap colored by moi! plspls let me know what you think of my writing! feedback means a lot (≧◡≦)

You aren’t used to wearing things other than your typical track shorts and t-shirts, never one for fashion or dressing up, though you admire anyone who enjoys that kind of stuff.

But it’s summer, and it’s hot, and you’re at a beach house with some friends. Pulling a cotton shirt and shorts on and off over a wet bathing suit is simply not it, so for this weekend you’ve decided to pack sundresses instead of your usual attire.

It’s been 2 days and all the stares you’ve been getting from the guys are still weird, most of confusion and/or surprise, but there are a couple friends, specifically one infuriating, blond-haired insect of a man, who is very obvious in the way he looks at you, magenta eyes half-lidded, salacious smirk stretching across his lips. It’s maddening, made even worse by the fact that he already knows what you’re hiding under your little sundress.

“The yellow suits you,” Shidou purrs in your ear in the kitchen, and you feel one of his fingers wiggle underneath the thin shoulder strap of your bikini top. “Goes nice with the purple suit.”

“Too bad none of it’s for you,” you grumble, trying not to pay him much attention.

He isn’t so much your ex-boyfriend as much as your ex-mistake, a fuck buddy you had the misfortune of catching feelings for only for him to let you down gently. Or, as gently as someone like Shidou could manage.

I still wanna fuck you, though, he had told you thoughtlessly. It’s better than nothing for you, right?

You had immediately cut things off, both hurt and offended that he just assumed his dick would be enough to keep you around. That you were so desperate for him that you would just take what you could get.

No, you hadn’t quite reached that level of infatuation.

You’re still a little bitter about it, a little embarrassed, but you’re also irritated, especially since he insists on coming onto you even now.

“Who’s it for then, hm?” he asks, bending down enough for his breath to hit your neck. It gives you goosebumps. It also makes you squirm away from him.

“For me. ‘Cause it’s easy and breezy.”

“And beautiful… cover girl,” he quotes. You fight not to laugh. “But really, the dresses look good on you. You should let me take some pictures…” he wiggles his eyebrows. “More for my private collection.”

You make a face of disgust. “Ugh, you haven’t deleted those yet?” The thought of him having all kinds of lewd photos of you both disturbs and excites you. Does that mean he still uses them?

“Why would I delete such quality content?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you threaten, “if you post those anywhere, I’ll kill you.”

Shidou grins crookedly. “Kinky.”

With an exasperated huff, you walk away.

~*~

Even with crazy, windblown hair and covered in sweat, you can still sense Shidou watching you. It makes your already heated skin burn even hotter.

Currently you’re situated under an umbrella, just scrolling on your phone while all the guys play a game of beach volleyball. If it can even be called that. They should definitely stick to soccer.

You aren’t surprised when Shidou plops down next to you, dusting up some sand so that it powders your bare thighs.

“White today,” he comments, picking at the hem of your short dress.

All you offer is a noncommittal, “mm,” gritting your teeth at the feeling of his fingertips grazing your skin.

“Makes you look innocent,” he continues. “Which we both know is a lie.”

“Shidou, please drop it. Admire from afar if you have to, but—”

“Miss when you used to call me Ryu.” He nuzzles into your shoulder, inhaling deeply, and when you try to shrug him off, you feel his teeth against your skin. He doesn’t bite hard, but it’s enough to anchor him to you.

“Ryu!” you squeal, shoving his face away.

“Just like that,” he grins before mimicking you ‘Ryu’. “Used to scream my name like that when I’d fuck you real good.”

“God, you are insufferable!”

He’s also turning you on, much to your disappointment. Hand slowly slipping under your dress, a small nibble to your earlobe.

“I know all your spots, baby. Just give in. You know you want to.” He’s using that seductive voice that always makes your breath quicken and your eyes dilate. Everything is brighter even with your sunglasses.

“See, you’re already spreading your legs for me.”

He’s right. Your knees aren’t pressed together anymore, leaving a gap between your thighs.

“There are people around, Ryuusei,” you tell him sternly, a last ditch effort to spur his advances.

You aren’t the least bit surprised when his only counter is a petulant, “so?”

His hand slides up further until his fingers brush against your covered pussy, and you bite your lip, ashamed that you’ve let him get to you like this.

“Sand,” you whine. “Don’t want…”

He hums in consideration then turns onto his back, rolling and propelling himself straight to his feet in one fluid motion. Annoying.

“To the showers, then,” he says, pulling you up.

He ignores your mumbling as he leads you to the little shower, on the beach for the purpose of rinsing sand off of sticky bodies. A little blue curtain is all that will block you from view. You’re supposed to keep your bathing suits on after all.

The water pressure isn’t strong, but it is enough to get the sand off both of you. You swear out loud as you pull your bottoms off. The dress is staying on; there’s no way you’re getting entirely naked. Shidou, on the other hand, shamelessly pushes his trunks all the way off, letting them pool on the wooden plans right next to yours.

You gasp when he suddenly spins you around, finding the strings of your top and tugging them loose.

“Get this shit off.”

He yanks the material over your head, turning you to face him again, and groans when he looks down at your chest. With your white dress entirely soaked, your hard nipples show through the sheerness. Shidou immediately starts groping you, his head falling back like he’s already on the verge of cumming just from playing with your tits.

It feels good, his palms rubbing over your sensitive buds before he pinches each one. You’d rather skip the foreplay, though, eager to have something inside you while also nervous about being caught.

To move things along you reach between your legs, running your middle finger between your folds and hating yourself for how wet you are. Like you’d said the other day, water makes a terrible lube, but if you’re already ridiculously slick, it doesn’t really matter.

You slip two fingers into your hole and scissor them apart, well aware that it’d be unwise to take Shidou without any prep. His cock is too pretty, something to be proud of, and he is. It’s thick and long, fat mushroom shaped head perfect for dragging against your walls.

“Yeah, you want it now, don’t ya?” he teases.

“Don’t push your luck.” It’s meant to be a warning, but you’re too breathless for it to have any weight.

Shidou abandons your chest in order to guide your hand away from yourself, replacing it with his own and fucking you with his longer fingers. He hikes one of your legs up, holding it to his hip, and as he stretches you out, he ruts his pelvis forward.

“Okay, I’m good,” you tell him. “I’m good, I’m ready.”

“Oh? Baby girl all cock hungry now?”

“Ryuuu,” you whine, grinding down on his hand.

“Only ‘cause you’re making such pretty sounds for me.”

He grabs your other leg, hoisting you up with the strength gained from years of dedicated workouts. You shift in his grasp until you feel the tip of his cock rub against your cunt. The amount of times the two of you have fucked, you know each others bodies well, and it’s almost second nature for you to guide him into your hole without the use of your hands.

Your mouth hangs open as he slides inside, the muscles in Shidou’s arms straining as he lowers you on his cock. You’re relying on him entirely. He’ll be in control as he supports you, and you’ll be completely helpless.

He doesn’t ask if you’re ready, if you’ve braced yourself, just starts bouncing you up and down. His fingers dig into the fat of your thighs, definitely creating bruises, and you steady yourself by tangling fingers in his hair. He’s so fucking hot like this, water running down his toned frame, blonde strands plastered to his face.

The way that you’re gripping his hair pushes his face into your tits, and Shidou groans like a porn star, lapping up the droplets that cover your chest.

Short moans are forced out if you with every bounce. Hn, hn, hn until Shidou starts moving you more aggressively and your jaw drops. Ah, ah, ah.

“Missed this sweet pussy,” Shidou pants. “Take my dick so good. Think she missed me too.”

You’re not a huge fan of him personifying your literal vagina, but you’re too far gone to chastise him for it. In fact, you agree, nodding and huffing, “I do, I do…”

His thrusts are shallow because of the position, but he still feels so good as he bullies your soft, gummy walls. The way you’re wrapped around him has your hard clit rubbing against his pelvis, the coarse hairs at the base of his cock beginning to rub you raw in a delicious way. You always did like a little pain with your pleasure, and Shidou is amazing at delivering just that.

“Really should open this curtain. Let everyone see how gorgeous you look getting fucked like this.”

“Don’t you dare,” you gasp.

“You sure? You don’t wanna put on a show for the guys? I bet they’d all get jealous.”

“Ryu, please!”

He bites the top of one of your tits then relents, rolling his striking eyes. “Fine.” His thick eyelashes are dripping with water, so pretty. “But only if you cum for me.”

You wouldn’t be able to if he hadn’t been fucking you so perfectly, cockhead massaging your g-spot, clit now overstimulated.

“Think you can do that for me, sweetness?”

You nod. “Are… are you close too?”

“‘’m always close when I’m fucking you,” he tells you. “Just looking at you gets me hard.”

Vulgar but flattering.

“You want me inside? Stuff this pussy full of cum?”

“Nnng, pleeease.”

You shouldn’t let him, shouldn’t reward him after how much he’s annoyed you on this vacation. But you love the feeling of him dripping out of you, thick and warm, enough to spill down your thighs. If you weren’t on birth control, you would never. As it is…

“Alright, cum for me then,” he commands. “Wanna feel your cunt milk me.”

Heat spreads from your pussy to the place between your hips, pooling into your tummy and traveling to your toes.

“Oh god, Ryu,” you sob, “I’m… don’t stop…”

He spreads his legs, squatting slightly so that his thighs can support some of your weight as he quickly rocks back and forth, his fat cock pistoning in and out of your spasming hole.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“m’gonna blow,” Shidou huffs. “Gonna fill you up… take my cum, baby, take all of it.”

It’s a subtle sensation, him spilling inside of you. You can’t feel every individual rope of cum, but you can feel your pussy getting fuller and fuller, stretching you even further. And then, you can feel it begin to leak out of you, coating Shidou’s cock as he pulls out until only his tip remains inside of you.

“Still as good as I remember,” he remarks, lifting you until he slips out of you before setting you back on wobbly legs.

He’s right, unfortunately. The best lay you’ve ever had.

“It was… nice,” you mumble regretfully. “Glad we’re already in a shower.”

“Convenient. Since you always get so messy,” he smirks.

“Because you make me messy.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

You rinse off the slimy fluid dripping down the insides of your legs, retrieve your bathing suit from the ground. The bottoms are easy enough to wiggle back into, but you have to ask Shidou for help with your top.

“You look so good without it, though, he says, but when you cast him a glare, he concedes. “Fine.”

As he ties it back around you, you can’t help but ask, “is it just the sundresses that did it for you? You like them that much?”

“I mean, I do like little dresses like this,” he confirms, trailing his hands down your ribs and pulling you back into him. “But anything you wear gets my dick hard. My jerseys, pajamas, your boring t-shirts n’ shit.”

“Boring but comfy.”

“And still sexy cause you’re the one wearing ‘em.”

Your stomach flutters in a familiar way, butterflies accompanied by dread. “Careful. You’re starting to sound awfully sweet, Ryu.”

You feel him shrug, his arms locked around you and his lips pressed to the skin behind your ear.

“What can I say? I missed you.”

You can’t even formulate a response to that, refusing to get your hopes up. The vacation will be over soon, and Shidou will go back to being a fuckboy. You’re not about to let him hurt you again.

So you shake your head and step out of his arms then bend down to grab his swim trunks off the ground.

“Put your pants back on,” you sigh, and, taking a page out of his book, you leave him with a casualness that you hope will mess with his head in the coming days. Just like this whole encounter is sure to mess with yours.

2023©️shidou-x. please do not plagiarize, edit, or share my work to any other platforms.

#shidou ryuusei x reader #shidou ryuusei smut #shidou x reader #shidou smut #bllk x reader #sundressszncollab

497 notes · View notes

raplinesmoon · 8 months

Text

Après Moi, Le Deluge (JHS x F!Reader)

pairing: Hoseok x afab!reader genres/au/rating: angst, smut, some fluff, mafia au, sort of arranged marriage au, exes au, 18+ summary: It was one night. One night where Hoseok sought refuge from the storm outside, from the life he led, from the past that haunted him. And where else does fate lead him but back into your arms?

word count: 8.2k

warnings: the mafia, mentions minor character death, cursing, smoking, alcohol use, use of weapons, strained relationships with parents, mental health issues, mentions threats against people Hoseok cares about, brief, non-graphic depiction of blood and injuries, breakups, makeups, a cameo by one Xu Minghao, Hoseok and OC are both very closed off and bad at communicating, Hoseok is lowkey an asshole for most of this, happy-ish ending, smut warnings: making out, fingering (fem receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, marking, teeny bit of cockwarming

a/n: Hello it is me, profusely apologising because there is no reason this should have taken this long to write, other than I had the worst case of writer's block ever, but I missed Hoseok and I needed to see this through. This fic is set in the same universe as Doom Boy, my Namjoon mafia fic! You don't necessarily have to read Doom Boy to read this, but it may help some of the moments mentioned here make sense! The title is a reference to a famous saying by King Louis XV of France, or if you're me, season 1 episode 11 of The Originals. I hope you all enjoy <3

listen to the playlist here!

The rain slams down on the pavement, rendering the soles of Hoseok’s shoes even more sodden than they’d previously been. A cold, sticky feeling settles across his spine, and he heaves for breath, wishing he could just stop and take a break. But he can’t. He has to keep moving. Resisting the urge to shiver and warm himself up, he rounds the corner.

The day had started off normal enough. Hoseok had been assigned patrol duty for the day by Namjoon, a task he was more than familiar with. After the collapse of the Kim empire and his father’s death, Namjoon had returned to clean up the family business. And he was doing a damn good job at it, training the younger ones like Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook in how to run a business.

But there was more to this than a business, and Namjoon knew that well enough. Someone had to be around to air out the dirty laundry, to clean up the streets. And who better for the job than Hoseok?

He was used to it anyway, more comfortable around knives and guns than he’d ever been around people who weren’t Namjoon, Yoongi, or Seokjin. It was partly the reason he’d been sent out tonight, to monitor the slimy activities that took place under the cover of night.

Yet sometimes, the downpour got the best of Hoseok. He hadn’t been expecting the Choi cronies to spot him, much less for them to be armed. Luckily they were as thick-skulled as Hoseok expected them to be, and he’d been able to craft a quick escape. For the time being.

But it wouldn’t last for long. Hoseok knew the men would be on his tail all night, and as much as he wanted to call for backup, he didn’t feel like bothering Namjoon, Yoongi, or their families, at this time of night. He wouldn’t have had a problem bothering Seokjin, but that fucker had run the moment he’d shot up Namjoon’s father.

Looking around, he falters. The buildings around him loom ominously, stretching much taller than he’s used to, the lights from the highest floors creating artificial stars against the cloudy backdrop of the sky. Hoseok gathers that he must be in the swanky part of town. He scoffs, knowing from personal experience the rich were no better than the mobs and gangs they pretended to look down upon, licking at their bootstraps whenever the necessity arose.

Still, he decides it’s better to take cover. He spots the sleeping security guard from outside one of the buildings, and slips in, shaking the raindrops from his hair. Making his way to the elevators at the end of the lobby, his mind ran with plans of how he’d clean up the mess with the Choi men in a way that Namjoon would approve of.

Which is why he misses the other person entering the elevator at the same time as him, instead collapsing against the railing and letting out a loud sigh, rubbing at his eyes.

“H-Hoseok?” the voice that calls out to him is quiet, barely above a whisper. But its familiarity sends a chill down Hoseok’s spine. It’s a voice he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes open slowly, and he sees his shocked reflection mirrored in the ones directly across from him, eyes that he’d never been able to forget. The way they look at him now is the same way they’d been the last time he saw you, on a similarly cloudy day.

The eyes of his former fiancée.

The doors of the elevator screech shut, the sound doing nothing to drown out the pounding of your heart. The soft tiny plops of raindrops echo on the grey floor, falling from Hoseok’s hair as he freezes at the sound of your voice.

You suck in a breath, lungs desperately searching for air, unable to squeak out anything beyond his name. Brows furrowing, you check him for any signs of injury, relieved when you find nothing but his blank eyes blinking back at you. You didn’t have to ask him where he’d been tonight. Both of you already knew.

It infuriates you that even after everything, after all this time, he still manages to have this effect on you. You hate how you can’t take your eyes off the lean curve of his neck, or the tiny mole above his heart-shaped smile.

A chill runs down your spine, despite having never stepped foot out in the rain.

“Why are you…” your throat feels heavy, struggling to get the words out, to ask him why he ended up here of all places. Especially when you made it clear you never wanted to see him again after the last time.

“Choi’s men were tailing me, I had to get them off my back,” he barks, immediately regretting his harsh tone when he looks into your weary eyes, on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry,” he adds on, more gently this time. “If I’d have known, I would never…”

Never what? Never managed to infiltrate the one place you thought you could be free of him, from the past the two of you shared?

Your shoulders slump against the panel, and you realize you’d never pressed the button to go up, too consumed by his presence. Finally managing to muster up the focus, you turn away, hearing the elevator creak to life.

“You’re always sorry. How can I be sure that this time, you mean it?”

Hoseok is annoyed. First of all, this damn elevator is taking nearly too long to go anywhere, and he longs for escape from this metallic box that’s imprisoning you both. Second of all, your words cut at him, sharper than any knife and hotter than any bullet any of Choi’s men could have sent his way tonight.

As far as he remembers, you’d been the one to end it. You’d been the one to walk away from your arrangement.

He doesn’t know why he grits his teeth, biting down to combat the throbbing pain in his temples. You were supposed to be gone, your goodbye delivered in the same way the designer bags and packages piled up at your doorstep - neat, polished, shallow, the ties that had brought you together unraveling before they’d even had a chance to be joined properly.

Unfinished business. That’s what you were. And Hoseok hated unfinished business. But somehow, he’d never managed to hate you. You’d never given him a fair chance.

. . .

Hoseok shrugged the wife beater over his head with a grunt, immediately turning around to see if he’d woken up his sleeping companion, but she remained unfazed, her soft snores echoing into the pillow.

He lets his eyes linger over her body appreciatively one last time before he slips on his leather jacket and is out the door. For a brief moment, his hand twitches, yearning to reach into his pocket and call Namjoon for old times’ sake, detailing every last detail of his lascivious romp. The thought is abandoned immediately, Hoseok’s mood souring at the thought of his former best friend. Namjoon had no trouble leaving all of them behind, so why should he even bother? Instead, he reaches into his other pocket, his frenzied emotions finally calming down when he pulls out the lighter. Ducking under an awning, he checks his surroundings for anything suspicious before affirming that the coast is clear, lighting up and taking a drag. The smoke drifts away on the nighttime breeze, and Hoseok follows, roaming the city streets.

It’s lonely at this hour, not another soul in sight, but Hoseok prefers it that way. Gone are the days when he and his friends would run through the city, stealing cars and honking horns at everyone for fun. Now, shit had hit the fan big time, and there was no room for fun anymore. With Namjoon gone, Hoseok, along with Seokjin and Yoongi, had been sucked into the tangled web of duties he’d left behind, each stepping up in their own way.

Holding a gun in his hands for the first time had been a sobering experience for Hoseok. It rattled him that if he pressed down on the trigger, so many things could change in a split second. He’d heard the higher-ups in the organization rave with glee about how much fun it was putting the city’s other families in line, Namjoon’s father at the head of them. And for a brief moment, Hoseok understood what it was that Namjoon had run away from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still pissed off about it though.

His lips turn up in a smile when he takes in the graffiti on the building in front of him, thinking back to his younger, more rebellious self, before faltering. Someone else was there.

He wonders if you’re cold, the thin satin gown doing nothing to protect you from the chill, and he wants to laugh at the contrast between his well-worn leather jacket and the jewels dripping from your ears. They must cost a few thousands of dollars, money he’d never had in his pocket. His eyes scan around for someone, anyone – a boyfriend, or a husband maybe. But you’re alone.

Nobility has never been Hoseok’s forte - Namjoon and Seokjin had always been the womanizers, and poor Yoongi had been in love with the same woman for over ten years, but he clears his throat, prompting you to turn around, eyes widening at your company.

If he catches a glimpse of unshed tears in your eyes, he doesn’t say anything.

“Kids these days, huh? They’ll do anything to cause a little chaos,” he quips, a sinking feeling building up in his chest when you don’t respond.

“Ma’am,” he grapples with whether he should ask for your name, “do you need me to walk you home?”

“Did you read it?” your voice is quieter than he expects, yet he draws closer, wanting to hear more of it. Coming to stand beside you, he takes in the captivating features of your face, made all the more alluring by the shadows cast across them.

Following your gaze, he looks at the mural on the wall. A giant wave, Hosukai-style, crashing into a set of words. “After me, the flood,” your voice whispers, and Hoseok feels a rush of emotion at the way you say it, his mind circling back to everything that had happened in the past few years - the dark cloud that had settled over all their lives with Namjoon leaving, the city’s underbelly coming to life, crawling out of the woodwork.

“I have to go,” you interrupt him, heels clacking against the pavement, before Hoseok’s gaze turns sharply on you, the desperation in his eyes begging you not to go. Come sunrise, he’d be forced back into the same grim routine, but right now, it felt nice, standing here with you.

“Will you be okay getting home alone?” he asks, grappling for any chance to prolong the moment.

“My driver is around the corner,” you tell him. “Thank you for keeping me company, –”

“Hoseok,” he fills you in, his chest aching with the desire to ask for your own name, but you’re already gone.

. . .

Hoseok wakes up the next morning to the rattling of the blinds, the sunlight causing him to immediately shut his eyes and bite back a groan. There was only one person who’d have access to his apartment at this hour – and exploit it.

“Eomma?” he rasps, burrowing his head further into the sheets. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you forget Hoseok-ah? Hurry up and get dressed, everyone’s waiting! You have five minutes.”

Forget what? His mother’s fussing continues in the background as she leafs through his closet, no doubt trying to find him a suitable outfit amongst the many pairs of ripped denim and oversized shirts he prefers on a day-to-day basis. Hoseok wracks his brain, trying to remember what could have called for such an occasion, but comes up empty, his mother’s stern warning echoing in his ears.

As per usual, if it had anything to do with the organization, he’d do best not to ignore it.

Slipping on the stark white shirt and tie she’d chosen, the fabric itches against his skin, and he rakes his fingers through his hair, attempting to comb the mess into something somewhat presentable. He’s sure there was little to be done about the bags under his eyes, and the faint smell of tobacco emanating from him, and hoped that whoever these important guests were, they wouldn’t catch onto his late-night activities from the previous day.

Stumbling into the hallway, Hoseok hears the faint chatter of voices, his father’s bellowing laugh a stark contrast to his mother’s delicate titter, and is immediately confused. Conversations with the bosses of the organization weren’t usually so… enthusiastic.

When he rounds the corner to his living room, he stops in his tracks. Sitting next to his mother and father is another older couple he doesn’t recognize. They reek of wealth that his family could never even imagine, he notes, the polished Italian leather of the man’s shoes and the older woman’s massive diamond ring speaking for themselves. But he could honestly care less. Because to their left side, sitting on his favorite armchair, is you. The woman from in front of the mural. You’re clad in a simple sundress today, but you still manage to be nothing short of breathtaking against the backdrop of the sun’s rays.

“There you are, Hoseok!” his father beckons him over jovially, but Hoseok remains frozen. “This is Mr. and Mrs. ____, and their daughter ____.”

Hoseok’s turns his gaze to his father, watching him recoil at the sharpness present in his son’s expression, a thousand unspoken questions lingering on his lips as to why these people were here, what purpose they had in his home, his space.

“We’d like for the two of you to get to know each other,” your mother speaks up with a smile so wide, he’d assume it’d been plastered onto her face.

“Why?” he finally manages to whistle out in between grit teeth, looking only at you. But you don’t meet his eyes. Instead, your gaze is looking out his window, at the city beyond, the same loneliness from last night ever present in your eyes.

“Because,” his father continues uncertainly, fidgeting the glass of wine in his hands, “___ is going to be your wife.”

You can feel Hoseok’s eyes glaring into the back of your head as he follows you wordlessly down the hallway. Moments pass before you come to a stop outside your apartment, and you hear the faint stumble of Hoseok’s boots as he stops unexpectedly in his tracks. His warm breath fans against the back of your neck for a brief moment before he straightens with a grunt, and you resist the urge to shiver, despite having never stepped foot into the rain.

The lock clicks, and he follows you inside. You can hear him rustle behind you as he struggles to remove his coat and boots, but you look straight ahead, hoping the darkness can hide how your fingernails are digging into your palm.

“I won’t stay long,” his low voice breaks the silence. “Just until the storm passes.”

“Please,” you manage to muster up your most polite sounding voice. “Have a seat. I can get you something, maybe some water, o-or a cup of tea…”

You want to curse your voice for wobbling in his presence, hating the way he still affected you even after all this time apart. Your brain bades you to walk away instinctively, and so you pad into the kitchen, wanting to put distance in between you and Hoseok so he can’t hear the rapid fluttering of your heart. The noise pounds in your ears as you rattle around in the cupboards, cursing when you realized you’d forgotten to turn on the light. It seemed embarrassing to do it now, and so you reach aimlessly, looking for some coffee.

The pot bubbles, and in mere moments, you’re clutching two steaming mugs, finding your way back onto the living room. Hoseok has settled himself onto your couch, taking extra care not to rest his soaked shirt against the back of it, instead hunched over and dangling an unlit cigarette from his fingertips.

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you’d be okay with me…” he gestures to it, twirling it around in his fingers. “I know you don’t like the smell.”

You’re unsure whether to be touched that he remembers, or uneasy at the way he says it so monotonously, as if you’d still judge him for something so mundane when so much else had happened in between you.

“Here,” you set down the coffee in front of him, taking the seat directly opposite. “It’ll help take the edge off.”

The warm liquid burns your throat as you rush to take a sip, and you nearly sputter trying to keep it down. Over the rim of your cup, Hoseok remains frozen, his own mug steaming and untouched. His dark eyes bore into you, studying your face, and you feel your cheeks begin to burn.

If he notices the bags under your eyes, he says nothing. The same way he says nothing when he probably remarks at your simplistic clothes and lack of jewelry, a far cry from the expensive dresses and diamonds he’d been used to seeing you in.

“Were you about to go out?” Hoseok asks, and the question catches you off guard. “I’m sorry if I stopped you from going somewhere.”

“Or meeting someone.” The last part is a hushed whisper, mumbled underneath his breath, in the hopes that you wouldn’t catch him. But you had. You wish he’d stop apologizing. It makes you feel guilty when you shouldn’t be, like he’s trying and you’re shutting him out, when in reality it’d been the exact opposite.

All of a sudden, your phone buzzes to life, a text message lighting up the screen. You freeze when you see who it’s from, quickly snatching your phone and cursing in your head. Minghao was a friend of a friend, the two of you running into each other a number of times over the past couple of weeks, before he’d finally plucked up the courage to ask you for a coffee date.

You’d told him you’d think about it, and now here he was, lighting up your phone to ask you about your decision. Of course, how was he supposed to know that the reason you’d been holding off was the very man sitting in your living room, whom you’d almost married, and still couldn’t seem to let go?

Clutching your phone to your chest, you turn it to silent, setting it down beside you. Hoseok’s eyes are alight with curiosity, his lips turned up in a faint smirk, as though he’s remembering his statement from earlier.

You take another sip, willing the caffeine to give you some strength, to rein in the bare threads of this conversation back to your control.

“How are your parents?”

Hoseok is taken aback by the question. He hadn’t expected it from you. There had once been a time where you’d been bright eyed and eager, wanting to know everything about him, bombarding him with question after question every time you were together. And yet somehow, he’d never managed to give you the time of day, always giving brusque answers and half-hearted excuses that there were other things that needed his attention.

He knew it was just a poor attempt to fill the silence, but his heart lurches at the thought that there’s so much you don’t know anymore. Namjoon coming back, Seokjin running away, the life that Hoseok knew being turned inside out. What’s more unsettling is the fact that he yearns to tell you, despite knowing he’d lost the privilege to do so.

“They’re okay. Doing well,” he lies through his teeth. “We all are. How about yours?”

He thinks it’s an innocent question, but he watches your fingers blanch as you grip the mug so tight, he thinks it’ll break.

“I wouldn’t know,” you whisper out softly, and his heart stops. “I haven’t spoken to them since– you know.”

Hoseok feels dizzy at your confession. What do you mean you hadn’t spoken to them? Suddenly, it all begins to make sense in his head. The fact that he hadn’t expected to run into you tonight, because he hadn’t expected you to live alone, with your austere clothes and hair tossed up into a messy bun. It was so different from the woman he’d known, the dazzling one he’d written off as hollow in his mind, the one he was incapable of forming a real relationship with.

And here you were, living the exact opposite of the cozy life he’d painted for you in his head. He thought you’d be fine, that you’d move on, your family offering you up to the next prospect that came along. And you’d accept them, like you’d accepted Hoseok with all his flaws, not caring that he could barely give you what you deserved.

His thoughts flash back to the last conversation you had, tears streaming down your face as you sobbed.

I can’t live like this anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and he watches annoyance flash across your face. He knows he’s done nothing but apologize this entire time, but it probably isn’t even worth a damn. No consolation would ever make up for losing someone that meant everything to you. He’d known that when Namjoon had run away.

“Hey,” you set the mug down, leaning over the table. For a brief second, he sees your hand reach out blindly in the darkness, almost as if it’s searching for his, but you withdraw just as quickly. “I’m okay. I really am.”

“I wish you’d stop pretending,” Hoseok blurts out, and he watches you jolt in surprise. “Why do you always have to pretend like everything’s okay, like nothing affects you? Is it the society training? Or do you really just not care about what happened at all?”

You chew the inside of your cheek, mulling over Hoseok’s words in your head.

“The same way you can pull the trigger on someone and be able to lie in your bed and fall asleep,” you seethe, a venom that Hoseok has never heard in your voice.

“I knew who you were Hoseok. I knew what kind of man I was marrying. You think it didn’t affect me? You think I wasn’t scared out of my wits because of what you did, what other people could do to you?”

You rise up, palms quivering as you open and close them, strolling over to the window. Hoseok watches your shoulders shake before they slump completely, and he knows that you’re crying.

He’s up before he can stop himself, feet ready to walk out the door. He’d fucked up the moment he’d stayed in the elevator with you, all the ugly feelings between you coming to a head, ones he’d struggled so hard to keep buried.

But his body betrays him, instead leading him right behind. He pauses until he’s just close enough that if he reaches out, he’d be able to grab your arm and turn you around to face him. But he waits instead.

“I did what I did because I realized I was chasing a ghost,” you huff out, resignation in your tone. “I wanted you to be someone you weren’t. I wanted you to care so badly. But you didn’t. I don’t want any part in whatever you’re caught up in, Hoseok. Whatever has a hold on you so badly that you couldn’t even look beyond your cynicism to give me a chance.”

“I just want to survive.”

Hoseok grips the bathroom sink, knuckles turning white. His cell phone clatters on the counter beside him and he has to keep from heaving. This whole thing was a mess – no one had counted on Namjoon coming back. Even less so on him refusing to take up his father’s mantle. And so the threats continued – the words from the anonymous phone call still ringing in his ear, your name echoing across the line.

While he didn’t know what he felt for you, or whether he could even marry you, Hoseok knew you were an innocent person. You didn’t deserve to be the victim of your parents’ greed, them using you to bury their secrets in the hands of even more powerful people. You deserved gardens full of flowers and meals together every night, not coming home to an empty bed. Or a fiancé who couldn’t spare a moment during the entire night to even dance with you.

He’s so lost in his brooding that he doesn’t hear the door the click behind him, the soft tapping of heels on the floor coming up behind him.

“Is something wrong?” you ask him gently, and he feels the bristle of your hand on his jacket.

So much was wrong. You couldn’t even begin to understand.

“It’s fine,” he clears his throat, straightening up to adjust his jacket. “I’ll need to leave soon. I can have the car stay behind for you.”

The farther away he got from you, the better. That way no one could hurt you – or him.

“I can go with you,” your voice echoes from beside him, “I was getting tired anyway.”

Hoseok turns to face you, watching you recoil at the red rimming his eyes, the bags underneath them becoming even more prominent in the dim lighting of the bathroom.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to reach for the single strand of hair that has managed to escape your polished bun, but he watches you suck in a breath, lips parting in surprise.

Before he knows it, your face is drawing in closer, and he can smell the rosé on your breath. Your lips barely ghost against his, and he has to fight every nerve ending not to grab your hand and run away from here, somewhere where he wasn’t Hoseok, and you weren’t ____, and you didn’t need protecting from everything around you – most of all him.

His paralysis slowly melts away and he’s pushing you away without realizing, the door to the bathroom suddenly materialising in front of him.

“Like I said,” he doesn’t bother turning around, knowing his heart would twist at whatever expression he found on your face. “I’ll have the car stay behind for you.”

Before you can wrestle with the weight of your confession to Hoseok, a hand is clamping over your mouth. Caught in a silent scream, you turn your eyes to see Hoseok lifting a finger to his lips, willing you to stay quiet. And that’s when you hear them. The voices.

Raucous laughter echoes through the hallway, tinged with malevolent glee. The air around you feels cold, a breeze at the base of your spine, and you instinctively curl into Hoseok.

“Come out, come out,” the disembodied voice cackles from the hallway. “Are you hiding from us, Jung? Found some poor rich girl to use as a body shield?”

Your hand seizes Hoseok’s wrist clamped against your mouth, nails digging into his arm, the fear taking over. Slowly, his wrist lowers, slipping to take your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?”

He’s so quiet you almost can’t tell he’s said it at all. You nod reluctantly, eyes continuing to dart to the door.

“Go hide underneath the bed. Lock the door. I may or may not come back but please stay inside. Don’t come looking for me.”

His voice is clipped, the faint hint of nerves colouring his tone, but his eyes are filled with a resoluteness you know all too well. You’d spent the better part of over a year staring into them, hoping they’d look back. And now they finally were.

“Be safe.” Your voice comes out louder than you’d intended, but there’s no anger in Hoseok’s expression. All he does is nod, and then you turn, stumbling down the hallway to your room, never bothering to look back until you hear the door click behind you.

. . .

Hoseok’s heart pounds in his chest, a strange pain settling in his ribs – he never expected to be in this position again. His sense of duty had always been his biggest downfall – and while you were no longer his, he owed it to you to make sure he gave you exactly what you’d asked him for – the chance to survive, to come out on the other side of this. That’s why he had to settle this once and for all.

Choi’s cronies linger at the other end of the hallway, too dumb to notice Hoseok slipping out of your door, reaching for the revolver he’d kept hidden in his coat pocket. A chill settles in his bones as he runs his fingers over the metal.

The brief events of the night play over in his head – the rain pounding against the pavement, the ding of the elevator, the now-cold mug of coffee that sat on your coffee table. And then there was you – your eyes, the softness of your skin, the faint smell of gardenias that lingered on your skin.

And it hits Hoseok that while he was very much alive – he’d been in mourning. Mourning for the friendships he’d never be able to recover, for the youth that had been taken away from him. But most of all, Hoseok’s heart mourns for the relationship he’d never gotten to have with you. The glass walls he’d so carefully put up around himself shatter, making way for a torrential deluge.

After me, the flood.

He remembers the first night you’d met, how he’d been drawn to you without even trying, the portrait of the wave. He remembers the months that passed afterwards, where you drew closer to him and he drew back. He remembers the regret he’d buried deep in his heart for not kissing you back the night of the gala, not knowing he’d never get another chance.

But most of all, he remembers the somber expression on your face the day you’d ended things, pressing the engagement ring back into his hands, the very same ring that was still sitting in the first drawer of his nightstand.

Choi’s men finally perk up, noticing Hoseok’s solitary figure lingering at the end of the hallway, smirks twisting on their grotesque faces. A shot rings out, and Hoseok thinks of you now, hiding under your bed. And then he charges.

The alleyway was grim at this time of day, the sunlight barely able to reach beyond the towering skyscrapers, the clouds casting everything in grey. Rain fell softly from the sky. You clutch your coat tighter around you, unable to stop looking at the mural of the wave.

So much had changed since you’d first seen it. And yet it was still the same.

You know Hoseok from the thud of his boots against the pavement, coming up beside you. His head turns, an eyebrow raised in your direction, wondering why you’d asked to meet him here of all places.

You avoid his eyes, fingers clasping around the blue velvet in your pocket. His eyes widen with surprise when he sees the box, confusion marring his handsome face.

A knot forms in your chest when you watch the confusion turn into alarm as you press the box into his hand, the dazzling diamond no longer on your left finger.

“I don’t understand,” he grunts, breath visible in the cold air.

“We can’t do this anymore, Hoseok. I can’t do this. I can’t live like this.”

“Was it something that I did?” he questions you, desperation creeping into his voice.

You scoff, watching him flinch, pain on his face.

“No, it’s the opposite. It’s what you haven’t ever been able to do. It’s been an entire year, Hoseok. I’ve watched you answer every phone call that comes your way, disappear into the night to do god knows what, run whenever your friends call. And in that entire time, have you ever thought about us? About the future?”

You take a deep breath.

“I know that neither of us chose this, but Hoseok, we were engaged. Did that mean anything to you?”

He squares his shoulders, fists clenching at his sides, a tick in his jaw.

“You don’t understand. I-I’m not good for you, ___. I dont think I’ll ever be. There’s too much that’s happened, too much I’ve lost. But please don’t walk away like this.

“I thought it’d be enough,” you whisper, and Hoseok freezes. You didn’t know he’d heard you.

“I thought me loving you would be enough for the both of us. But it’s not. I need more. I need someone who I know will come home to me every night. But what I need even more than that, is for you to let me walk away so I can breathe again. So I can be myself.”

Your eyes are just as sad as the first time Hoseok saw them, and all of a sudden, you remark at how stagnant the two of you had been together.

“Hoseok please, I know I can’t ask you to do it if you love me, but if you’ve ever cared about me, even the tiniest bit, let me go.”

You watch him open the box, gazing at the ring. Moments pass by before he slips it into his own pocket, his eyes flitting to the wave as he gives you a small smile, the most genuine one you’d ever seen.

“Goodbye, ____.

Hoseok’s fist rattles against the door, before he slumps over, heaving for breath. The pain in his side licks at him like the flames of a fire. He hisses when he presses a hand to it, eyes widening when it comes away covered in blood. Those fuckers had managed to get him. Shit.

His eyes are about to close when the door springs open, the wide eyes of Kim Namjoon taking in his battered figure.

“Hobi, what the fuck?” Namjoon seethes, offering him an arm and pulling him inside. Slinging an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder, the two of them hobble to Namjoon’s kitchen, the burning in Hoseok chest causing him to let out a loud groan.

“Hyun is sleeping,” Namjoon chastises him, and Hoseok bites his tongue, remembering that this Namjoon was dealing with a pregnant wife and a toddler. “You gonna tell me what the hell happened, or do I have to force it out of you?”

“I made a mistake, Namjoon. I went somewhere I shouldn’t have tonight. I fucked up, but I-I didn’t mean to I swear…”

Hoseok feels himself shake as the words pour out, the ruined mission the furthest thing from his mind. He tells Namjoon everything – from being tailed to running into to you, to how he’d left, not knowing whether you were okay or not.

“That was a dick move,” Namjoon huffs.

“Excuse me?” Hoseok looks up at his best friend, who looks more pissed off than he’s ever seen him.

“I said what I said. That was a dick move, just leaving her like that.”

“I don’t need a lecture on running away from you, Namjoon-ah.”

Namjoon wipes away the blood on his side, and Hoseok bites his tongue at the sting of the alcohol, before slumping into the chair next to him.

“You’re an idiot, Jung Hoseok. You’ve been so afraid of letting yourself feel things for so long, and I know it’s because you think that everyone around you is going to leave, or that you’ll lose them. But I’m telling you right now, that’s the stupidest thing you could ever do.”

“You have to let yourself just be, Hobi. Just let go. Enjoy things - life, your friends, your family. Be open to the possibility of love. It’s the only thing that can keep the darkness away.”

Namjoon’s voice shrinks when he says the last line, and Hoseok knows his friend is far off in his own mind, battling the demons that plague him.

“I think I’m too far gone for that, Namjoon,” Hoseok tells him. “Maybe some of us weren’t meant for happiness. Maybe some of us needed to make sacrifices so others could live the lives they wanted to.”

“That’s a damn lie if I’ve ever heard one, Hoseok.” Namjoon striaghtens, rising up from the chair. “I know you’ve been angry at me for leaving, for keeping you all in the dark. I know how much it hurts to not be able to share your happiest moments with people you love. And I’m sorry for that. But you have a chance to change things.”

“Listen Hobi,” Namjoon crouches down to his level. “I want to be the best man at your wedding – I want to be there for you in all the ways you didn’t get to do for me. This is my way of making amends, but you need to fix whatever this is between you two.”

“What makes you think she’ll even take me back? I was awful to her… god, she didn’t deserve that Joon. She deserves so much better.”

“Do you love her?” Namjoon asks him, and Hoseok is shocked when he doesn’t even have to pause to think about it. He wants to start over, to be by your side, to have a chance to love you properly this time around.

“Second chances come when you least expect them, Hobi. Think about what would have happened if you hadn’t stepped out into the rain last night. And don’t let it happen again.”

The knock at the door startles you, your phone clattering to the floor. Swearing under your breath, you pick it up, perusing the message from Minghao once again. He was nothing if not persistent. And Hoseok was never coming back. You’d convinced yourself of that.

It’d been over a week since he’d left you that night - the promise to keep you safe burrowing its way into your heart. And then radio silence. You’d heard the gunshots in the hallway, but when you’d opened the door, no one was there, the only evidence of the showdown being the faint splatters of blood on the wall. When the police had questioned you, you’d left Hoseok’s name out of it – those words echoing in your mind, instilling a false sense of loyalty in you.

Why did you think things would be different this time around? It’d been foolish to assume that Hoseok thought anything more of you. But you couldn’t forget the look in his eyes, the gentle touches, the way he’d promise he would never let anything happen to you, and you fell for him all over again.

Throwing your phone aside, you grumble as you make your way to the door, making a mental note to respond to Minghao later, agreeing to the date.

Swinging it open, you freeze when you see who’s on the other end. Hoseok, looking worse for wear with bruises on his jaw and a nasty cut on his forehead, nervously twirling a tiny bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You’re dumbfounded - unable to speak as you take him in, his dark, inquisitive eyes gazing into your shocked ones.

“You better let me in, ____,” he says with a grin. “Or the neighbours are gonna think I did something really bad this time.”

Wordlessly, you open the door to allow him to enter, watching as he slips off his coat and shoes, an exact repeat of a week ago. You watch him, trying to open your mouth and say something, ask him anything, but nothing will come out.

“These are for you,” Hoseok nearly shoves the bouquet in your hands and you watch him rub at the back of his neck, his ears reddening.

“Are you okay Hoseok?” you finally manage to ask him, setting the flowers on your coffee table. Your concern wins out over your confusion once again, but the whole scene is odd – him, smiling in your apartment, the late afternoon sunlight casting half his angular face in a mysterious shadow.

“Just a little nick to my side,” he lifts his shirt up, your eyes widening at the bandages on his abdomen. “But actually, I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay since the day I let you walk away, and I can’t live with it anymore.”

You take a step back, unable to breathe. The space in between you seems to have lessened considerably, and you can make out every delicate detail of his face. Dizzy, you put some distance in between the two of you.

“Everything hurts, ___. It hurts because I look at you and I feel like I can’t breathe anymore, knowing how much pain I put you through. It hurts knowing that you’re so kind, so understanding of someone like me, when I don’t deserve it at all. And what hurts the most is knowing that I love you, and I’ve been lying to myself this entire time because I’m afraid you’ll leave just like everyone else, but I lost you anyway.”

Hoseok’s voice cracks on the last words, and you watch him sway, gripping onto your counter for support.

“I thought it was just me this entire time,” you finally manage to look him in the eyes, tears spilling out of your own. “I thought I was crazy, because ever since you walked out that door a week ago, all I’ve been doing is waiting for you to come back.”

“I’m here,” Hoseok closes the gap between you, arms wrapping around you. You breathe in the faint scent of tobacco on his leather jacket, mixed with the spice of his cologne. “And I’m not leaving. Not this time.”

You grip his lapels, before your arms come up to wrap around his neck, running your fingers through the soft hair at his nape.

“What if it’s not different this time around?” you whisper into his neck. “What if nothing changes?”

“What if it is?” his low voice rumbles into your hair. “Can you trust me, ___? One more time?”

You take his hand in yours, bringing it to your chest, his lips parting in awe at the fluttering of your heartbeat.

“Only you can do that to me,” you say softly, a smile gracing your lips.

Before you know it, Hoseok’s lips are crashing against yours, and you can feel him release a euphoric sigh, groaning into your mouth. It’s slow, tentative in the way he waits for your body to respond, never pushing more than you’re comfortable with. Eventually, even the small bit of distance in between you becomes too much to bear. You card your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly at the strands, warmth blossoming in your chest.

It feels too short when he pulls away all too soon, lips tinged with red and eyes dark with something that sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve wanted to do that ever since the night of the gala,” he rasps, warmth blooming in your chest at his confession. “You were—, I mean you still are, breathtaking.”

You can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his pulse point right there below your fingertips, and you reach for his hand, watching his entire body soften at your touch.

“Come with me,” you ask him, eyes turning down the hallway to your bedroom. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for.

Hoseok tries to ignore the rapid rushing of blood in his ears, his focus narrowing to your head resting on his shoulder, the two of you looking out at the city together for the last little while from your bed. It’s somewhere he never imagined he’d be, but he’d felt the ice around his heart melt the moment he’d finally kissed you for real, warmth filling his veins.

And despite relishing in your presence, it was spiking to a fever pitch. He’d tasted you, and now he couldn’t get enough. All it takes is a brief moment for you to look in his eyes, and he’s pulling you into him once again, mouth hard on yours, unable to resist the desire for more, more, more.

You whine into his mouth, hands fisting at the edge of his shirt, struggling to pull it over his head. He uses one hand to pin both arms behind you, reaching over with the other to hike your dress up to your stomach, finally peeling it off, and you lie back, eyes alight with desire as you take him in.

He kisses you again, his lean body hovering over yours, hands roaming everywhere – your arms, up your neck, and on your thighs. He inches higher and higher, fingers ghosting over your core.

“Hoseok please,” you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. “I can’t wait anymore.”

You part your thighs for him, and he wastes no time, pulling your soaked underwear to the side and dipping his fingers into your arousal. He presses another hard kiss to your lips, catching your moans in his mouth while he works you open, leaving you trembling underneath him.

You whine when his fingers leave you, clenching around nothing, coming up to cup your exposed breasts in both hands while he licks and sucks at your nipples.

“Fuck,” he groans against your chest. “How are you so perfect? How are you even mine?”

His voice breaks, and you mouth at his jaw, mirroring his actions until purple bruises begin to bloom in the spots where your lips previously were.

“I’m yours,” you nip at his bottom lip. “Whether you like it or not.”

“Believe me,” he smirks. “I like it. I like it a lot actually. Let me show you how much.”

With adept skill, he manages to remove your panties in seconds, throwing them to the wall. The clinking sound of his belt drives you mad, and your hands join his, the two of you awkwardly fumbling to remove it.

You feel your mouth go dry when his cock springs free, and he chuckles at the depraved look in your eyes.

“Some other time, love,” he whispers, voice lowering a few octaves. “Right now, I need to feel you.”

You gasp when he pushes in, and he pauses, wondering if it’s too much, but you nod, letting him know it’s okay. He thrusts shallowly, before pushing in all the way, watching you squirm underneath him while rutting your hips.

“Move, please,” you beg him, and he obliges, hiking one leg up over his shoulder to open you up for him, the wet sounds of your pussy accompanying the fluid snap of his hips. His knuckles grip the headboard, turning white while he pins you underneath him, unable to take his eyes off the way your tits bounce with every thrust. His hands grip at your ass, every jerk of his hips an excuse to hold you tighter, until he can see your skin redden underneath his fingers.

“Oh my god, Hoseok, I can’t–, it’s too much,” you groan, rocking against him in an attempt to quell the sparks underneath your skin, lighting you up like a livewire.

“Come for me,” he grunts, trapping your clit in between his fingers, rubbing tight circles until you snap, seeking his lips once again, your orgasm flooding your entire body like a wave. Hoseok speeds up his thrusts to join you, roaring when he feels himself explode, before slumping against you, chest heaving with the weight of his breaths.

Moments pass like this, him remaining inside you while he burrows into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning your damp skin. Eventually he pulls out of you with a soft whine, brushing away the sweat-soaked strands of hair at your temple, before rising.

You trap his wrist in your hand, panic settling in. He watches your expression change and immediately stiffens, cradling you against his chest.

“That expression you always talk about, the flood. I-, I looked it up. And I know the life I have isn’t ideal, and maybe things will only get harder, but I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I don’t want to live out the rest of my life not caring anymore.”

“Do you know what I was thinking of that night, looking at the wave?” you mumble in his ear, and he gazes at you inquisitively, watching the way your skin glows under the moonlight as you take a breath.

“My whole life, people have forced me into this box, this image, of someone they want me to be – the perfect daughter, the perfect wife. It’s been suffocating. All I wanted that night was a taste of freedom - that feeling of happiness you have on a beach, feeling the waves crash at your feet. And then I saw you.”

Hoseok leaves a kiss in your hair, his fingers intertwining with yours. Briefly, his heart drops at the absence of the ring he’d given you on your finger, but he knows when you’re ready, it’ll be waiting for you. He’ll be waiting for you. And the two of you will step into the flood, together.

a/n pt. 2: Okay long ending note here. First, please visualize this Hoseok with the undercut ;) Second, I don't normally say this but the writer's block really got me good with this one, so I apologize if it's not up to my usual standards (pls be kind tho). And third and last, this fic definitely would never exist if it weren't for the wonderful Guarded series by Ana (@xjoonchildx). I think about it more than is necessary and this is definitely my tribute to the impeccable Captain Jung.

As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

taglist (pls let me know if you want to be removed): @jalexad @secfir @hobi-love @back2bluesidex @temptingempress

229 notes · View notes

orpheusmori · 4 months

Text

What was the police générale (Police Bureau) ?

Long post! I missed doing these analysis posts! More under the cut. Please feel free to let me know if I need to correct/add any info!

There is a lot of confusion amongst frev hobbyists and historians alike regarding the Police Bureau set up by the Committees in April 1794. Hopefully this analysis will better present it to the frev community here. The Bureau is often wrongly presented as a "Robespierrest power-grab" when in hindsight and more careful analysis has taken place, it appears to be more of an unfortunate coincidence that Robespierre, Saint-Just, and Couthon were signing a majority of the decrees and statements put out from the Bureau. The rest of the CSP, and including Saint-Just- who gave the speech presenting it to the Convention on behalf of both of the leading committees were all largely preoccupied with military matters and missions to the provinces. In fact, Saint-Just, Robespierre, and Couthon did attempt and succeed in passing Bureau document reviews off to other CSP members like Carnot, in some instances. Robespierre's reviews of many documents were vague and often called for further examination- not immediate trial, or let alone condemnation. Robespierre (and likely Couthon's) ill-health left them confined to Paris- someone still had to be there to oversee matters in a committee stretched to its very limits.

The idea that Robespierre, Couthon, and Saint-Just- who was gone away to mission only days after the Bureau came into existence were "terrorizing" the public with this measure is entirely anachronistic reactionary propaganda. Also, it is important to acknowledge the ever-growing rift between the CSP and the CSG- although this bureau in theory was probably intended to be reconciliatory (as many of SJ's proposals were) and alleviate the strain the vast amount of these sorts of cases had on the CGS, it really only divided them further in many ways. Regardless of SJ's and the entire CSP's intent with creating this bureau, in reality it sowed more seeds of envy and distrust amongst the two leading Convention committees.

The two leading Convention committees issued these 18 decrees in alignment with the speech Saint-Just gave on the CSP and CSG's behalf on the creation of the police générale on 26 germinal an II ( 15 April 1794). This is approximately 10 days after the Indulgents/Dantonists' trial and executions, for a timeline reference. However, Saint-Just was never one to willingly make a speech without carefully preparing it. Couthon originally presented amendments 1-7, which passed unanimously. Saint-Just modified Article 7 and introduced Articles 8-15 during his speech. This post is quite long but I recommend checking out Saint-Just's personal script for the articles he introduced (These can be found in the 2004 folio-histoire edition of his Oeuvres complètes, and probably other editions too.)

Articles:

Art. 1- Les prévenus de conspiration seront traduits de tous les points de la République au tribunal révolutionnaire à Paris.

Art. 2- Les Comités de salut public et de sûreté générale rechercheront promptement les complices des conjurés, et les feront traduire au tribunal révolutionnaire.

Art. 3- Les commissions populaires seront établies pour le 15 floréal.

Art. 4- Il est enjoint à toutes les administrations et à tous les tribinaux civils de terminer dans trois mois, à compter de promulgation du présent décret, les affaires pendantes, à piene de destitution ; et, à l'avenir, tous les affaires privées devront être terminéés dans le même délai, sous la même piene.

Art. 5- Le Comité de salut public est expressément chargé de faire inspecter les autorités et les agents publics chargés de coopérer à l'administration.

Art. 6- Aucun ex-noble, aucun étranger des pays avec lesquels la République est en guerre, ne peut habiter Paris, ni les places fortes, ni les villes maritimes, pendant la guerre. Tout noble ou étranger dans le cas ci-dessus, qui y serait trouvé dans dix jours, est mis hors la loi.

Art. 7- Les ouvriers employés à la fabrication des armes, à Paris, les étrangères qui ont épousé des patriotes français ne sont point compris dans l'article précédent.

Art. 8- Le séjour de Paris, des places fortes, des villes maritimes, est interdit aux généreux qui n'y sont point en activité de service.

Art. 9- Le respect envers le magistrats sera religieusement observé; mais tout citoyens pirranse plaindre de leur injustice, et le Comité de salut public les fera punir selon la rigueur des lois.

Art. 10 - La Convention nationale ordonne à toutes les authorités de se refermer rigourousement dans les limites de leurs institutions, sans les étendre ni les restreindre.

Art. 11- Elle ordonne au Comité de salut public d'exiger un compte sévère de tous les agents, de poursuivre ceux qui serviront les complots et auront tourné contre la liberté le pouvoir qui leur aura été confié.

Art. 12- Tous les citoyens sont tenus d'informer les autorités de leur ressort et le Comité de salut public, des vols, des discourses inciviques et des acts d'oppression dont ils auraient été victimes ou témoins.

Art. 13- Les représentants du peuple se serviront des autorités constitutées et ne pourront déléguer de pouvoirs.

Art. 14- Les réquisitions sont interdites à tous autres que la commission des subsistances et les représentants du peuple près les armeés, sous l'autorisation expresse du Comité de salut public.

Art. 15- Si celui qui sera convaincu désormais de s'être plaint de la Révolution vivait sans rien faire et n'était ni sexagénaire, ni infirme, il sera déporté à la Guyane. Ces sortes d'affaires seront jugées par les commissions populaires.

Art. 16 - Le CSP encouragera, par des indemnités et des récompenses, les fabriques, l'exploitation des mines, les manufactures, le dessèchement des marais; il protégera l'industrie, la confiance entre ceux qui commercent; il dera des avances aux négociants patriotes qui offriront des approvisionnements au maximum; il donnera des ordres de garantie à ceux qui amèneront des merchandises à Paris, pour les transports ne soient pas inquiétés; il protégera la circulation des rouliers dans l'intérieur, et ne souffrira pas qu'il soit porté atteinte à la bonne foi publique.

Art. 17- La Convention nationale nommera dans son sein deux commissions, chacune de trois membres: l'une chargée de rédiger en un code succinct et complet les lois qui ont été rendues jusqu'à ce jour, en supprimant celles qui sont devenues confuses; l'autre commission sera chargée de rédiger un corps d'institutions civiles propres à conserver les moeurs et l'espirit de la liberté. Ces commissions feront leur rapport dans un mois.

Art. 18- Le présent décret sera proclamé dès demain à Paris, et son insertion au Bulletin tiendra lieu de publication dans les départements.

English translation:

Art. 1- Those accused of conspiracy will be brought before the Revolutionary Tribunal in Paris from all parts of the Republic.

Art. 2- The CSP and CSG will promptly seek out the conspirators' accomplices, and have them brought before the revolutionary tribunal.

Art. 3- The People's Commissions will be established by 15 Floréal.

Art. 4- All administrations and civil tribunals are enjoined to complete all pending cases within three months of the promulgation of the present decree, under penalty of dismissal; and, in the future, all private cases must be completed within the same time-frame, under the same penalty.

Art. 5- The Committee of Public Security/Police Bureau is expressly charged with inspecting the authorities and public officials charged with cooperating with the administration.

Art. 6- No ex-noble or foreigner from countries with which the Republic is at war may live in Paris, or in fortified towns or maritime cities, during the war. Any nobleman or foreigner in the above situation, who is found there within ten days, is outlawed.

Art. 7- Workers employed in the manufacture of weapons in Paris and foreign women who have married French patriots are not included in the preceding article.

Art. 8- Generous citizens who are not on active service are forbidden to stay in Paris, fortified towns and maritime cities.

Art. 9- Respect for magistrates will be religiously observed; but all citizens will complain of their injustice, and the CPS will punish them according to the rigor of the laws.

Art. 10 - The National Convention orders all authorities to remain rigorously within the limits of their institutions, without extending or restricting them.

Art. 11- It orders the Committee of Public Security to demand a strict account from all agents, and to prosecute those who serve plots and turn the power entrusted to them against liberty.

Art. 12- All citizens are required to inform their local authorities and the CSP of thefts, uncivil discourse and acts of oppression of which they have been victims or witnesses.

Art. 13- The people's representatives will use the constituted authorities and will not be able to delegate powers.

Art. 14- Requisitions are forbidden to anyone other than the subsistence commission and the people's representatives to the armed forces, subject to the express authorization of the CSP.

Art. 15- If the person convicted of having complained about the Revolution lives without doing anything, and is not in his sixties or infirm, he will be deported to French Guiana. These kinds of cases will be judged by popular commissions.

Art. 16 - The CSP will encourage, through indemnities and rewards, factories, the exploitation of mines, the draining of marshes; it will protect industry, the confidence between those who trade; it will give advances to patriotic merchants who offer supplies to the maximum; it will give guarantee orders to those who bring merchandise to Paris, so that transporters will not be troubled; it will protect the movement of supply ships in the interior, and will not allow public good faith to be undermined.

Art. 17- The National Convention will appoint two commissions from among its members, each with three members: one will be charged with drafting a succinct and complete code of the laws that have been passed to date, deleting those that have become confused; the other commission will be charged with drafting a body of civil institutions suitable for preserving morals and the spirit of liberty. These commissions will report within one month.

Art. 18- The present decree will be proclaimed tomorrow in Paris, and its insertion in the Bulletin will take the place of publication in the departments.

#LOOONG post #french rev #police bureau #saint-just #robespierre #couthon #frev sources #frev #queue

70 notes · View notes

cillivnz · 1 year

Text

𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐮 𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬 [𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭]

CHAPTER ONE —— AFTERMATH

warnings. angst, gore descriptions, torture, mentions of death, stabbing, shooting; basically your average 14 minutes into a john wick movie.

a/n. occasionally updating the preliminaries post of this series as deemed necessary. all warnings and details would be mentioned in that post. note, this is a slow burn (emphasis on slow). i hope you enjoy reading this short chapter, i promise it’ll get better. this one’s for the anon who wanted angst, i owe it all to you, honey. <3 pardon any inaccurate translations.

notes. Rehneyr Corsioni [OC] — ex-associate of reader’s father. Edgar Corsioni [OC] — Rehneyr’s son.

TRANSLATIONS. mon ange — my angel; tenez-moi — hold me; va te faire foutre — fuck you/fuck off; “Écoute, si tu parviens à répondre, tu seras libre de vivre ce qui reste de ta vie pathétique.” — Look, if you manage to answer, you will be free to live whatever is left of your pathetic life; “Sing, pute.” — Sing, bitch; “Je ne ferais jamais ça.” — I would never do that; “Laisse moi ici,” — Leave me here;

Clustering sounds beside you were your alarm. Your eyes fought to get adjusted to your dimly lit surroundings, in a panic, you shot up from the bed. Bed? You were uncertain of where you were, until you saw a tall figure hulking, with his back towards you. As if sensing your inquisitive eyes on him, he turned around, a solemn expression on his face, plump lips sealed tight, yet his gaze softened at the sight of you. “Good… morning.” He said shaking his head, it seemed like he wasn’t too fond of his words, considering the sun set a few hours ago. You took a moment to look down at yourself, wearing an oversized, white silk shirt, and your panties. “I took the liberty of cleaning you, I’m sorry, ange.” He was avoiding your gaze, looking at the foot of the bed. “It’s okay, Vince.” “I appreciate you.” Your voice was soft, just a whisper lingering in the breeze.

“You need to rest.” He spoke with an authoritative concern. “I can’t, I just woke up.” You let out something along the lines of a chuckle and a scoff. “Lie down.” He raised his brows, a pleading look on his handsome face. “Lie down with me.” You quirked a brow, not anticipating the flush on his cheeks to be so prominent. “If, uh, if that’s what you want, ange.” He dare not look at you while discarding his jacket, slowly climbing beside you in the queen-size bed, long legs almost swinging out of it; the long bed that sufficiently accommodated you, failed to do the same for him.

Perplexity. Life had a way of arousing it, for life is a gland and these shitty plotholes are the hormones it secrets into your bloody life. A day ago, you mourned the loss of your family, this man, one who vowed service to your father, abandoned him when he needed him the most; when you needed him the most — but he’s here now, isn’t he? You should’ve been mad, hell, he of all people knew the degree of your wrath once unleashed, but you couldn’t be mad at your Vince, not when he sank into the mattress, beside you, pressing himself against you, tauntingly gently, reluctant on whether to be a bit selfish and let his arm rest on your waist, close all humane proximity between you two, and let whatever warmth he still possessed, even if it came from the fiery depths of hell he was certain to burn in, creep onto you.

You noticed this reluctance, despite not facing him. You couldn’t, you feared what you’d do once you’d catch those ocean eyes of his staring into the depths of your soul, digging an abyss into it with his piercing gaze, creating his personal hell inside of you.

“Vincent,” you whispered. “Yes, mon ange.” His soft voice whispered. “Tenez-moi.” Finally, the hesitant arm found homage, snakes around your waist, pressing his godly body against yours. The grip was possessive, permanent, and above all, right. Nothing has ever felt so right, to both of you. In that moment you knew, Vincent would fight heaven and back for you, in your name, whatever it takes.

Amidst your sleep, you heard agonising whimpers from behind you. Both of Vincent’s hands were on your hips, like the fullness of them was comforting. “Ange,” He shivered a whimper, grip tightening around your hips, squeezing them in fear, fear of whatever horror he saw behind those eyes shut tight.

“It’s okay, Vince. I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered, fingered grazing the veins on his large hands. He seemed to lean into your touch, crouching so his head could rest on your shoulder. ‘Not now, not ever.’ You meant to say, but you’re never had a way with words, a knotted tongue and a betraying body.

When morning came, so did the hellhounds. Jolting up at the sound of gunfire, your first thought was if Vincent got hurt, but not seeing him in bed with you as you’d requested, somehow, hurt more than what you’d knew a shot to the heart would. Getting up from the sheets in a frenzy, you reach for your 9mm and rush to the window. The sight below was three men circling in on one Vincent. Three armed men, and one Vincent with his weapon on the ground. You aim at the thug on the left — headshot; right, headshot, leaving the big boy with one man to knock down, a piece of cake, considering the boy was 6’4. He looked back at you, a grin plastered on his beautiful face, before he turned to the man in-front of him and tackled the shooter to the ground. “Atta boy.” You yelled out the window, before heading down to assist him.

‘Torturing’ is what an amateur would call it. You, on the other hand, say it like it is. ‘Information extraction’, it is. That’s truly how simple it is, the good ol’ human compliance, cooperation. You wouldn’t want to be a sinful Pinocchio and say you didn’t enjoy it when they didn’t, however. A challenge, hellions and rascals, and you loved brat-taming. Foreseeable, was this sight. A man stripped to the bone, tied in razor blade ropes of bondage, bleeding rivers of crimson at the hands of you and your beloved. Friend. Beloved friend.

“Tell us who sent you.” Vincent demanded, the tone of his voice was enough to snap you out of your sinister daze and let gooseflesh arise. “Va te faire foutre.” The son of a bitch had the audacity to retort. “Écoute, si tu parviens à répondre, tu seras libre de vivre ce qui reste de ta vie pathétique.” You sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose in annoyance. The bastard spitting on your face was the last straw for Vincent, who conjured a knife from an apparent holster and grabbed the perpetrator by his short hair. “If you won’t talk,” he said, slashing the man’s throat in one swift stroke, “Sing, pute.”

Fear, for the first time, as the evening sun made feeble attempts to paint the perpetrator’s etiolating face a hue of tangerine, gargling on his own blood, he managed to weakly reveal, “Corsioni,” before leaving this realm, leaving behind no legacy in a maggot’s world, but a mess for you and Vincent to clean.

Rehneyr Corsioni, an associate of your father’s. You remember talk amongst your mother and his wife of a marriage (of convenience) between you and his son, Edgar. “Je ne ferais jamais ça.” You’d scowl at the sound of his name. He had his Russian mother’s face and his Italian father’s eyes, his skin and her hair. A lethal combination, something many a woman has succumbed to in the past, but not you. You had your own plans involving a very mercurial and brooding Parisian boy. His fawn hair, his blue-green eyes; you’d decided to call the colour a shade of Turkish blue. Looking at him now, dried blood splatters tainting his face, you noticed he hasn’t changed much. He was still your Vince, right?

After ridding yourselves of the body, Vincent and you stayed outdoors, staring into the wisteria horizon; at the ravens flying into the greenery and at the bats flying north. “How are you holding up?” He asked you, breaking the silence after minutes of staring at you, a habit you’ve noticed him picking up. “All things considered…” you paused, peering into the sky as if the clouds were etched in your answers. “I’m just glad you’re with me, Vince.” You turn to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

May you be damned for finding solace in this state, but were you really to be blamed when tonight’s the first time he’s lowered his walls? Just enough for you to hop over, or sit atop them prettily. “About that,” he inched away a little, causing you to raise your head, tilting in confusion. “I think you should leave.” He spoke, his words were choked by uncertainty and his brows furrowed at how pathetic he sounded. “What?” Your voice was barely a whisper. “America. Stay there for a bit, lay low, or even find contracts. Laisse moi ici, just until things pacify.”

Pacify? What was left to assuage in this city of ruins? “Vincent, there’s nothing left for me here — for us, here.” You began reasoning, eyes flickering from his face, to his hands. When he blatantly refused to meet your gaze, you grabbed one of his hands, the whole of your hand seemingly elfin in his large ones. This act forced him to stare you down, unlike he does voluntarily, from time to time; this instance, you had to force him to look you in the eye.

“I’ve already booked a ticket, an apartment, clothes, everything— you don’t have to worry about none of that.” He tightened his hold on your hand, grabbing the other, too. “Please, Ange. I need you to do this.” He beseeched. Never had you ever seen such a pleading look on his face, agony whirling in his eyes. “For me?”

For him you found yourself on a plane to New York, tears threatening to break the dam of dignity in your eyes and flood away as you reminisce about his arms that wrapped around you the night before, and the way he leaned in but pulled away in the blink of an eye, muttering curses, unheard of by you, but the twitch of his mouth and the tearing up of his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you.

If your departure meant more to Vincent than he was letting on, why was he adamant on sending you away, and what wrath will the city of Paris go through now at the hands of a man apoplectic with provoked rage? Unfortunately, you couldn’t see for yourself, so, you let sleep cradle your being and drift off to some unconscious safe haven.

268 notes · View notes

astranva · 2 years

Text

Tea & Confrontations

Word Count: 6.2k

Category: Angst, fluff-ish, but mostly angst

Warning: swear language

Summary: A mutual friend, and an inside source spills exclusive tea about your and Harry’s relationship, breakup, and your relationship with Joe Keery, and Joe confronts Harry.

a/n: this is set further down in time and not in October of 2022 for the sake of the fic’s timeline. let me know what you think! this is a long one x

Backstage Girlfriend Masterlist

Some days, you had found yourself regretting your choice of profession. Surely working as anything but a creative director, commonly known as Production Designer in the film industry–one who was successful and known as well–and having a circle of people who were in the entertainment industry wouldn’t have made you and Harry meet. Surely it was your profession. Surely it was the circle of big names and not-so-big ones that had your paths crossing years ago. Surely if it weren’t for it, you would have been getting over a breakup with an accountant or business developer of some sort, and only then, nobody would have given two shits about your breakup.

But that wasn’t the case.

And while you had had your days, meeting Joe had proved that everything worked out for the best.

“I was thinking that we might need to change Flo’s position for this shot.”

It wasn’t everyday that someone could be sitting next to one of Hollywood’s best directors, Christopher Nolan, but as the supervising production designer on his new movie, Oppenheimer, you were.

“The lighting on her face is coming from that side,” you pointed, “And if we have her on the other side, it’s more fitting to the mood.”

Nolan nodded along, looking at his screen in front of him, “Yeah, yeah, I see it,” he said, “Florence, can you stand on the left instead?” He called.

Working on one of the most anticipated movies with an incredible cast and crew, you were almost sleepless. As someone whose job was one between a Producer and a Director, your mind seemed to always be racing with the designs you worked on for the film, the budgeting, the storyboards, making sure all the teams you were working with were going according to plan—you loved your job, but saying you were busy would be an understatement.

It was why it wasn’t something you had anticipated nor wished for when the internet seemed to suddenly go crazy.

It was a rare day off when it happened, to your own bad luck and misfortune.

At 9 a.m., Joe had woken up before you, being gentle as he kissed your hair as you slept, overcome with the feeling of happiness that you were finally getting some sleep and rest, even if it was just for a day.

Time seemed to be dragged before Joe checked his phone that he had silenced before bed to make sure neither of you, and especially you, was disturbed.

Along with a few frantic texts from his friends, it was one of his sisters’ texts that he saw first:

Carolina: Don’t let Y/N come near her phone!!!

Caroline: Deux Moi released a podcast with an “exclusive source” that leaked everything about her previous relationship and yours

Caroline: Do NOT let her see this!

Carolina: https://www.hellomagazine.com/celebrities/20221002153091/harry-styles-exclusive-tea-yn-yln/

“Fuck,” Joe said under his breath, his shoulders slumping as he sat down, opening the link his sister sent him.

“Holivia was a stunt and Harry isn’t over Y/N”, says exclusive source about Harry Styles & ex, Y/N Y/L/N, on Deux Moi podcast and much more!

Joe only skimmed through the article, eyebrows furrowed as muscles tense as he decided to click on the link to the podcast, choosing to listen for himself.

“Today we have someone, let’s call them Kyle, and I feel like you guys will like this one,” the distorted voice of Deux Moi said, “I’ve been getting asked about Harry and Olivia, and about Harry and his ex, Y/N Y/L/N and her and Joe for so, so long now, and I always said I didn’t know so much about what actually went down. Like, I wasn’t sure if the things you all sent was truthful or just total cap, but Kyle here is an exclusive, you guys. Hey, Kyle.”

“Hey, hey, how are you?”

“I’m doing good, doing great. First of all, I’m really excited to talk about this because—Gosh, it’s what everyone has been talking about for so long and people are dying to know, so you’re literally going to end everyone’s misery.”

Kyle chuckled, “When I reached out to you, I actually had that in mind. Like, I just felt like I have been sitting on this one.”

“Yeah, thank you so much for reaching out,” the voice of Deux Moi said, “First of all, let’s start talking about Harry and Y/N. Do we have a timeline?”

“Yeah, so,” Kyle began, “Harry and Y/N met back in 2018.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah, there were some mutual friends and I was one of them, and we were all there for his last show on his first tour then we went backstage, and let me get this straight,” they paused, “That was literally love at first sight.”

“Shut up, no way!”

“When I tell you Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off of Y/N, I seriously mean it,” they said, “Y/N is shy. Like, she has a lot of friends and she’s, like, the sweetest person ever but the moment you meet her, she’s just shy and sweet and Harry off stage is exactly like that, but that night, he was trying so hard to talk to her, like just her, and he was blushing and she was, like, very flustered and all, and we all knew that we basically have some setting up to do.”

“Neither of them was in any relationship at the time?”

“No,” they answered, “Just two single people who basically had the hots for each other. So, that night, Harry and his bad and, like, everyone else, were all going out to celebrate the tour coming to an end and all and obviously we were all invited, but I remember he directly went to Y/N and he was like, “I’ll see you there, right?” and we were all just absolutely swooning.”

“This is everyone’s dream. Like imagine Harry Styles wanting to see you.”

“Exactly, exactly,” they agreed, “But Y/N wasn’t just starstruck with him because he’s a celebrity, you know? I don’t even know how to describe it but they moment they met, they just really clicked.”

“This is so cute.”

“Right?”

“So what happens next?”

“Well we go out and we party, and they dance together, they talk, and it basically looks like they’re on a date and everyone could see it. They exchanged numbers that night,” Kyle spilled, “So then like a couple of days later, we all go out for brunch.”

“Like, the friend group?”

“Yeah, we all basically decided that we needed to set them up so we were, like, set it into action at that point. So we all went out and they were just—there’s some shy flirting, you know? They were just talking and having a conversation all evening.”

“This feels like a fairytale.”

“We all placed our bets on them, honestly,” they said, “Anyway, we all met up more times after that, like two or three times, but I feel like—like it all just, sort of blossomed when we all went on a trip to Italy together, and I can’t tell you how absolutely smitten they were. They had their first date there,” Kyle said.

“No way!” The voice of Deux Moi gasped, “This is so adorable. Is that why it seems like Italy is like, so close to Harry? Like, it feels like he just goes there to relax and that it’s like his getaway of some sort.”

“Italy was their country, honestly,” they said, “Like they had their first date there, and then they later had so many vacations there, I feel like it was like their safe haven or something.”

“This is so adorable, I can’t. I literally can’t.”

“Right? Anyway, fast forwarding a bit, they were just so adorable together. Like, their relationship at that point was the perfect example of puppy love. Harry was the happiest we’ve ever seen him, Y/N was the happiest, everything was going so well.”

“When did they make it official?”

“It took them some time,” they answered, “Y/N met Harry’s family before they actually made it official. I think she met them around Christmas time and Harry just told us about how his family absolutely adored her,” they said, “But they made it official in 2019, first day of the year.”

“First of January?”

“Yup,” Kyle answered, “I can’t even begin to describe how they both were literally glowing at that point. They were just so in love, it was crazy.”

“Wait, so they were together for how many years before they broke up, again?”

“Three years.”

“Three years!”

“Three whole years, yeah,” Kyle repeated, “And everyone loved them together, and at the time, we all understood that they wanted to be private, because you know how things get with the fans and the media and all. But the fans, you know, they saw her and were beginning to join some dots but I think at some point, everyone assumed they were just friends because they were never really touching or kissing in the pictures, but I remember our friends talking about how much the fans loved Y/N.”

“You know, I get some sightings of Y/N, and it’s always with, like, the cutest stories. Like people telling me she’s so respectful, she’s cute, she’s nice, is big on tips, and all that, so I get why fans would love her,” the voice of Deux Moi said, “And I think I remember getting some messages about her getting fans concert tickets and merch.”

“She always did that,” Kyle confirmed, “I think that—Y/N is just a very humble and simple person, and I think she has always realized that with her place in the industry, she does have some privilege, right? Especially when she was Harry’s girlfriend and all, so she just really liked doing these things,” they said, “Like she always told him to get more in touch with his fans, and I think there were some arguments about ticket and merch pricing and all.”

“Wow, really?”

“Yeah, I think that’s why the fans loved her. You always pick up that vibe, you know? When someone is being real.”

“True. That’s so true,” Deux Moi agreed, “But—where did it all go wrong? I think it all went bad with the hate and all after Harry’s song got leaked. I remember that—she was getting so much hate. You know what? No, don’t answer that right now, we’ll get to it.”

Kyle chuckled, “Yeah, let’s take it one step at a time,” they said.

“Alright so, Holivia? That’s—That’s also the tea.”

“Oh, it’s hot,” Kyle laughed, “It’s very hot tea.”

“Right? Because I feel like from what you’re saying, Harry and Y/N, they were—they were endgame.”

“They really were,” they said, “But then Harry got the Don’t Worry Darling role and that’s when things went south,” they began, “Look, publicity stunts and scandals happen all the time. It’s a classic for a reason, too. It always works.”

“I agree.”

“So in 2020, there were talks about the stunt. Basically that Harry and Olivia start going out and all, and Y/N was—She was literally crushed when Harry said he was going to think about it.”

“She didn’t think he’d do it?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Kyle answered, “Obviously, she’s in the industry and she knows that these things happen all the time but when you’re in her position, it’s—it’s not so easy. But she was very supportive of his career and, like, respected his decisions and everything because she knew that he wouldn’t—like, he wouldn’t disrespect her, you know?”

A hum.

“Anyway, Harry agreed to it and he had conditions set. Like, he wanted it to still be lowkey and to, like, keep it on the minimum.”

“That’s not really how it goes,” Deux Moi joked.

“It’s not how it goes,” Kyle repeated.

“Did Y/N at any point—Or her and Harry, did they ever consider going public?”

“Y/N wanted that,” Kyle answered, “She’s mostly also private, but she just wanted everyone to know that they’re a couple, you know?”

“Yeah, nothing wrong with that. I’d want people to know that Harry Styles and I are together, too.”

Kyle laughed, “Right? But it was because—They’re both attractive people, so you have people shooting their shot at them all the time and at some point, it was a little hurtful to Y/N how she had to stay, like, very discreet about her relationship. It felt like a secret, you know?”

“Like she was hidden.”

“Exactly, exactly. And that’s just—It’s not fun and it does things to your mental health. Like, you start thinking.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“So anyway, the stunt was supposed to be short-term, but everything was just super intense. Shit mostly went down during Jeff and Glenne’s wedding.”

“Jeff is Harry’s manager, right?”

“Yeah,” they answered, “So when you’re in a relationship, obviously your plus one is you girlfriend, your boyfriend, like, your partner, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Y/N was asked to not attend with Harry and to, like, blend in.”

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Swear,” Kyle assured, “Just so Harry and Olivia can make their debut as a couple.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“I know.”

“I think I felt my heart break,” Deux Moi said, “Are you kidding me?”

“I wish,” Kyle said, “We were all so worried about Y/N because she was literally crushed. Like, oh my God, I can’t even begin to describe it. Like, to the point that she wasn’t going to attend the wedding if it weren’t for Glenne insisting.”

“And how was it?”

“She was so anxious that day, and I think—I think that’s when Y/N really began doubting herself. Like, at that point, the relationship was making her feel like shit and she felt like—You know, she felt like she just wasn’t worthy of being Harry’s girlfriend, that maybe she wasn’t good enough for his image, all that talk.”

“Poor woman, I feel like crying right now,” Deux Moi gasped, “And how was Harry dealing with it?”

“Look, I can’t believe I’m saying that but I feel like there was just so much manipulation happening? I don’t know, I don’t know, because Harry really did love Y/N. He—Actually, he still does. Like he’d be agreeing to all that stunt shit then be the good boyfriend to Y/N so to her, it sort of felt like she didn’t really have the right to complain. Like he’d tell her that it was basically work, that he loves her, that it’ll all end soon, and she, you know, she took it all in and tried to go on with it to be a supportive girlfriend.”

“This is literally a toxic relationship.”

“Which is so sad! It’s so sad, because—because they really did love each other so much,” Kyle said.

“Still toxic,” Deux Moi said, “Did Olivia know? About Harry and Y/N?”

“Yeah, yeah, she did,” Kyle answered, “And I’ve seen some people say that she was mean to Y/N and stuff, but that’s not true. They were both actually respectful towards one another.”

“Y/N is way better than I can be, because I don’t know how I’d act with Olivia if I were her.”

“We were all so shocked, but if this proves anything, it just proves how above and beyond Y/N was willing to go for her relationship—for Harry.”

Deux Moi hummed, “Then what happens?”

“Y/N did tell Harry about how uncomfortable the situation is. Like, he knew, but you know, he’d always assure her and all. But then,” they enunciated, “Harry missed her birthday for a sighting, with Olivia.”

A gasp was heard, “No fucking way. No way, are you kidding?”

“I wish I were,” Kyle said, “But I remember we were all trying to plan a night out and one of us told her that, like, Harry better leave the night for us to celebrate her and all, and she was like, “Oh, he’s not going to be here all day”, and we were like “What?” and she just said “He just has things to deal with and do” and then later, we find some pictures, like papped pictures of Harry and Olivia and everyone was like “Oh.””

“I’m so shocked right now. I literally don’t know what to say.”

“Yeah. We celebrated her birthday that night and she just—she just wasn’t happy, you know?”

“Yeah, can you blame her? Who can blame her?”

“Exactly,” Kyle agreed, “But then, like a day later, Harry made it up to her by taking her to the Amalfi Coast.”

“But is that even worth anything?”

“That’s what we were saying. Like, he missed her actual birthday, and for what? But Y/N was—she was still appreciative. In a way, she was just constantly convincing herself that it’s his work after all,” they said, “But then—”

“I’m always scared of what follows that.”

Kyle laughed, “It’s bad, alright? I wasn’t kidding when I told you earlier that it’s a sad story.”

“Oh you definitely weren’t.”

“Yeah so, you know these pictures of Harry and Olivia? When they were kissing on a yacht?”

“Oh yeah, know those. Kissing on a yacht is a classic when it comes to these stunts, I’m surprised they still do it.”

“Right?” Kyle laughed, “Yeah, after those Y/N was like—she was just reaching the breaking point, you know? She asked for space. It wasn’t necessarily a break, but just—just some space, and Harry respected it and he gave her space but he was like—he sent her flowers, sent her some letters, you know, stuff like that.”

“If it weren’t for the context, I would’ve said that was cute.”

“Right,” they chuckled, “But like, soon after, they went out for brunch and we all were—we were literally celebrating it because to us, that relationship—it was like you said, it was endgame. They were our favorite couple, so we were glad to see them working. But they got so much shit for that brunch date because there were paps and Harry’s management was, like, having none of it. Like they didn’t want Y/N in the picture when Olivia was in it.”

“That’s—Oh my God, that’s so fucking brutal.”

“Absolutely brutal. At that point, we all were sort of distancing ourselves from Harry. Everyone was trying to stay neutral, but we knew what was happening and it was just hurtful seeing what Y/N was going through,” they said, “So back to how Y/N loved interacting with the fans—they wanted her to stop that.”

“They wanted her to stop interacting with the fans?”

“Yeah, like to just cut it because it wasn’t good for Holivia but Y/N—she was like, no, you’re Harry’s management, you’re not mine.”

“Yes. Queen.”

“We were so proud of her!” Kyle exclaimed, “We were so proud,” they repeated.

“I feel like I’m proud of her and I don’t even personally know her.”

“Right? Right?” They laughed, “So yeah, she was just still interactive with fans over Twitter and like, Instagram comments and stuff.”

“She’s private on Instagram, right?”

“Yeah, she is,” they said, “But she’d always like some posts, comment on some stuff, stuff like that. She didn’t do it a lot, but it was still something she enjoyed—she still does it.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“I’m telling you, she’s—she’s just amazing.”

“So now, that’s when? Like was that nearing the breakup?”

“That was, like, months before their third anniversary,” Kyle answered, “So they celebrated their third year together and things were going fairly well—like, as good as it can get, at least. Until Harry’s show in Brixton, in May. The One Night Only show.”

“He had two, right?”

“Yeah, one in the UK, in Brixton, and the other in New York,” they answered, “They actually broke up on that day.”

“The one in Brixton?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t there for that one, but basically what happened was that—You know, Y/N was super supportive of Harry’s career. Like, she was his biggest fan and was literally the muse for all his love songs—like so many in Fine Line, and basically all of Harry’s House. Harry’s House is literally her album,” they said, “And I bet the next one as well but, anyway—so, she was there, of course. She was so excited to see him perform his new album, she basically was going on and on about how proud she was of him, how excited she was.”

“I’m so scared right now.”

“And then she was asked to stay backstage during the show.”

“Like—Like, not watch him from the crowd?”

“Yeah. His mom was there, his sister was there, so many of his friends—of our friends, everyone was going to stand there and actually watch him from the crowd but it was just Y/N that was told to stay back.”

“You have to be kidding.”

“I’m not. I wish,” they said, “But she was told to just, stay back and basically give her spot to Olivia,” Kyle said, “And Harry was—He was actually, like, okay with it.”

“No.”

“Yeah,” they confirmed, “You know, told her things like, it was just for a day, you’ll still get to see me, et cetera, et cetera, and she was just so broken at that point. So she stayed back, she watched him for like, some time, then she just left.”

“Like, left him?”

“She left the arena, yeah, and she called one of our friends and she was just—she was like, hysterically crying, like sobbing, and she was like, ‘I can’t do this anymore’. And nobody could blame her. So she just, like, went back, and packed her stuff. Then Harry caught her, like before she left, and she broke up with him.”

“For good?”

“Yeah, they never went back together after that,” they said, “And for the longest time, Y/N was devastated. It’s because—when you’re in a relationship, it’s like an investment. Like you invest with your time, with your energy, your efforts, your—your mental health, everything, and in a way, it felt like Y/N lost.”

“And what about Harry?”

“Look, Harry will never love anyone the way he loves Y/N, period,” they said, “He’s still not over her, he’s still not over their relationship, still not over what he’s done. He’s still, like, constantly beating himself up for it.”

“I can’t say I feel too bad, honestly.”

“It’s Karma in a way, I guess.”

“But how did he take it when Y/N got into a new relationship? Because Y/N and Joe Keery have been a hot topic ever since they got together.”

“God, he was absolutely crushed,” they said, “Joe is a great guy. He’s a great, great guy. He treats Y/N so well, puts her first, supports her, defends her. He’s—He’s basically the boyfriend Y/N truly deserves and Harry sees that.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t too far ago when he defended her on Instagram after Harry’s song about her got leaked.”

“Yeah, he’s just—he’s incredible.”

“Do you know when they met?”

“They met in 2021 if I remember correctly. They had a mutual friend, I think it was a creative director or something who worked on Stranger Things. And Joe had the biggest crush on her back then,” Kyle answered.

“Yeah, yeah, I remember he said that in an interview.”

“Yeah, and then they met again in, like, early 2022 as well, then after the breakup, like, I don’t know three months later, they went out for some coffee, then it was just—like really casual for a while even though Joe was smitten, but Y/N didn’t want to rush anything.”

“Can’t blame her.”

“Yeah, nobody can. So yeah, they took their time and everything.”

“But Harry’s not over her.”

“Harry’s not over her,” Kyle confirmed.

“God, that was heavy.”

It wasn’t long before Deux Moi and their guest moved to another celebrity gossip, making Joe pause before he stared at his phone for a few moments.

Everything was out in the open.

Between your sleeping state and Joe’s stressed one, was Harry who now seemed to get only bad news from his manager and friend, Jeff.

Going on social media was like a nightmare.

Not only was Harry getting cancelled, but so were Olivia and Jeff, while supportive messages, tweets, and edits were being sent your way.

“We owe Y/N an apology” was among the trends, sitting right on top of the 4 other relevant trending topics about you. After it came “#HarryStylesIsOver”, “Y/Noe”, “Holivia”, and “Thank you deuxmoi”.

The latter was a surprise to everyone, but never did anyone guess that a day would come where people would thank the celebrity gossip platform.

user

nobody believed me when I said y/n and harry were together and that he fucked her over. fuck harry, fuck olivia, fuck jeff, and fuck dwd.

user

Imagine your worst mistake being that you trusted the person you loved the most. #HarryStylesIsOver

user

WE OWE Y/N AN APOLOGY? NO! YOU owe her an apology because some of us still stuck by her side and knew that she wasn’t the evil guy in this. now yall wanna talk

user

idk who “kyle” is but thank you

user

I TOLD YOU HOLIVIA WAS FAKE!!! I TOLD YOU YNRRY WAS REAL!!!!

Countless of tweets, some angry, some sad, some supportive were being added by the second and Joe found himself growing nervous for when you woke up.

It was inevitable for you to wake up. A day of sleeping one was one you appreciated, and even more so after you freshened up and were ready for a day of doing absolutely nothing but chill with your boyfriend.

“Good morning,” you said, taking notice of Joe flinching on the couch, causing you to giggle, “Sorry.”

Joe forced a smile, standing up and meeting you halfway to press his lips to yours as he wrapped one arm around your waist, his other hand going into your hair to bring your head closer to his. Pulling back, you smiled, “Okay then,” you joked.

“Good sleep?”

You hummed, wrapping your arms around him in a hug as you closed your eyes in bliss, “So good.”

“You deserve it,” he said, kissing your head, “What do you want to have for breakfast?”

“I don’t know, anything,” you answered, “Some scrambled eggs sound nice.”

“And buttered toast?”

“And buttered toast.”

“Avocados?”

“God, I love you,” you shook your head with a smile, leaning to kiss him again, “Let me just grab my phone a-“

“Let’s not,” Joe quickly said.

Your eyebrows furrowed, a smile of confusion on your face.

“I just—I figured—We can just—We can disconnect for the day, how does that sound?” He asked, “Leave our phones, turn them off, just-just enjoy your break.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, tilting your head as you looked at him.

“You’re hiding something,” you said.

“No, I’m not.”

“Then why are your cheeks and ears all pink?” You raised an eyebrow, “What’s going on?”

“Is it too bad that I want us to be together without any distractions? Without any—”

“Joe.”

He pursed his lips, avoiding eye contact as he looked at the ceiling for a moment.

“What’s going on?” You asked again.

A sigh escaped his lips before he looked at you, “Someone—Someone you know just—” He paused.

You raised an eyebrow again, “Just what? Did someone die? Joe, oh my God, di—”

“No, no, nobody’s dead, baby. Everyone’s fine. Everyone’s okay,” he assured.

“Okay, then what is it?”

“Well, um,” he cleared his throat, “Uh, someone—you know,” he shrugged.

“I don’t.”

“How do they say this?” He muttered, scratching his chin, “Someone spilled the tea?”

“The tea?” You asked, “What tea?”

“Someone went on a podcast and they—they basically said every single thing about your past relationship. Your relationship with Harry.”

You stayed quiet, eyebrows going up, “Oh.”

“Oh,” Joe nodded.

“Everything?”

“From the moment you met,” he said quietly.

“Oh,” you repeated.

“Yeah,” he nodded unsurely, “I’m—I’m really sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said quietly, “It’s not your fault. It’s—It’s nobody’s fault,” you added, “Who did that?”

“It was a guy, I think? Went with the name Kyle, like a pseudonym, but I don’t know. They could’ve distorted the voice, could be anyone.”

You hummed.

Joe looked at you, trying to asses your state before asking, “How are we feeling?”

“I’m not so surprised, honestly,” you answered, “I’m just—I’m so done with this, you know? I don’t know. I think—I think I just don’t care anymore.”

He nodded, rubbing your back soothingly, “I get it,” he said, “Do you want to address it?” He asked, “You know, they’re—everyone’s sending you support, some cute shit.”

“No, I won’t. I won’t address it,” you answered before sighing, “You know what I want?”

“What?”

“That scrambled eggs, the buttered toast, and those fucking avocados.”

To you, the day went well, and you knew that a huge reason why was that you did actually decide to take Joe’s advice and not check your phone. Instead, you and Joe had cooked breakfast and lunch together, had watched Brooklyn Nine-Nine, and decided to order takeout for the night.

To Joe, his mind was restless.

In a way, he felt like he needed to do something. Sure, he posted about you, he liked standing up for you, and he absolutely loved being a total sap on main—publicly and openly loving you, but something didn’t feel right.

He was smiling all night, loving on you and laughing with you, but his mind was all over the place. It wasn’t until you were asleep in his arms that he did what he felt was right.

Opening Instagram, he never had thought that he’d be the one to type in “harry styles” in the search bar and tap on your ex’s profile, but that was what he did before he also tapped on “Message”.

Strange enough, Joe was calm as he typed in his text:

Hey, Harry. I was hoping we can meet up soon to talk.

And stranger enough, was that his text was seen no more than 2 minutes after he sent it.

5 minutes passed before Joe received a reply.

Hello. Sure. When and where?

Joe then replied:

I’m currently in New Mexico but I’ll be in LA on Tuesday. Would that work for you?

And as if Harry had no idea that Joe was with you as you worked on Oppenheimer, he replied back:

Yes, I’m staying in LA for the time being. Tuesday works well.

Joe replied:

Great. We can meet at 6pm at my house since it’s the most private.

Harry then replied:

Okay. Is this about the recent podcast?

Joe replied:

Yes and no.

Harry replied:

Does Y/N know about this?

Joe replied:

No, she doesn’t.

Harry replied:

Okay. Send me the location and I’ll see you then.

Harry would have been lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, because of course he was. As someone who got into the acting world, scenarios ran through his mind like the ones he was offered; Joe was going to beat him up, or he was going to blackmail him, or he was going to tell him that Harry was the best choice for you and that didn’t seem like the worst scenario, although a cliché.

Days seemed to fly, or so it seemed to both Harry and Joe. The meeting was one that was discreet with neither’s friends knowing about it, even as Harry rang the doorbell to yours and Joe’s home.

Opening the door, Joe offered a very small smile, only stepping aside to let Harry in, “Come in,” he said.

Harry’s stomach was in twists; clammy palms against the sides of his thighs, erratic heartbeat that would definitely need medical attention at some point because there was no way that was normal.

“Want anything to drink?” Joe asked.

“Um, no, thank you,” Harry answered, sitting when Joe motioned towards the teal-colored couch—your favorite color on couches, although you wished you could have a cream-colored one but those seemed to be too much work, Harry remembered.

Joe sat on the chair opposite to it, a space between the two men that seemed occupied by tension and lingering awkwardness.

“Look,” Joe began, voice steady and calm, “I know this is weird. Like, really weird,” he said, “But I felt like it needed to happen.”

Harry pursed his lips, hands linked together as he looked at your boyfriend.

“I think we needed to talk, a long time ago. With how messy your relationship with Y/N was, and—and all the mess that’s been happening after it came to an end, I think I needed to talk to you,” Joe said, “Because it’s reaching a point where Y/N can’t catch her breath before something just, crashes down on her.”

Harry nodded.

“Look, I know I’m not your favorite person on earth,” Joe said, “And—No offense, you’re not mine either and I think that’s normal,” he put his hand out, “You’re her ex, I’m her boyfriend, and the situation isn’t ideal. It never really is. But I do respect you because you’re—you’re someone Y/N really appreciated at some point, and regardless of what happened, I know she still respects you and still cares about you because she’s just that kind of person.”

Harry, again, nodded.

“But I do know that with your status—with your place in the industry, you can put an end to all that,” he said, “It’s definitely hard getting over Y/N. I can’t imagine what you’re going through and I—To be honest with you, I don’t want to. I don’t want to be in your place, it’s not something I wish upon anyone, even you,” Joe said, “But I’m going to need you to just—to stop getting into her life like that. It’s not good for her, it’s not good for you, even, it’s not good for anyone.”

“How am I getting into her life?” For the first time, Harry spoke.

Joe sighed, “I know you still like her pictures on Instagram, you still—you’re not a stupid guy, Harry, you know exactly what I mean,” he said, “And like I said, I know that with your status, you can keep things on the down low. Give her some peace.”

“You know I wasn’t the person who said all these things on the podcast, right?”

“I’m not saying you are.”

“You’re—I think—I think you’re implying that I had something to do with it.”

“I never did,” Joe said, “But I do know that your management wants your name to be everywhere.”

“So, you are implying it,” Harry chuckled quietly.

“Look,” Joe took a breath, leaning forward a little, “I believe everything Y/N says, and I believed her when she told me that you aren’t your management. Your principles don’t align. I don’t know why you don’t take matters into your own hands. I don’t know whether it’s because you’re unsure, you’re scared, nervous, I don’t know, man, but what I’m saying is that you need to sit down with your management and actually set thing straight. Not for you, but for Y/N,” he said, “I get that they always say bad publicity is still publicity but we all know that’s bullshit.”

Harry stayed quiet.

“I don’t think you’re the worst person,” Joe said, “I think you do some stupid shit but I know you love Y/N and—and I can’t blame you for it and I can’t even ask you to just stop and move on, because having Y/N is one of the best goddamn gifts anyone can have.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Harry mumbled with a quiet chuckle.

“So all I’m asking is for you to talk with your management and do Y/N a favor.”

“Do her a favor or do you a favor?” Harry found himself asking, “Because I think—I think It seems like you’re trying to save your relationship.”

“There’s nothing for me to save it from,” Joe instantly said, “It doesn’t need to be saved. I’m confident in my relationship with Y/N.”

And that seemed to shut Harry up.

“What you and her had—that was real. It was great, until it wasn’t. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not gloating but I didn’t meddle in and ruin what you have. I waited and I kept my distance and things fell into place and it’s not my fault your relationship went to shit, man,” he said, “I’m trying to be nice. To be respectful, and I’m asking nicely.”

Harry stayed quiet for a moment before sucking in a breath, “Okay.”

Joe nodded slowly, “Alright.”

“Did you tell her? About this?” Harry motioned between them.

“No, I didn’t,” Joe answered, “And I won’t tell her.”

“She doesn’t really like secrets,” Harry said with a chuckle, joking.

“It’s only so that she doesn’t feel like I had to tell you to be a decent person,” Joe shot back.

Harry’s eyebrows went up, “Wow,” he nodded, “Thanks for that,” he sarcastically said.

Joe nodded, “No problem.”

“Well,” Harry let out a breath, “I’ll do what I have to do,” he said, “But um—Thank you, for being respectful.”

“Like I said, she respects you, so will I.”

#backstage girlfriend #backstage gf!yn #harry styles imagine #joe keery imagine #harry styles angst imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #joe keery one shot #harry styles blurb #joe keery x reader

792 notes · View notes

siredtoyourlips · 9 months

Text

~Eyes don't lie~ Regulus Black

Summary: When Regulus broke up with you in the worst way possible, you can't find it in your yourself to move on. Your heart is broken and he wants to explain himself do you forgive him or not.

900 words:)

Warnings: Angst, Mean!Reggie, swearing, crying, flashbacks ( bold and italicized) Kissing, eating out, nutity, titty sucking, hickies, not proof-read, first fic so beware. And more:)

The way his lips felt on my lips, on my skin. It made me feel alive again. He made me feel alive again. His smile, his laugh, the love in his eyes when he looked at me. This love has taken over me, all I think about is him. I can never take him off my mind and I never want to. More like I never wanted to.

I always wanted him to be on my mind, now all I want is to get him off my mind, I hate that all I think about is him. I wish he would have told me why. That night it happened was horrible. I thought he was so in love with me yet how could he do this? after all I gave him. After all I put into the relationship.

'Reggie, stop. You're scaring me. what's wrong'. I said, he looked scared and hurt. He looked me in my eyes and blatantly said: 'I want to break up'. Those five words hit hard but not as hard as the next words that he said 'I don't love you, I never have. I should have left you months ago but you're such a cry baby I just didn't want to deal with it'.

Was it true? did he hate me? was he playing me? I know I'm sensitive but a crybaby. Now I'm at a Slytherin party with some friends but all I can think about is him and it doesn't help that he's across the room with some Slytherin whore. I feel tears going down my face as I excuse myself and of course the second that I start crying he sees me.

I need to get out of here as fast as I can so I go upstairs to my room but get stopped right before I can go into my room. I look up and it's him it's Regulus freaking Black. My ex, the love of my life, the man who shattered my heart. Without sounding like a pathetic heartbroken girl I mutter ' what do you want Regulus' and that look once again, those eyes. Those beautiful, grey eyes that once had so much love now are filled with sorrow.

'Talk to me Mon Amour'. What, how could he say that. 'Don't, just don't'. He backed up and looked sad. ' Please let me explain, in private. Then you can decide if you forgive me or not please Y/n'. God, I'm going to regret this aren't I. ' fine' and we walk into my room.

'Last month when I broke up with you and when I said all those things. I didn't mean them, I don't mean a word'. what. he didn't mean them, what does that mean. Before I could get a word out he spoke again.

'I made a promise to my mother and I had to fulfill it. The night it happened was our two year anniversary and we had plans and I forgot about it. Because my mother called me to the house to' Regulus looks to the floor and I saw a year run down his check, he looked so sad but I was still so confused. 'Why did she need you Reggie'. With his head still down he mumbled just loud enough for me to hear. 'She summoned me to the manor to meet the dark lord and get my death mark'. Then he just falls to his knees in front of me and starts balling.

'Je t'aime tellement mon amour s'il te plait pardonne moi. Tu es l'air que je respire, tu es la raison pour laquelle je vis'

('I love you so much my love please forgive me. You are the air I breathe, you are the reason I live')

'Why didn't you just tell me Reggie? I wouldn't have been mad. I love you'. I say as I lean down to kiss him. That kiss lasted forever, his eyes lit up and after he wouldn't let go of my waist. 'I thought if I let you go it wouldn't hurt as much but it hurt worse, I never want to let you go and I won't again' he kisses me again and picks me up and brings me to my bed.

'You ok with this Mon Amour'? 'Yes Reggie'. He looks me in the eyes and he takes my dress off and kisses down my body. Making sure he leaves marks so everyone knows who I belong to. He slowly inches down to my panties and takes them off and throws them somewhere in the room for me to find later.

'Sit up for a minute chérie' and I do and be takes off my bra and goes straight to my nipples sucking and leaving marks. He goes from one to the other and it feels so good until he stops. And looks at me ' just you wait mon chéri, just you wait' and goes back down to the place I need him to most and starts eating me out. It feels like its been years since I've been touched ' FUCK. Feels so good Reggie, keep going and be does. And it feels so good. ' Fuck Reg, I'm cumming!!'. Next thing I know He's pressing a wet rag to where it's sensitive and kissing my thighs. And I know everything is going to be just right.

#regulus black smut #regulus black angst #regulus black #regulus black fluff #harry potter fanfiction #smut #hurt/comfort

66 notes · View notes

pompadourpink · 1 year

Text

Les autres pronoms

Possessive pronouns (mine, ours)

Masc. sg.: le mien, le tien, le sien, le nôtre, le vôtre, le leur

Fem. sg.: la mienne, la tienne, la sienne, la nôtre, la vôtre, la leur

Masc. pl.: les miens, les tiens, les siens, les nôtres, les vôtres, les leurs

Fem. pl.: les miennes, les tiennes, les siennes, les nôtres, les vôtres, les leurs

Ex: tu pensais que tu avais pris tes lunettes mais c'étaient les miennes - you thought you had taken your glasses but they were mine

Demonstrative pronouns

They replace demonstrative determiners followed by a noun

They can be one of three types: prepositional (c'est celle de Laure - it's Laure's), relative (les robes en soie sont celles que je préfère - silk dresses are the ones I prefer), or nominal (j'ajoute à cette lettre celle de mon fils - I add to this letter the one of my son).

Singular - celui (m), celle (f): celle en bleu - the blue one

Plural - ceux (m), celles (f): ceux-là sont mieux - those are better

Neutral - ceci - this (rare), cela - that, ça - this (short for cela): ça ira - that will be fine, c’/ce*: c’est un chien - this is a dog, ce sont des chats - those are cats

N.B. Adverbial particles -ci (short for ici) and -là are added to indicate the distance. Celui-ci means this one (close), celles-là those ones (far away).

*Do not mix up the masculine singular demonstrative determiner ce that is followed by a singular masculine noun (ce chat est blanc - this cat is white) and the demonstrative pronoun ce that is followed by est/sont (is/are) or a relative pronoun (c'est ce qu'il m'a dit - that is what he told me; ce sont les chaussures qu'il a choisies - those are the shoes he chose)

N.B. C'est is used with a noun: c'est un gentil garçon - he's a nice boy, an adverb: c'est si joli - it's so pretty, or a masculine singular adjective when talking about a situation or activity: c'est facile - it's easy. Il/Elle est is used with adjectives when talking about living beings or things: elle est grande - she's tall, in expressions: il était une fois - there one was, before a past participle: elle est partie - she's gone.

Relative pronouns

Relative pronouns represent the nouns placed in front of them

Que/qui

subject (qui), when talking about living beings or things and describing them, placed before a verb: la fille qui porte un pull rouge aime la glace - the girl that is wearing a red jumper likes ice cream

indirect object (qui), when talking about people, after a preposition, placed before either a determiner and a noun or a pronoun (la fille à qui tu as parlé aime la glace - the girl you talked to likes ice cream)

direct object (que), when talking about living beings or things, placed before either a determiner and a noun or a pronoun (la fille que tu aimes aime la glace - the girl you love likes ice cream)

Quoi

object, when talking about things, often vague (something, nothing): c’est ce à quoi j’ai pensé toute la journée - that is what I thought about all day long

Dont

possessive phrase (complément de nom): je bois dans une tasse dont la anse est cassée - I’m drinking from a mug that has a broken handle

indirect object, equivalent of "of which": le livre dont je t’ai parlé est sorti - the book I told you about is out

adjective object: les filles sont allées à un concert de Rihanna, dont elles sont fan: the girls have gone to a Rihana’s concert, whom they are fans of

Où

adverbial phrase of place: la chambre où je dors est la plus grande de la maison - the room I sleep in is the biggest in the house

adverbial place of time: septembre est le mois où je suis née - September is the month in which I was born

Compound relative pronouns

Auquel, duquel, lequel (marriage of prepositions à, de, le and of simple relative pronouns)

subject - rare, literary: j’ai appelé ma mère, laquelle m’a informée de ton accident - I called my mum who told me about your accident)

object, about things or animals: les chaises sous lesquelles je suis cachée sont en bois - the chairs under which I am hidden are made of wood; c’est l’endroit duquel il est parti - this is the place from which he left; les hommes auxquels elle parle sont allemands - the men she is talking to are German

Neutral relative pronouns

They are built by adding ce, which can be roughly translated as "the thing", to dont, que, qui and used when the antecedent isn't mentioned or when it's a clause often after a comma.

Ce qui is the subject of the verb that follow: je ne sais pas ce qui est tombé - I don’t know what fell down (word by word I don't know the thing that has fallen), j’ai eu un accident, ce qui explique pourquoi je suis en retard - I got in an accident, which explains why I’m late

Ce que or ce qu' is used as a direct object and is generally followed by a subject and a verb: ce que je te demande, c’est d’être à l’heure - what I’m asking you is to be on time (word by word the thing that I ask of you it is to be on time), c’est ce que je voulais dire - that’s what I meant

Ce dont is used as the preposition de’s object: ce dont j’ai peur, c’est qu’il revienne - what I'm afraid of is that he will come back (word by word the thing of which I'm afraid, it is that he comes back), c’est précisément ce dont je veux te parler - that is precisely what I want to talk to you about

N.B. To stress a point, we can use ce qui/que/dont + c’est/ce sont: ce qui me plaît le plus, c’est ta robe - what I most like is your dress.

Movie: Pierrot le fou - Jean-Paul Godard, 1965

#pronoms #basique #grammaire

216 notes · View notes

kayslibrary · 4 months

Text

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡A night to remember⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

A/N~ hiiiiii guys!!!!!!! tis is Moi :) I'm back...I think. I try to incorporate writing into my schedule but I be getting sidetracked with life so it's kinda hard right now BUT I did draft up an apology for you people so hopefully you'll accept it <:) Anywho please enjoy

Ex-flings to something more perhaps?

Based on the song; A Night to Remember by Laufey and Beabadobee

Synopsis; y/n and George were flings at one point but, y/n broke things off when she found that both they and George were getting too involved they had a little falling out and were no longer sleeping with each other…UNTIL one night she heard a knock at her door and who was it? George. But why? Maybe he wanted to talk or more than a few words from her….

warnings- SMUT eheheh <:))/ reader is afab so just letting you guys know

⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°⋆˙⟡♡✧˖

Swore I'd seen you before

There was a faint knock at the door, you open it to find the last person in the world you’d see on your doorstep. There were no words spoken for minutes that seemed like years. “George…” you sigh, breaking the silence, he says nothing but his eyes say everything, you step to the side so he can pass through and into your home.

Watched you walk through the door

You watched, no practically stalked as you watched him make his way around as if he knew the place like the back of his hand. (spoiler; he did) “George” you spoke again, he turned to you without saying a word.

Something in your eye

Reminded me of somebody I used to know

He stares you down ever so slightly, his eyes displaying emotions you’ve come to notice over time, passion….anger…lust. you take the time to zero in on his features. His eyes, nose, lips, oh how you miss kissing them….so plump and soft. You snap out of this trance when you hear the floorboards creak and groan, “What are you-” he cuts you off by kissing you softly.

You touch my back

I took your hand

“Fuck I've missed you” he groans into your mouth as his arm snakes around your waist. “Me too..me too,” you mutter without a thought. “y/n..can I? I need you so fucking bad” he pleads softly. You trace his hand as you look into his eyes once more “Yes” you confirm, solidifying your fate.

Something from your touch felt shockingly familiar

And I'd swore I'd seen you before

Oh, I swore I'd seen you before

You gasp when you feel his hand trail down from your chest to your stomach. his touch felt like sparks and lightening on your skin. “So fucking pretty…all for me” he purred.

Underneath the sheets, you enchanted me

And whispered sweet nothings in my ear

“That's it..come for me pretty give me what mine” he whispers in your ear as you come for him for the 2nd time that night. “Fuck- fuck” you whine, his hand still working his magic on your clit. “So fucking sensitive” you choke out while grabbing his hand “No no..you can take it, take it for me like a good girl” George mutters “I can’t George please” you whine as he lets up and leans in to kiss you passionately.

I shivered beneath you

All wrapped up in embers

You both lay in your bed under the blankets, you don't know how you got here but in your bed nonetheless, you shiver against him “Why are you shaking?” he asks, “m’ cold” you stutter in response. Instead of him getting up to turn up the heat, he pulls you closer to him. His hands wrapped around you, your head on his chest his heartbeat singing to you. “Why did you come back” you quipped, “I missed us. I miss being in your presence and you’ve been weighing on my heart.. literally” he jokes which causes you to both chuckle. “There was no us tho..” you lift your head, and he sits up straight to meet your face “I want there to be a ‘us’ if you’ll let me try” he smiles “Let me think about it……” you stand silent for 5 seconds. “We can work towards it George but I wouldn't mind” you propose “Really?” “mhm,” he cracks the largest smile he can muster as he attacks you in a fit of kisses.

⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°It was a night to remember⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°

I hope my apology made it to your heart and made you guys accept it because i really worked hard to draft it up :) no but in all honesty i FUCKIN LOVE THIS SONG anyways see you guys laterr

#fuck jkr #harry potter #george wealsey imagine #george wealsey x reader #i dont support jkr #george weasley #george wealsey #george wealsey smut #fluff #hogwarts

22 notes · View notes

ghostiiess · 1 year

Text

[NSB HEADCANONS] - comforting them about your ex

★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★

pov: the boys' girl has an ex and they go back into her life. how would the boys react? the girl consoles them saying they are the love of their life and that her ex is a piece of poop :)

warnings: ex walking back into our lives, comfort, insecurities, self-esteem and confidence trouble, scared of loosing the person, reverse-comfort.. i think that's all? let me know if theres more!

type: comfort (reverse-comfort)

members: all of them

OLIVER

i feel oli wouldn't really be jealous, because he know how he is and most of the time, he doesn't really mind, he's a free type of guy and doesn't really mind if others boys are looking at you because at the end of the day, he know you're only his and that you only love him

but for this plot, let's say he is, okay?? 😭

this man would be a bit sad

like really sad

but would he tell you? nah.

nevahhh

nah but for real.

he's jealous, but at the same not really

it really depends on his mood

i feel like if he saw your ex, he wouldn't want to talk about it

:( poor oli

his heart is so pure and all

you would know if he's sad or angry

he was completely silent and was holding your hand a bit tighter than usual

you knew something was up

he would be like ☹

"what's wrong?" you asked

"was it your ex?" he asked softly

you quickly nodded and hear him sigh

"what's up, oli?"

"he just looked so.. good? like.. he looked so confident and professional? idk, i just wish i was also like that"

he doesn't want you to be sad and all :(

"oli, baby, you know you are the love of my life, right? i don't care at all if he have more fashion style than you.. and i'll be honest, compared to you, he look like a trash can.. you're handsome in your way and i love it."

happy oli!

let's protect this man energy, thank you!!!

(rest of the boys under the cut!)

SEBASTIAN

bye he would try to act so cool and so flirty with you???

like your ex really thought he still had a chance with you?

we know seb, he's the baby (i can't believe he's actually 20, like what the hell??? the baby of the group IS FREAKIN 20 YEARS OLD OMG- anyways let's continue) of nsb..

he get jealous easily

i mean, i'm sorry, but hey it's seb we're talking about, he didn't really had a lot of relationships in his life and he doesn't really know what to actually do and all, like he still have to learn some things and all

he's simply not used to relationships and all!

he doesn't want you to walk away haha

but like seb, we won't

imagine having a sebastian moy kind of boy in your life and leaving him 😭 nah because seb is too sweet and caring towards us the stars and also with others people, like please IS HE EVEN REAL

sorry i'm done simping for this boy, but like damn

back on track!!!!!!

when seb saw your ex, he felt like something wasn't right

he didn't want to tell you how he felt at the moment

like if he was scared you'd judge him or smth

but you know him pretty well!!

so ofc, he couldn't just say "i'm not jealous!" because you and him would both know it's not even true

when your ex went to you and had the guts to ask for your new phone number, seb lost it

"back off, she's mine!"

"jeez, calm down.." your ex while walking away

"what a weirdo he is, can't believe you dated someone like him.."

not seb trying to make you say he's better than your ex 😭

i mean it's true, sorry not sorry, seb's better than your ex

he was so mushy in the inside like if you were going to go for your ex instead of him

"happily, you found me... and you only love me, right?"

"i do" you said while taking his hand

after a few seconds of it, he finally snapped out of it

"but didn't you think his hair were better than mine?? i mean, idk how to do mine, they're all natural right now and-"

"seb, your hair is so much better looking than his.. in fact, you're so much better than him"

he was smiling, but inside he was screaming

"i'm glad to hear that. he's so weird to have let you go"

you smiled

"but i'm glad he did because otherwise i wouldn't have you as my wonderful girlfriend"

and flirty seb is back, everyone! 🥰

JUSTIN

we love our jp's type of jealousy

i feel like either he would be super insecure (but not too much) or a bit sassy

bye, he reminds me of sunoo from enha 😚

like either he would ask himself if he's good enough to be with you

or either he'll be like "bye, i'm so much better than him!!!"

like, he would see your ex and make fun of him

he's only doing that because he's a bit insecure, because what the hell, the guy is so good looking

and he's scared to be replaced by him

because his outfit looked really good compared to his, his hair were in a perfect wave, his face was clear

he was just a bit jealous to see that ur ex still might have feelings for you again because the way he looked at you was really.. something

but ofc he won't tell you that

what if you made fun of him?

nah, he can't just say that

so ofc he'll stay quiet for a while and try to keep his jealousy inside of him

but after a few seconds, he just can't help it lol

he have to put your ex down or smth 😭 he have to convince himself he's way better than him

"damn y/n, check his outfit.. it's so boring!"

"my outfit look so much sophisticated compared to his! am i right?"

"fuck y/n, why is he walking like that?!"

"hum.. why is he looking at you like that? only i, can do that"

like bye-

justin just doesn't want to say he's jealous

he'll never tell you that he is

but ofc you know him

you know he's jealous

jp just never act this way

"jp? are you jealous?"

"me? jealous? hahahaha you're so funny, baby"

you rolled your eyes

"you know you don't have to fake your emotions with me, right..?"

he looked at you and was like 😶

"what do you mean? i'm not jealous!"

you sighed and looked in his beautiful eyes

"i can tell you are. you haven't stop talking about him"

he took your hand and sighed

"fine, then. i guess i'm a little bit super very really a little bit jealous.."

you took his hand and kissed his palm

"justin, baby, i only love you, and i always will. you don't have to be scared or insecure because of him. i broke up with him for a reason and i wouldn't ever get back with him even if i was paid 10,000$. the way he treat womens are definitively not something worth it."

he smiled and kissed the top of your head

"thank you, my love. it reassured me."

"even if seeing you jealous is cute, please tell me whenever you feel like that. i want you to be happy"

then he smiled

"just a reminder that your smile is one of the prettiest thing in the world, so if you ever feel insecure, just think about your smile, okay?"

"are you only dating me because i have a nice smile?" he smiled and laughed softly

"what can i say? it's one of the thing that made me attracted to you" you said

RYAN

hahahahahahahahahahaha run.

nah i'm just kidding, but like.. not very

this man would be really jealous

not in a possessive way like "omg don't you dare to look at him!!"

but more like in a way "you're mine"

when he saw your ex, he froze

"is it your..ex?" he asked while whispering

you nodded like if nothing ever happened, but still avoiding any eye contact with the dear ex-boyfriend you had

to me, ryan would be like the show jealous bf when it comes to physical and all, like he would hold your hand, kiss it and talk a bit louder to show his love to you

but he would also be the type to be like "i'm not even showing any emotions on my face rn" type of guy

he only show he's jealous when he hug you, when he want to kiss you or any stuff like that

like he said in one of seb's cartalk (if i remember correctly!), he's not the type to do pda in front of everyone

so when ryan started to hold your hand and started to kiss you on your cheek and on the top of your head, you knew something was wrong

and it didn't took you 3 seconds to realize he was jealous

"ryan? you jealous?"

he took your hand and kissed it

"why would i be?"

"you're doing pda in public"

"isn't pda supposed to be in public?"

"stop avoiding my question, nguyen"

he rolled his eyes and sighed

"i am" he whispered

you kissed him on his lips and smiled

"ryan, baby, cutie, i only have eyes for you"

"i love you so much, ryan. you don't even have to worry about him. i only see you and i'll never see someone more amazing, and funny, and hardworking, and caring as you.. you're mine and i'm yours, you don't have to worry your pretty little head, 'kay?"

he smiled

also he was blushing really hard because he had to turn around

"y/n, i swear you're making me weak"

"im glad"

after a few seconds, he looked at him and laughed softly

"i bet he's not even playing genshin or valorant, what a boring man.." (no hate to the people who don't play these games, i just think ryan would say smth like that in this kind of conversation 😭)

KANE

olala

this man

he's jealous

but also he's trying his best to not really show it?

like people can tell he is

but also not really

he just look sad tbh 😭

he would def hold your hand FOR SURE

and like kiss the palm of it or smth

i think he would be a sad jealous type of guy

like..

he would see your ex and his smile would fade down

not because he's sad like "omg i saw your ex and it made me sad"

more like because he cares a lot about you

he really do

and it make him sad to see the boy who made you cry, made you hurt.. walking like that like nothing ever happened

he was this close to go see him and say smth so your ex would know it's about him, but people wouldn't understand

like if he cheated on you, he would (probably) say something like that

"hey y/n, i think i'll have a CHEAT day today? i feel like this would be appropriate for me to have since SOMEONE did have a CHEATING DAY, right.." he said while making eye contact with him at the end of the sentence

like people could think kane's talking abt cheat day like the day when you allow yourself to eat a little bit more of calories/sugar

so yeah, hahahaha he would do that if he had the courage and the guts

because nah bye he's too embarassed and shy to do that kind of thing

so kane would just hold your hand and smile like nothing ever happened

"y/n.. i love you"

"i love you too, kane"

he couldn't help it but keep looking at your ex boyfriend

"kane? i asked you a question!" you said

he quickly turned his head and put his eyes in yours and smiled like he wasn't looking at the boy who used to be at his place

"oh sorry, i wasn't listening. what was the question?"

"i asked you if you wanted us to renews our subscription to crunchyroll.. i just saw some gift cards"

he quickly nodded his head and looked at your ex still again

"yeah, we can do that"

you looked at the person who he was looking at and sighed

"are you jealous, kane?"

he sighed and nodded without even saying anything

"aw baby.. you don't have to be. i only love you and i always will. my ex may look good to you, but in my eyes, he isn't. i wouldn't want to have him back in my life, like.. at all."

"you really mean what you just said?"

you smiled and kissed his cheek

"ofc, i do. and i always will"

you knew he was a bit jealous of your ex

"i love you to the moon and back, kane. i know you think he's probably good looking or something like that, but trust me.. he really isn't, at least not to me. i only love and it will always be this way. you're mine and i'm yours."

DARREN

this one won't be really long since like i said in my mtl jealous (link here if you want to read it!), darren wouldn't be too jealous

but at the same time, yes? is it understandable or not 😭

he would see your ex and be like "why is he looking at you like that???"

no, because only dar' has the right to look at you the way your ex just did

so when he would see your ex looking you up and down, he would quickly give them a middle finger (in his mind ofc)

because in reality, he would be like 🙂 "everything's fine!"

he would *ofc* hold your hand and start to kiss you

when he's jealous, he show it with physical touch, attention... things like that!

like omg 🤭 he's a bit showy showy with you when he's jealous

also, idk why but i feel darren would see your ex and be like "HOLY SH!T, HE HAVE NO ASS" then laugh

i'm just kidding but for real, i feel like dar' would be a bit insecure about it for like 5 minutes and forget about it

"i only love you, darren, you know that, right?" you said while knowing he was starting to feel a bit jealous

he quickly nodded and smiled softly like nothing ever happened

"ofc you do. did you see my ass?!"

no because i'm sorry, i know my hc are supposed to be like comforting and all lovey-dovey but like WE'RE TALKING ABOUT DARREN

i have to make it AT LEAST a bit more 😏 than the others

"yeah, yeah" you replied

he took your hand and kissed your lips and looked at your ex

"i bet he's jealous of me"

"yeah right"

"would you be jealous of me? like do you think i have a pretty ass?????"

"what???"

REGIE

tbh he wouldn't be jealous

like AT ALL

regie? jealous? pffffttttt? it's pretty rare

i feel this man wouldn't really be jealous because i feel regie's the most confident in the group and the more nonchalant like he doesn't really give a sh!t about your ex, he think he's poop

you're dating regie for a reason

and he know that you'll never be back with him

imma be honest with you guys, macalino wouldn't be jealous on a daily basis

but when he do (that's pretty rare), he's so clingy and all like cuddly with the other person (aka you)

like he would either hold your hand (yes every members hold your hand when they're jealous 💀) and kiss you at the top of your head

and he would look at your ex-boyriend and frowned

he would laugh at him bye-

"bruh why he is walking like that?"

"bro fucking thought he was being hot by walking in front of us like that"

nah but for real, he would make fun of the other person, it's not even a joke 😭

"regie, are you trying to hide your jealousy?"

he frowned

"what jealousy?"

"the one you have since you saw my ex walking in the shop"

he rolled his eyes

"babe, i love you, but you're imagining things"

you rolled his eyes and sighed

"yeah sure.."

after a few minutes, he would come closer to you and kiss you on your forehead

"i'm the only one you love, right?"

you frowned, but understood after a few seconds

"oooh you're so jealous!! i knew it!" you smirked

he sigh and looked away, ignoring your eyes

"okay maybe i am.. and what??"

you took his hand and pecked his lips

"regie, you're the only love for me, you don't have to worry about him. i only love you and nothing will change that"

with your sweet words, he smiled

it reassured him

you always knew what to say to him to make him feel better! :)

hope you guys liked it!! sorry it took so long :/

taglist (open! send an ask if you want to be in it!): @nsb-rkive @kentisbaby @firebenderwolf @hyuneee0

104 notes · View notes

humblequestvinyl · 2 years

Text

DETOUR

DETOUR, JJ MAYBANK X FEM!READER

APART OF THE HUMBLE QUEST SERIES

SUMMARY: after moving a couple hundred miles, dealing with a few bad ex’s and going off of the road that’s most traveled on, y/n realizes its the detour that brought her to the one person she loved the most.

inspired by detour by maren morris

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, death of a loved one, depression, anxiety, literal tooth rotting fluff its going to be bad.

lowercase is intentional!! word count: 1.6k

a/n: somebody tell me why this took me three months to write because i am so lazy hello??? also this was kind've fun for me to write. + stream humble quest: in rare form!!!

NEVER IN Y/N’S RIGHT MIND DID SHE THINK THAT MOVING 1,021.3 MILES AWAY FROM THE ABSOLUTE BITTER COLD, TO ONE OF THE MOST POPULAR TOURIST TOWNS WOULD DO HER ANY GOOD.

when the h/c girl moved away from forest city maine in the middle of january, she brought two distinct things with her.

the bitter bitter cold

the thick canadian accent that was attached to her.

the day the girl arrived, it was 20 degrees out, (a rarity for outerbanks), with it feeling like 10 degrees because of the windchill.

to say the least, the pogues were confused and pissed about the cold.

“who’s moving in with jack?”jj asked as he stood outside with john b, kie and pope, all four shivering to death.

“no clue, but i’m sure you’ll find out on monday.”john b cupped jj’s shoulder, giving him a grin, before they saw a h/c girl storm out of jacks house, with him following behind her.

“putain je ne veux pas être ici ! pourquoi emmy et toi ne pourriez-vous pas vivre tout seul à forest city!”the girl yelled, catching all the pogues off guard, not expecting that from her.

“parce que tu as moins de 18 ans et si tu n'étais pas venu vivre avec emmy ou moi, l'état t'aurait pris!”jack yelled back, and jj turned to pope, with a puzzling look on his face, “pope what are they speaking?”

“they’re speaking french!”

all the pogues looked to their left, seeing sarah walking towards them, and john b furrowed his eyebrows, “how did-?”

“taylor swift.”she cut him off, before she stood next to the group, watching the entire scene unfold, with the two arguing back in forth in french.

“Va te faire foutre!”the girl finally yelled, before storming off inside, and the five saw jack sigh, before he turned and saw the pogues.

“oh shit.”john b stated as they saw jack walking over to the group, and to say the least, the 26 year old looked stressed.

“so, whos that?”jj asked bluntly, causing kie to smack him upside the head.

“jj!”

“ow!”

jack chuckled, before pushing away the stray hairs from my face, “that's my sister.”

“and she’s from france?”jj questioned, causing john b to chuckle, and jack to laugh, “no. on the border of maine and canada.”

“that explains a lot.”

“do you guys just mind keeping an eye out for her at school?”jack brought up, trying to read the look on the pogues faces, “i’m honestly worried about her and don’t need her getting suspended.”

“yeah, shes going to need a tour guide right?”kie asked, and jack nodded before she looked over at sarah, “yeah, we’ve got her.”

“thank you guys.”jack said, before the six heard a door slam, and the h/c walked out of the house,

“jack!”

—-

“YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW.”

y/n turned her head to look at her brother who sat in the drivers seat as they sat outside of outer banks high school, waiting to go inside.

“is this some kind’ve joke?”she asked, with her thick french canadian accent peaking through, and jack gave her a stern look, “i have already told you i’m doing online school. i already paid for it.”

“and i told you that if you were going to be with me in outer banks, you were going to high school.”jack reminded her, causing her to roll her e/c eyes, “i cannot have you being at the house right now during the day while i’m out at work.”

“un - fucking - believable.”she muttered, before exiting the car after seeing it was 9 am, “putain de trou du cul.”

“i heard that.”jack told her as the two entered the school, and the 16 year old was not amused.

after getting the girl settled, jack had left, leaving y/n alone sitting across from the school’s principal, “you’re going to love it here y/n.” the girl bit her tongue from saying what she actually wanted to, and instead forced a smile before nodding, wanting nothing more than to go into the bathrooms and hide out for the rest of the day.

“i’m going to have someone whos in a few of your classes come and give you a tour of the school!”dr.folk exclaimed, before leaving her office for a moment and bringing back a gorgeous girl who had a bright smile on her face.

“y/n, this is kiara! shes going to be in most of your classes and giving you a tour of the school today!”dr.folk explained excitedly, before handing y/n her schedule, “alright! off you go girls!”

the two walked out of the office, and y/n looked to see how far they had walked before finally speaking up, “is she always like that?”

“yeah.”kiara chuckled as they turned down a different hallway, “you can call me kie by the way.”

“alright.”she nodded, before kie had started to give a tour of the school, pointing out everything she would need to know.

“and this is your class.”kie gave y/n a smile as they stopped outside of the history room, “i’ll come find you before lunch and we can hang there.”

“thanks kie.”y/n waved towards the girl, before walking in, seeing the entire class staring at her.

this was going to be fun.

—

“NOW WHO’S THIS?”

y/n’s head snapped towards the front of the table, seeing a blonde boy standing at the head of the table, causing kie to roll her eyes and smack hin, “this is y/n, now will you stop trying to be intimidating?”

“the french girl herself?”he questioned as he sat down next to the new girl, and y/n raised an eyebrow at him, “how did you-?”

“Va te faire foutre!”he imitated her accent, and her jaw dropped, “you know, you’re very loud.”

“connasse.”y/n muttered under her breath, causing kie to laugh, knowing that the girl had taught her what that meant only minutes before.

“what was that?”jj questioned, and y/n forced a smile as she took a sip of her starbucks drink.

“i said you had beautiful eyes.”she lied, seeing other people join the table, and jj scoffed.

“mhm. keep telling yourself that babes.”

—

FOUR ENTIRE MONTHS HAD PASSED, AND ALMOST EVERYTHING HAD CHANGED.

y/n had become one of the pogues, and spent almost all of her time with them, and when she wasn’t, she was working at the wreck which the pogues would visit often because of both her and kie.

on this day though, all the pogues were sitting on the beach, except for jj and y/n, who were out in the water, surfing.

well, trying to at least.

“babes your balance is off, that's why you keep falling whenever the waves come.”jj told the girl who was becoming more frustrated by the second.

jj had finally convinced y/n to let him teach her how to surf, and here they were, and she was getting frustrated after not getting the handle of it yet.

“it makes no sense though! i was fine on the sand!”she exclaimed as the two hung onto the board, taking a minute to catch their breath and figure out where she was going wrong.

“do you want me to do it with you?”jj questioned after a few moments, and y/n nodded, before the two got up onto the board, and waited for a wave to come in.

“other than your balance you’re doing good. do not beat yourself up over this.”jj told the girl, know how hard she was on herself all the time, “it’s your first time doing this. remember that.”

surprisingly, within the four months jj and y/n had grown extremely close, and jj was one of the only two people who had gotten through to her, hell he was the only one who was able to get through to her that was alive.

“alright, ready?”jj asked, and she nodded before they started towards a wave, trying to think positive, knowing her mom always said to think positive, and good things would happen.

the two caught the wave, and y/n’s face lit up, knowing she had finally gotten the hang of it, and all of the pogues cheered, “i got it!”

“i did it!”she cheered as the two reached the edge of the sand, “i did it!”

“you did it babes.”jj chuckled as she leaped into his arms, filled with joy and how proud she was of herself.

it took her almost 17 years, a couple of detours, but she realized in that moment she found her person. the one she could go to no matter what, and the one who knew everything about her. the highs, the lows, how to deal with her when she went on an angry tangent in french, and how to pick her up during some of the worst days of her life.

jj was that person for her, and even though it took her a few detours to get to him, she didn’t mind it.

as long as she get to be his, she didn’t mind a detour.

150 notes · View notes

charlesslut16 · 9 months

Note

BAE I NEED PART TWO FOR “ONLY HIM” 🩷🩷

-him only-

summary : charles punishes you for going to your ex's party...

PAIRING : charles leclerc x fem!reader

WARNINGS : 18+, NSFW; smut, badly translated french, curse words, dirty talk, daddy kink, p in v, oral (female receiving), degrading, sub/dom, fingering,possessive!boyfriend, rough sex, slight aftercare, spanking, unprotected sex (be safe!)

note : i hope you like it! It took very long as i didn't have any motivation but now here it is. Send in more requests, my loves!

masterlist / the first part

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

Charles walked behind you with a slick smirk on his face. He loved how obedient you were for him. As you knew what was coming when you came home.

Your punishment would be very long. Charles knew that you had only gone to your ex's party to get him angry, but you still needed to be punished. You are his girl, no one elses.

You both sat in the car, charles started the motor while you looked out of the window, thinking about all the ways that he would punish you. His hand laid on your thigh, squeezing from time to time.

The moment you walked through the door of your apartment, he had you pressed against the door, his lips attacking your neck and his hands grabbed your hips roughly.

“Allez dans notre chambre, déshabillez-vous et un avertissement de mon côté, ne vous touchez pas.” Charles growled against the shell of your ear, tore away from you, tapped your ass, to get you moving. Go into our bedroom, get undressed and a warning from my side, don't touch yourself.

You went into your room and, well, didn't do as you were told. Half of your clothes were on the floor, the other half on your body, And you started to touch yourself. You needed to release some heat, even if charles will be mad.

A loud moan came out of your mouth, which made sure that charles heard you, and he did. Charles barged into the room, grabbed your wrist to stop you from rubbing your clit, and glared at you.

“What do you think you are doing, slut?”

“Touching.”

“And what did I tell you that you could not do?”

“Touch.”

Charles nodded at your answer and slowly removed your bra and panties, so you were stripped bare for him. After he undressed himself, while you watched him, until he was in nothing but boxers.

“Now what am I going to do with you? You want to cum that bad, huh? Bad enough that you'd disobey me and go to your ex's party?”

All of a sudden, his fingers are inside you, curling against your walls and making you wetter by the second. You gripped his wrist, but he only grabbed both your hands, pinned them above your head.

He pumped harder, faster, and your stomach started to tighten. You moved your hips against his hand, but the moment you did, he stopped and waited for you to settle down.

Your boyfriend continued to finger you, and you started to clench around his big fingers. He pulled away, licked his fingers, and watched you squirm in the bed.

“Nous allons voir combien de fois je peux te border avant que tu ne coules le long de tes magnifiques cuisses. Et j’espère que vous vous souviendrez de ne plus jamais aller à la fête de votre ex. Tu es à moi maintenant, plus à lui.” We are going to see how many times I can edge you before you're dripping down your gorgeous thighs. And hopefully you will remember to not go to your ex's party ever again. You are mine now, not his anymore.

His thumb was on your clit, moving fast. You're squirmed, wanting to cum but being too afraid to. charles pulled away again and stared at how wet your sex was for him. Only him.

He dipped a long, big finger into your sex and then pulled out, sucking your juices off. You try to wiggle your small wrists out of his hold, but his grip was too firm.

Somehow he managed to ram three fingers into you, charles smirked down at you as he pumped them hard and fast and reveled in the sweet sound of your drenched pussy.

Charles leaned forward and sucked on your neck and your chest, leaving bruises that would be hard to cover in the morning. His mouth enveloped one of your breasts and his tongue circled your nipple before he bit, hard.

Your body jolted and Charles stopped moving his fingers, waiting for your hips to stop moving. Frustrated, you didn't stop. You worked your hips in a way that moved charles long fingers.

“Vous voulez vous en sortir si mal?” You want to get off that badly?

Your boyfriend slammed his fingers into you roughly. One by one, he slowly removed his fingers, licking them clean. By now you were dripping down your thighs and ready to suck, blow and fuck to get your release.

“Answer me!”

“Yes. Please. Please, make me cum.” You're beyond the point of enduring. “I should have followed your rules. I'm sorry, daddy.”

“Yes, you should have, baby.”

“Do you need it?”

“Yes,” you said. Anything to have his hands on you.

“Are you sure?” His fingers were playing with your lower lips and your breath was catching.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good, daddy'll give you what you want. Over and over and over again until you have learned your lesson. And to not go to another man without me.”

His long fingers plunged into you, deeper than ever before. He rammed them into you, taking you fast and hard. Your eyes were wide, as his words slowly sank in.

Before you could protest, you had climaxed for the first time tonight, your back arched, your pussy dripped and your mouth formed the shape of an 'o'. Charles moved on to your clit, rubbing fast without any mercy.

You hadn't even come down from your first orgasm yet, and your stomach was already tightening, ready to release again. You came hard, your whole body shook, and your clit was swollen and sensitive, charles didn't stop rubbing.

He kept moving his thumb in a circular motion, making you come for a third time. His mouth moved to your sex, licking up your juices, before he plunged his tongue deep.

He held your hips down with both his hands, let go of your wrists. You used your free hands to try to push his head away, but he ignored you, continuing to devour you.

“daddy, no. I'm too sensitive.” Even as you say this, a moan escaped your lips when he hit your spot. After a few strokes from his tongue, you came undone, gripped his hair and screamed his name loud enough to wake the neighbors.

In your bout of ecstasy, you barely felt him flip you over, so you were sitting on his face. Here, he had better access to move where ever he wanted inside you. It was also a total turn on to look down on him licking at your pussy.

Your legs were shaking, and you could barely hold yourself upright as he worked you towards a fifth orgasm that you were not sure your body could take.

You gripped the white headboard and moved your hips against your boyfriend's mouth, hoping that this would be the last one… well, maybe the second to last.

You couldn't support yourself when you came again, and charles had to hold you up, so you wouldn't fall over. He licked you clean before lifting you off of him.

He stared down at your tired body, glistening in sweat, before leaning in close to your ear.

“Your lesson isn't over yet, mon amour. Get on your hands and knees. It's Daddy's turn now.”

Your arms shook as you positioned yourself. You felt charles caress your ass before he delivered a hard smack. His tip was rubbing against your entrance, and you didn't know if you could take him for a sixth time.

You sighed, shivered and moaned as he entered you. Charles may be dominant, possessive and a little scary in bed, but he always made sure you were comfortable before he took you. Hard.

Charles slammed into you, destroying your wet and swollen pussy for a sixth and final time. You gripped the silk sheets beneath you and tried to stay upright, wanting to please him.

He leaned forward and nipped your skin, every once in a while he bit hard, leaving evident marks on your skin. He smacked your ass again and picked up the speed.

He was close. You were close too, and every time he smacked your ass with his big veiny hands, you got a little closer to your climax. Charles suddenly pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back.

Your boyfriend slipped back into you and picking up the pace. His lips connected with yours for the first time tonight, and they were hungry. You could taste yourself on him, and you welcome the flavor of your juices on your tongue.

You tightened around Charles before coming undone. You writhed and squirmed and shook, milking him with your spasms. He rode out both your highs and stood up to get a towel to clean you both up.

He gathered your spent body in his arms and chuckled.

“So, has Daddy's little princess learned her lesson?”

You only nodded, too tired to even respond anymore. Even tho you loved his dominant and possessive side, you wouldn't do it again. The happy and gentle charles made you happier than anything.

“Je t’aime mon petit haricot, mais tu dois compère que tu ne me désobéis pas et que tu n’iras plus jamais vers un autre homme sans moi. Tu es à moi. Ma fille. Seulement le mien.“ I love you my little bean, but you need to understand that you don't disobey me and that you do not go to any other man without me ever again. You're mine. My girl. Only mine.

“Je t’aime, sharl” You whispered lightly, not even fully understanding what he said. Nuzzling your head into his chest, you feel asleep as you smell his cologne in.

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #formula one #formula 1 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc smut #sub!reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc oneshot #charles lecrelc #charles lechair #dom!charles leclerc

588 notes · View notes