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DEAR READER

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blake kathryn
Cosmic Funnies
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Stranger Things
Today's Document
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Product Placement
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@lucywritesx
navigation
about..
-lucinda, she/her, scorpio, summer, lana del rey, the weeknd, swan, vanilla blonde, ukyt, alfie buttle's girl, music, introvert, night thinker, sarcasm, healing era, swag, october
masterlist
rules & reqs
hiii if ur going to do more exbf!ab being protective over reader with her shitty bf, could u do one where she calls him crying and her nose is bleeding (maybe broken) and she’s a mess otp like ‘alf i think my nose is broken please come and get me please please’ and obvi he comes and maybe gets in a fight with her bf? love ur stuff💜
hi anon omg yeah i can absolutely do that!🤩 i’ve been feeding off of ex!bf alfie scenarios and honestly im gonna try to get atleast 3-4 fics out by the end of the upcoming week.
i just added this to my list🤞🏻
ok angels, i’m getting back into alfie writing and want you to help me pick the next idea cause i can’t chooseeeee x
🛐
ex bf!alfie
enemies to lovers
fake dating
Dont let these people who just say "ai is harmful what are you talking about" get to you bcz ai is everywhere nowadays and so hard to avoid,I wouldn't raise my cortisol tbh.
no the thing is i totally get them and personally i try to not even use ai for the tiniest bit of help on my assignments, but that’s true and i really do not get why comments such as “you’re uneducated” need to be made.
anws thank you anon, i appreciate you angel x
you’re so uneducated about ai. those videos are definitely not “harmless”.
i’m really not going to analyse this whole situation anymore, as i’ve said i agree that it’s bad when used to harm and damage others, so if you think i’m uneducated by saying that that’s totally okay, even though i just expressed an opinion on my blog about something i found funny.
icl it’s so discouraging when i just want to share something with my followers or generally the ukyt fandom and there’s always someone taking all the fun out of it. and taking the time to resend an anon after i kindly replied to you the first time, is odd.
personally i dont tgink anything to do with ai is funny
completely agree with you anon, when ai is used in harmful or misleading ways, i don’t find it funny either. or when it’s being used in writing, which is supposed to be creative. in this case i was jus talking about some quite harmless “meme” videos, which if you do go and search them up you’ll see that the actual people whose videos were made for, are taking this as a joke aswell x
okay so.. those ai tiktoks of alfie, cal and chippo performing zesty songs in glastonbury are jokes😹 i’ve genuinely been laughing my head off for half an hour now
hi!
could u please do like a social media fic where reader features in alfie’s snap stories and theyre like cuddling n stuff and its fluffy and funny where they react to the weird messages he gets😭??
hi anonnn, omg that’s so cuteee! they’re definitely creasing over the dms he gets of girls thirsting over him (i’m one of them).
i’ll definitely add that to my list🤞🏻
please can you do more with readers and her having an abusive bf and alfie comes and gets her and bladadada
i love them their so good!
hi anon! sorry i took days to reply, i’ve not been active lately and i am aware of that i just got a bit too much on my plate rn with those fuckass exams, BUT i’ll definitely do more of ex!ab cause I AM OBSESSED over that man😋
should’ve been you
ex bf! alfie x female reader
warnings: abusive relationship, physical and emotional abuse, manipulation, angst, bruises/injuries, mentions of sex, swearing, toxic behaviour
a/n: hi angels <3 long time no write.. and ofc i come back with angst😭 hope you like this one, love you always.
you don’t realise how much of your life was built around someone until they’re not there anymore.
six months.
six whole months since alfie walked out of your life like it was nothing more than a decision he could just.. make and be done with.
“i need to focus on my life,” he’d said. “my career.. everything.”
after three years.
three fucking years.
you didn’t even fight him the way you should’ve. you didn’t scream or beg or throw anything. you just stood there in his flat that you shared, your arms folded tight across your chest like you were physically holding yourself together.
“if that’s what you want,” you’d said.
and that was it.
—
your new flat wasn’t bad.
it was actually nice enough.. small, but a clean, decent area, not too far from everything. you told yourself it was a fresh start. something that was fully yours.
but it never really felt like home, it just felt.. quiet.
you met him not long after.
your boyfriend.
and at first, it felt good. easy. like a distraction you didn’t even have to try for. he texted you all the time, wanted to see you constantly, asked questions about where you were and who you were with.
you thought it meant he cared.
you were wrong.
it started with little things. it always does.
“why didn’t you reply?” “who were you with?” “why were you laughing like that with him?”
you laughed it off at first, brushing it away thinking he was just a bit jealous.
“you’re overthinking,” you’d say.
but he wasn’t overthinking.
he was watching you like a guard.
the arguments came next.
they were loud and messy. in public as well, which made it worse. people were turning their heads, pretending not to listen while he raised his voice at you over nothing.
“can you not do this here?” you’d whisper, embarrassed.
“do what?” he’d snap. “i’m just talkin’ to you.”
it was never just talking by the way.
—
the first time he hit you, you didn’t even fully register it.
you’d been in the kitchen arguing about you going out with emily, your best friend, and he just, lost it.
his hand came down on your arm, hard.
not your face, not yet.
“..did you just hit me?” you asked, genuinely confused.
“i didn’t mean to,” he said quickly. “you just- you were windin’ me up.”
you weren’t.
but he said it so quickly, so convincing, that you ended up apologising.
you apologised.
after that it got easier for him.
and harder for you to leave. because every time it happened, there was an excuse.
you made him angry you said the wrong thing you looked at someone the wrong way
and every time, he’d calm down after, pull you close, mumble a half apology, and kissed your head like it fixed anything.
and you stayed.. because somehow, in your head, leaving felt harder than staying.
—
emily noticed.
ofcourse she did.
she sees you basically every day, so it didn’t take long.
“what’s that?” she asked once, grabbing your wrist gently when your sleeve slipped.
you pulled it back quickly. “nothing i banged it.”
she didn’t believe you.
she didn’t say anything straight away though. she just watched and paid attention.
the way you checked your phone constantly. the way your mood changed depending on who texted. the way you flinched sometimes.
and then one day, she saw the bruise on your collarbone.
you hadn’t even realised it was visible.
“reader,” she said, voice different this time. serious. “what the fuck is that?”
“i told you, i’m clumsy-”
“don’t lie to me.”
you looked away.
that’s when she knew.
—
meanwhile, alfie is doing the exact opposite of dealing with anything.
he’s out most nights. with different girls in different places but.. same outcome.
meaningless sex, drinks, laughter that doesn’t really mean anything.
he tells himself he’s fine. that this is what he wanted.
freedom.
no responsibility.
no relationship.
but it’s not hitting the same. like, at all.
he’ll be in the middle of making out with someone, touching someone, literally having sex, and his brain just.. goes somewhere else.
back to you.
your laugh. your voice. the way you’d look at him like he was everything.
and he hates it. so he just does more of it, trying to drown it out.
—
that night, it’s the same.
there was some girl in his bed, talking too much, asking questions he’s not even half arsed about answering. he’s half dressed, already bored, when his phone lights up.
emily.
once.
twice.
five missed calls.
and then a message:
answer your fucking phone alfie
he calls her back.
“what?” he says, running a hand through his hair. “why are you blowin’ up my phone?”
“where have you been?” emily snaps immediately. she sounds stressed. angry. “i’ve been calling you for ages.”
“i was busy,” he mutters, staring back at the girl in his bed. “what’s going on?”
“it’s y/n.”
he straightens instantly. “what about her?”
“she’s not okay.”
his stomach drops a bit. “what do you mean not okay?”
“i mean not fucking okay, alfie,” emily says, her voice shaking now. “i didn’t know if i should tell you but i can’t just sit here and do nothing anymore.”
“tell me what?” his tone’s sharper now. impatient, but underneath it there’s something else creeping in.
fear.
emily exhales. “her boyfriend.”
he goes still.
“…what about him?”
“he’s been hitting her.”
it’s like something in alfie just snaps.
“what?”
“he hits her,” emily repeats, slower this time. clearer. “i’ve seen the bruises on her arms, her shoulders, i think even her ribs. she keeps making excuses but it’s obvious.” her voice crack slightly.
alfie’s jaw clenches so hard it hurts.
“how long has this been goin’ on for?”
“i don’t know exactly. a couple months at least. maybe three.”
three months.
three months someone’s been putting their hands on you.
and he’s been—
fuck.
“why didn’t you tell me earlier??” he snaps.
“because she’d hate me for it!” emily shoots back. “and i didn’t know how bad it was at first. but it’s getting worse. she won’t leave him, alfie. she keeps defending him.”
he’s already standing up, grabbing his joggers.
“where is she?”
“at her flat, i think. but-”
he hangs up.
and calls you immediately.
once.
twice.
no answer.
again.
still nothing.
“fuck,” he mutters, pacing.
—
you can’t answer.
because your phone’s on the floor.
because your boyfriend’s screaming at you.
because his hand is in your hair, dragging you across your own fucking flat.
“you think i’m stupid?” he’s shouting. “you think i didn’t see you flirting with him?”
“i wasn’t!” you cry, trying to pull away. “i literally wasn’t doing anything—”
“don’t lie to me!”
he yanks harder and you stumble, your knees hitting the floor as he drags you towards the bedroom.
your heart is racing, panic setting in properly now.
“please—” your voice breaks, “please stop—”
he doesn’t.
he never does once he gets like this.
—
hours later, it’s quiet.
he’s gone out like nothing happened.
you’re on the floor with your back against the wall and your hoodie pulled around you, trying to breathe properly.
everything hurts.
your head, your ribs, your face.
you reach for your phone eventually.
see the missed calls.
alfie.
your chest tightens immediately.
you stare at his name for a second.
then you call him.
—
he answers so fast it almost startles you.
“hello? reader?”
you try to speak but it comes out as a sob instead.
he goes quiet for half a second.
then, “hey.. hey, what’s happened? talk to me.”
“i didn’t see your calls,” you admit, your voice breaking. “i’m sorry—”
“don’t apologise,” he says immediately. “just tell me what’s going on.”
and you do.
“he gets angry over nothing,” you say, words tumbling out. “like literally nothing, alfie. if i don’t reply fast enough, if i go out, if i look at someone he just.. loses it.”
he’s silent, listening.
“and at first it was just shouting,” you continue, wiping your face. “like really bad arguments, in public as well, he doesn’t care. and then one day he just—”
you hesitate.
“he hit me.”
alfie shuts his eyes.
“where?” he asks quietly.
“my arm, the first time. but then it just—” your voice cracks again. “it kept happening. not every day but.. still, enough. he always says it’s my fault after. that i push him or i wind him up or something.”
“it’s not your fault,” alfie says immediately, his voice firm.
you ignore that, because you don’t fully believe it.
“today was worse,” you whisper. “he thought i was flirting with someone outside a shop. i swear i wasn’t even talking to anyone alfie, you know me, and he just.. he dragged me inside and-”
you swallow hard.
“he hit me again. like really hard. and i just.. my face is swollen and it hurts..”
there’s a heavy silence.
you can hear his breathing.
“i don’t know what to do,” you admit, your voice small now. “i feel stupid. i should’ve left ages ago but i just.. i don’t know. he makes me feel like it’s my fault and then he’s nice again and i.. i don’t know.”
alfie’s grip on his phone is so tight it’s almost shaking.
“you’re not staying there,” he says.
and then there’s a voice in the background.
a female one.
“alfie? are you coming back?”
you freeze.
of course.
of course there’s someone there, why wouldn’t there be?
you go quiet instantly.
“sorry,” you mumble. “i didn’t realise you were-”
“no, it’s not like that..” he starts, moving away quickly, but you cut him off.
“it’s fine,” you say, even though it’s not. “you don’t owe me anything.”
that hurts him more than anything you said before.
“where are you?” he asks instead.
“at mine.”
“i’m coming to get you.”
“you don’t have to-”
“i do,” he cuts in. “i’m coming. just… wait for me, yeah?”
you hesitate.
“…okay.”
—
you’re outside when he gets there.
you didn’t want to stay inside any longer than you had to.
you have your hoodie on, legs bare, and your arms wrapped around yourself.
his car pulls up and for a second you just stare at it.
then you get in.
it’s quiet and awkward.
but.. familiar.
he glances at you and it hits him properly.
you look the same. but also… not.
“what the fuck,” he mutters under his breath when he sees your eye properly.
you look away.
“swear to god i’ll kill ‘im.”
you don’t answer.
“take the hoodie off.”
“alfie-”
“take it off.”
you hesitate and then slowly, you do.
and yeah, it’s bad.
there’s bruises, marks, everything.
he looks like he might actually cry, but he blinks it back, jaw tight.
“how long has this been goin’ on angel?”
“…three months.”
he nods slowly, gripping the wheel.
“you’re not going back there.”
—
his place feels the same.. which makes everything feel worse somehow.
he doesn’t make it a big thing though.. he just… takes care of you.
“you take the bed,” he says. “i’ll sleep on the sofa.”
you shake your head.
“i don’t wanna be alone.”
he nods once.
“alright.”
—
you’re in his bed again, six months later.
you’re facing away at first, not really sure what to do and he gives you space.
until you shift closer slightly and he follows, slowly, like he’s giving you time to stop him.
you don’t.
his arm settles around you, gentle, careful.
safe.
you finally breathe properly.
“he’s not gonna touch you again,” alfie says quietly. “i swear.”
and for the first time in months, you let yourself hope.
and he realises now..
he should’ve never fucking left you in the first place.
off camera
ab x fem!reader
warnings: none really, pure fluff, established relationship
a/n: decided to write just a bit of soft alfie because i need him being normal for once and i've got writers block on the fic i'm working on.. enjoy xx
alfie is weirdly gentle when no one's around.
not in a way you'd really describe out loud. it's not like he changes personality or anything. it's just that when there's no camera, no one else in the house, no need to keep anything moving, he stops doing the bits where he fills every silence.
you're on his bed while he's at his desk editing. laptop open, timeline full, and his headphones around his neck instead of on because he keeps talking to you more than he's watching what he's doing.
"that cut's wrong," you say, barely looking up.
"it's not wrong," he replies automatically.
you look at him.
he pauses and clicks back, watching it again. "it's slightly wrong."
"yeah."
he drags it a bit, fixes it, then sits back like he's done something exhausting. "sorted."
you go back to your phone.
there's a bit of silence. just the usual room noise, nothing awkward about it. it never really is with him. he swivels his chair a bit so he's half facing you instead of the desk.
"you alright just lying there?"
"yeah."
"not bored?"
"no, alfie."
he nods like he's accepted that answer but still doesn't fully believe people can just lie down and do nothing without it being a problem. he keeps fiddling with his sleeves, rolling them up and down again without noticing. then eventually, he shuts the laptop a bit harder than necessary.
"can't be bothered anymore."
"you've been doing it for like half an hour."
"yeah, that's loads."
you glance over at him properly. he's already standing up before you even finish looking.
he comes over and sits next to you on the bed without saying anything else about it, close enough that his shoulder presses into yours straight away.
his hand finds yours after a second, not like he's decided to do it, more like it's where his hand ended up and he didn't move it away.
you look at him.
"you alright?"
"yeah," he says. "just knackered."
you nod a bit. "properly tired or just 'can't be bothered' tired?"
he thinks about it for a second. "bit of both."
you hum in understanding. he leans back against the headboard properly now, still holding your hand, thumb moving a bit over your knuckles because it makes him relax more than it makes you.
"i forget how loud everything is sometimes."
you turn your head slightly. "what d'you mean?"
he shrugs a bit, eyes still forward. "like when you're editing it back or watchin' comments or whatever. it feels like loads."
you don't say anything straight away.
he adds, "and then it's just like this.. with you, and it's fine again."
you nod once. "yeah."
he seems satisfied with that, like that's all it needed to land.
his grip on your hand doesn't change. just stays steady, normal.
he shifts slightly after a moment, his head tipping closer to you and resting on your neck quietly, not making it a thing.
"you stayin' tonight girl, yeah?"
"yeah."
he gives a small smile at that. "sound."
a bit later he reaches for his phone on the bed, checks it, then puts it face down again without really looking at it properly.
"think i'll leave the vlog for tomorrow," he says.
you glance at him. "you'll actually do it tomorrow?"
"probably."
you laugh a bit under your breath and he watches you for a second, admiring you.
"i will," he adds, and gives you a small peck on the lips before pulling you in by the waist and slowly falls asleep.
Why cant you just leave the app at this point you are getting too much and tbh your writing is kind of mid and not all that. Then people get angry when they get hate
if you don’t like my writing, that’s completely fine and no one’s forcing you to read it. what i don’t understand is going out of your way to send something like this when you could’ve just moved on. people are just trying to share what they enjoy, and it’s a bit disappointing to see how comfortable some of you have become in being unnecessarily negative. it’s honestly a little discouraging, especially seeing how common this kind of thing has been lately.
do you not think it’s a tad insensitive to put “lol” at the end of themes which mentions infertility. completely trivialises it
i understand how the “lol” could come across as insensitive, but that honestly wasn’t my intention at all. it was more of a habit in how i phrase things rather than me making light of infertility, which i take seriously in my life and in the fic itself. still, i get the concern and will keep it in mind x
i feel so unholy rn.. it’s crazy #NEEDTHAT
stop it now why’s he cutiepiemaxxing
pretty when it hurts
DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
ab x fem!reader
warnings: dddne, toxic relationship, codependency, emotional abuse, physical abuse, manipulation, controlling behaviour, argument, swearing, choking, slapping, blood, smut, degradation, coercion, dubcon, noncon
a/n: this is my first time writing dddne, so be careful and read the tags properly.. it's heavy and not romanticised at all (loved writing it)
it starts over something stupid. it always does. something so small you won't even remember it later, just the way it made your chest feel tight and your cortisol spike a bit too fast.
you don't laugh at something he says, and that's enough.
"what's wrong with you now?" he mutters, not even looking at you properly at first, like you're already an inconvenience. "face like a slapped arse."
you try to shrug it off.
"nothing."
wrong answer.
he exhales sharply through his nose, like you've just proved a point he was already making in his head. "nah, fuck that. you've clearly got an attitude. just say it instead of actin' like a little bitch."
you feel that familiar unsettleness in your stomach, that you've felt so many times before this one. you turn your head away, hoping to calm your nerves.
that's what sets him off.
"yo," he snaps, sharper now. "look at me when i'm speakin' to you."
you hesitate for a second yoo long, and he steps closer.
"i said.. look at me."
you do. of course you do. there's something about the way he watches you then, like he's already got the upper hand, like he knows exactly how this is going to go. because he's done this before.
he raises his hand before striking you on the cheek so hard, your head bopped to the side. tears welled up in your eyes.
"aw, poor baby. are you gon' cry now? go on, cry."
you stare at the ground before grabbing your bag off the side like that somehow proves you're above this, like you're done. you're not.
he watches you the whole time, eyes tracking every movement, waiting. not stopping you. that's the worst part. he doesn't need to.
"go on then," he says again, almost bored. "door's right there."
you freeze just for a second, and that's all he needs.
he almost laughs in your face.
"thought so."
your chest tightens, anger flaring up fast and god knows how you picked up the courage to do it but you push at his chest, frustration spilling over.
"you're sick. you act like you've got me all figured out-"
he catches your wrists, squeezing them with one arm so hard, you almost cry.
"shut up. either you calm the fuck down or i'll make you calm the fuck down."
you don't answer. his grip tightens for half a second, just enough to make your breath hitch, before he lets go and grabs you by the neck.
he squeezes your windpipe making it hard to take a breath and lifting you off the ground for a few seconds, until you feel your vision blur. you shove and kick him but there's no need.
"you're only doin' this harder for yourself, baby."
he lets go like nothing happened.
you gasp for air before falling like a ragdoll onto the hard floor.
"please, alfie stop."
"stop what? you're the one still here. you love me. otherwise you'd have walked out that door ages ago."
you stare at the floor, humiliated.
"now, get the fuck up."
you don't move, so he walks over and drags you to the bedroom by your hair, before picking you up and throwing you on the bed like a toy. he hovers on top of you before ripping your little strappy top off, revealing your breasts.
he sets his mouth on them and sucks with his teeth to leave harsh bite marks. then, he quickly shoves his sweatpants and boxers down, his hard cock on full display.
"what are you waitin' for then? suck me off."
you nod, before sitting on your heels and taking him in your mouth. he doesn't waste another second before he grabs your hair in a fist and shoves your head down hard, all whilst thrusting his hips in your mouth.
"yeah, just like that you dumb bitch. suck my cock like you love to."
you gag and struggle to breathe, tapping his hips so he can get the memo and let you breath, but he doesn't even acknowledge it. he even slaps your hands off hard.
"want me to cum in your little mouth? huh?"
you try to speak but it's just a muffled small dumb yes.
he chuckles at your cock drunk state before he thrusts hard once more, and shoots his thick load down your throat.
"swallow."
and you do.
he then turns you around so you're laying on your stomach and lines himself up. no preparation, nothing. he shoves his cock into your tight cunt, and the pain is unbearable. you never really adjusted to how big he was.
"it hurts, please! alfie, stop."
he shoves your head into the pillow till your cries are just some muffled sounds.
"shh baby, you can take it."
you shake your head, trying to slip away and he turns your head around, slapping you hard across the face before spitting on you.
"shut the fuck up, you know you want this. your cunt is so wet for me baby. you gonna be a good girl?"
he says as he continues shamelessy ripping and stretching your hole, now setting a punishing rhythm that made you unable to even form words.
"y-yeah. fuck- yes! I'll be good daddy."
he laughs in your face before shoving your face down again. he starts slapping your arse over and over again, till it starts to form a bruise.
"a- ow! fuck!" you cry.
he turns you again, so you're on your back. he continues ramming into you, and brings his hand down to your clit, rubbing it harsh and fast. it makes you spiral and you feel that tight knot in your stomach.
"come on you dirty slut. let go, cum on my cock. that's what you wanted, yeah? you wanna be shown who you belong to?"
you close your eyes. you try so hard not to orgasm, because of how humiliating it'd be.
"open your eyes, look at me. who do you belong to?"
when you don't reply he grabs you by the neck, squeezing hard and hitting your head on the bed frame.
"who do you belong to??"
"fuck- you! you, alfie! only you."
"yeah, that's what i thought. no one else will have you after me. you know why? 'cause you'll be ruined."
you cry and nod, as alfie starts getting sloppier with his thrusts, grunting and going deeper and deeper, hitting your g-spot continuously.
you can't help yourself, and you let out a borderline pornographic moan.
he brings his hand up, violently slapping it on your mouth.
"what're you doin'? want everyone in this building to listen to how good you're gettin' fucked, girl? such a little filthy bitch."
by the look in your cock drunk state eyes, and the way your cunt started pulsing and pulling him in he knows your close. and he is too. he pulls out and drags you up like his little fucktoy, setting you to straddle his lap whilst he's laying down.
"give it all, girl. fuck yourself on my cock. you know you want to." alfie knows that's the position you cum the hardest. that's why he did it.
you can't help but let out all of your frustration on him. you move back and forward on his cock, desperately trying to cum.
he starts thrusting up to fuck you harder. your legs feel like jelly and you fall onto his stomach.
he chuckles. "you're so fucked out."
you move your hand to rub your clit, but he slaps it off.
"you're such a desperate whore. beggin' for it and then actin' like you don't wanna have your guts fucked out."
only his words make you wanna cum and you hate that. you feel your orgasm coming and whilst you're being fucked like a fucktoy, just laying on his stomach whilst he thrusts up into your swollen cunt, you come on his cock, him following your orgasm just seconds later.
he runs two fingers up your hole and brings them up to your mouth.
"open."
you do, and he shoves them into your mouth, letting you taste both him and yourself. he slaps you again, hard, giving you a bloody nose.
after there's no softeness. no apology. no shift in him at all. he acts like nothing happened. like this is normal. like you, are.
you're still laying there, naked and bruised, trying to steady your breathing, staring at the ceiling while he moves around the room like it was just another part of the routine. argue, fuck, move on.
"don't you start with that look," he mutters, glancing at you briefly.
"what look?" you say, dumbfounded and exposed.
"like you regret it," he says. "it's jarring."
you don't argue. because part of you knows he'll twist it anyway. and part of you isn't even sure you'd win.
he steps back like you're no longer insteresting, already done with the moment.
"sort yourself out," he mutters. "you're not goin' anywhere lookin' like that."
the door is right there. closer than he is. easier. you look at it. you always do. but after a second, your gaze drifts back to him. and you stay. like you always do. no matter how much it hurts.
i have officially started writing my first ever dddne fic and it's so surreal. i remember reading them and being like, how do they do it? hopefully i finish it by tonight otherwise it'll be posted tomorrow morning.. holy fuck tho i've never had that much thoughts for a fic🤓