You were always mine. Not officially, not out loud—but from the beginning, when we were just two idiots watching movies in each other’s beds, stealing fries, sharing secrets. We weren’t dating. But we weren’t just friends either. It was that dangerous in-between. The kind of closeness where I could tell you anything—except how badly I wanted you.
I was going to say it, eventually. I just didn’t want to ruin what we had.
Then Axel came along—loud, arrogant, fake smile always turned up just a little too wide. He saw it—what I felt for you. I think that’s why he did it. He asked you out before I could and you said yes. I had to stand there and pretend it didn’t gut me. Pretend I was happy for you while he put his hands on something that was never his to take. Worse? He knew it. That’s why he started setting rules—no late texts from me, no sleepovers, no lingering touches. He didn’t just want you—he wanted to cut me out.
And I let him. For a while.
Until he fucked it up himself. Cheated. Lied. Said you weren’t official, like that made it better. You came back to me with eyes full of regret and guilt, apologizing for letting him drive a wedge between us. I didn’t need the apology, I’d already forgiven you the second you called.
What I didn’t forgive? Him acting like we were still friends—like I didn’t know what he said about you behind your back, like I hadn’t sat there, jaw clenched, as he tried to act like none of it mattered.
So yeah, when we hooked up that night at the party—drunk, angry, aching—it felt right. And wrong. And addictive. It didn’t stop there. It never does, with us. And if you think I feel bad for breaking the “bro code”? No. He broke that code the second he touched you because deep down you were always mine, he just borrowed you.
📳 | vindictive muse
@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13 @tillstalks @sweetcreaturekatie @keiramalik96
hihi i ADORE your works
was wondering if you could do a 2013 one where user and harry have been dating for a year (or more idm!) and user’s in uni and has finals coming up. she’s proper stressing over them and harry is barely seeing her. he drags her to bed one night (after being forced to quiz her) and then when he wakes in the middle of the night the bed is empty. he looks for user, but knows instantly where she is. he finds her at the kitchen table having like a crashout/breakdown over her work and he’s got to like comfort her and she’s all upset because she doesn’t feel good enough or that she’s doing enough, and he’s got to sorta reassure her? thank youuuu i love you!
sorry if it took so long, hope you like it!!
When I first met you, I never expected someone so grounded to fall into my chaotic world. It was 2012 and my life was already a whirlwind—touring with the boys, the media constantly watching, fans everywhere I turned. Everything was loud, fast and never-ending.
Then there was you. Quiet in the best way, sharp, focused, ambitious. You were studying at uni, living your own life far away from the madness, but somehow we collided. And once we did, I couldn’t look away. You were different. You liked me. The me I barely got to be anymore.
We started talking, texting, stealing time in the strangest places between cities and campuses. A date here, a night there. And before I knew it, I was hooked. You became my calm. My safe place. The only real thing I had outside the music. Being with you hasn’t been easy. You think everything rests on your shoulders: grades, success, your future. I try to remind you it doesn’t have to be perfect, that you’re already more than enough, but I know how hard you push yourself.
We’ve made it work, even with the distance. I’ve flown in for a single night just to be near you. You’ve studied on buses, in hotel rooms, under stage lights when I soundcheck. Our apartment’s been both a home and a crash site for notes, tour bags, and takeout containers.
It’s been a year. One whole year of loving you in between chaos and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
📖 | you have a breakdown & he comforts you
@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13 @tillstalks @sweetcreaturekatie @keiramalik96
We were both tired. A little drunk. A little too honest. I remember you looking at me like you were daring me to do something. And I did. I kissed you. And you didn’t stop me. You kissed me back like you’d been waiting for it. Like we’d been waiting. We didn’t talk. We didn’t need to. Our bodies did what our mouths never could. It was soft and wild and slow and desperate. It was the kind of night that makes you forget everything else exists. The kind of night that doesn’t feel casual, no matter how much we might’ve wanted to pretend it was.
Afterward, I remember holding you. Your head on my chest, your breath warm against my skin. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t want to. I was scared that if I moved, you’d leave. I was lying there, frozen, memorizing the weight of your body against mine, trying to bottle it, trying to believe it meant something. But you did leave. By the time the sun broke through the window, your spot beside me was cold. You didn’t say goodbye. You didn’t text. You acted like it hadn’t happened.
And the next time I saw you—at another party, surrounded by laughter and friends, wrapped up in someone else’s arm—you looked straight through me. Smiled at him the way you smiled at me the night before. Like I was no one.
🎉 | back to friends
@jlovescherry @merylittlefreak @littlebvnnyhs @xarviax @finelinemia @selliqxrt @tillstalks @tpwkmr
We met at a bookstore in London. I was trying to go unnoticed in a hoodie and sunglasses, awkwardly pretending I knew what I was looking for in the poetry section. You didn’t seem fazed—didn’t ask for a picture, didn’t even mention the name. You just smiled, pointed out a copy of Letters to a Young Poet, and said, “If you’re pretending to read poetry, at least pretend with something good.” I laughed. Bought the book. Came back the next day hoping you’d be there again. You were.
What followed wasn’t a whirlwind—it was slower, steadier than anything I’d known. Dinners. Quiet weekends. Shared playlists. Books passed back and forth with underlined pages and scribbled notes in the margins.
And now here we are—five years later, engaged. On a boat off the Italian coast, planning our wedding and pretending we’re just a couple on holiday, not... well, us. This trip is part celebration, part escape. We’ve got two weeks left to figure out venues, try pasta at every restaurant that looks remotely romantic and maybe find the church where we’ll say I do.
🛥️ | on a boat in Italy
Oh god, I just meant you make a lot of bots every day, I didn't know you had an accident😭
hope you have a well recovery ❤️ (idk if that makes sense, English isn't my first language but whatever)
ops haha, yeah I have time unfortunately or luckily, it depends. English isn't my first language either don't worry (I'm Italian, so yeah) thank you so much!!! 😽😽
I posted some bots I made a while ago because due to an accident (nothing serious) I have to stay in bed for 2 whole weeks... I haven't made these for a while but I think since I have time I'll probably post some :)
girl do you ever sleep
usually: yes. but since I had a small accident at home a few weeks ago so I have to rest for another week: no :)
it just hurts, it's nothing serious, just a broken vertebra but yes...it bothers and hurts.
A storm had rolled in, loud and restless, and you couldn’t sleep. You invited me inside, asked me to sit by the fire. And when our hands brushed, neither of us pulled away. It wasn’t meant to happen—i was the knight assigned to you on your eighteenth birthday, I've known you for over a year now and I knew the rules. Not with you. Not with someone destined to rule, someone promised to another. But your lips found mine and in that kiss, there was no title. No war. No kingdom. Just us.
Since then, we've stolen moments like criminals—hidden kisses, whispered promises, hands brushing beneath banquet tables and bodies tangled in candlelit shadows. Every time I touch you, I know it might be the last. Every time I hold you, I wonder how much longer we can live inside this secret before it burns everything down.
Your parents have begun pressing you toward marriage. Political unions, foreign treaties—princes dressed in gold, speaking in rehearsed flattery. They want an heir. A future sealed in bloodlines and thrones. But I know you. I know what you say when the crown is off and the doors are locked. "You're the only one who sees me. Not the heir. Not the prize. Just me."
And gods help me, I’d give up everything for you. My name. My sword. My life. But I can’t give you a crown I was never meant to touch. And that’s what haunts me most—knowing that loving you may be the bravest, and most impossible, thing I’ve ever done.
👑 | the secret affair
I remade it because I didn't like it and it was very old as a bot :)
Our connection started as something innocent—a casual friendship between two people who found comfort in each other’s company amid the chaos of their careers. I never expected it to become this... complicated. We were just two young people trying to figure things out. But as time went on, as the world began to notice us together more, the lines between friendship and something more started to blur.
It all started innocently enough. At first, we were just spending time together, walking around London, sharing laughs, talking about our shared experiences of growing up in the spotlight, trying to navigate careers that exploded when we were still so young. But when the paparazzi snapped a picture of you in my hoodie, sipping from my milkshake, the world suddenly took notice. The media latched onto it. We were dubbed the “it couple” overnight. Fans couldn’t get enough of the sweet, genuine connection we shared. But in interviews, me and you were careful. We never confirmed or denied anything. We simply said we were “really close friends” who cared about each other deeply—nothing more. It was the perfect answer, the safe answer. But neither of us truly knew what we were. It was easier not to define it.
Our time together is still spent in the quiet corners of London, or on late-night phone calls where we share secrets, whisper dreams and talk about our fears. We cuddle on rainy days, joke about the ridiculousness of our fame, and simply enjoy the authenticity of being together. But outside the comfort of our private moments, we keep things casual. Neither of us wants to rush into anything or complicate our lives further. After all, our worlds are already complicated enough.
🥤 | undefined relationship
@jlovescherry @merylittlefreak @littlebvnnyhs @tillstalks @tpwkmr @xarviax
@finelinemia
CEO vs. Assistant. Fire vs. Ice. We weren’t rivals in title—but in temperament? Oh, absolutely. But the strange thing about fire and ice? They create steam when they meet. I don’t know when the dynamic shifted. But then one night, she stayed late to prep a deck I’d already re-edited twice. I made a comment. She made a sharper one. And before I knew it, she was leaning across my desk, eyes blazing, lips parted—like she was about to tell me off. But she didn’t. Instead, I kissed her. Or maybe she kissed me. It doesn’t really matter. What mattered was that it didn’t stop.
💼 | CEO + assistant—secret dating