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itsprashimusic · 1 year

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Don't Let Me Down

Summary - You loved him, really. But in the end loving him was more like your poison than your antidote.

Pairings - ex!Harry Styles x singer!Reader

Warnings - suicidal thoughts, mentions of wanting to die, ANGST, failed relationship, cuss words, using a real-life singer's songs for this fic, death of parents, absent partner, Harry is an asshole at the end (he threw things at reader), not entirely proofread Happy reading<3

Word Count - 4.5k

A/N - reader is female but can also be read as gender neutral. suicidal part will be labeled with (💔) for those who want to skip it.

flashbacks are in italics

also please reblog this, i spent a lot of time on it and reblogging it with tags would really mean a lot to me. love you❤️

You were getting ready for you first live concert in months. The familiar rush of adrenaline was coursing through your body. The type that only comes when you are performing. This was probably one of the best parts of your job as a singer. The better parts are probably the free items people give you just because you are a celebrity. The bad worse parts are definitely the paparazzi and publicity of everything in and about your life.

Your fans were wanting more music, and so that is what you gave them. A few months earlier you released an album. A lot of fans were expecting maybe some love songs surrounding your rumored relationship with famed singer and actor, Harry Styles.

You kept your personal life hidden from public view. But still they always were trying to guess who the current 'man in your claws' was. This time it was Harry Styles, but it was true. You and Harry had been dating for nearly 3 years.

Key word: had

You both had broken up. You weren't sure who broke up with who, but one thing was clear, it was not mutual. It was messy, very messy. Your house looked like a tornado went through it twice and again. Things were thrown, hurtful false accusations were thrown around, when you called him out on his bullshit, he just gave you another lame excuse as to how it was your fault for that specific flaw of his, you get the idea it was just a bad break up.

Fans around the world mourned your break-up, even though no official statement was given by either of you for almost 3 months post the breakup.

It has been nearly a year since your breakup, and you are still not over it. You admit it, you really did love Harry. He was the world for you. In the back of your closet sat a little box with a simple gold band resting in it, waiting to be worn by your life partner. You had a date planned out on which you would propose to him, two days after your break-up.

The part which hurt the most was knowing that he would've said yes, if things were fine in your relationship.

You stood in your dressing room. Being finished with your warmups, you stood, simply doing nothing. You just stared at yourself in the mirror. It was your supposed to be your largest tour. So of course, your nerves were on edge. You were standing in your dressing room, clutching the table with a grip so hard even you were surprised by it. You knew you were not doing well. A lot of the people around you even pointed out you looked unwell. You started feeling nauseous.

You were aware it was coming, the panic attack. Breathing became a bit difficult. You knew there was only one thing that would calm you down. A person to be more specific. Little did you know that this very person who could calm you down was rushing through the corridors, pushing people aside, just to find you. He knew that you would be having a panic attack.

Just as you were about to fall down, the door to your dressing room broke open revealing your boyfriend. He ran in enveloping you into a hug, hiding both your view of the others in your dressing room and their view of you, a gesture you were grateful for. One arm around your back, the other around the back of your head.

"It's ok darling, I'm here now." he said, his voice making things better, his deep soothing voice. He gestured for the others to leave the room so that the two of you would be alone. They left and shut the door giving the two of your privacy. You and Harry just stood there, him hugging you. You knew eventually you'd have to go out and perform, but for now just standing there felt right.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you could see the tears forming in your eyes. This would be your first concert in a long time, and you wanted it to be one of your best. You remember that one concert, it was the best. The type that everyone remembers, has countless edits of, even years later, that kind.

You looked at the clock. 10 minutes. You stared yourself down in the mirror. 9 minutes. You paced up and down doing your warmups. 8 minutes. You nervously sipped water from a bottle. 7 minutes. You were called outside to get your earpiece put in. 6 minutes. Your hands were getting sweaty, so you rubbed them against yourself. 5 minutes. The earpiece is in and working. 4 minutes. You could hear the crowd waiting for you to make your entrance. 3 minutes. You and your backup dancers huddled up together. 2 minutes. You made your way to where you were supposed to come out from. 1 minute. You clutched the tissue paper that you took from the dressing room. You clutched it hard, knowing that the last time you were up on stage it was someone's hand instead of a piece of somewhat soft paper. 10 seconds. You got your cue and could hear the intro music playing and the smoke machines going off. And from then on everything felt like a dream but even through the performances, your mind was somewhere else. Harry.

It was oddly quiet in his house. Normally there was some type of noise, whether it was the heater, AC or just some new air purifier he found and thought you might like. Your keys jingled while you were unlocking the front door to Harry's house. He said he would be meeting you here and so you didn't expect anyone to be at home.

But little did you know Harry was standing behind the door waiting for you to come. He saw your car pull up below the building. He had a surprise that he wanted to share with you first. Just as the door swinged open the lights turned on and a bunch of confetti flew out from somewhere. It startled you and you yelled. It took you a few seconds but then you saw Harry standing behind the door with a sheepish smile on his face. "Honey, what is all of this?" you asked him, coming closer to him. He pulled you in by your waist and said, "My new album's coming out on December 13th. I want you to be the first one to know."

"Wait, you have another album coming out? I didn't even know you were working on one!" you said. "Love, I never stop working. And to answer your question, yes, I have another album coming out. It is going to be called Fine Line."

That was all years ago. You remember that day clearly. It was the day you thought he was the one. So much followed after that. You walked him backwards onto the couch, hands tangled in his soft curly hair, lips on his. Just as he fell onto it his head made contact with some leftover food that was lying around. It was messy and cut your make out session short. But it was sweet. After getting him cleaned up you both sat cuddled on the couch and continued watching Modern Family.

"How are we doing Manchester!" you could hear the crowd cheering through your earpiece. You finished the intro and now you were starting to get more comfortable. "You know, it has been a long time since I have performed here. I just got the warmest welcome of all time, and it's time to return the favor," you say just as a short whistle tune is played over the speakers making the crowd go wild. "Usually, people love dancing around to my songs, but for this one we have to sit still," you say, teasing the crowd when another whistle tune is played.

The song got over and slowly transitioned into your other single.

Crashing, hit a wall Right now I need a miracle Hurry up now, I need a miracle

It was a really low time in your life. You had just lost your father to covid, and your mother wasn't doing so well. Add to that, your boyfriend was stuck in England and you in America. And the cherry on top, your name was plastered all over the news. People were bored and decided to pull and poke fun at you and some of your songs to keep them busy.

But it sucked for you. You were dangerously close to swallowing a bunch of tablets and it sucked. You were on your own, got calls daily from the nearby hospital about your mother's health, which was declining and going through grief over losing your father 1 month ago. All you needed right now was a miracle. Only a miracle could save you.

Stranded, reaching out I call your name, but you're not around I say your name, but you're not around

You had just received news from the hospital saying that your mother had not made it. Being in the hospital for so long had benefitted her but in the end, she contracted covid. You did not take the call well. The second the doctor said the words 'I'm sorry' you felt your heart split into tiny shards of glass which embedded themselves into every part of your body. You did cry, you didn't sob, not even a voice crack by the time you finished the conversation.

You were numb. The only person you wanted was him, but it was impossible to reach him when he was on an entirely different continent. You called him. You texted him. You messaged him. You emailed him, but there was no response. You even tried Instagram but that resulted in nothing. You attempted to write him a physical letter, but there was no response.

You had no idea why he was ignoring you. And it wasn't like you called him 3-4 times a day. You called him 15-20 times a day, you were surprised no one was responding.

Right when you needed him the most in your life he decided to shut you out. It hurt more than any break-up ever did. It was like you were stranded on an island with no way to escape. And the person you were trying to contact to come and save you was not there, almost as if they didn't exist.

I need you, I need you, I need you right now Yeah, I need you right now So don't let me, don't let me, don't let me down I think I'm losing my mind now

That was when things started going south in your and Harry's relationship. When he finally responded back, he was nothing like the man you fell in love with. Though you were so desperate and elated that he finally responded, you didn't even notice the shift in his attitude. By the time you realized how out-of-love he was with you, you were ready to propose to him.

It's in my head, darling, I hope That you'll be here, when I need you the most So don't let me, don't let me, don't let me down

For the longest time you kept hoping that at some point Harry would respond. That he would come and save you from the hell you were in. That he would be there to put an end to your turmoil. But no. He didn't show up (not like he even could), he didn't call, didn't text, nothing. You were left to pick up your own broken pieces.

Don't let me down

'Harry please pick up, please'

A sob racked through your body, making you tremble.

don't let me down

'Leave on seen, even that will do, just please say something, please'

You were getting hysterical, one sob after another, pleas falling from your lips like a prayer, repeating it to yourself again and again and again.

down

'Letter number 12 and I will keep writing more, just please respond'

Ink was dripping down the paper like the tears on your face it was mixed with. Your vision was a blur.

down

'Maybe today he will respond, it's been 6 months, things are starting to open up, maybe I can go see him'

With each passing day your delusional hope kept getting stronger. You never knew you had this much motivation in yourself.

'Please don't let me down…'

You whispered to yourself every day, almost as if he could hear you begging him to save you, to heal you, to do some thing.

(💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔)

Running out of time I really thought you were on my side But now there's nobody by my side

You sat on the kitchen floor, three different items sitting next to you, each one waiting to be used. You thought of the knife and how if you used that it would be painful, but then when you were found people would talk about how much pain you would have had to endure to die.

You looked at the rope and the ceiling fan and how that would also be painful but at the same time a bit faster. It would certainly be the most dramatic way to go, overrated but dramatic. When you would be found, someone would see you hanging off of the ceiling suspended in air in the middle of the room. Headlines would be something about you not dying of the virus but of ill mental health. Maybe it would raise awareness.

You looked at the bottle of meds. Certainly, the most painless way to go but when you would be found and it would be announced that you died of an overdose, people would think you were desperate to die. Well, they wouldn't be wrong, just that you don't want people to every think you stooped to that level.

Look at you, thinking about if people thought you stooped to the lowest level of suicide when suicide itself is low. But what other option is there really? You father died around 8 months ago, your mother followed him about 6 weeks after, your sibling was in the military with absolutely no way to contact them and your boyfriend was blatantly ignoring you while the media has been having fun with ruining your name and songs because they are bored at home.

It felt like a clock was ticking, like time was running out fast, but for what? Your death maybe, that would be satisfactory for you but this clock felt like it was ticking down to something else. 'Well, if there is something worse, let it happen'

(💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔)

"Don't let me down." you reached your high note with practiced ease. Goosebumps erupted all over your skin as the crowd yelled loud enough that you could feel the sound waves. You kept going on for another 2 hours until the show ended, Harry not crossing your mind for the remainder of the show.

"Thank you once again for this lovely evening. Goodnight Manchester!"

You were in your hotel room, thinking back on your opening show. A smile played on your face when you thought back to fans' yell when the whistle tune played through the stadium speakers. But that smile left your face when you remembered who was on your mind as you sang the song which followed your opening track. Looking around you realized that the hotel room looked very similar to the room in which you felt your heart probably actually break.

You both had just returned from your best friend's movie premiere. It was late at night, which in your case meant getting a bit clingy and touchy. Nothing much, just hand holding, hugging, some neck kisses. You thought the night would be perfect, given that you were in the city of love itself. But little did you know that Cupid had a cruel joke in store for you.

You and Harry reached the hotel just fine. The night went better than imagined, it started in the bathroom and continued on in the bed until neither of you could keep your eyes open any longer. But then things changed in the morning. And it all started with, obviously, an article. This time the headlines were about the premiere last night.

When it comes to talking or interacting with people, you act the same with everyone and this included your best friend's co-star. He was a tall, brunette-dyed-blonde with 'sparkling silver eyes' (as the article put it). You were freaking out before the event and since you were meeting Harry at the location, you had no one to calm you down, so you decided to have a drink or two. By the time you reached the premiere, you were a bit tipsy. Harry knew this, of course, you tell him about almost everything that happens to you.

As you made your way around after walking the red carpet you were talking with people, socializing, networking. Oof, but the people who wrote this article only had pictures of you interacting with your friend's blonde co-star. You touched his arm at one point, were smiling widely when he cracked a joke and gave him a side hug when he wanted a picture with you. But this was enough evidence for people to think you were cheating on your boyfriend, someone who you almost worship.

Morning came, you and Harry were still acting touchy from the night before, you sitting in his lap while eating breakfast. You were having a shower when the room service came to pick up the dishes. Harry was mindlessly scrolling through his phone when he got a text from someone, an old friend who he started talking with and hanging out with recently. It was the article.

Now if Harry had seen this article 6 months ago, he would have probably just brushed it off as the media trying to stir up drama where there isn't. But sadly no. For the past 6 months you and Harry's relationship has been more than strained. There are constant fights, accusations about if the chicken got burned because of you or him and many cold shoulders. The second Harry read the article (and a few more covering the topic), he was hammering on the bathroom door demanding you come out immediately.

You had just finished your shower and had dried yourself when he was banging on the bathroom door. You opened the door to Harry angrier than he had ever been. He questioned you about the article. You told him you knew nothing of it.

"Baby, I swear I have no clue of what you are talking about."

"Then take the damn phone and read the bloody article!" he yelled, making you jump. You started realising that he wasn't just angry, he was furious.

As soon as you saw the pictures you realized what it was about. "Harry, you know me. I was not flirting with him, let alone cheating on you with him. The media just likes drumming up things that have nothing attached to it!" you saw, trying to get your clothes on.

He rolls his eyes, an unamused smile plastered on his face, "Do I know you, y/n? Hm, do I? Because over the past months it seems as if you are nothing like the person I met in 2018." "What do you mean 'nothing like the person I met'?! You are nothing like the person I FELL IN LOVE WITH!"

"Its just like you, always playing the victim. Instead of accepting that you're at fault you just find a way to blame it on me."

"Oh? Since when do you know so much about me? Didn't you just say I am nothing like the person I was before. And for your information, it's YOU who is at fault here. I have been the same person this whole time."

"So I'm the one at fault here? Huh, then tell me one thing that I have done wrong." By the time the argument reached here, you had all your clothes on, and Harry had grabbed a lamp out of frustration.

"With pleasure. Over the past 10 months whenever there was an article about me and someone else you would get jealous and think that I was cheating on you. You say that as if I don't worship the bloody ground you walk on, the water in which you bathe, the mirror in which you look at yourself. When you talk about something you like I give you my undivided attention. Even when I am exhausted, I still listen to you and respond with my 100% enthusiasm. Yet when I am excited about something you are either too busy, too tired or just plain uninterested. Oh and did I mention that for 8 months you did not answer one of my calls, any of my texts or emails?! That you were not there for me at a time when I needed you the most. That I nearly killed myself when you were not responding to me or the 15 letters I had sent to you. I called your mum, I called Gemma, I even resorted to Mitch and Sarah yet none of them could get me through to you because YOU TOLD THEM TO TELL ME YOU WERE UNAVAILABLE, WHY?! "

When you started talking about him ignoring you he rolled his eyes at you, folding his hands, gripping the lamp even harder. Ignoring everything you said before that he said, "Every single time I ask you to elaborate on what I did wrong, you bring that up. I have told you so many times that I told no one to tell you anything and for the last fucking time I did not receive any call/text/email or letter from you!"

When he screamed the last sentence he threw the lamp he was holding at you. It narrowly missed your head. The expression of shock was all over your face. You were no longer angry at him, you were scared of him.

"Harry what is wrong with you?! You threw a lamp at me." your chest was heaving, you looked at the lamp and back up at Harry. He took a step forward but you took a step back. "You keep saying that there is something wrong with me, that I am the one who changed, but please look at yourself first. Throwing things at people and not being bothered by it."

"You have no life outside of your work. You 'hangout with' Sarah and Mitch more often than you eat your food. Oh, and not to mention Leigha. You spend more time with her than with me, but do you see me complaining? There are more articles about you and her specifically. Yet you throw a fit about 1 article with me and a guy whose name I don't even remember."

"Don't you fucking dare say one more thing about her!" Harry moved closer towards you, picking up a vase at the same time. But you were more focused on calling him out to notice it. "And what about you and Louis? This actor might be a one time thing, but what about him huh? My old bandmate, you practically act like him with how much time you two spend together."

"Why? Do you care too much for her? Your 'old school friend'. And leave Louis out of this, I stopped hanging out with him long ago because you didn't like it. He was one of the only people who were there for me at my lowest, so shut your mouth about him. Plus, for your information, Leigha is nothing more than a self-obsessed man whore who was a nobody when you were in school." you were starting to get extremely riled up, your voice raising with each sentence. By the end of your sentence, you had pick up multiple items and left them all over the room, it was an anxious habit you formed. But you didn't stop there, you continued, "She failed senior year 3 times and got around the football team more often than other students studied. The only reason she attached herself to you was becau-" You were stopped by a vase hitting your head.

The anger on Harry's face could not be described. But the pain you felt could. Both the physical and emotional. The 3 inch cut on your forehead hurt really bad. You found it bleeding when you attempted to touch it. Emotionally, you felt betrayed. It didn't matter what Harry said next. You knew that this was the last straw, that it was the end.

Maybe if you kept your mouth shut there would have been a better chance he would have stayed with you. Maybe if you went ahead with your fatal plans those many months ago, you wouldn't have had to endure all this. But who are you kidding? The only reason you are alive right now is because of your sibling whose deployment ended. They flew from England and surprised you on a random Friday. After coming back they reminded you about how much you still have left to achieve, with your music, your future plans on a family, they reminded you of your fans and how they would feel, how your friends would feel, how they (your sibling) would feel, how Harry would feel. Though right now, you knew Harry would've felt nothing.

You only zoned back in when Harry was physically shaking you "Are you even listening to a fucking word I am saying?!"

"No, I am not. You just threw a vase at my head and are not even bothered about the bleeding cut on my forehead. You know what, I am done. I should killed myself a long time ago when I had the chance, because you don't love me anymore."

"Well, you got one thing correct; I don't love you anymore."

As soon as Harry said that you packed up your suitcase. Within three minutes you were out of the hotel on your way to the airport, taking the first flight back to Heathrow.

And during the flight, you kept rotating the box in your hands. The only which contained a simple gold band in it. As a tear streaked down your face you wiped it with the back of your hand. 'Why did I let him gaslight me for so many months?' you kept thinking this and many other questions relating to your relationship. 'It was so toxic, it was so unhealthy and moreover he was a dick.'

You sent a text to you sibling stating that you were on your way home. You even sent one to Louis. He was always there for you. Being your childhood friend and all. You both auditioned for the Xfactor at the same time. He got put in a boyband while you signed a contract with Simon separately. When your careers started, you both started hanging out less, but you remained good friends. The only One Direction member you met was Zayn and Niall, and that too on accident. The plane landed, and because no one was expecting you to be at the airport, there was no paparazzi for once. You quickly got a taxi and headed to his house after calling him.

You spent the entire night venting about your entire relationship.

a/n - this is probably one of the longest things i have ever written. let me know what you think. i hope i'll be able to write a part 2 to this, unless you feel i should leave it at this?

also i sincerely apologize to any Leighas out there.

Hope you enjoyed reading<3

#don't let me down fic #harry styles x reader #ex!harry styles x reader #harry styles x singer!reader #ex!harry styles x singer!reader #harry styles fanfiction #itsprashimusic #harry styles angst #not a one direction fic #louis tomlinson x reader

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gurugirl · 10 months

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I love stepdad Harry! Always brings a smile to my face when i see youve posted (guilty pleasure yum). Thank you for the last one!

but i cannot get enough of stepmom reader. You’ve made that one into something really special. In fact I told someone about it last week and they were like ~ nope. Not into stepmom stuff or older yn. Nope ~

but then guess what? they wound up reading it and binged all three parts and admitted to me that they were wrong 😂 I’m like ‘yeah I know’

just wanted to share that with you! Your stepmom fic is so shockingly good (not shocking bc you’re not a good writer, shocking bc it’s a trope most of us were not interested in) that it’s quickly become my top 5 all time favorite.

i cannot wait for part 4! I adore them and you so much. Do you have any idea when part 4 will come out? Any sneaky???

ps.. sorry for the weird capitalization stuff going on there. My phone decided when to capitalize randomly and I’m too lazy to fix.

A Good Boy sneak peek under the cut below!

🥹 thank you so much, babe. Really glad you liked the stepdad!harry from yesterday! That was a quick little fun thing to write.

As for stepmom!reader - wow! I really love that you're liking it so much and talking about it with other people and that your friend changed their mind 😂 Seems to be the theme for that fic. So many of y'all didn't think you'd like it based on the trope alone but I'm surprised that you guys did enjoy it anyway! Makes me smile.

So, I'm almost done with part 4. I think I can have it out by Thursday? Maybe? I'm super busy today (well, busy for me LOL) and gonna try to write but I've also got something I'm working on that someone paid me to write so I'm prioritizing that. Thursday at the earliest I'll post part 4 but I'll let y'all know.

And the random capitalization? My phone does the same. 😂 The words can't, can, and don't often get capitalized in the middle of sentences and it's a crapshoot on when the beginning of a sentence will be capitalized or not. I need to turn it off so it just leaves everything lowercase. So no judgement from me!

Sneak peek below !! (just remember this is literally copied from the word doc I'm writing in and hasn't been proofread or edited so some changed may be made before I post part 4)

Y/n was wearing her newly altered peach silk dress. The alterations were simple. The straps and hem were adjusted and the back column was dropped down a bit to drape to her low back. Her strappy nude heels were well-worn but comfortable because she was just simply not in the mood to wear the stiff, new heels she’d just bought.

The estate of Rebecca Manera was impressive. Probably equally as impressive as Leonardo Styles’. Most of the guests had already arrived by the time the Styles’ walked through the front door a little late.

Leo scolded Y/n for taking so long to get ready and making them run behind but in all honesty, she didn’t give a fuck. They could be half an hour late. No one would care. Why rush to go to a party? It’s not like they needed to clock in and earn a paycheck.

“It’s rude, Y/n. That’s why it matters. You’re so goddamn rude sometimes. You only think about yourself.”

She turned sharply to look at her husband in shock. That was the first time he’d ever said such a thing to her. Normally he had no opinion on how she conducted herself. She was chronically late. Yes, she could admit that was a flaw in her character but she was on time when it really counted. But to get so worked up over a party? And to insult her on top of it?

That had set the whole mood for the night. And now she was even more suspicious about this Rebecca.

But when Rebecca did make her appearance and introduced herself to Y/n she was taken aback. The woman had to be in her 50s. She was pretty, sure, but not quite Leo’s type. If Y/n were any sort of indicator of a type.

Servers walked around with trays and served the couples in attendance. There were only ten couples there as well as Rebecca’s two daughters, Y/n learned. Quite the intimate affair really.

Leo brought a glass of wine to Y/n as she chatted with Mrs. Topman (she never learned her first name, as the woman literally introduced herself as Mrs. Topman).

“Here you are darling.” His green eyes shined down at her before searching the room casually. She was on to Leo. But she found it odd that the woman he was with in the Hamptons was Rebecca. She was intrigued.

She watched Rebecca mingle and sip wine and laugh and there was nothing there that made Y/n think Leo would be interested in her sexually. But maybe that was it, Y/n thought to herself as she cocked her head to the side watching the woman speak boisterously. Maybe it wasn’t sexual. Maybe it was a woman he felt a deeper connection with than he did with Y/n. Perhaps it hadn’t started sexual but led there.

The snack table was set up with decadent treats. Y/n picked up a toast smeared with something pink, topped with heart-shaped tomatoes on top as she scanned the room for Leo, wondering where he’d gone off to. It hadn’t been that long but knowing about Rebecca being with him made things feel like she was in some kind of true crime detective story and was trying to get to the bottom of a mystery. Though there was no crime being committed, she could entertain herself with that thought.

“Are you enjoying your time tonight?”

Y/n turned her sight to Rebecca who was next to her picking up the same toast with pink schmear.

“It’s amazing. Your home is so lovely, Mrs. Manera,” she smiled and noted the woman’s massive diamond ring in addition to her massive diamond wedding ring.

“Why thank you. Phineas has put in so much work to make this large shell into a lovely cozy home.”

Y/n nearly spat her bite out. The home was anything but cozy.

“It’s incredible. Where is Mr. Manera tonight?”

“Oh, just over there,” she pointed to a man in tweed with thick black-framed glasses, “You haven’t met yet?”

Rebecca led the way as Y/n walked in her wake to meet Mr. Manera. She had still not spotted her own husband.

“Phineas, dear, this is Mrs. Styles. Leonardo’s wife.”

The man held his hand out, “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Styles.”

“Likewise. You can call me Y/n.”

“Well, Y/n. We’re happy to have you here. Where’s Leo anyway? Haven’t seen him.”

Turning around quickly to look over her shoulder she shrugged and faced the man and his wife again, “Not sure actually. I haven’t seen him in a bit myself,” she laughed. And before she could even think about what she was implying she spoke to Rebecca, “But I’m sure you’ve seen enough of him since you saw him in the Hampton’s this weekend.”

Rebecca and Phineas’ smiles dropped as they looked at one another and then back to Y/n, “I haven’t been to the Hamptons in over a decade. Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Parker? Our daughter? She was just there all weekend with her girlfriends.”

A Good Boy Masterlist

A Good Boy tags: @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @shishcabobsworld @daphnesutton @spinnerswife69 @holy-macncheese-balls @cookielovesbook-akie @lilfreakjez @itsgigikay @amateurduck

#harry styles #firstpost #ask #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #sneak peek #harry styles x yn #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #stepmom!reader

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euryd-ce · 2 years

Note

Hii! i love your blog! everything is so well written that i kept rereading them :3 i'm especially in love with your sway fic. So if your requests are open, could you do some headcanons of yandere sway? Please ignore this if not. Tysm!

❈ Yandere! Sway! Martha Behamfil Headcanons

CW: Forced Relationships, Gaslighting, Gun Use, Implied Murder, Manipulation, Stalking, Violence, Yandere

NOTE: (not proofread)

First of all, I'm so sorry for finishing this really late. There was a lot going on at the time, but I'd like to think that I'm doing significantly better now ^^

I'm not quite sure if I will still consistently write, but I'll probably come back occasionally to post something or respond to anons, if there are any.

Once again, thank you! Hearing that people actually like reading my works really makes me happy! :))

Something about having control over your life was just so entertaining to her. She'd pull on each and every string around you, so carefully yet recklessly – far enough to draw you to the brink of death yet just enough for her to arrive the at the last second, taking her place as the reverent knight in shining armor, when she'd been the very beast that held you captive.

It helped that she knew how important she'd become to you, not that you'd ever admit it out loud. From how you'd subconsciously look for her upon danger's approach, to the relief you'd breathe out at the sight of her; it told her enough, really. Only a dense buffoon couldn't see that.

She's well aware of the risk that her sick little hobby entails, that you'd eventually fall too far for her to reach for you, that she could one day slip up, and that you'd eventually sever all ties with her. But it didn't worry her, not even one bit. After all, it was the thrill of the game, and what fun would it be without a dash of danger to spice things up?

And if you did find out, there wasn't anything a little force couldn't solve, no? She practically knows your weaknesses like the back of her palm, and she's already carefully planned out every necessary move, even going as far as mastering every charade. Then again, it wasn't like you could fight back, because even if you did, Sway would always be one too many steps ahead of you, be it through physical prowess or wits.

She isn't very subtle about her following you. Not that she was terrible at hiding, she was just... bold as she'd like to put it. You weren't going to just accuse her of blatantly stalking you after she's rescued you so many times, no? It'd be careless of her to let you go off into this isolated island alone. And besides, she's just looking out for you, nothing more and absolutely nothing less. At least, that's what she'd hope you'd continue thinking.

When your inevitable resistance comes to show itself, her leniency fades away quicker than you could ever hope to react. One moment she could be your doting guardian angel, only for her to part your lips with the metallic taste of her gun in seconds.

She isn't the type to make empty threats when it comes to giving you a choice. Each word she'd utter carried nothing but her true intentions. So choose to deny the opportunity she has oh-so-mercifully offered to you, and she wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger just as she did with your strings.

Only this time, there'd be no valiant knight to save you. Only this time, you'd realize far too late that there'd never been a knight in the first place, and that you'd been mercilessly tormented by a lovesick beast in shining armor.

But you should know that she isn't as patient as you might think. If you fail to make up your mind on time, she'd simply take it upon her hands to choose for you.

The answer should've been simple, really. Surely, you wouldn't choose the cold hard ground over a life far more comfortable than your current one? She'd take care of you better than you ever did yourself, treat you as though you were a god, protect you like a priceless treasure too valuable to look away from even for the slightest moment. She'd be your picture-perfect lover, so as long as you'd be hers too.

It'd only be when you agree to her demands that she reverts into her more forgiving state. To any tourist or islander in Bélóstáin, you seemed like any other couple, but that was only because they didn't know any better. What they'd thought was a passionate woman who was madly in love with her meek and soft-spoken lover was, in reality, a domineering bird-keeper keeping her beloved nightingale in a cage.

She knows just as much as you do that your love isn't genuine, that every action done to gain her trust was merely out of the desire to escape. Your kisses were laced with enmity just as much as your trinkets or gifts were filled with loathing.

Try to report her to the authorities, that is, if you can even manage. You'd always be so close to sneaking away on your own, only for the woman to swoop you into her arms and apologize in your stead before you could possibly let out an ounce of the truth, more so step into the doors of your freedom.

Talking to other islanders or tourists wasn't on the table either as Sway would silence them one way or another. Perhaps it was the reason why Bélóstáin felt so empty, and why no one seemed to take you as seriously as they once did. They thought you weren't in the right state of mind, and those who thought otherwise would only wind up on the newspaper as, once again, another missing person.

After every attempted escape, she'd sweetly remind you of your place. That the cruise isn't arriving until five more weeks, that you're stuck with her on this island of flowers, whether you like it or not. But should you continue to be persistent despite her many warnings, she'd simply have to 'help' you change.

Even if it means breaking you apart. Even if it means making you less of yourself and more of her ideal lover.

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